To be honest, Nazir couldn't care less about the misfortune befallen on some common beggar. This kind of things happened all the time. And even if he 'saved' the beggar in this life, by the time his next life began, the beggar will face the same fate all over again.
That's how futile everything is to him.
But his whole body was tense with anger and anguish from his recent rebirth. He needed an outlet. And here it was one such opportunity presenting itself.
The punch made a loud crunching sound and his own knuckles throbbed painfully. This new body of his was that of a scrawny scribe-to-be, but his mind was still more of an 'Astan the Mercenary' and not yet fully accepting his new life as 'Nazir the Scribe'.
He still remembered all too vividly how to roll his knuckles, how to angle his swing and hit the opponent's weakest spot. The other thugs didn't have enough time to react before he grabbed the stumbling first one by the collar and kneed him by the crotch. A pitiful inhuman wail was heard. There's no such thing as playing clean or dirty in a fight.
The wailing startled the other thugs from his surprise attack. A full blown brawl exploded. They threw punches at him and he repaid the courtesy in kind. He hit the throat of one, used two fingers to attack another's eyes, and he threw an uppercut using the heel of his palm to the nose of others.
The fight consoled his heavy heart. Reignited within him something hot and blazing.
This is nothing compared to his last stand against Ravana and his army. These thugs looked like harmless puppies, asking for playtime that's slightly on the rough side, that's all. The ammas around them were screaming again and started to disperse, running away from such brutality.
Too bad, ammas, you people better get used to this quickly because in a few years these streets will be washed with more blood.
His own blood was spilling, from his nose, lips, the cuts above his eye. The blood made it difficult for him to see from one eye and the thugs quickly gained an upper hand. They held him back, strong arms wrapping from behind him.
"Crazy bastard!"
"Finish him off!"
'Finish him off', they said! Ha! Finally something good! He was going to escape this shitty start in Antieum anyway and now someone else would do the hassle of sending him to his next life. Thank you. He's really grateful. But...
"Already?" he croaked out, a frenzied smile wide on his beaten face. "Too soon, we're not finished playing yet."
"...This crazy—"
"AAAGH!"
He lunged forward unexpectedly, his jaw opened wide before clenching tightly on the sweaty neck of one thug. It tasted disgusting. He bit so hard he started to taste blood. Was he trying to rip the guy's throat? Probably. The arms holding him were now punching him, others clawing at him to get him off the unfortunate prey. There were so many yelling around him. Too many.
"AAAGH! AAAACK—"
"Demon! He's a demon!"
Was he? Maybe he was. He's been fighting against demons so many times, he probably became more like them in the end. They finally managed to pry him off the pitiful thug but not before he ripped out a chunk of flesh. The crazed looking young disciple swayed unsteadily on his feet, spitting out the chunk of flesh.
He let out a dreadful smile.
His lower face drenched in so much blood that it dripped all over his chest too. A bunch of thugs were shivering across him, their knees weak with fear, unable to take them far enough from the demon incarnate.
"D-demon... A demon in Antieum..." their voice was trembling.
"Demon, you say... Yes, that's probably true. Now, see? Do you see?"
The nearest stalls had emptied themselves. It's much more quiet now. Good, that suited him better. Now they could have a civilized conversation like proper men should.
"I've been trying to tell you people..." he wheezed out an exasperated sigh, combing back the hair that fell on his sweaty, bloodied forehead. "I've been telling you that more demons will come, see? I've warned you so many times but you people never believed me."
He took an unsteady step forward. The thugs were mostly had their butts on the ground, trying to scoot away with chattering teeth. The one he had bitten was paling, one hand uselessly cover the gaping wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. His friends propped him up pitifully, they're trying to make a careful retreat away from the crazed Nazir.
"He will come to us soon, can't you see? Why won't you believe me? His horde will feast on our entrails—"
"W-we believe you, O' Great One! O' Knowing One! We believe you!"
"—ah, alright. Good. That's good. Believe me. No, why are you people prostrating at me? Get up. I am not done yet—"
"Hiii!"
"Spare us! Please spare us!"
They're screaming again. So noisy. He should shut them up so he could tell them clearly what calamity would befall them in a few years. But someone was holding his arm and stopped him at his track. It wasn't the forceful hold like the thug's that was grappling with him before.
The one holding him was the scrawny beggar.
The one that caused this commotion and was quickly forgotten to the side as Nazir was brawling with the thugs.
"Let them go," said the beggar mildly with a strange look in his eyes.
Nazir couldn't tell what kind of look it was exactly. It was devoid of fear, unlike the stares of the thugs toward him. There was something like awe there, but mostly the little beggar looked annoyed. Disappointed, even. It sobered Nazir back a little.
"I saved you," he said, frowning. "You should be grateful."
"I didn't ask you to..." muttered the beggar impudently, then with a quieter voice he continued. "At least not yet."
"'There are guards for that', is that what you're thinking?" said Nazir flatly, cocking his head in question. "Then, crazy one, do you wish for me to continue what those thugs had been doing to you?"
"That—"
The last one wasn't a question, and Nazir wasn't waiting for a response. He had already grabbed the beggar's ragged collar and punched him so hard the beggar was thrown to the ground. He no longer paid any attention to the thugs that were running away from them while screaming bloody murderous demon.
The area of the market they were in was quickly deserted. The only sound filling the space was his punching the beggar. His knee were on the beggar's stomach, his knuckles bloodied, and the beggar's face was in an even worse condition.
"Do you wish to see what I've seen?" said Nazir in a daze between punches.
"Do you wish to feel what I've felt?" Punch. Punch. Blood splattering.
He stopped punching and instead wrapped his hands around the beggar's throat. Leaning down, he hissed, not realizing hot droplets of tears were streaming down from his eyes.
"Those demons are far worse than me. Can't you understand? They're so cruel and we can't run away from them."
He was strangling someone in the open. He's killing a person in public. The guards would catch him soon and he would be publicly executed. Then his next life would begin anew. Just another place, another body. The same thing would start all over.
"I've lost... everyone," he choked, spittle gushed from his clenched teeth. The beggar's dirty black hair splayed on the ground, those dark eyes would rolled back, that sickly pallor of his face would turn into a deathly one soon.
And Nazir couldn't stop himself.
"I've tried... So, so many times. But he always came in the end. Make it stop. Please, make it stop. No more... I SAID NO MORE! NO MORE!"
A tap weakly patted his knuckles, but the light touch felt like freezing water. Just then Nazir realized that the beggar hadn't tried to struggle before at all. He quickly released his grip, as if disgusted by what he had done, and shot back up, stumbling away from the wounded beggar. The young beggar coughed and groaned, then he pointed his finger.
"G-guards..."
Nazir didn't respond. Just as well. A quick and easy death, he thought to himself. Fatigue set in. Fatigue from his long, never-ending lives. He longed for the mercy of madness. Longed to forget himself, to lose reasons and be just like a mindless animal.
For a moment, he wanted to apologize and told the beggar to go to an ashram where a rishi named Vandrabad was. To get his wounds healed, where he could be fed and taken care of properly. But it would be useless. Once Nazir got executed, this universe would no longer exist. At least that was what an asura once told him in one of his previous life.
His head started to throb in pain. Make it stop, he thought. He wanted it to be over.
"—yet..."
A weak voice pulled him out of his daze and Nazir looked up.
"Not yet, don't despair yet," said the beggar weakly. He groaned, holding his stomach and raised a trembling hand on Nazir's direction.
"H-help me up. I know a way."