#055. The Uninvited Guests (2)
—
Death steadily tightened its grip on the old man.
The symptoms of Eternal Slumber Syndrome had worsened, leaving him with less than 30 minutes of wakefulness each day.
“If you combine the elements this way, you can cast magic more efficiently. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
The old man grew more fervent in teaching Ray magic, as if he were a flame burning its brightest just before it extinguishes, striving to leave a little more light behind.
“Yes, that’s how you use it. Also, when dissolving the elemental combination momentarily for transformation….”
Through the old man, Ray absorbed an extensive amount of magical theory—and a fair number of spells as well.
However, there was a drawback.
**”They’re all spells for everyday life. The only combat-related spell is the one that creates and manipulates stone fragments.”**
Of course, the potential applications were limitless. Depending on how the stones were shaped and manipulated, they could introduce significant variables in battle.
…The problem was that Ray objectively lacked a vivid imagination.
**”I’ve always been far removed from things like daydreaming.”**
Moreover, the amount of gray mana he could create with his Mana Circle was still limited.
He could either draw on pre-existing gray mana in the atmosphere or use ambient mana to create it. But both methods consumed significant mental energy, making them less than efficient.
While Ray was lost in thought, the old man’s voice interrupted.
“…Let’s end here for today.”
The old man never checked a clock during lessons, yet he always knew precisely when it was time for him to rest. In recent days, he often spent his final five minutes awake gazing quietly out the window.
Perhaps he wanted to take in as much of the world as possible before leaving it behind.
Ray could not fully understand the significance of the old man’s actions but found them curious nonetheless.
**”…How can he be so composed?”**
Crying like a child, begging to be saved, screaming in frustration, freezing with regret—these were typical reactions of those facing death.
A storm of emotions would swirl within most people, yet the old man was as serene as a windless sky.
Ray watched him gaze out the window, bowed slightly, and left the room.
—
—
Ray descended to the first floor, where he discussed the old man’s condition with Veronica before starting his studies in reading and writing.
“So, in this sentence, the subject is….”
Veronica’s demeanor had noticeably darkened. Her expressions and tone lacked their usual vitality.
The same was true for Yulfin, Malta, and the other bookstore children. Their bowls of emotion were filled with an unprecedented level of anxiety and fear.
Everyone could sense the old man’s death drawing near.
It was sad and unsettling.
Ray understood the emotions the children were experiencing.
Not completely, but enough to empathize.
He, too, had witnessed the deaths of loved ones right before his eyes.
**”I need to sever these emotions.”**
Emotions were like a swamp—once you sank in, it was hard to rise again. Cutting off such feelings at the right moment was necessary.
Ray was already contemplating his next steps. He planned to extend his travel proposal to one more person, besides Philip.
**”When my siblings cried back in Sector 50, I comforted them with hugs.”**
But the bookstore children showed no tears, only heavy, sinking emotions.
How should he dispel their unease and fear?
“Veronica, you’re really good at teaching.”
“Huh? Oh, thank you.”
The compliment had no effect. Her tone remained flat, and the emotions in her bowl showed no change.
Ray concluded he’d have to ask Philip how to console someone in such a situation.
—
—
*Ding!*
The sound of the bookstore doorbell echoed.
Turning toward it, Ray saw a rough-looking man swaggering inside, scanning the interior.
“We don’t open until lunch, which is why the front lights are off—”
Veronica stood up to speak but abruptly fell silent.
Several more men entered through the open door, each wielding pipes or clubs.
Ray stepped in front of Veronica and whispered.
“Go upstairs. Take Malta and Yulfin with you.”
“No, I’ll stay—”
“If a fight breaks out, you’ll only get in the way.”
“….”
With a grim face, Veronica nodded and followed Ray’s instructions, taking the younger children upstairs.
Ray stepped out from between the shelves and spoke in a low voice.
“You don’t look like you’re here to buy books. What do you want?”
He had a good guess.
This was likely connected to the man who had repeatedly tried to buy the bookstore’s property and had even hired the Zephyr gang to throw stones at its windows.
**”Fred, the owner of the general store on Third Street.”**
It seemed Fred had decided to escalate after the Zephyr gang refused to get involved anymore.
*Thud.*
Ray stopped walking, now standing before the seven burly men. His unwavering gaze drew scowls from the men, as if to say, *What’s with this kid?*
“Hey, kid. Go get an adult. We’ve got some business to discuss.”
“Tell me what you’re here for first.”
“You little punk, how dare you talk—”
Ray interrupted.
“Fred sent you, didn’t he?”
The emotions in their bowls wavered, confirming his suspicion.
“The bookstore’s not for sale. Leave if you value your lives.”
“I heard there was just an old man and some kids in this place.”
The man who seemed to be the leader smirked before his expression turned cold.
“But I didn’t expect one of the kids to be nuts! Boys, start breaking things! That old man’ll come down on his own if we make enough noise!”
At the leader’s command, the men began smashing bookshelves and displays with their weapons.
Ray moved.
*Bang!*
He shot forward, slipping like water between the two men at the front.
*Slash!*
“Ahhh! My hands!”
“My hand! Blood—!”
Blood spurted from the wrists of the two men.
Ray, now holding a sharp knife, moved toward his next target.
“Stop him! He’s coming this way!”
“He’s got a knife!”
The men swung their weapons wildly, but it was futile.
Ray’s movements, enhanced by his mana techniques, were far beyond what ordinary eyes could track.
*Slash! Thud!*
Every swing of his knife left another man incapacitated, clutching a bleeding wound.
“Don’t come any closer!”
Now, only the leader remained. Terrified, he swung his pipe chaotically.
Ray ducked effortlessly, slashing the man’s ankle.
*Slash!*
“Argh!”
As the man fell forward, Ray leaped and drove his knee into the man’s back, slamming him face-first into the ground.
*Thud!*
With the leader immobilized, Ray pressed his knife to the man’s throat.
“Cough! P-please!”
The cold touch of steel against his neck made the man freeze.
Ray’s voice was colder still.
“Are you part of an organization? Or just a gang? How many of you are there?”
“S-sorry! I’ll tell you everything!”
The man, now stripped of his earlier arrogance, stammered out every detail, even without being asked.
“We… we just hang out in a group. Th-there’s no organization or anything.”
That much was expected, judging by their shabby appearance.
“Y-yes, as you said, we were hired b-by Fred! He… he said a big shopping complex would be built here soon, and the land value would rise…”
This, too, was somewhat predictable.
It became clear that to prevent such incidents from recurring, Fred himself needed to be dealt with directly.
“I like how quick you are to answer. Saves us both time.”
“S-so… you’ll let us go now…?”
“Of course.”
The man let out a sigh of relief.
“After you pay the price, that is.”
*Srrrk.*
The knife, which had been pressed to his neck, moved to his ear.
“W-wait… urk!”
The man, his face drained of color, tried to struggle, but the sudden pressure on his back rendered him immobile.
The boy’s eyes glimmered with cold determination.
Repay in kind.
Whether it was gratitude or vengeance.
As the knife began to press into his ear—
“That’s enough.”
A voice came from the front.
When he lifted his head, he saw an old man descending the stairs. Understanding his intent, Ray responded in a cold tone.
“If we let them go, they might come back.”
They needed to be imprinted with unforgettable fear—an overwhelming terror that would keep them far from the bookstore.
“I understand what you’re thinking. But violence only begets more violence. Retaliation will lead to more retaliation, and the cycle will never end.”
“…”
It was similar to something Philip had once said.
*”You can’t win genuine loyalty from kids through force alone. You need to use proper rewards. The same applies when you’re trying to win over an enemy.”*
But this situation was fundamentally different.
The opponent here was a pure adversary, with no value in being won over.
“If retaliation occurs, it’s because the force used wasn’t sufficient. You need to crush them completely, so they don’t even think of defying you.”
Hearing Ray’s rebuttal, the old man slowly turned his gaze to the fallen men.
“The tendons in their wrists seem damaged. I think they’ve paid enough. To be fair, they were just following orders.”
“…”
“Calm yourself, first.”
Ray couldn’t understand the old man’s words, nor could he grasp the emotions reflected in his demeanor.
‘He’s angry.’
The emotions contained within the old man’s presence were fiery red anger—a surprising intensity for someone who usually showed little emotional fluctuation.
The old man was, without a doubt, furious.
Furious that the space he had painstakingly built was invaded and damaged.
But none of that anger manifested in his actions. Instead, he spoke of forgiveness and restraint.
‘I don’t understand.’
The discrepancy between the old man’s emotions and his actions confused the boy.
One thing was certain: the old man’s approach was far too lenient.
“Ughhh!”
Some of the fallen men began to rise and rushed toward the old man.
See?
The moment they saw an opening, they revealed their malice again.
Even with impaired arms, they must have thought they could easily overpower the old man.
“Dieee—!!”
The men quickly closed the distance to the old man.
Although Ray had enough time to react, he didn’t move. He was captivated by the fierce rotation of gray mana emanating from the old man.
*Crack!*
“Huh…?”
“What the…?”
The men charging toward the old man suddenly froze in place.
Their feet, starting from their shoes, turned gray and began hardening into stone.
“S-save me—!!”
“W-what is this—?! P-please, spare me!”
The thugs’ panicked screams filled the bookstore.
Amidst the chaos, the old man locked eyes with the boy.
“Ray. Calm your emotions.”
“…”
The boy’s body and mind burned with crimson rage.
It was an emotion he could easily suppress if he chose to, but he didn’t.
‘They need to be punished.’
When you trample an enemy, you must do so thoroughly.
That was the law of power Ray had learned during his years surviving on the streets.
“Ray. The situation is resolved. Calm yourself.”
“…”
The old man’s words might hold merit. He was the wisest person Ray had ever encountered.
‘But my reasoning is just as valid.’
Their silent exchange of gazes reached its conclusion.
Without hesitation, the boy swung his knife downward.
“Aaaarghhh—!!”
With a scream of agony, the man’s right ear fell to the ground.
