Chapter 18: Monster

A sigh left Liko's lips, as once again he was in unfamiliar territory.

He hated the feeling, despite seeing battle after battle, horrible atrocities that those at the bottom of society, living in the slums could see, he still found himself nervous.

It wasn't that he feared for his life necessarily, at this point he was a bonafide member of the organization he just hated new environments. It meant he had no control there, that he would have to rely on someone else.

The area he was in was strange. It was a room, completely white from top to bottom. There wasn't a soul inside, at least from what he could see.

He raised the golden sphere up to his mouth, he hesitantly swallowed it.

The feeling was odd, feeling like a cold rock but once it fully went down his windpipe the sensation ceased. With his 'medicine' being taken, he could direct his attention to more pressing matters.

Liko turned to his left, seeing Otis, now with his hood off having a smile plastered on his face.

The thought of having no control paled in comparison to the hostility he held for his guide.

So far, Otis had been the cause of two misfortunes for him. The first, being his current state of indentured servitude.

Liko's only goal in life was to get powerful, so powerful that no one could beat him or rather trap him in the mentality of a loser.

The second misfortune was whatever the last 10 minutes of his life had been; visiting the strange laboratory where his eyes were subjected to evolutionary mistakes of the highest order. Not to mention almost getting his head cleaved off by the scorpion-wolf, whom Otis had seen but neglected to warn him about.

If there was one thing Liko knew, it was that the man beside him could not be relied on or trusted in any capacity.

"Alright. So, this is the training room of the headquarters. Members come here of course to train, but other times it's to settle scores. If someone was wronged, like being left for dead during a mission or stealing some of their food during mealtime, stuff like that."

He started to walk forward, Liko following from behind as he continued speaking.

"The first rule of the organization is the most qualified leads, AKA the Boss. The second rule is obedience over anything else. If you're told one thing by your superior you follow it through, live or die. The third and final rule is never, and that means ever, give information out about our whereabouts."

At this point the pair came to a halt, reaching one of the four walls of the room. Otis turned to him. "Any questions?"

"Yeah. Just one, what does it mean to be the most qualified?"

"Simple. Be the strongest, most intelligent, and most resourceful. If you're all of those things, you head the organization."

"Is that really all?"

The question remained in Liko's head despite him having the skeptical mind that so desperately wanted to voice his concerns.

His reasoning for this was that so far, Otis had shown himself to be the least helpful with straightforward questions.

He had no doubt the man would either ignore him, say something cryptic, or outright laugh at him.

With all seemingly accepted from Liko's end to his own, Otis turned toward the wall. Now with his back to his scaled subordinate, he placed his hand on it.

There were a couple of seconds of silence before he suddenly pushed on it. The wall shook now, making a grating sound as it slid. Liko watched in shock as the wall, which was at least 10 feet tall, started to move with Otis' push.

He took a step forward, continuing to push on the wall as it moved more and more. On his tenth and final step, he released his hand from the wall, the sound of grating ending along with it.

In clear view now there was a wooden door to the left.

The blonde-haired man turned to it, reaching for the knob but stopped halfway, turning to glance at Liko, whose eyes were wide open as he stood, staring at the wall.

He had no idea the man was so strong. He couldn't understand how he was able to forcefully move the wall in such a way. It was clearly heavy, it didn't even appear like it could have been moved, yet this man could?

Liko wasn't sure if the man had muscles, seeing how he was wearing a robe that completely covered his body but he was strong at the very least. The thing more shocking than his strength however was how casually he did the action. Moving a wall that tall and heavy in the span of just a couple of seconds.

Otis smirked. "If you want to stop gawking feel free to head this way with me."

Liko perked up, realizing what he'd been doing. "Oh, right…"

With that, the door was opened and Otis walked through it.

Liko followed behind and the second he stepped through, the sight before his eyes left him speechless. He couldn't control the reaction on his face.

His lips, curled upward into a smile, not one that was full of smugness or confidence, it was a wide grin full of joy and awe.

'Ah. So this is Black Jack…'

***

Thwack

"How could you let this happen? You're a monster! I trusted you! How could y-"

"Lady Laura, that's enough."

John, with a red left cheek, held a dead-eyed stare as he accepted what had just happened. A little girl had slapped him.

The reasoning for her doing such a thing wasn't that simple but it was a fair analysis of the situation. In all honesty, he had expected this kind of reaction. He was surprised that she was stopped, however. The white-haired maid Ariene was holding her back.

Tears slowly fell down Laura's face as she tried squirming out of Ariene's grasp. She shouted. "Let me go! He didn't protect Daddy! Daddy's gone now and it's his fault! I hate him!"

John jolted up from his bed, the covers flying off of him. Sweat drenched his body as he was taking and releasing deep breaths.

It was dark in the forest he was in currently but that didn't register in his brain, mentally he was still at the mansion, and the sounds of her voice rang in his ears. Still breathing heavily, he sluggishly walked away from the campsite, leaving his companion Ashur, who was fast asleep alone.

That dream, rather, nightmare, was one all too familiar to him. It wasn't a production of his own mind, it had actually happened.

After the death of Mr. Meyers, before he could set out on his journey with Ashur, he'd decided to head back to the manor.

He was sure that the news of Mr. Meyers death reached the home long before he would but he needed to go nonetheless.

His aim was to apologize as well as tell how he wanted to make amends, however upon entering he was greeted by a girl, one who was releasing sounds of anguish and pain that one her age should never have had to.

It reminded him of his own screams, many many years ago. Unable to take it much longer he left, unable to say a single thing to the girl. All he could do was accept the slap and her rage with it.

Now, after traversing through the forest a little longer, passing the many trees and bushes he found what he was looking for; a stream, which he quickly knelt by, splashing his face with the water.

His breathing, which was uneven and heavy, finally slowed. The cool water was just what he needed to calm himself.

Now, with the moonlight shining down at him he stared at the stream to see his reflection. John looked at himself, noticing his blonde hair that was slightly ruffled. He was sullied, having some scuffs and dirt on his face but that was to be expected. He and Ashur had just cleared a monster cave a couple of hours prior after all.

They were decently battered, with John holding more proof of damage being taken than his companion, who merely had scuffs on his clothing. His face was as blemish free as a newborn baby.

John thought to himself.

It's been two months since we hit the road… I've gotten stronger but I still don't know if it's enough to take on Black Jack…

"Couldn't sleep?"

The monotone voice came from behind him. He snapped around quickly, but before he could raise his guard he recognized the individual. It was Ashur.

It was slightly more visible where he was now with the stream than the forest-covered area they slept in so he could see him clearly.

Ashur was giving him a curious look, one that was extenuated by his one good eye. The other was closed, the singular scar over the eyelid.

Despite John's recommendation a while ago he refused to get an eyepatch, saying something along the lines of it irritating his skin.

"Yeah... Something like that…"

He stood, starting to walk past Ashur toward the direction of the camp. A hand gripping his shoulder stopped him, however.

"Was it that same dream again? The one about Laura?"

"Yes…"

John responded, still facing the direction of the camp.

"I'm sorry you're dealing with that. I don't have the words to console you or give a solution to stop them. I'd just say you'll have to hope that once we take down the organization your mind will be at peace."

John turned, having a tired and strained grin practically beaming with desperation on his face.

"Yeah... Hopefully."