A few townsfolk stood under the drizzle, watching coldly—detached spectators offering no intervention as the gaunt man unleashed his cruelty.
The man, lean and sinister, was named Nogawa—an unmistakably Asian name, betraying his origin. He was widely loathed in the village, and now, as he kicked a boy lying in a muddy puddle, his face contorted with malice, he bellowed, "B*st*rd! Hand over my three Alliance Coins now!"
The Alliance Coin—this world's sole surviving currency after a viral catastrophe dissolved all nations. In their place rose the Planetary Alliance, a global dominion governed by four colossal conglomerates.
The two coins the old man White had given the woman were precisely such Alliance Coins.
White quickened his pace, unable to bear the scene any longer. He stormed forward and shoved Nogawa away, his eyes blazing with fury. "Enough! One more blow and you'll kill him!"
Nogawa, upon seeing it was White, showed no deference. Instead, he sneered, "Stay out of it, White. He's an outsider—a thief! He stole my three coins!" Nogawa, wiry and hunched, stood a full head shorter than White.
White didn't believe for a second that Nogawa possessed three coins. "And what proof do you have?"
Nogawa insisted, "He's an outsider! That alone proves he's a thief!"
Ignoring him, White turned to the boy and pulled him gently from the mire. The youth trembled, clad in little more than a threadbare garment. His long hair obscured his eyes, which shimmered with fear and humiliation.
His clothes and hair were soaked with foul water, and as White held his icy hand, his heart ached. This frailty—part cold, part the agony inflicted by Nogawa.
Despite the boy's pitiful appearance, White kept his tone stern. "Boy, did you steal his coins?" If this youth truly was a thief, White would not hesitate to banish him from Protection Zone 64.
The boy shook his head, whispering, "I didn't."
"Are you certain?" White's voice grew sharp.
"I didn't," the boy repeated, his voice firmer now.
White gave a nod and turned back to Nogawa. "Did you find any coins on him?"
Nogawa snarled, "He must've hidden them! He's a filthy little thief. If he doesn't return them, I'll kill him!"
White's patience snapped. In a sudden motion, he seized Nogawa by the throat and hoisted him into the air, as effortlessly as lifting a stray pup. "You don't speak for this town," he roared. "If I catch you bullying children again, I will kill you!"
He stared at the boy as if seeing his own fragile daughter in him—helpless, exposed.
Nogawa struggled wildly, but he was no match for White's strength. His face turned purple, eyes rolling.
Disgusted, White flung him aside and said to the boy, "Come with me." He turned and walked away.
The boy hesitated, then silently followed. He was about Nogawa's height, and trailing behind White, looked like a chastised child walking behind a stern father.
Nogawa, sprawled in the mud, gasped for breath and shouted, "White! This isn't over!"
But everyone knew it was empty bluster. No one dared confront White—the strongest warrior in town, despite his age.
As they walked, White asked, "Why didn't you fight back?"
"I couldn't beat him."
"How would you know if you never tried? Nogawa's a dog—next time he strikes you, strike him back! Be a wolf, not a dog!"
The boy blinked, still shaken. He nodded. "Mm."
White brought him to his modest home—a crumbling house where cold wind whistled through broken windows. White hung his coat over one pane and lit a fire in the hearth. Soon, the flames roared.
The boy huddled near it.
"What's your name?" White asked.
"I… I don't know."
"How can you not know your own name? Where are your parents?"
"I don't know anything," the boy said softly, clutching his knees, staring into the fire.
White could tell from his features that the boy was of Asian descent. Yet his English was fluent. White didn't press further. What more could be asked of a child so lost?
He smiled. "I'll go boil water. You'll have a hot bath tonight. I've got a fine big wooden tub."
The boy nodded, still gazing at the fire, pitifully delicate.
Before long, White had boiled a large cauldron of water. He poured it into the wooden tub and said, "Go ahead and bathe. I'll find you something clean to wear."
The boy stripped, climbed into the tub, and closed his eyes as he sank into the warmth, a faint smile curling his lips. In this frigid world, few luxuries rivaled a hot bath.
When he emerged, his hair was slicked back, revealing a strikingly handsome face. In an age before the Great Cleansing, he might have been a star. But now, there were no stars.
White was briefly taken aback by the boy's beauty. He handed him a towel and a worn cotton outfit. "It's old, but it'll do. When I next catch game, I'll make you a coat from its hide."
The boy dried off and quietly dressed.
White's keen eyes caught a strange mark on the boy's arm—a barcode the size of a biscuit. Startled, he turned the arm over. "What's this?"
"I don't know," the boy replied, unfazed.
"It's unusual. It must mean something. Maybe it holds the key to your identity. One day we'll travel to the city—someone there might know. But enough of that. My turn to bathe."
White stripped and slipped into the hot tub, eyes closing in bliss.
Elsewhere, in another corner of the protection zone, the woman who had accepted two coins knocked on a damp wooden door.
"Who is it?" a gruff, commanding voice called from within.
"It's me."
"Oh? This late? What do you want?" The door opened, revealing a burly man in uniform.
"I've made up my mind. If it means my child can live, I'll do what you asked." Tears slid down her cheeks.
The man's face twisted into a lecherous grin. "So, you've finally come around." He yanked her inside, cupping her tear-streaked face and pressing a vile kiss to her lips. His rough hands slipped beneath her clothing, groping cruelly.
She cried out in pain.
The sound only inflamed his lust. He tore her flimsy top, her breasts bouncing free—two pale buds that ignited a ravenous hunger in his eyes.
With a savage motion, he bent her over the table, yanked down her skirt, and thrust himself upon her in brutal rhythm.
She gripped the table edge, jaw clenched, tears falling unchecked.
It was agony—no pleasure, no intimacy—just the cold violation of hell. But to save her son, she had turned from the strong hunter to this monstrous man.
Meanwhile, the boy glanced at the barcode on his arm, his face unreadable. Dressing silently, he began to pace. Dim images flickered in his mind—cold rooms, wet floors, and the bitter air that greeted his escape.
He did not wish to remember.
White, exhausted from days of hunting, had dozed off in the tub.
When he awoke, the boy had made supper. White donned a hempen shirt and sat at the table, shaking his head.
"Don't like it?" the boy asked curiously.
White chuckled. "You mustn't call me just White. Call me Uncle White."
"Oh… Uncle White, you don't like it?"
"I do! It smells delicious. But you used up all my stores. What will we eat tomorrow?"
The boy froze. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"It's fine. Tomorrow I'll hunt again. Maybe we'll get lucky."
"I'll come with you."
White raised an eyebrow. "What can you do?"
"I can help find the prey!" the boy said stubbornly.
White, chewing his flatbread, grinned. "If you're serious, I'll take you. You're scrawny now. Without training, how will you survive?"
The boy's dark eyes gleamed with resolve. "I'll work hard. I'll train. I'll grow strong!"
White laughed. "Before dinner, we should give you a name."
The boy smiled. "Alright."
"What name would you like?"
"I don't know."
"You look like an Asian. I once had a friend named Xiao—he was a warrior, a master of kung fu. Haven't seen him in years… wonder if he's still alive? Let's make your surname Xiao. May you be as strong as he was."
White scratched his head. Naming wasn't his strength.
The boy, sipping his meat porridge, said, "Then call me Xiao Feng."
White speared a chunk of meat with his fork. "Xiao Feng… good name. I'll call you Little Feng."
The boy grinned. "I can run as fast as the wind!"
White laughed heartily. "Eat up. After supper, I'll introduce you to my daughter."
"Your daughter? Why doesn't she live with you?"
White's smile faded to a bitter one. "She lives with her mother."