Chapter 2: A Clown!

Corpses lay scattered around, blood staining the ground, and in the midst of the grim aftermath stood a kid no older than twelve, coldly surveying the lifeless forms.

He muttered disdainfully, "...These guys were gangsters with such pathetic martial arts?"

Raymond shook his head, his face contorting with pain as he gritted his teeth.

He glanced at his trembling hand, realizing that his weakened body couldn't sustain the moves he had employed to defeat the gangsters.

"Ah, these are definitely torn..."

He furrowed his eyebrows, slowly making his way to a location etched in the memories of the malnourished kid whose body he now occupied, driven by the gnawing hunger within.

As he looked around, Raymond noticed that the other kids who had been with him had fled in fear.

He shook his head, muttering to himself, "...this might be for the best."

These kids had endured the hardships of the slum longer than Raymond had, so he trusted in their resilience.

Navigating through the buildings, he reached a small corner with a dilapidated table and a broken-down wooden storage area, resembling a former kitchen now reduced to ruins.

With a pained expression, he forced open one of the storage compartments.

"..."

His eyes fell on a loaf of bread. Ignoring the discomfort in his weakened body, Raymond seized the bread and began devouring it with an urgency born of hunger.

The taste of the bread hinted at its expiration, and he noticed discolorations as he consumed it.

Despite its questionable condition, he had no other choice but to press on.

In the midst of the crumbling kitchen, Raymond faced the harsh reality of survival, using whatever means were at his disposal to sustain himself in this unforgiving environment.

With the water barely trickling from the faucet, Raymond continued devouring the bread, occasionally pausing to sip from the questionable water source.

Confident in his tiny body's resilience, he knew he had built up enough immunity against the subpar food and the less-than-pure water.

His memories attested to the routine nature of these survival measures among the kids in the slums.

Some hadn't fared well, succumbing to poison or illness due to the lack of tolerance, but those who had roamed the slums with him had developed a certain resistance.

Finishing the bread and quenching his thirst, Raymond let out a burp, only to be met with unexpected pain from his sore and torn muscles.

He frowned as he sensed his consciousness gradually waning as his body's defense mechanisms kicked in.

Spotting an empty space beneath what seemed to be a sink, Raymond curled up in the cramped hiding spot.

The distant sounds of the slum became a mere murmur as he surrendered to exhaustion and pain, slipping into a restless sleep within the shelter of the dilapidated surroundings.

"Damn cockroaches!"

Raymond let out a sigh, his eyes fluttering open for a moment.

The dim light revealed a handful of cockroaches boldly exploring his weary body.

Powerless to shoo away these pesky invaders, he could only watch in resigned frustration as his surroundings blurred into darkness.

The weariness of his malnourished body pressed down on him.

His consciousness sought refuge in the fleeting tranquility of sleep, providing a temporary escape from the persistent discomfort.

Yet, the blissful respite was abruptly interrupted as his eyes snapped open.

Slowly extricating himself from his cramped spot, Raymond stood up. He furrowed his brow, acknowledging the lingering pain that clung to his every move.

Nevertheless, determined, he pressed on, noting the faint light piercing through the dilapidated ceiling, revealing that the night had given way to a new day.

"...Time to figure out where I am."

With a sigh, he navigated his way out of the slums, the dilapidated structures grudgingly relinquishing their hold on him.

Raymond emerged from the impoverished enclave and was met with an entirely different world. Towering structures loomed overhead, meticulously maintained in stark contrast to the ruins he had left behind in the slums.

He pressed on, unperturbed, despite the pointed fingers and judgmental glances of passersby.

The worn state of his clothes betrayed his past life in the slums, branding him as a beggar.

He harbored important questions about his location, eager to gather information. However, the people around him avoided him like a contagious disease.

"...Guess it's time for a quick wardrobe upgrade and a wash."

Raymond sighed, acknowledging the unspoken rejection, understanding his worn and dirty appearance didn't make the best first impression.

Nevertheless, he marched forward until abruptly halting his steps, a frown etching itself onto his face.

"What the heck is a beggar doing here?"

An annoyed voice echoed across the street, piercing the air as a plump, middle-aged man adorned in luxurious clothes bellowed at Raymond, his fat finger pointing accusatorily.

Curious onlookers turned their attention to the unfolding drama, pointing fingers of their own but making no move to intervene.

"It's just a show for them, huh?" Raymond muttered under his breath.

Maintaining a cold gaze with his crimson eyes, he casually observed a young lady, no older than twenty, who mirrored the disdain in her eyes with a dismissive air.

Unfazed by the confrontation, Raymond stood his ground.

The well-dressed man, infuriated by the beggar's nonchalant demeanor, scowled and menacingly closed in on him.

"You beggar, this isn't your place!" he shouted, his face inches away from Raymond's, who remained unfazed.

As the middle-aged man prepared for another outburst, he was suddenly taken aback by the beggar's crimson eyes, sending shivers down his spine.

"...Am I lacking some sleep?"

Dismissing the discomfort as a figment of his imagination, the well-dressed man's anger flared.

He swung his arm with determination to aim for a sharp slap to the beggar's head.

However, Raymond effortlessly evaded the strike with a slight movement, continuing to stride forward.

With a light kick to the middle-aged man's foot, the well-dressed individual found himself stumbling.

"Hmm? Wha?"

He widened his eyes with disbelief etched on his face as he crashed to the ground.

"My big baby!!"

The young lady that was with him immediately panicked as she screamed like a banshee and went after the middle-aged man to help him get up.

Observing the chaos, Raymond scoffed disdainfully, muttering, "What a clown..."

The onlookers stood in stunned silence, their fingers still pointing at the unfolding scene, murmurs rippling through the street.

Clearly, things weren't going as expected.

Raymond continued his walk, eventually escaping the busy street. Once in a more secluded spot, he pulled out something from his pocket.

"Let's check if you've got some cash since I need some..."

With a smirk, he revealed a wallet that seemed to materialize in his hand after dealing with the middle-aged man.

He was typically opposed to theft.

But for such a clown? It was an exception.

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