"Hold it!"
The shout tore through the slums like a knife.
The teens scattered at once. Boots slapped against cracked stone and soggy dirt as they ran in different directions. They knew it was pointless. Every single one of them did. But fear burned hotter than logic, and fear pushed them to run anyway, even if only for a few seconds.
Behind them, the explorers moved in.
They didn't chase wildly or shout more warnings. They didn't need to. They flowed through the narrow alleys with calm, practiced movements, as if they'd done this a thousand times before. Boots barely slowed as they stepped over collapsed walls and kicked aside rusted barrels.
One explorer in light armor stayed low, his movements relaxed, almost lazy. He slipped into the shadows and vanished, only to appear ahead of a fleeing boy seconds later. Another raised his staff, muttered a short word, and a blast of wind slammed into a teen's side. The boy flew off his feet and skidded across the dirt, crying out as his skin scraped raw.
A scream cut through the chaos when a hand grabbed a collar and yanked a boy backward. He kicked and struggled until a fist drove hard into his stomach. The air rushed from his lungs as he folded over, gagging, and was dragged away like a sack of trash.
"Don't break them too much," one explorer said, laughing. "They still need to walk."
The slums of Grimwatch were tight and suffocating, filled with leaning shacks and cracked stone walls. Old blood stained the ground in places no one bothered to clean anymore. People watched from behind torn curtains and broken doors. Their eyes were dull. Empty. No one stepped in.
No one ever did.
This was normal here.
Teens over sixteen who hadn't awakened were taken whenever the stronghold needed bodies. And the slums were full of them. Forgotten. Useless. Easy.
Arthur Blackfall went down hard when a boot hooked his ankle.
Pain exploded through him as he hit the ground. Before he could even roll over, a knee pressed into his back. A rough hand twisted his arm behind him. Something cracked.
Arthur bit down hard on his lip. He refused to scream.
"Still got some fight," the explorer said. "That's good."
Arthur spat blood onto the dirt. "Go to hell," he muttered.
The grip tightened instantly. Pain flared white-hot, blinding. His vision blurred, and he tasted iron.
"Careful," another explorer said, sounding amused. "If you break him, he won't last five minutes in there."
The pressure eased, but not much.
Arthur was hauled to his feet and dragged forward. His legs scraped uselessly against the ground as his body struggled to respond. Every breath hurt. Every movement reminded him just how weak this body was.
Weak.
He hadn't thought of himself that way in a long time.
As they moved through the slums, more teens were caught. Some cried openly. Some cursed and struggled until they were beaten down. A few went silent, eyes empty as they were dragged along.
The explorers joked while they worked. They talked about who looked promising and who would probably die.
"Third one today that might awaken," the mage said, nodding at a boy with clenched fists and burning eyes. "Got that stubborn look."
"Stubborn gets you killed," the warrior replied. "But sometimes it's enough."
Arthur listened without lifting his head. He conserved what little strength he had. Complaining never helped. Fighting now was pointless.
He'd learned that lesson once already.
Just hours ago, he had been someone else.
A mafia boss.
The thought still felt strange, but the memories were clear. Underground rooms filled with smoke and silence. The way people stood straighter when he entered. The quiet respect. The fear. The way no one spoke until he nodded.
He'd climbed to the top with patience and cruelty. He saw weakness in others and used it without hesitation. He trusted no one.
Until he did.
That moment replayed in his mind like a curse. One hesitation. One familiar face. One second where instinct screamed to act, and he ignored it.
The betrayal came fast. A gunshot.
Then darkness.
He should have died.
Instead, he woke up in pain, trapped in a body that wasn't his. Starving. Dirty. Lying in the slums of Grimwatch. Memories that didn't belong to him mixed with his own.
A common boy.
No talent.
No skill.
No awakened power.
Pathetic.
Arthur clenched his jaw as the explorer shoved him forward again.
"Move," the man snapped. "Save your curses for the dungeon."
Arthur lifted his head just enough to look him in the eyes. "You enjoy this?" he asked quietly.
The explorer blinked, clearly surprised, then laughed. "Enjoy? No. It's work. Work needs doing."
"You throw kids to die and call it work," Arthur said.
The explorer shrugged. "They either awaken or they don't. Either way, the dungeons get cleared."
Arthur didn't reply.
Instead, he memorized the man's face. The shape of his mouth. The sound of his voice. Details mattered. Faces mattered. He'd survived once by remembering things others overlooked.
The sky darkened as they reached the edge of the slums.
Tall stone walls rose ahead, clean and solid, separating Grimwatch proper from the filth below. Beyond them, a shimmering distortion hung in the air.
The dungeon.
It looked like a wound carved into the world. Light twisted inward, colors bleeding together slowly, as if reality itself was struggling to heal. The air felt heavy, wrong, like breathing underwater.
More teens were already there, dragged in from other parts of the stronghold. Fear clung to them like a second skin. Some stared at the portal in silent horror. Others kept their eyes on the ground, hands shaking.
An explorer stepped forward and tossed a bundle of daggers onto the dirt.
"Take one," he said. "Don't say we didn't help."
When it was Arthur's turn, he picked one up. The blade was dull and chipped. The handle was smooth from too many desperate hands gripping it before him. He tested the weight, then kept it hidden in his palm.
Low quality.
Still better than nothing.
"This is an F-rank dungeon," another explorer announced loudly. "Weak monsters. Still deadly if you're stupid. If you awaken inside, fight your way out. If you don't…"
He shrugged.
"Don't waste your strength struggling here," the first explorer added. "Save it. You'll need all of it in there."
A boy near Arthur collapsed, sobbing. "Please," he begged. "I don't want to die."
No one answered him.
The portal shimmered.
And the explorers began pushing them forward.
A/N:
Sorry if you've started the novel earlier, I deleted to readjust.. it remains the same concept, but even better writing!
Add to Library, as we explore Arthur's Journey to the Top!
Thanks for your understanding and Engagement.