VII
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Arc VII Chapter 18
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19th Aqua Solar XI AAC 753
“Aargh.” Johann winced, his feet staggering forwards, barely able to stand. It hurt. His hand clamped his guts as his body convulsed. He ground his teeth, suppressing the pain, but the pain was sharp and glistening. It numbed his senses and blurred his sight. As it turned out, his new friends were not bluffing. The bastards were serious. Their fists struck hard. What they lacked in brain, they easily compensated with brawn. And such was the only thing these men needed in their line of work.
Three men surrounded him, their boots planted firmly on the stone. Callous, cruel, bearded, reeking of cheap ale and beer, the men were your usual bunch of thugs, debt collectors of the more unsavoury kind. Unfortunately for Johann, the ruffians knew their métier rather well. The alley ... They had been waiting for him. They knew that he would pass through. They knew that no one would come. He had fallen right into their trap.
He had always told Master Severin that it was a bad idea to borrow that much money. He had told him that the moneylenders were dangerous. They would not remain idle forever. Interest did not sleep. Eventually, the bankers would come knocking on your door to get their due. And they would see to it by all means necessary.
One of the men grinned at him, his shoulders broad, his neck thick, a bull of a man. The man cracked his knuckles, his hands jagged and scarred. The grin on his face widened, his broken teeth showing. The promise of pain was clear. He was eager to deliver, and Johann winced. He knew only far too well what to expect. He was too young to die. He had barely passed his seventeenth birthday.
His fist struck once more. The bull struck hard and fast, without mercy, without relent. He rammed his fist right into his unprotected abdomen.
“... ... ...” Johann flinched, all air escaping his lungs. His ribs and guts suffered the worst. The pain was too much for him. He collapsed, sinking to his knees. His entire body twitched, convulsing on the ground among the dirt and the filth of the street. He felt like throwing up. He could already sense the acid crawling, climbing up his throat. All while the ruffians stood over him, watching him. His sight entertained them.
The man in charge of them stepped forwards, armed with a conceited smirk. From what he remembered, his name was Dietrich. The man visibly enjoyed his power. He leaned downwards, towards him, his face close, directly in front of him. The man shook his head, sighing, his voice filled with mock sympathy. “Johann ..., Johann ... Didn’t we tell ya dat ya always gonna meet twice in life? So, wot’re we gonna do wit’ ya dis time? ’Cause it’s always tha same wit’ Severin, ain’t it? Why does tha arsehole need ta give us dat much trouble? Seriously, Ai don’t get it. It ain’t arcane magic. Be a good, little citizen, an pay yar frackin’ debts on time. Everybody’s happy, an nobody gets into trouble. Ain’t that difficult, right?”
Johann raised his gaze, gasping heavily, “Spirits dammit, I told you, just give us some time. One more week! One week is all Master Severin needs! He’ll repay the debt! Promised!”
The man in charge shook his head, disappointed with his answer. It was not what Dietrich and his men wanted to hear. “Oh, one more week ... Listen, Johann, yar fuckin’ dimwit of a masta told us tha same thin’ last month, tha month before, an tha month ’fore dat. All we get frum ya two is just excuse after damn excuse. At tha end of tha day, we’re still hyer, still without a single taler to show fer. We’re fuckin’ tired of it. Masta Matthias is, too. Masta is a patient man, but ’is patience is runnin’ thin. He wants ’is damn coin. An he wants it now, capeesh? So whar’s ar fuckin’ coin, boy?!”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“...” Johann grew increasingly silent. This time, they were serious. Obviously, they would go for him first. And obviously, he would have no money to speak of. How would he? He was just a mere apprentice. “But ... But ... I don’t have any money ... I’m just an apprentice! You know that!”
Dietrich spat onto the ground beside him, openly sneering at him with contempt. “Look at me, lad! Do Ai look like Ai give a damn shit? Apprentice or not, yar dim witted arsehole of a masta owes us a fuck ton of money. An dis time, we won’t take no fer an answer.”
“...” Johann paled, the fear on his face palpable. He had a bad feeling about this.
The man in charge turned to his underlings, both of them the epitome of a brute. “Ulrich, Hans! Get ’im, boys! Teach ’im a frackin’ lesson!”
“Yes, Chief”, the men grunted and obeyed. As expected, neither of them treated Johann with much delicacy.
His henchmen grabbed him by the collar and hauled him upright like a rag doll. They pressed him against the wall behind, rendering him unable to move. Danger glinted in their eyes. The smirks on their lisp spoke for themselves. He was in for a bad time.
Johann stuttered, his words stuck in his throat. “Hey, hey, wait a moment! No need to resort to violence! Not when we can resolve things peacefully!” Hopefully.
He was already internally praying to any god, deity, spirit, saint, and any other entity in existence that he knew. If one of them was truly out there watching over him, then they would surely come to his rescue! Unfortunately, reality was quick to crush his hopes. No one was out there. No one would come to save. In the end, he was all on his own, alone with them in an alley.
Dietrich clicked his tongue, his voice laced with derision. “Listen, lad, it’s a tad too late now for dat. Ulrich, Hans, give the boy a little reminder of wot happens wen ya don’t pay yar debts. Don’t rough ’im up too badly. We still need ’is sorry arse fer later.”
One of his underlings grinned at him. “Ya heard the chief, lad, time ta crack some bones. Wot should we start wit’? Wit’ yar legs. Yar hands. Or maybe wit’ yar face. Ya’ve got a pretty face thar.” The decision was taken. The man raised and clenched his fist. He was about to strike. “Trust me, dis is gonna hurt ya lots more than me.”
“... ... ...” Johann swallowed hard. This was going to be his end, was it not? He closed his eyes and started praying, expecting a fist that never arrived.
...
...
...
He waited, and waited, and waited. Much to his surprise and relief, nothing happened. Somehow, he was still conscious. Somehow, his poor face was still intact.
“...” Johann opened his eyes tentatively, and what he saw left him speechless. A pebble, a mere pebble, struck the man in front him. It hit him right into the face, straight against his temple, before harmlessly falling onto the ground. The pebble struck hard and fast, with a force and speed that defied its small size.
The rock sent the man reeling backwards, his hands immediately reaching for his temples. “SPRITISDAMMIT, FUCK! Fuck! Fuck! Shit, it farckin’ hurts!”
“Wot tha fuckin’ hell! Wot’s frackin’ goin’ on hyer?!” Dietrich exploded, completely furious. The man was livid, his eyes immediately searching for the culprit. “Who’s tha little piece of shit throwin’ this damn pebble?!”
All gazes turned towards the entrance of the alley. There his saviour and benefactor stood in all her splendour, the sunlight illuminating her figure. The sight of a cute little girl greeted him, one short and petite in stature, with exceedingly long, fluffy black hair, an endearing round face, a lovely bow on her head, and a cute satchel at her side while being dressed in cosy adventurer’s clothes. The girl hugged her doll in her arms close to her chest, as if it was her most precious possession.
All in all, the girl was simply adorable. She looked more like the sweet little sister that everyone wished for rather than the genuine saviour that he had hoped for. Her evident cuteness aside, her arrival was far from unwelcome, albeit Johann was now majorly concerned about her safety. A little girl barely old enough to be called a girl against three thugs ... Three aggravated thugs ... These were not necessarily the best odds.
Dietrich narrowed his eyes, seething, glaring daggers at the poor girl. “...”
And yet, his saviour remained entirely unimpressed, hardly bothered at all by the man’s glare. The girl merely tilted her head, a simple smile on her lips that contrasted starkly with her innocent appearance. Her smile was utterly cold and frigid, without even a shred of human emotion. Her smile ... It was ominous. It was eerie, unsettling, disturbing in a way that could not be described. You just knew that something was wrong.
The girl beamed, her voice laced with a sweet, innocent lilt, “Pardon my untimely intrusion, my friends, but what exactly are you doing there~?”
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