Ragar

Then, they began exchanging glances with one another, before finally returning their gaze to him, their expressions downcast and filled with concern.

It was so obvious it almost felt refreshing.

They understood, of course.

As long as Rocco carried the blood of the Di Malvento family, he would inevitably be dragged into a bloody arena one day.

It was only natural to start preparing for that now.

In fact, it was the smartest course of action.

"Young Master Rocco... Ah, our Young Master Rocco has grown so magnificent..."

One of the muscular members, the leader with a shaved head, stepped forward.

He kneeled down and looked up at Rocco with a pained and sorrowful expression on his masculine face.

Without thinking, Rocco couldn't help but smile softly and stretch out his arms.

Although his small body couldn't reach the kneeled muscular man, he gave an annoyed little huff before issuing his instructions.

"...Crouch down. Hug me tight."

"Ugh!!"

The muscular, bald man let out a strange grunt as he bent down slightly.

Rocco immediately wrapped his thick arms around the man's broad neck and pulled him into a tight hug and whispered, "Thank you" into his ear.

"Thanks to all of you... ahem, thanks to you all, I've managed to survive up until now. Now it's my turn to protect you. I'm going to find some very strong allies, so wait for me."

With that, Rocco grinned smugly.

The muscular men didn't smile back in delight, though.

Instead, for some reason, they looked at him with expressions that seemed to say, Is this kid really going to be okay...?

How rude, Rocco though.

"I mean it. I'll really bring back some very strong allies," Rocco insisted, frowning.

The muscular men, instead of reassuring him, exchanged amused glances and nodded in a way that made it clear they were underestimating him.

Rocco puffed out his cheeks, trying to look cool and villainous.

He sighed, realizing that no matter what he said, they probably wouldn't believe him now.

It seemed like the only way to prove it would be to actually return with strong allies.

He had no choice but to accept that reality.

Without further delay, he weaved through the muscular men, walking briskly toward the gate.

"Ah! Young Master Rocco! Please wait!"

The muscular men with their massive bodies and deep voices tried to stop him, but Rocco simply ignored them and smoothly leaped from the carriage he had prepared earlier.

He swiftly turned his gaze away from the approaching group of muscular men and urged the horse into motion, riding off.

...

Rocco had arrived at the slums, the place where Sylas and Georgio the Hyena had first crossed paths.

Dressed in a jet-black robe with the hood pulled low to conceal his face, he made sure to keep his identity as a Di Malvento heir well hidden.

If he revealed who he truly was in a place like this, there were plenty of dangerous people who might target him.

He had to remain vigilant and cautious as he moved forward.