Back in Forest city, Wilson felt terrible. He was captured by the noble family whose son he had beaten up. He was tortured for days until he 'mistakenly' spilled the beans on his village. Luckily, they did not care about a remote, uncivilized place like that.
The nobles gathered together in a very large, luxurious room . they were beginning to get frustrated with the fact that he was unwilling to reveal anything to them. They believed he had a secret backer somewhere in this city. How else could he have managed to hide from the police and the nobles and any slight sign of civilization for so long after he was successfully broken out of prison. They all saw him kill and seriously injure so many people before he was finally knocked out. With that kind of exhaustion, not to mention the amount of blood he lost while fighting, there was no way he could have snuck out of the prison hospital two hours later all by himself and without anyone noticing.
"Nope, that is just not possible. And do you think that is not enough? Think about it. Half a year later he is back on his feet, completely healed up with only a few scars to show for it. He has added a little more weight, which by the way, only helped to further emphasize his chiseled muscles and he came back stronger and more skillful than before. He actually nearly got us killed and he knows every single possible hideout in the city even more than we, the ones who actually live here."
"There has to be at the very least an informant somewhere in our great city. Somewhere we have not looked!" Principal Cobain said with an annoyed look.
"The slum!" Ruthless' swordsman finally spoke up. " the slum is the only place men are unwilling to check.
"And why is that? Did I not pay enough?" Ruthless shouted in anger. His deep angry scowl became even more visible making his angry face even angrier.
"They are unwilling to go because no man should be capable of living there."
"Why?"
"Because, there are so many bloodthirsty beasts in there, it is simply impossible to live there. The longest any man managed to survive there was twenty minutes." The swordsman explained. The nobles frowned, then nodded. Ruthless was not satisfied though.
"And that's why you can't afford to enter. I did not know you have become senile." Ruthless ruthlessly said. His swordsman had no reaction on his face and simply continued to explain himself.
"The commoners call it 'the devil's home', because so many people have died there, negative energy has accumulated over time. There are also those who go there to commit suicide. Apparently, as soon as you enter the slum, they come after you so fast, you die in ten seconds, which is faster than dying from blood loss or hanging. If we add the negative energy already there with that of those many people who decide to end their lives there, you can only imagine how much must have accumulated over decades."
"So what? That is what has got you shaking?"
"I went there myself, sir. The negative energy is so condensed, there is a thick dark mist that no amount of light and purifying powers or magic could clear off. Not to mention, going near the slum is enough to make one go mad! I have already lost three brave men, including a light magician, because of that.! No human can hide there!"
The nobles nodded in agreement. They had all heard of the slum one way or the other from their workers' mouths and seen them shiver as soon as it was mentioned. They just did not know it was this scary.
"So, what do we do now?"
"I have invited a mind reading magician from tiger city. she will be here in give or take, another one week." Baldy said.
"That is too long!" Ruthless said.
"Calm your balls! Unless you can find a way to read that boy's mind before then, we have no choice but to wait!" Principal Cobain said.
"in the meantime, we have to stop torturing the boy. He needs to be alive and mentally sane for it to work. She said he must not be allowed to starve or completely go insane."
Ruthless grunted angrily;
"We even have to feed him now?"
"Seems like it!" the beautiful middle-aged woman said.
*********************
Wilson's village was invaded by the henchmen of the noble family whose son he slapped into a restaurant. His legs were broken and so were his hands. He was then tied to a tree and carried along so he could watch his village get destroyed. He watched the henchmen cut down all the men and old women down. The village was pillaged of every good or expensive looking thing there. And, as is common among bastards like them, the young girls were gathered and taken to different houses where they were used to blow off some steam.
Wilson saw a burly man pull a beautiful lady by the hair.
"Hehe, this one is good at hiding. I wonder what else she is good at." The burly henchman said,saliva dripping out of his mouth like an animal.
"Mum?" Wilson unconsciously said.
"Oh?! This got more fun. Yo, Greg, when you're done, notify me. I hear mothers of stubborn kids are really sweet down there!" one of the men dragging Wilson said.
Greg, the burly man, just nodded his head and dragged Sylvia into the building he dragged her out of. He apparently wanted Wilson to see every face that was raped. Sylvia cried as she was being dragged and for the first time ever, screamed and cursed at her son,
"This is all your fault! The village is ruined because of you! I should not have birthed a son like you. I curse the day I met your father. I curse the day I conceived you. I curse the day I birthed you....."
The curses went on and on until it was not heard anymore. Soon after, it was replaced by the screams and pleas of the girls and women as the men had their way with them.
Wilson could only scream and curse and struggle but that was as much as he could do. He was so filled with rage and hatred for them and himself, he slowly ran mad. And all that was left in his mind was
'This is all my fault. I should not have been born. I ruin everything I touch. I am cursed. None of this would have happened if I had listened. I should have stayed in the village. I am a bastard...'
The background sound; pitiful screams of the unfortunate females, and the happy laughs and guffaws of the villains who worked for the nobles.