Those who have someone with a Class in their family are known as Royalty. Some Royal families have sub-branches, like Leonard's family.
Leonard lived in the slums—a dirty, emotionless, merciless place—but a distance away was where the Royalty lived. Leonard could see a tall, white, mansion-like building surrounded by other similar buildings all over. "The Land of the Royals" was one of its names. It was a place that could be admired, unlike the slums.
"Heaven and Hell."
Some called the slums Hell, while others called the Land of the Royals Heaven. Leonard didn't think such a comparison was right; it was the best way to describe the two. Although they all lived in one world, it was as if they belonged to two different worlds.
Cling, cling, cling, cling.
While lost in his thoughts, Leonard heard the bell.
'Break is over.'
The break only lasted for five minutes. That wasn't nearly as much time as was needed to rest up.
'It's as if we're slaves.'
Despite having to work for long hours, they were paid scraps.
'I despise such a life.'
Leonard clenched his teeth hard, threatening to break them. Waking up constantly, having to do the same things over and over and over. Living such a miserable life.
'It's disgusting.'
That was the only emotion Leonard felt regarding such a lifestyle.
'Annoying, dirty, unsightly... everything about this place is disgusting. The people who complain day and night about matters they don't want to change; the people who would rather take out their anger on an innocent person; the criminals who commit crimes in the open without shame; the people who watch crimes being committed but don't do anything because it doesn't involve them, but complain once they're the ones suffering.'
Leonard looked around, his eyes holding a dark light.
'Me, who was born hated and had to live a disgusting life as well.'
Leonard grabbed his long blonde hair, threatening to rip it out from frustration.
'Humanity itself is disgusting.'
His grip on his hair tightened.
"Ha, ha, ha," he let out a few laughs. His voice sounded crazed; perhaps he was slowly losing his sanity. His eyes held madness and frustration.
'Live a good life.'
Leonard remembered something he was once told as a child. His mother had once told him such words.
'Live a good life.'
'What bullshit.'
'How can I live a good life? Me, who is hated by all? Me, who was born cursed with the blood of traitors?'
He looked up at the sky; rage filled his heart.
'Why did you even have a child, just to kill yourself?'
The sky didn't answer him. It was just still, like it always was—uncaring.
"Get to work, traitor!"
Leonard heard a voice urge him. He looked at the origin of the voice and saw a muscular, middle-aged man holding a shovel.
'It's you.'
Leonard was familiar with this man. Among everyone here, this man took it upon himself to give Leonard trouble, as if Leonard had personally offended him.
"Did I stutter? Work!" the man shouted, grabbing everyone's attention.
"It's the traitor."
"Has he done something?"
"Of course it's him."
"That traitor's spawn."
He heard the murmurs as a small crowd gathered around him.
"Traitor, go back to work!"
"Did you forget you're no longer Royalty!"
"Of course you cause problems; after all, you're just a traitor's spawn."
Hearing the insults being thrown at him, Leonard's heart tightened.
'For seventeen years... seventeen years I've put up with them, trying to live a peaceful life. Despite all the troubles they brought, I never did anything drastic.'
"Hey, are you deaf? Start working," the man said, then made a *tch* sound and looked at Leonard, his eyes holding malice. "For your disrespect, apologize."
'Seventeen years, seventeen years, seventeen years.'
"Hey, I'm talking to you," the man said and started walking up to Leonard. Leonard just looked down, unbothered by the man.
'Seventeen years, seventeen years, seventeen years.'
The man grabbed Leonard by the collar, lifting him a few inches.
'Seventeen years.'
"You traitor, look at me as I talk to you! Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" the man said, his voice sounding wronged, even angered.
"Teach him a lesson!"
"Teach the traitor a lesson!"
The crowd cheered the man's actions as if promoting peace.
"Seventeen years," the man heard Leonard softly mumble to himself.
"Huh? You piece of shit, have something to say?" The man seemed enraged by the fact that Leonard dared to speak.
"Seventeen years," Leonard mumbled again. This time, the man heard what he said.
"Seventeen years? What are you on about?" the man asked, his voice rising.
Can peace exist in this world? No, it cannot. As long as two separate people exist, peace can never be an option; a conflict will arise sooner or later. However, there are times when peace can exist. For example, when a mob of people focuses all their energy into hating someone. Once people have a common enemy, peace can be achieved.
Leonard was the common enemy.
"I'm done," Leonard muttered, then added, "I'm done trying."
As he said this, he looked at the man. The man noticed Leonard look up at him.
"Finally, look—"
He noticed something strange. Leonard's eyes—his brown eyes—didn't seem normal. They seemed like the eyes of a madman holding immense murderous intent. Before the man knew it, Leonard had launched two fingers at the man's eyes.
Blood splashed everywhere.
"Urghh..." The man screamed in pain, letting go of his grip on Leonard.
The crowd was shocked at the turn of events.
"Urghh... my eye!" the man screamed while holding his eye as blood splashed everywhere.
"He—"
"He attacked him!"
"He punctured his eye!"
The crowd was visibly shaken by what was happening.
"Huff... huff." Leonard breathed heavily. 'That felt good, somehow. Finally injuring him, bringing him to the brink of death... I strangely don't feel any guilt.'
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" Leonard laughed loudly. His laugh sounded crazed.
"..."
The crowd was quiet. Only the man's screams of pain were heard. Everyone had one thought:
'He's lost it!'