The Palma lodging, better known as the “Palma Slums,” numbered twenty in total. Five were under Abby’s control.
Just a month ago, she had been nothing more than the leader of a ragged pack of sewer kids. Now she carried herself like a proper chivalrous outlaw: gentle to rchants, rciless to thugs who disturbed the peace.
So far, the thod had worked. Her turf was slowly filling with bustle and life.
But it wasn’t enough. Abby knew that. I knew it too. We both intended to push this district further.
And when sothing sticks out, the hamr always falls.
Political unrest. Poverty. An exploding population with too few resources. The reasons were endless, but all of them ant the sa thing: Abby’s sudden rise ca with countless problems.
Above all, we lacked ti.
We’d grown too fast, and what we lacked most was the manpower to hold the ground we’d seized.
We were already twenty-three. Most were orphans Abby had taken in, all of them around ten years old—useless in a fight. Their jobs were making soap and gathering scraps of information.
anwhile, other small gangs had already crept onto our turf. Petty groups, true, but each one eyeing Abby’s position. Minor scuffles broke out almost every day.
Abby’s greatest challenge was recruiting people who could actually fight.
We didn’t have enough fighters. Which was why it seed such a waste to have Ashita, Zoë, and Eva still stuck as “kitchen servants.” Their exile from combat had more to do with Abby’s moods than practicality.
So when Abby told she had soone new to introduce, I already knew what kind of “recruit” it would be.
She whistled.
“Gina! Get in here!”
The door opened, and a faint animal stench pricked my nose. A bad feeling hit instantly. I knew what was coming.
A tall woman ducked through the doorway. She was over 170 cm. Ashita might edge her in height, but this one’s muscle mass was greater by far. A power type.
She was fresh blood. A swaying, bushy tail. And that vacant, off-kilter look—one screw loose. Cute enough features, but the emptiness in her eyes was unmistakable.
A Wardog.
They were strong, well-built, mild in temperant, with a natural drive to protect the weak. Dim-witted, but sensitive to hierarchy. Loyal to their leader’s command. Their flaw: that sa obsession with rank. Normally warm-hearted, but in any organization, their fixation on pecking order could turn dangerous.
“…”
The Wardog woman, Gina, looked at . Her brow furrowed, and her face twisted with open disgust.
My incense.
Wardogs with their sharp noses hated potent scents.
A bad sign.
After the curse incident, Dietrich Becker had disappeared from inside , but not completely. Just as he had loved this incense, so did I. He and I shared certain quirks.
And we both despised this new girl.
Her sll—feral, unwashed, with the faint tang of an orphan picked off the streets. Maybe she hated my scent too, but it didn’t matter.
The revulsion was mutual. And revulsion wasn’t logical.
It was instinct. That was the dangerous part.
Watching recoil in silence, Abby grinned as if she’d been expecting this.
“Gina. This is Di. He’s our No. 2. He’s weak right now, still in recovery.”
At the word weak, Gina’s ears twitched.
“Weak? Number two… but weak?”
As I thought, one loose screw. All the worst traits of a wardog gathered in one.
Her words carried no trace of reason. She didn’t grasp the concept of organization. In her dull mind, nothing but raw strength decided rank.
It was the sa revulsion I’d felt toward Alex—only tenfold stronger.
“…”
I shook my head, unable to hide my disgust.
Abby was clever. For better or worse, she had expected this. She wanted to see it.
“Gina, you’ll obey Di and Sui in all things. If they tell you to eat shit, you’ll eat it. If they tell you to die, you’ll do it gladly. You’ve got nothing but muscle, so use it to guard Di. Don’t let anyone near him. Especially won. Any woman who approaches without permission—you kill her. Understand?” She said, smiling.
“…”
Gina listened with a vacant stare. I’d bet my life she hadn’t understood a word. Abby’s speech was too complicated for that tiny brain.
“She’s a piece of work, huh…”
I sighed, shaking my head at Gina—and at Abby for bringing her.
“Ah…”
Beside , Sui’s face went pale. She wasn’t smart, but she could read an atmosphere better than anyone. She had seen my reaction, and she understood.
Sui, only eight, worried over everything I did. Loyal, attentive, but never a fighter. That loyalty was why Abby had raised her in Zoë’s place.
In my current state of convalescence, I had no complaints. Sui cared for . Aside from her habit of slipping into my bed at night to warm her chilled body, she caused no trouble.
And yet… I missed that sharp little dwarf girl.
How is she now?
By the ti I woke after the curse incident, she was already gone—banished by Abby’s order. Whipped, I’d heard, though surely she had healed.
Was she managing with Eva? Was she safe?
Worry gnawed at .
This one’s useless.
I shot Abby a glance. She appeared to share the thought; her face tightening as if she’d bitten into a bitter worm.
I popped a fresh chip of Kyara into my mouth and rolled it between my teeth on purpose.
“Ugh…”
The scent spread, sharp with mint. Gina recoiled, wrinkling her muzzle and turning away. Abby watched her with the sa exasperation, but said nothing.
She wouldn’t back down. She was that obstinate.
So I spoke.
“Abby, are you serious? I’ll ask one more ti. You’re serious about this?”
She faltered for a breath but forced her voice.
“Yeah. I’m serious. Better than so freeloaders I could na.”
“…”
And with that, she damned herself with her own words.
I chose silence. Sui's frightened eyes darted between my quietness and Abby's forced calmness.
“I’ll ditate for a while. All of you, leave,” I said at last.
Usually, I kept Sui at my side, but this ti I needed solitude more than comfort.
For a priest of Asclepia, daily ditation and prayer were not optional.
Abby hesitated. Sui looked troubled by the dismissal. Gina, of course, had no idea what was going on—she simply lumbered after them.
At the door, Abby recited her usual line.
“Di, give today’s blessing.”
“…”
I made the sign of the cross, carelessly, then pressed my finger to her brow.
Sothing different. Abby looked up at , surprised. Instead of the usual blessing, I gave her these words:
“The one who arrives on the worst of days… may find even the worst days strangely sweet.”
◇◆
Each of us must think in his or her own way.
For it is only through that path that we arrive at the truth that guides our lives.
—Words of Asclepia
◇◆
Maybe it was ti for to act on my own, too.
As promised, I'll update one chapter every day this week.
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