Chapter 4 : Good and Evil?
While reading, he began recalling some information from his new memories, but they were only surface-level details—things that everyone living here knew: the Heinrich Brotherhood and the Silver Axe Gang, their areas of influence, some rumors about the leader of the Silver Axe Gang supposedly eating human flesh and things of that nature. But it was clear these were nothing more than exaggerated rumors. As for the Brotherhood's leader, Michael Heinrich, he was renowned for his immense strength and influence; he was considered one of the three richest individuals in the entire Gaia Province.
Still holding the newspaper and reflecting on the information he had retrieved while reading, and so as not to disturb the news vendor—who was himself reading a book and occasionally glancing up at him—Damian bought the paper and left.
He slipped it inside his gray leather coat, deciding to finish reading it at home. He flagged down a carriage and boarded after telling the driver his destination.
"The care home affiliated with the Church of the Mother of Earth."
Damian sat near the window as the carriage began moving. His thoughts were swirling in different directions. Although there had been a lingering headache ever since he woke up in this world, he attributed it to his mind not yet having fully processed the enormous volume of memories belonging to the previous owner of this body.
As the carriage continued for several minutes, it suddenly stopped and a young woman in her early twenties climbed aboard. From her brief conversation with the driver, it was clear her destination lay along the same route.
She gave a smiling nod in greeting and sat down facing Damian. The young woman had an average appearance: honey-colored eyes, light brown curly hair. Her white-and-brown outfit enhanced her look and showcased good taste—aside from the fact that the clothes were clearly second-hand. Still, they suited her and gave her a unique charm.
Damian returned the nod in greeting, then turned his head and directed his attention outside, watching the streets through the small carriage window. He wasn't fond of unnecessary conversation and wasn't the type to engage in aimless small talk—especially not the frivolous chatter of young people.
But things didn't go as he expected. A soft, feminine voice interrupted the train of his thoughts:
"I haven't seen you around here before, sir. Are you perhaps a visitor from outside the city?" the young woman asked, showing a pleasant and attractive smile.
Damian turned his gaze back inside the carriage and looked at the girl in front of him with a calm expression. He mustered the gentlest smile he could manage. Just as he was about to reply, her voice cut in again, revealing her slightly clumsy nature:
"Forgive my rudeness—I didn't even introduce myself before asking. My name is Anna Deralz. I live here on Silver Current Street. And you, sir?"
She spoke with a friendly smile and an innocent expression that made her seem extremely endearing.
"I'm Damian. I live near Princes' Square, so no—I'm not from outside the city," Damian answered, trying to sound as kind as possible.
Anna replied in a cheerful voice accompanied by a lovely laugh:
"You live there? It's such a beautiful area. My aunt also lives near Princes' Square—she's on Glory Street. You might even know her."
The conversation continued, mostly with him answering her questions. She was talkative and a little awkward, but she was genuine and came across as sweet nonetheless.
He responded to everything he could, sometimes vaguely, until he heard the driver call out:
"We're in front of the Mother of Earth Care Home."
Upon hearing that, Damian smiled as he rose from his seat.
"Excuse me, miss. I wish you a safe journey." He removed his hat in farewell and stepped out after opening the door.
"And a good day to you too, Mr. Damian," she returned with an equally beautiful smile. The carriage continued on toward its next destination.
After disembarking, Damian turned toward a massive iron gate topped with a carving of a woman cradling a stone sphere. The building itself was a huge Gothic structure of pale yellowish-white stone. Its windows were tall and narrow, and its walls were thickly covered in dark ivy that looked like pulsing veins embedded in the stone.
Damian passed through the iron gate into the stone corridors of the care home. A sister in the white-and-gold habit of the Church of the Mother of Earth greeted him and led him to Room 14. The room was narrow and dimly lit by the faint glow of candles. On a wooden bed lay his mother, Marta—her thin, pale body stretched out as though lifeless, eyes closed, face calm and serene.
"How is she today?" Damian asked quietly, gazing at her face.
An elderly priest who appeared from behind him and stood beside the sister answered in a low voice, almost as though continuing a prayer:
"Her condition is stable, but the recurring comas persist and occur at irregular intervals. It has been four days since she last woke. We fear… only the Mother of Earth can heal her. You must keep praying for her."
Damian nodded as though saddened, then gently touched her thin hands and kissed them.
"Please continue taking care of her. I'll handle the fees soon."
The priest replied with slight hesitation:
"We hope so, my son. Resources have become scarce as well."
"I'll find a way to cover it. Please keep looking after her, Father."
Damian stood, bowed slightly to both of them, cast one last glance at his mother, and left the room.
"May the Mother of Earth be with you," he heard the priest's blessing as he departed.
Victor had taken on all of Damian's responsibilities—from his mother to, if possible, avenging him. He considered it fair exchange for the body that now belonged to him.
"Since fate has intertwined our destinies, at the very least I'll do this for you," Damian said inwardly as he left the gates of the church-affiliated care home.
What he needed now was a source of income. The payment deadline for the care home was approaching. After all, they wouldn't look after his mother for free!
Not to mention his own needs. Money was the single most important thing in his current situation. It would solve some superficial problems and pave the way for his future plans.
He flagged down another carriage and asked to be taken back to Malington Street. The journey took about twenty minutes before the carriage stopped again in front of his house.
He opened the door, climbed to the second floor where his bedroom was located, removed his coat and shoes, and immediately collapsed onto the bed.
He sank into a whirlpool of thoughts and planning for what to do next. He didn't even realize when he fell asleep. He didn't wake until evening arrived and the sun began casting its final rays, announcing the last hours of daylight.
Damian rose lazily, savoring the comfortable sleep that had eluded him for so long, basking in the euphoria of being alive again. He felt that most of the accumulated exhaustion had lifted from him.
He went downstairs, washed his face, ate a simple meal from whatever was in the kitchen, read a little more of the newspaper he had bought that morning, and left the house once again.
The air had grown noticeably colder than in the morning, and the sky was now completely dark. The moonlight was faint, hidden entirely behind clouds, making the hanging lanterns on the street poles the city's primary source of light.
He was heading, as he did every day in his previous life, to a tavern—but this time to a different one. His intention was to gather information about gang members and their influence in the city. And he already had the perfect place in mind!
Damian had no real knowledge of the criminal networks, their organization, members, or inner workings. There was only information about the two biggest gang leaders in the province—the Heinrich Brotherhood and the Silver Axe Gang—along with their influence and some superficial details about the recent incident. Nothing particularly useful or interesting.
Though that was somewhat expected. After all, that line of work demanded extreme caution regarding the flow and leakage of information!
At that moment, the door of the house next to his opened and a woman in her late thirties stepped out—wavy black hair, black eyes. When she saw Damian at his door, she greeted him with a lively smile:
"How are you, Mr. Damian? You look healthy and energetic today."
Damian turned toward her and, in response, offered a faint smile—trying to imitate the gentle, forced smile the previous Damian would have given. He had always tried (and usually failed) to suppress his sadness, as his friend Taylor used to say.
"I'm fine, thank you." He paused for a moment, then continued: "And how are you, Miss Miller?"
"I'm well, as healthy as you can see, haha," Miss Miller replied with her usual liveliness, trying as always to lighten the mood. She brushed her hair aside with a beautiful smile and invited him:
"If you're free, why don't you join us for dinner? It's been a while. John would be delighted to talk with you."
"Thank you for your kindness, Miss Miller, but let's leave it for another time."
When Miss Miller realized there was no point in insisting and that he wouldn't accept, she didn't press him further. She simply wished him a good evening and left him be.
Neither the old Victor nor the current Damian liked the idea of leaving things for later. In his view, whoever had taken the lives of Damian's wife and daughter had intended to take his as well. If he hadn't been away from home that day, he would have been killed alongside them—and perhaps Victor would never have taken this body. He thought that might have altered the course of fate. After all, he didn't fully understand how such grand mechanisms operated.
His current priority was to gather a certain amount of money, leave his house as soon as possible, collect information about the criminal underworld, and then find a way to train as a knight—something he had no idea where to even begin looking for.
Just as he had suspected, knight training methods were monopolized by nobles and powerful wealthy families. From the new memories in his mind, these were powerful techniques and methods designed to push the human body to its genetic limits and exploit them in various deadly combat styles—making knights the foundation of every noble house and a major force in the world!
He had read in the newspaper that Michael Heinrich—the strongest man in the entire Gaia Province—had once been a very powerful and famous great knight. The leader of the Silver Axe Gang was also a knight, though not quite to the same degree, which still contributed greatly to his fame.
Damian knew that to build a solid network quickly, he would have to rely on his old skills once again. He had never imagined he would return to using them after ending up bedridden—but they were the only method he knew to establish a foothold rapidly in this world.
Illegal methods were the fastest option available!
Although he hadn't yet fully grasped the nature of this world—since a large portion of the memories in his mind had not yet settled into his consciousness and much of it still lay in his subconscious—he was certain he would remember more with the passing days.
In Damian's—or rather, Victor's—view, the world was a place run purely by interests.
The concepts of good and evil were pure nonsense!
Kindness was merely weakness, and evil without purpose was nothing but the actions of the psychologically deranged.
Justice? That notion had long since become obsolete—and it had never been fixed in the first place, since it changed from one person to another.
Deciding someone's fate under the banner of so-called "unjust justice" was injustice in itself!
So what was the point of overthinking it? Since there was no true justice, all one could do was establish their own justice and force others to follow it.
Therefore, he would exploit any person or situation to survive—even if it meant taking some risks. The greater the risk, the greater the reward. Victor had tested and confirmed this truth many times in his previous life. So he would proceed in exactly that manner, maximizing benefits whenever the opportunity arose.