[From Raven's Perspective]
I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I found myself outside. A cool breeze brushed against my face. Beside me stood the red-haired girl, shock clearly etched on her features. As for the masked girl, even though her face was hidden, her stance made it obvious she was angry.
She stepped forward, scanned the area for a moment, then turned and walked away without saying a word. I stayed where I was, staring at the dark hilt the masked one had given me. "You'll need this later." That's what he said. But what did he mean? What did he know that he wasn't telling me?
The sound of approaching footsteps broke my train of thought. I lifted my head and saw a group of men in long coats and leather boots coming from afar.
One of them stepped forward. He was tall, with dark red hair, strange violet eyes, and a faint beard that gave him a formal look. There was an obvious resemblance between him and the red-haired girl.
The moment his eyes landed on her, he rushed forward, pulled her into a tight embrace, and said:
"You've grown."
But she pushed him away and said:
"Who are you?"
"Don't you recognize me, Valeria? I'm your uncle, Griffin."
"I don't remember having an uncle. My mother never mentioned you."
"Eliora never told you about me?"
"How do you know my mother's name?"
He faltered for a moment, his face tightening as if recalling a painful memory, then muttered:
"Seems she's still angry at me…"
He stroked his red beard, then looked back at her, his tone laced with concealed worry:
"Anyway, where is she now? How could she leave you alone in a place like this?"
"She's gone."
"Oh… I'm sorry… so sorry, Valeria."
"How did you know I was here?"
Griffin sighed, rubbed his forehead, and replied:
"A boy I worked with for a while. He left me a message saying you'd be here tonight, exactly at ten."
Valeria mumbled something I couldn't catch probably a curse before lifting her head again:
"And who are those men behind you?"
"They're inspectors from the Bureau of Public Investigation."
"What the hell are those bastards doing here?!"
"Sounds like you don't have much love for Bureau men."
"You still haven't answered what are they doing here?"
"Official business. We got information about a fugitive hiding in this area."
"We? You work for the Bureau? So you didn't come for me, you came for your job?"
"No… I came for you, I swear."
"I don't believe you."
While they were busy arguing, I slipped away quietly and then bolted at full speed, putting as much distance between us as I could. I didn't look back I didn't need to. The masked man's words rang loud and clear in my head: "By the way, if you get out of here, try not to get close to Bureau men. They're not too friendly with Integrates."
So I ran like my life depended on it. Eventually, I found myself alone in an alley. I stopped, lifted my head toward the sky. No stars just the moon. Now I was free. Free for the first time in a long time.
I wandered the streets without a destination, watching the towering buildings loom over the people, the busy roads full of life.
I stopped in front of a tavern with a sign reading: "The Broken Cup Tavern." I didn't know why I stopped, but I pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside. The smell of sweat, smoke, and cheap alcohol hit me instantly. The place buzzed with murmurs and coarse laughter, while faint music drifted from an old machine in the corner.
I went to a neglected table in a far corner, sat down, leaned back, and rested my elbows on the table. While I silently observed the place, I heard footsteps approaching. I looked up slightly without moving much.
A group of rough-looking men approached, reeking of drink. One of them, a bald man with a tattoo curling around his neck, leaned on my table like he owned it, his hoarse voice thick with alcohol:
"What's a little boy like you doing in a place like this?"
His friends laughed, and he added with a wink:
"This isn't a daycare, kid."
I got up slowly, pushing the chair back without a word. I didn't want trouble just to leave in peace. I walked toward the door, ignoring their stares, until I felt a shove from behind that sent me to the ground. The hilt the masked man had given me clattered to the floor, sliding a few meters before stopping at someone's feet.
One of them, a scruffy-haired man, picked it up and waved it around like a toy.
"Why are you carrying this piece of junk?" he said, laughing loudly for his friends' amusement.
I tried to get up and reach for it, but he lifted it above his head. I didn't move I knew one wrong step could get me beaten senseless.
From the back, a tall, bald, broad-shouldered man began walking toward us. With each slow step, the tavern's noise faded until silence filled the room. He stopped in front of the scruffy man, said nothing, just held out his hand.
Everything happened fast. The scruffy man froze, then handed over the hilt without a word, retreating with his friends like scared rats. The bald man examined the hilt carefully, then walked toward me.
He bent down, held it out to me. I hesitated, then took it. He nodded once and returned to his place without saying a word. I went back to my table.
Hours passed, customers leaving one by one some staggering drunk, others brawling before stumbling out. The noisy tavern grew quiet, until it was just me and the bald man, who I realized wasn't a customer at all, but the bartender.
He stood behind the counter, polishing a glass, watching me silently. Then he came to my table:
"Hungry?"
It was obvious he had noticed my condition the hunger I was trying to hide. I didn't have the energy to speak, so I just nodded slowly.
He disappeared into the back and returned with a small bowl of soup and some coarse bread. He set it in front of me without a word.
I stared for a moment, then dug in, drinking the soup with my hands, tearing into the bread hungrily. He said nothing, just sat a bit away, watching.
When I finished, he wiped his hands on the cloth he carried, then came back to my table.
He put his hand on it and asked:
"What's your name, boy?"
"My name?… It's Raven."
"Good name. Raven, you want to work with me?"
"Work here? In the tavern?"
"Yes. You'll help me clean, set tables, maybe other things later."
I lowered my head, then nodded. He smiled, patted my shoulder, and went back to work.
From that day, I worked with Garod, the bartender. At first, I was just a boy cleaning tables and washing dishes.
I thought it was an ordinary tavern, but over time, I noticed strange things men coming and going at set times, messages passed in secret.
One night, Garod sat beside me and said:
"I guess you've realized this tavern isn't just a tavern."
I didn't answer, so he continued:
> "This tavern belongs to one of the biggest gangs in the Lower District the Blood Fang. And I'm its leader."
He offered me a place among them. I accepted without hesitation.
With the Blood Fang, I discovered the world of Authorities those strange, logic-defying powers and System Pieces, tools that granted incredible strength.
And I learned the hilt the masked man had given me wasn't junk it was a real System Piece, a weapon with power I'd never dreamed of.
I often wondered why he gave me something so valuable. His words echoed in my mind: "You'll need this later."
He was right. That sword, that piece, was the reason Garod noticed me. With it, I completed several missions successfully, proving myself and climbing the ranks. I wasn't just a boy cleaning tables anymore. I was Raven, a man of the Blood Fang. And maybe one day, I'd be something more.
***
I opened my eyes. Morning light slipped through the old window. I shut them for a second, then forced myself to adjust. I was lying in bed in my room. Before I could gather my thoughts, I saw Jivan's face he was sitting in a wooden chair beside my bed, leaning back against the wall, legs crossed, arms folded across his chest.
"Finally, the sleeping princess wakes up."