Quint froze.
His body locked in place, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. He wanted to help his mother. He wanted to fight.
But he knew the truth.
He was weak.
He doubted he could defend his mother from an ordinary man—let alone his master.
That man was too strong.
In the five months of training under him, Quint had come to understand the sheer depth of his master's power. The man could end his life with a single touch.
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
Then—his master's gaze shifted.
Their eyes met.
Quint snapped his head back, heart pounding.
He saw me!
The realization struck like a dagger.
Trying to suppress his panic, Quint moved as fast and as quietly as possible, fleeing the house. His breath came in short, erratic bursts.
He felt sick.
He had left his mother behind.
He felt ashamed. Guilty. But... he had to live.
If he died here, his mother's death would go unwitnessed.
No.
He had to survive.
He had to be the one to remember.
Desperate, he ran to the puppy's house and crawled inside. His body curled up beside the small creature, his entire frame trembling.
The puppy tilted its head, confused, but remained silent.
Seconds stretched into agonizing minutes.
Then—
The puppy perked up.
Its tail wagged, ears twitching.
Quint barely had time to turn his head before he saw them—
A pair of adult shoes.
Right in front of the door.
His body convulsed in terror.
"How long do you plan on hiding in there?"
The voice was familiar. Calm. Amused.
His master.
Quint held his breath.
A shadow crouched near the door. His master tilted his head slightly, peering into the cramped space where Quint was curled up like a cornered animal.
"Come out. We need to talk."
"No."
The man raised a brow. "Why?"
Quint swallowed hard. "You'll kill me if I come out."
His master blinked. For the first time, there was actual confusion in his expression.
"Kill you? Why would I want to kill you?"
Quint's voice trembled, but he forced himself to speak.
"You killed my mother. I saw you. And now… now you want to kill me too."
Tears streamed down his face, but his voice remained calm. He refused to let his fear show.
The man stared at him.
Then, suddenly—
He laughed.
A deep, genuine laugh, as if he had just heard the most ridiculous joke in the world.
He laughed so hard that he fell onto the ground.
Quint squinted at him, confused.
"I didn't kill your mother."
"You're lying! I saw you! You covered her nose—you suffocated her!"
His master chuckled again, shaking his head. "No, no, no. I didn't kill your mother. I wouldn't kill your mother, or your father, or your sisters. I wouldn't even kill your puppy."
Quint said nothing.
The man's tone softened, but it remained amused.
"I would rather die myself than harm your family."
"I don't believe you," Quint said firmly.
His master sighed. "Then I'll prove it."
Standing up, the man pulled out his phone. He dialed a number.
A moment later, a familiar voice answered.
His mother's voice.
Quint's breath hitched. He shoved his head forward—but his master quickly put a finger to his lips, signaling him to stay silent.
"Why did you leave immediately after?" his mother asked, her voice carrying a slight playfulness.
"I heard your puppy crying," his master replied smoothly. "I went to check on it to make sure it was okay."
Then—
His body jerked backward.
An invisible force struck him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.
His mouth twitched. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips.
Quint stared.
"Is the puppy okay? Did it hurt itself?" his mother's voice asked, concern evident.
His master exhaled sharply, wiping the blood from his nose.
"Yes, it's fine. Just had a tiny piece of gravel stuck in its paw. But… I took care of it."
His words strained, as if he was physically forcing them out.
"Good. I'm going to freshen up. If you want to join me—"
"I can't," he cut her off. His gaze flickered toward Quint. "I have… something to take care of."
His mother hummed in disappointment before the call ended.
Silence filled the air.
Quint swallowed hard. "You're bleeding."
The man smirked, wiping away the remaining blood with the back of his hand. "I have a soul-binding vow to serve your family."
His voice was calm.
"Any betrayal would harm me. Even a lie."
He winked, completely unfazed by the blood dripping from his lips.
Quint's mind reeled.
"Then… what were you doing to my mother?"
His master exhaled. "I'll explain. But not here."
He stretched out his arm. "Let's get some ice cream."
Quint stared at the offered hand for a moment.
Then, slowly—he reached out and took it.
"I love your mother."
His master's words were calm. Matter-of-fact.
Quint licked his ice cream. "I love my mother too." His voice was neutral.
His master chuckled. "What I did to her… was my way of showing that love."
Quint's brows furrowed. "It looked like you were hurting her."
The man smirked. "No. I can assure you—she enjoyed it. A lot."
A faint blush colored his cheeks. "You'll understand when you're older."
Quint stared.
"So… does that mean my mother loves you too? But she's married to my father."
The man sighed, then chuckled. "Your mother loves your father."
He spooned another bite of ice cream before continuing.
"Your father is a great soldier. I admire him. That's why I chose to serve him. But during his last battle, he was badly injured. It made him… unable to show his love to your mother physically."
Quint remained silent.
"Your father gave me permission to… satisfy her, so she wouldn't suffer. Since she didn't want to hurt his feelings, we keep it a secret."
Quint just stared at him blankly.
His master chuckled.
"Anyway, before all that, your parents already had your two sisters. But your father desperately wanted a son."
Quint blinked. "So… am I your son?"
His master laughed.
"No, my boy. Though I wouldn't mind having a son like you."
Quint lowered his gaze. He always wondered why he looked so different.
"Your parents adopted you from a poor country on East continent. That's why you don't look like them."
Quint nodded slowly. "Thank you… for picking me."
His master smiled. "It was my pleasure, my boy."
Then—
"Promise me something."
Quint looked up.
"Don't let your mother know what you saw in the kitchen."
"Why?"
His master smiled. "Because things would be… complicated."
Quint was silent for a moment. Then—
"Okay."
-
"Hey, Quite Rauss! You know 'Quite' is too good for you, right? I mean… you're not even a quarter of a Rauss! Hahahaha!"
Laughter erupted among the boys, echoing through the hallway.
They quickly turned their taunts into a chant.
"Quite Rauss! Quite Rauss! How can he be a Rauss? He has no Rauss blood! He's just a yellow mouse taken in as a Rauss! That's why we call him Quite Rauss!"
More laughter. Fingers pointing. Smirks of mockery.
A small girl with straight bangs suddenly appeared beside Quint Rauss.
"Ignore them," she muttered, clearly irritated.
Quint's face remained blank. "I don't mind at all. It's a fact."
It had been two years since he started at this elementary school. His eldest sister had already left for junior high, and without her presence, the bullies had returned.
They tried.
But Quint wasn't bothered.
He had grown to be a boy without emotions. Not because he suppressed them, but because they simply didn't surface.
Happiness. Sadness. Excitement. Anger.
He rarely felt any of it.
Their insults fell into a void.
The only one who seemed bothered was the little girl who had befriended him on his second day at school.
She snorted in frustration, crossing her arms.
Quint simply closed his locker and turned toward her. "Let's go. The bell will ring soon."
She huffed but followed him.
-
A few days later, Quint Rauss walked home as usual.
His school was only a few blocks away, but instead of taking the pedestrian path, he preferred the shortcut—through the district's small forest.
The air was cooler there, shaded by towering trees, offering relief from the scorching summer heat.
His small friend followed a few steps behind, as always. She lived two houses down from his, so he didn't mind.
But as they approached the path, Quint's eyes narrowed slightly.
A group of figures blocked the way ahead.
He sighed.
Them. Again.
The same group of boys who tried to bully him at school.
The huge one in the middle grinned. "Here he is… Quite Mouse!"
His gang laughed, shifting their stance to block the entire path.
The little girl beside Quint glared at them, stepping forward. "What do you want?" she snapped.
The boys, rather than being intimidated, laughed even louder.
"Is she your girlfriend, Mouse?" The huge boy smirked, reaching out as if to touch her.
She dodged, stepping back.
Quint sighed. Without a word, he gently pulled her behind him, shielding her with his back.
"Leave her alone," he said, his tone calm.
The huge boy snickered. "Aw, the mouse is protecting his girl."
Quint didn't flinch. His voice remained flat.
"She is not my girlfriend. She has nothing to do with me. Mock me all you want. Just leave her out of this."
The huge boy's smirk widened. "Or what?"
Before Quint could respond—
"Or my father will discipline your father for failing to control his son."
The little girl spoke before he could.
A hush fell over the group. One of the boys leaned toward the huge one, whispering something.
The huge boy's eyes widened slightly.
Then—he grinned.
"Ohhh, so you're Colonel General Andrew's foster daughter?" His gaze flicked back to Quint. "Nice move, Mouse. You picked the right girl to be your girlfriend."
He waved his hand, and his gang stepped aside.
Quint wasted no time. He grabbed the girl's hand and walked through the gap, making sure she remained behind him.
They had almost passed the group when—
"Although… if I were you, I'd cut my dick off and start wearing a dress."
The huge boy sneered.
Laughter erupted behind them.
Quint tightened his grip on the girl's hand, signaling her to keep walking.
But the boy wasn't finished.
"He's been hiding behind girls all his life. First, his big sister… now his girlfriend."
More laughter.
Quint kept walking.
Then—
The huge boy raised his voice, making sure every word hit.
"Speaking of that slut, my cousin is her senior now. Maybe I'll ask him to take care of her. You know… maybe rip her mouth so she can't run it anymore—"
Quint stopped.
The girl barely had time to react.
In a single motion, he released her hand—spun on his heel—and ran.
Straight at the huge boy.
Before anyone could move—
A fist. Small. Compact. Precise.
It slammed into the huge boy's chest.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
The huge boy flew backward, his body crashing into his friends like a row of bowling pins.
Blood burst from his mouth.
His eyes—wide, unfocused—stared blankly at Quint.
His mouth opened… gasping for air.
But nothing came.
His lungs—collapsed.