"His life..."
"Yes... his life is yours to take, Arthur. I've waited so long to tell you about this. The man named Mario is responsible for your parent's death. The very reason you are living in this orphanage."
It was all so much for him to process.
All Arthur felt like he could do was sit there in silence.
But it was Mother Lucy's comforting hand on his shoulder, and her soft words guiding him like an angel on his shoulder that calmed him down.
"Do not worry, Arthur. I will tell you all about where you can find him."
———
The next morning, Arthur boarded a train heading further south of Ingland.
He knew not how long he would be gone, only that his destination was the small town of Hamesborough and that he would not return until his mission was completed.
To find the man named Mario Cataño, and and end his life.
Mother Lucy had told him everything he needed to know to find him. She had even written down his address on a piece of paper, as well as a description of the man's appearance.
121, Great Tail Road, Hamesborough.
Tall, brown-skinned, with long dark hair and a missing eye burned by flames.
This was his target.
Arthur thumbed at the knife that rested in his coat pocket.
He had told Mother Lucy about his "Buff". An increase in Stab Damage II, due to awakening the Butcher class.
She had told him to utilise it.
She claimed that the increase in strength he would feel when stabbing an opponent would be far greater than he could imagine.
Arthur found solace in her words, as he so often had. Every day, she became a more respectable figure in his eyes.
He was not even angry at the fact she had hidden this information from him for so long.
He understood her reasoning.
More importantly, he was glad that she had finally told him.
Retribution could be had.
However, there was only one object standing in his way.
Before leaving, Mother Lucy warned Arthur of something. A danger lurked in Hamesborough, who, if landed their sights on him, might cause him trouble.
Drowner.
A prominent serial killer known in the town.
Drowner was a man whose appearance was unknown to the world. His murders took place in Hamesborough; however, sometimes, he would stretch them out to the outskirts of town.
Regardless of location, the murders were all of the same nature.
They would be drowned in a small body of water. One so small that it could not happen of natural causes.
He had been on the scene for four years, and the only reason people had come to believe that he was a male was that his five victims were all male and weighed over 200 lbs.
On the serial killer ranking, he was number 91,762. A number that might not seem impressive, but still made him a man to be feared.
It doesn't matter...
Arthur tried to fool himself into confidence.
If he wants to try and stop me from killing in his town, then I'll take him down too.
But deep down in his heart, he was unsure if he was even capable of such a thing.
After all, just what sort of buffs and abilities had such a man acquired?
———
When Arthur arrived in Hamesborough, it was still the afternoon.
He still had time to kill. There was no need for him to make his way to Mario's house yet.
So he stopped by a coffee store.
It was a simple, cosy place. A family-owned business with surprisingly cheap prices.
He ordered himself an espresso and sat in the corner of the store, sipping as he listened to the chatter of a nearby group of friends.
"When was the last time you confessed?"
"Confessed? I'm not Catholic."
"I know, but come on. With the recent uprise in serial killers and stuff, hasn't it made you wonder what lies ahead?"
"You mean the afterlife?"
"Yeah..."
"..."
"No, I can't say that it has. What's made you bring this up anyway? I never took you for a religious man."
"Hmph... neither did I. But for some reason, I've been thinking about these things lately man."
One of the men must have noticed Arthur staring and listening to their conversation, so he quickly changed the topic to something more casual.
It was only then that Arthur realised what he must have looked like.
He wore a black windbreaker with his hood covering his blonde hair. He also wore a pair of black trainers and joggers. If not for his youthful face and smaller size, people might be able to guess who he truly was.
A Murderer.
———
Night had arrived.
As he walked casually through the streets of Hamesborough, Arthur's heart beat rapidly.
He thought heavily about what he was about to do, or at least he tried to.
It should bother him. Taking a life.
But all he felt was adrenaline. An eagerness to see it through.
He told himself that it was because he knew that Mario deserved it, but that wasn't the truth.
Mr Graham the runner, his first kill, had not deserved it.
The only crime he committed was to walk down the same path where Arthur decided to sit, on the day that he could no longer refuse the system.
No. In truth Arthur knew why the thought of murder did not bother him.
He was sick.
Mentally.
...
After a long walk from the coffee store, he finally reached his location.
121, Great Tail Road.
It was a beat-down street, clearly home to the poor. Despite the houses on the street being two stories tall, they were all built closely together, and practically falling apart.
The walls had been deteriorated over the years, and the doors hadn't seen a fresh coat of paint in years.
The gardens were full of brown, overgrown weeds, and the windows were so misty that you could not see through them.
Even still, Arthur steps through one of the gates and into a garden. Then, he made his way over to the dirty green door leading to house 121.
He rasped his knuckles on the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
At first, there was only silence.
He knocked again.
"Who is it?"
A accented, male voice came from the opposite side of the door.
Arthur's heart began to race even faster.
"Delivery for Mario Cataño." He called out as calmly as he could manage.
Silence followed again.
"A delivery? At this time? I haven't even ordered anything."
Those words were all the confirmation that Arthur needed.
The man behind the door was who he was looking for. The one responsible for his parent's deaths.
"Could you come out and have a look?"
"..."
"Sure, just one moment."
Arthur reached his hands into his pocket, clutching tightly around the knife.
He prayed that this one would be sturdier than the one he had used before.
After a few moments, the door slowly swung open until, eventually, a man stood on the opposite side.
He was exactly as Mother Lucy had described him.
Brown-skinned, most likely of Espan descent. Black, wavy hair. Taller than the average man, yet thin. And roughly 40 years of age. Most importantly, one of his eyes were covered in burned scars.
The instant that he took in the features of the man standing before him, Arthur drew the knife from his pocket.
Mario looked down, eyes wide in utter shock.
And then, Arthur attacked.