Chapter 23: The Boy’s Story (Part 2)

R‍ea‌d‌ ‍o​n K‍​a‍t‌R‍e‍a‌​d​i‍n​g‌​C​a‌f‌e‌

For a while, it felt like he had lost himself, but there was no time to hesitate.

He had to work to earn money, and he needed money to leave this place.

Leaving this place, studying, and living well were the only ways to honor the old man’s memory and repay his kindness.

With even more reason to earn money now, Riley worked even harder.

He asked his supervisor for more work and pushed his body to the limit, working late into the night.

When he returned home exhausted, he faced his parents’ fights and his father’s violence.

‘It’s okay.’

I can still endure.

Unaware that his body and mind were being worn down, he endlessly ground himself into exhaustion.

Then, one day.

“Honey, you’ve never had such expensive alcohol, right?”

“…Hmph. I used to drink stuff like this back in the day.”

His father, who had lived a relatively comfortable life until his teenage years. His father’s father—Riley’s grandfather—had been stripped of the family name, leading to their current situation.

They lost their family, their money, and their honor. All that remained was his father’s alcoholism.

“Right, right. Let’s have a drink for old times’ sake.”

His mother, unusually gentle that day, didn’t go to work and instead served his father drinks. Maybe it was her day off. His father, seemingly in a good mood, drank with her. His already glazed eyes suggested he was drinking something strong.

Riley, huddled in a corner, watched the scene.

His mother smiled and gestured to him.

“Come here.”

She seemed to be calling him to eat the snacks, not the alcohol. But Riley shook his head and refused.

“It’s okay…”

The strange atmosphere between the drunk adults made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want to be part of it. The heavy atmosphere felt suffocating.

“Really? The snacks are good.”

“He said he’s sleepy.”

“Yeah… I’ll go to bed first.”

Sensing his father’s subtle hint for him to leave, Riley went into the bedroom and closed his eyes. He needed to sleep early anyway since he had work the next day.

His mother stared at Riley for a moment before turning away.

.

.

.

He lay down, wrapped in a thin blanket. It smelled musty from not being washed in a long time, but it was all he had to cover himself with.

As he dozed off, he heard a rustling sound and groggily woke up.

‘Is it raining…?’

But when he listened closely, the sound wasn’t coming from outside—it was inside the room. He quietly raised his head and saw a shadow near the dresser.

“Who’s there… Mom?”

The shadow immediately turned and shushed him.

It was his mother. Her golden hair and blue eyes were beautiful, just like Riley’s.

“What are you doing?”

“Hmm. Just looking for something.”

When he asked in a hushed voice, she answered in the same tone.

In the middle of the night? Suspicious, he watched as she muttered, “Ah, found it,” and stuffed a bundle into her bag.

‘Is she going out…? But she said she was off work today… Did something come up?’

Several questions popped into his mind, but he didn’t think much of it. He figured she was just being capricious, as usual.

With her bag in hand, his mother quietly walked out of the bedroom, careful not to make a sound.

“Um… Have a safe trip.”

“…Yeah.”

As she stepped outside, she paused and turned around.

“Take care, Riley.”

Her unusually affectionate tone made him feel proud—she had finally remembered his name. But as he lay back down, a foreboding thought crept in.

‘Do people usually say “take care” like that…?’

It was the kind of farewell you’d say if you weren’t going to see someone for a while. Not something you’d say to someone you see every day.

‘…She’s just been stressed lately.’

He shook off the ominous thought.

After all, they were always together. The whole family was working hard to escape this place.

We’re always together.

If we keep working hard, we’ll be able to smile together someday.

He closed his eyes, imagining the happy future they would eventually have.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was because of his father’s shouting.

“It’s gone! It’s gone! It’s nowhere!”

“…Dad?”

“The money’s gone! The money I saved! Even the little bit my father left me! All of it! She took everything and ran off! That damn woman—!!”

It felt like his breath had stopped.

“I even hid some under the floorboards—how did she find that, damn it!”

His father, who did odd jobs, and his mother, who worked at a bar, each managed their own money.

As for Riley’s money, aside from what he used to buy food outside, he gave it all to them.

Parents who couldn’t even give him a name wouldn’t respect his personal savings. Riley had also thought of it as funds to escape this place, so he didn’t mind.

He figured they wouldn’t spend it recklessly and would save it.

But this was the result.

“Damn it… Damn it!!”

Watching his furious father, Riley’s chest tightened.

‘If only I had stopped Mom last night…’

Even if he had tried, could he have stopped an adult?

‘If I had woken Dad up…’

She had made his father drink heavily. It was a calculated move.

Besides, it was already over. Regretting it wouldn’t change anything.

‘Take care, Riley.’

Her bright voice echoed stubbornly in his ears.

After that day, Riley lived as if he were dead and died as if he were alive.

Work, eat, sleep. Work, eat, sleep.

He emptied his mind and moved mechanically like a machine.

Rumors said his mother had run off with the wealthy customer she had mentioned before. The man had been pursuing her, and she hadn’t seemed to dislike his advances.

His father spent every day’s earnings on alcohol.

One day, he stopped working altogether and drank with money from who knows where.

One day, he was so focused on drinking that he stopped hitting Riley.

One day, he cried, laughed, got angry, and danced alone.

One day, he lay still and didn’t move anymore.

And then his father’s friends barged in.

“Hey! He literally drank himself to death!”

“He kept asking to borrow money. I knew this would happen.”

The men approached Riley, who was huddled in a corner, looking hollow.

“Hey, kid. You’re going to have to pay us back. Understand? Your old man borrowed money from us and then kicked the bucket. So you’re going to have to pay up.”

“But look at him—he’s skin and bones. Who’d even want him?”

“Who knows? He looks just like his runaway mom. Someone might buy him.”

As they reached out to grab him, Riley’s mind lit up with thoughts.

‘I’m just going to be victimized again…’

If they caught him, he’d probably be sold into slavery through some dark channel.

His life would be ruined by people he didn’t even know.

He’d never achieve his dream of escaping the bottom. Nothing would go his way.

A life where he just existed to breathe.

Even if his body and mind were battered, the world wouldn’t care.

He hated it so much.

So what he had to do was clear.

“Hey. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Let… let me go!”

He immediately ran for the door, but they caught him. No matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t overcome an adult’s grip. He was already small and frail.

But he didn’t stop resisting, and soon a dull pain spread across his face, making his head spin.

“Hey. Let’s do this the easy way, huh?”

The inside of his cheek was torn, and he tasted blood.

“Hey, don’t hit his face.”

Another man approached with a smirk.

What should I do? How can I get out of this?

In this unprecedented crisis, his mind raced faster than ever. Despite being exhausted and drained, he felt something surging within him.

“Haa… Haa…”

His senses sharpened, and his body felt like it was floating.

This had never happened before. His heightened senses weren’t limited to his body—it felt like he could grasp everything around him.

As if, by imagining it, he could make it move.

And then, something caught the sharp-eyed boy’s attention.

“Now stay still. Before I really lose my temper— Argh!”

What saved him in this crisis was the bottle of alcohol his father had cherished so much.

He imagined throwing it, and it hit the man square in the eye.

He didn’t use his hands. He just imagined it.

“What the… …Magic?”

He imagined throwing another bottle at the second man. This time, he imagined it shattering.

The result was the bottle exploding in mid-air, scattering shards everywhere.

The man’s face was pierced by several shards.

“Ah! Damn it!”

Taking advantage of the chaos, Riley ran out of the house and kept running.

He ran and ran and ran some more.

Exhausted and miserable, tears streamed down his face, but he didn’t stop running.

There was always a thought that came to him at times like this.

A phrase he repeated like a mantra when his heart felt like it was being crushed.

‘Everyone lives like this—’

“No!”

Not everyone lives like this!

Only the powerless live like this!

Only the weak, unrecognized humans live like this!

The heart he thought had melted away like smoke screamed.

Riley knew.

He knew that the life enjoyed by children outside the slums, in clean cities, was the normal life.

Only the powerless and poor in the slums live ‘like this.’ Everyone else has warm meals, warm homes, and warm parents.

“If only I had power…!”

He could have stopped his father’s violence.

He could have prevented his mother from running away.

He could have worked in a better environment, settled in a decent city, and studied.

He could have helped the old man who taught him to read.

He was so powerless.

If he had power, he wouldn’t have to feel this miserable in such a wretched place.

He hated being ignored. He was tired of feeling ashamed.

He hated swallowing his anger, deceiving himself with false hope.

He hated trembling in fear of the future while staring at the empty ceiling.

He just… just…wanted to be loved.

A harmonious family, a clean appearance, a recognized self.

That was why he had endured everything and worked so hard until now.

‘I hate it all…’

Hiding in a corner of a stationary wagon, Riley drifted away.

He couldn’t stay here anymore.

He wandered from city to city, stealing food and sneaking onto carriages. It wasn’t hard now that he could control magic.

He vented his anger all day, occasionally shedding tears, and kept wandering.

In the midst of it all, a burning determination took root in his heart.

The one thing that had built up through all this suffering:

‘I want to stand at the top.’

He had no family. He didn’t need one.

What he wanted was everyone’s recognition. His wounded heart could only be healed by being acknowledged by the world.

The pinnacle. The best. Number one.

A position where everyone would look up to him. The power to make that happen.

He wanted to be admired and loved, not ignored by everyone.

On the day his resolve burned so fiercely that no more tears came.

On the night when the moon was absent and only the stars twinkled.

A book lay in Riley’s arms as he slept in the ruins.

.

.

.

“Tommy, you brat! Why aren’t you standing there?”

The snot-nosed boy who was called by name stuck out his tongue as he ran, then stopped. Other kids quickly caught up and slapped his back.

The grubby kids played together in their grubby way.

Riley paused to glance at the scene before continuing on his way.

He was far from the city he used to live in. Over several months, he had traveled from the south to the north.

He thought it was time to settle down, so he went to any orphanage he could find. He laughed self-deprecatingly, thinking that even if he ran away from the slums, he’d still end up in one.

When he said he had been abandoned by his parents, he was met by a stern middle-aged woman.

“Name?”

“…”

Nameless orphans were common. The orphanage director didn’t ask further and was about to give him a random name.

“…Tommy. Tommy.”

It just came to him, and he spoke.

It was a name he had heard countless times on his journey. There were probably hundreds of kids with the same name.

A common, ordinary, insignificant name.

That’s why he chose it.

‘Riley’ was the boy with a bright future, recognized by all.

The current him was just ‘Tommy,’ a pitiful slum kid.

He was ashamed of himself, still stuck in the slums even after running away. He wanted to deny that this was his true self.

Maybe he wanted to hide the dirty, gloomy life he led from his mother, who was living comfortably somewhere.

He covered his golden hair, just like his mother’s, with dirt. He changed his name. He erased his past.

The day he would use his real name again was the day he would rise out of this dark muck.

A starting point where no one could ignore him. The day he could stand tall without fear in front of anyone.

Only then would Riley return.

“—Why do you trust me?”

Memories of the past flashed by.

After going through those events, the boy’s self-esteem had hit rock bottom. He believed the current him was nothing more than an empty shell of a person.

To break through that, he chose the path of a mage—a dream of a respected position at the pinnacle.

Fortunately, he had talent and a grimoire. For some reason, it had chosen him as its master but he still had a long way to go. Without a proper teacher or staff, he was treated as a quack or a member of a criminal group.

He couldn’t reveal the grimoire to the world.

So he planned to finish deciphering it quickly and, based on the accumulated knowledge and abilities, either gain a sponsor or become a disciple to step into the light.

He thought the ‘unavoidable sacrifices’ along the way didn’t matter. It was the selfish attitude he had learned in the slums—that it was their fault for being weak.

But then there was a girl who cut through all that.

That sunny girl always threw herself into proving her trust in the boy.

She risked her life, did dangerous things, and even ran to his aid like a beam of light today.

It was so strange.

Was there a reason for her to go this far?

He had no confidence in himself, nor in the girl who believed in him.

So he asked.

Why do you trust someone as insignificant as me so much? Why do you try to protect me?

After a brief pause, Sugar’s lips moved.

He silently watched her.

“Alright. Let’s start with a hug.”