**#015. Street Kids (5)**
Hiding behind a box, Ray observed the boys heading toward the bookstore.
*“They seem to belong to Zephyr’s group, judging by the territory.”*
Their current location was Street 8—an isolated part of the sector where people rarely ventured.
“Well, the shattering of the glass wasn’t the random act of people”
From their conversation, Ray could infer what the three boys were up to. They had been hired—likely by someone coveting the spot where the bookstore stood.
Ray was no stranger to this. In Sector 50, he’d witnessed such schemes numerous times, even receiving requests himself:
> *“Hey, kid. Got a job for you.”*
> *“It’s simple—just disrupt their business so they can’t operate properly.”*
> *“Handle it however you like, just don’t make it too conspicuous.”*
He had declined the request—because the target had been a shopkeeper he knew. Later, Ray discovered that the requester was a rival from a different street.
Hiring street orphans to sabotage or drive out competitors was an effective, low-risk strategy. It left minimal evidence and was far cheaper and safer than involving gangs.
Ray scanned his surroundings. The lack of passersby made the area perfect for the boys’ plans.
When the three boys reached a spot just a few meters from the bookstore and prepared to throw stones—
*Creaaak!* *Thud!*
A second-story window slammed open.
“Hey! You brats! Get out of here! You’re the ones throwing stones at my shop, aren’t you?”
The voice belonged to a red-haired girl.
Ray had passed the bookstore countless times but hadn’t seen her since their first encounter.
He assessed her *aura*. The violently quivering black mana revealed her fear, while the pale yellow mana trying to drive it out signaled her determination.
*“Courage and resolve—a combination like Philip’s.”*
Though similar, her yellow mana was barely holding its own against the black, unlike Philip’s.
“What now? Someone came out.”
“What do you mean, what now? She’s just a scared little girl. Can’t you see she’s trembling?”
The boys weren’t the only ones who noticed her fear.
They started shouting louder, relishing the imbalance of power.
“Must be nice having a home! We don’t even have a proper place to sleep!”
“Exactly! I’m so jealous I could die!”
Stones flew through the air. Not casually tossed—these were aimed with full force.
*Whizzz—*
The stones hurtled fiercely, dripping with malice and intent to harm. Fortunately, the height of the building weakened their momentum by the time they reached the second floor.
Still, they posed a threat.
*Thud!*
A stone struck the wall near the window.
The girl flinched, her face turning pale as bits of concrete and dust fell from the impact.
If she didn’t dodge, she could be seriously hurt—or worse, killed. Her wide eyes quivered, tears threatening to spill.
But she didn’t flee. She didn’t cry or wail.
Instead, she bit her lip and gripped the window frame tightly, leaning further out.
“Get lost! All of you! I’ll kill you!”
Her furious scream, unfortunately, had little effect.
“She says she’ll kill us?”
“Forget her. Keep throwing stones. She’ll get the message if one hits her.”
“Come down here! If it’s not fists or knives, but what’s under your skirt, I might just let you kill me!”
“Wow!”
“Good one! Yeah, come on down!”
The boys burst into mocking applause, their laughter ringing through the street.
They weren’t experienced or knowledgeable about what they were taunting her with. They merely parroted phrases they’d heard from vagrants or drunks.
It was enough. Mimicking adult behavior gave them a false sense of maturity and bravado.
Ray decided it was time to intervene. He grabbed a rusty pipe nearby and started walking.
He’d scouted the building before—realizing the bookstore connected to the second floor. That red-haired girl was likely tied to the bookstore—perhaps the owner’s daughter.
If she died or was gravely injured, it would complicate things for the store.
“Get lost! The adults are coming outside right now!”
“Idiot! We know it’s just sick old folks and kids inside!”
“You’re all dead—kyaaah!”
*Whip!*
A stone grazed her cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood mixed with dust.
“Bullseye!”
“Next one’s mine! I’m getting better at this!”
Tears welled up in the girl’s eyes, finally spilling down her cheeks.
Still, she refused to retreat from the window, her jaw clenched defiantly.
Ray felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
*“I’ve seen this before….”*
He quickly realized where.
Pale and his siblings.
Before Ray had joined, the kids under the bridge were constantly threatened by others.
The bridge was prime real estate for street orphans, after all.
Today’s situation mirrored those times—attackers trying to take, defenders trying to hold their ground.
Ray frowned as he watched the boys close in.
*“What face was Pale making back then…?”*
His memory of expressions was poor—blank slates rarely left an impression. But he forced himself to focus, piecing together the image of Pale’s determined face.
*“Just like her.”*
The red-haired girl wore the same expression.
Without realizing it, Ray quickened his pace.
Even though stealth was crucial for a successful ambush.
*Whizzz—*
A stone hurtled toward the girl’s face.
Before it could hit, it abruptly plummeted vertically, then reversed course, flying back toward the boys.
“Whoa!”
One boy barely dodged it, yelling in surprise.
“What was that?!”
“Didn’t something seem… off?”
“Was it just our imagination?”
The boys hesitated briefly before resuming.
But Ray saw it clearly.
*“Magic…?”*
It wasn’t his doing. He distinctly felt the mana in the air ripple.
Wind had formed at a point in space, redirecting the stone.
An intense mix of curiosity and realization bubbled in Ray’s chest.
*“So that’s possible—magic can be cast directly in the air, not just from the hand.”*
The caster was obvious—the red-haired girl at the window.
Her face, however, was pale, drained from the effort.
The boys resumed their attack, their stones more precise and ferocious.
*Whizzz—*
Another stone hurtled toward her face.
This time, she extended her hand, mana of various hues swirling chaotically.
*“……!”*
Her concentration faltered, and the mana began to disperse.
Ray’s instincts took over.
He seized the stray mana, stabilizing it.
The swirling energy coalesced into a serene sky blue.
*Whooosh!*
A powerful gust swept the area, seizing every stone midair and returning them with precision.
*Thud! Thud!*
“Gah!”
“Ugh!”
The stones struck their marks—dropping two boys instantly.
The third barely dodged, only to be met by Ray and his steel pipe.
*Clang!*
The boy crumpled, Ray’s icy expression reflecting in his widening eyes.
“Damn it… Hunter….”
Ray didn’t stop. Methodically, he struck their wrists and forearms, ensuring they couldn’t retaliate.
By the time he was done, the ground was splattered with blood.
Dragging the unconscious boys into an alley, Ray returned to the bookstore, meeting the girl’s shocked gaze.
“It’s been a while,” he said.
“……”
Her aura wavered—a mix of black and teal mana, fear and curiosity.
Her trembling voice broke the silence.
“D-did you really have to go that far…?”
“You mean breaking their arms?”
“Yes! They’ll never use them the same way again!”
“I know. That’s why I did it.”
“But—!”
“Because half-measures don’t work. If I’d gone easy, they’d be back tomorrow with more stones.”
The girl fell silent, unable to refute him.
Swallowing hard, she murmured, “Thank you… I guess.”
“No need for thanks. I have a question.”
“Oh, um, so do I…”
Simultaneously, they asked:
“Did you just use magic?”
“Are you a magician?”
—
—
The girl unlocked the bookstore door and stepped outside.
She glanced around at the bloodstains scattered everywhere, her face pale and queasy, clearly not accustomed to such sights.
“You… you’re amazing. To create such strong winds… even Grandpa can’t do that.”
“Grandpa?”
“Yeah, the bookstore owner. He’s a bit eccentric, but…”
“How did you learn magic?”
“Huh? Oh, well, Grandpa took me and my siblings in, so…”
“Is Grandpa a mage too?”
The relentless stream of questions made the girl flustered, but she answered each one diligently.
“Yeah. Of course, he knows magic. He’s a mage, after all.”
Ray’s eyes lit up.
He had only expected the bookstore to contain books related to magic.
But to think the owner himself was a mage—this was more than he’d hoped for.
Moreover, the man likely wasn’t a dangerous individual.
The injured boys had mentioned he was a sickly old man, and when the girl talked about him, her heart filled with trust and warmth.
“So, your name is—”
“Could I meet this Grandpa of yours?”
“……”
The unending questions left the girl momentarily speechless.
*…I’ve got so many questions I want to ask too.*
She stared into the boy’s eyes, which brimmed with curiosity and an insatiable thirst for knowledge.
The girl let out a small sigh and nodded.
“Alright. But I’ll have to go upstairs first to check on things.”
Creak—
The door to the bookstore swung open.
The girl, who had entered first, turned back and asked.
“Want to come inside and wait?”
The bookstore lay wide open, and within it, countless treasures of knowledge—the very ones the boy had so desperately yearned for—fluttered in their places, beckoning him.
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