#037. The Place Where the Lights Went Out (2)
—
Late that evening.
“Until we find a new hideout, we’ll stay at the hotel. If any of you cause even the slightest trouble for Philip or the kids here, I’ll personally deal with you.”
The group of boys lined up in a corner of the hotel swallowed nervously.
They were the remnants of Kedrick’s gang, now under Ray’s command.
Although they had already resolved to behave carefully, hearing Ray’s direct warning sent chills down their spines.
“From now on, Kedrick will act as the unit leader of your group. Most of my orders will be delivered through him. Treat his words as if they were my own.”
There was some murmuring, but the atmosphere was generally one of acceptance.
─Looks like they’ve settled yesterday’s incident pretty well.
─Well, Kedrick used to be a squad leader anyway. Guess he got some proper training after being captured.
The shift in mood came with Ray’s next words.
“And all the money you bet on yesterday’s fight will be returned to you. The funds I took from the other gangs are more than enough for me.”
What did he mean by that?
At first, no one could understand.
Even when Kedrick brought over a bag of money at Ray’s command, they were still bewildered.
Thunk.
It wasn’t until they felt the weight of bills and coins in their hands that they truly comprehended.
“Wait… we’re getting our money back? Seriously?”
“That was everything we had saved….”
Faces filled with disbelief began to light up with excitement and joy.
“……”
Ray watched the scene unfold.
More precisely, he observed the surge of emotions in his subordinates.
‘They say true loyalty requires a proper reward.’
This move was based on Philip’s advice.
Realistically, fostering loyalty through rewards might not hold much significance in the current situation. After all, he was unlikely to stay in Sector 49 for long. And since not all of his subordinates would be leaving with him, there was no need to build a solid foundation for the gang.
Yet Ray had decided to make an uncertain investment for one reason: curiosity.
He wanted to test the method Philip suggested and observe its results. If it worked, he could adapt it for future situations.
As long as his spending had a clear purpose, Ray deemed it worth the expense.
“Ray, we still need to deal with Zephyr and Rotson.”
Philip had approached unnoticed, whispering the reminder. Ray left the scene in Kedrick’s hands and followed Philip.
—
—
—
Bound in the far corner of the hotel were Zephyr and Rotson, struggling like freshly caught fish. Despite being restrained since last night, they still had energy to spare.
“Mmmph! Mmmmph!”
“Mmmp! Mmph! Mmm!”
Roughly translated, their muffled cries amounted to:
**”You bastards! How dare you treat me like this!”**
**”You morons! Let me go! Even prisoners deserve to be fed!”**
Their defiant, resentful gazes wavered as soon as they realized who stood before them.
“……”
“……”
The Hunter had arrived.
Zephyr and Rotson, feeling cold sweat drip down their backs, quickly averted their eyes from Ray and lowered their heads.
Step. Step.
Without hesitation, Ray approached and grabbed Zephyr by the hair, slapping him hard across the face.
*Smack!*
Blood spilled from Zephyr’s mouth, splattering onto the ground.
Ray, unfazed, turned Zephyr’s trembling face toward him, removed his gag, and spoke.
“Zephyr, I’ll get straight to the point. I don’t have much time.”
“Wha-what do you want? M-money? Territory? Or is it something else─”
“Do you know Veronica’s Bookstore?”
Zephyr’s eyes flickered.
“I-I don’t know. What is that─”
Catching the tremor of emotion in Zephyr’s voice, Ray acted immediately.
*Smack!*
“Still haven’t figured out the situation, huh? Your men won’t come for you. I’ve made sure they won’t, by breaking all their limbs. Got it?”
“I-I’m sorry! I-I made a mistake─”
*Smack!*
This time, a tooth flew out.
Whatever shred of pride Zephyr clung to disappeared entirely. Watching from behind, Philip felt chills run down his spine.
**‘There it is—Ray’s true nature.’**
Philip was once again grateful to be on Ray’s side.
“The bookstore on 8th Street. That’s what you mean, right? Y-yeah, I know it. I was hired to harass them and drive them out.”
“Who hired you?”
“The owner of Fred’s General Store on 3rd Street….”
Ray nodded.
Then he activated his enhancement magic and kicked Zephyr hard in the stomach.
*Thud!*
Zephyr let out a choking sound as his body crumpled to the floor.
“Wh-what’s happening?”
“Isn’t that Zephyr and Rotson? The ones who were captured?”
Ray didn’t stop, delivering blow after blow, even as a crowd of kids gathered around to watch.
*Thud! Thud! Thud!*
For a while, the room echoed with the sickening sounds of violence.
.
.
.
—
—
—
Ray’s actions weren’t mindless brutality—they were calculated.
He had no intention of killing Zephyr or Rotson. If the gang leaders were eliminated, their groups would fall into chaos, potentially spreading trouble to Ray’s side.
Instead, keeping the two alive as controllable figures was a better strategy.
And there was another reason: sparing them minimized fear among the hotel kids. Maintaining a good relationship with the hotel was essential for their current agreement.
*Thud! Thud!*
Ray’s calculated violence served a dual purpose: revenge and morale.
The kids, who had been seething with anger toward Zephyr and Rotson, now found their resentment dissipating. Instead, they experienced cathartic satisfaction, vicariously punishing their tormentors through Ray.
“Think about it! What would’ve happened if those guys had taken over the hotel?”
“They deserve this beating!”
Seeing the shift in their emotions, Ray confirmed his plan was working.
—
—
—
Ray grabbed Zephyr by the hair again and whispered in his ear.
“I’m giving you a mission. Destroy that general store by any means necessary. But if you bring trouble back here—”
His tone turned icy.
“I’ll hunt you down and kill you.”
Zephyr, barely conscious, nodded frantically.
Ray let him go, watching as Zephyr slumped to the ground. Then he turned his attention to Rotson, who was trembling, waiting his turn.
.
.
.
—
—
—
Later that night, members of the two gangs arrived at the hotel to collect their leaders.
“Oh my God. Look at the boss….”
“Shut up and get him out of here before the hunter changes his mind!”
Dragging the barely-alive Zephyr and Rotson away, they couldn’t suppress their anger but knew better than to act.
They were the losers. Simply retrieving their leaders alive was a mercy.
—
—
Once the gangs were gone, cheers erupted within the hotel.
The boys celebrated, regardless of their affiliations. They had won a historic victory, reshaping the power dynamics of the streets.
Philip brought out the stockpiled food from the hotel, and everyone ate and drank their fill in a festive atmosphere.
“Where’s the Hunter?”
“Can I give him some chocolate?”
“Um… I think I saw him over there earlier.”
The children buzzed as they searched for Ray, but he was nowhere to be found.
Meanwhile, the person in question had slipped away from the group and was now settled on a worn-out sofa in a distant corner of the hotel.
*Thud.*
Sinking into the battered sofa, Ray gazed at the hotel’s center with his characteristic emotionless expression.
Late at night, the landscape before him, illuminated by scattered lightbulbs, was dreamy and beautiful.
Though, if there was a downside, it was that Ray lacked the ability to feel beauty or ugliness.
To him, the scenery was merely information about what was where, devoid of any emotional resonance.
“……”
Thus, even though his eyes were fixed ahead, he wasn’t truly observing the view.
Ray’s mind was occupied with thoughts he hadn’t had time to process amidst the series of urgent situations.
*”A friend is someone who can help and be helped without expecting anything in return. That’s what a friend is.”*
Philip’s definition of friendship, spoken in the arena, was different from what Ray had known.
*”I thought a friend was someone you knew for a long time.”*
By Philip’s definition, you didn’t need a long history to become friends.
Anyone who could exchange help without expectations could be a friend.
*”Helping without expecting anything must come from concern—a worry born out of wanting to look out for that person simply because they’re who they are.”*
In other words, friends were those who genuinely cared for one another.
*Vroom—*
As he recalled the memories of the bridge children, white mana from the atmosphere gathered in his palm.
Pale and the younger siblings.
Perhaps they were the only ones he had ever felt concern for—the only ones who truly fit the definition of friends.
*”I’d like to count Niles as a friend too.”*
…Could someone over 20 years older than you still be a friend?
*”This says ‘big brother.’ Repeat after me: big brother. The cool, handsome, smart, and kind Niles—your big brother.”*
*”…Stop using such weird combinations of words to teach vocabulary.”*
Niles always begged Ray to call him “big brother.”
But Ray had always called him “old man.”
Big brother…
For some reason, the term felt off.
Maybe he just didn’t want to grant Niles’ wish so easily.
*”I don’t know.”*
His thoughts wandered, and questions followed.
Could he ever have another friend?
“……”
After a brief hesitation, the answer wasn’t hard to come by: the chances were slim.
Unlike others, Ray lacked the capacity to feel emotions.
While he had recently discovered that he could sense some emotions if he focused, it was fleeting and limited to a few specific feelings.
Being different wasn’t exactly an advantage in life.
*”You’re a little strange. Scary, even.”*
*”You don’t even shed a single tear.”*
Rejection, prejudice, disdain, and fearful glances were inevitable.
The only ones who had treated him sincerely, without any prejudice, were Niles and the bridge children.
*”Will I ever meet someone else who can understand me? Or at least try to?”*
The answer was no.
No matter how he thought about it, the conclusion remained the same.
As Ray arrived at that answer, the sound of the sofa creaking next to him interrupted his thoughts.
*Plop.*
When he turned, it was Philip.
He was holding two cups in his hands.
“You prefer quiet to noisy, don’t you? Here, this is yours.”
Steam wafted from the cup, carrying a sweet aroma.
“It’s cocoa. I figured you might like something sweet.”
Ray didn’t have particular preferences, so he couldn’t say he liked sweet things.
But he often ate them—chocolates or candies—to replenish energy deliberately.
*‘So he must have thought I liked them because of that.’*
As Ray accepted the cup, Philip smiled faintly.
The two boys silently stared at the center of the hotel together.
The lightbulbs in the scene still shone brightly, and the distant laughter of children could be heard.
*─Sip.*
The warm liquid slid gently down Ray’s throat.
It wasn’t a bad kind of warmth.
It was enough to momentarily fill the void in his heart.
*─Sip.*
He took another sip.
The night at the hotel deepened.
“Oh, by the way, what are those magazines you put in the safe?”
Philip’s spray of cocoa sparkled in the light of the bulbs, dotting the magical scenery before them.
