'What a piece of trash he is to talk to someone like me. If back in the orphanage those scums had the chance to land a punch on me, I will not let any single hair on me be touched!'
They say that it would be better to joke with a drunk person than someone who just wakes up. But we should also be aware that making jokes to a man who went from a hundred to one is worse than making fun of any of those two.
'What the hell is wrong with this guy!' the man with a large piercing on his ears thought to himself. He was with the large guy that easily fall to the ground due to some reason.
"You… useless piece of… shit!!"
Shouting I anger, indeed, Kriston knock the hell out of the man that was sitting on the road. It was lucky for them that no other vehicle passes by. Or… no vehicle dares to ride the same lane as these people rather.
"Shits are those that are seen on the road… dog's shit… like you"
"Forthoem!" the one with a large piercing shouted as his dear brother stand up and was about to charge at Kriston.
For a man like him who was never treated this way, it was such a humiliation. But Kriston didn't even bother saying such words. It may not be like what he usually was since he does mind the words that he speaks of. After all, as the bastard of the Laurent, it would be easy for others to find ways to bring him down. But now that he was Kriston, he cares no less about those things.
'After I gather some money, I will surely get sister Therese back. Finding ways to meet that damn Kriston would be a pain but letting them do as they please would be a problem. Say sorry for yourselves as you dare go against my way'
Darts started to fly on the side of Forthoem. He was a big guy which maid it easy for Kriston to land a hit on him. Fatimo was still hiding inside the truck. Not being able to do anything since he was scared to the bones.
'I am not really good with this kind of people, Theo, if only you are here…'
He mumbled to himself. Crying as Theo, his own guard was not with him.
'Please Kriston, make it out alive…'
Not seeing what was happening, all he can hear was the furious words of the big guy. He sound so mad and all.
"You… I will bring you to your fucking deathbed you scum!!"
Boiling in anger it made Fatty take a peek at what was happening. There he saw how Kriston throw darts as if he was just dancing with his hands. But the fact that the two guys was injured, in both face and feet, he can't help but make blink.
For a man like Kriston, with that body that looks so fragile, he can't help but think how talented he was to be able to match those two thugs.
'Wow...'
He can't help but admire how great Kriston was in his fighting skills. Even if he was just using that rod, he looks as if he was using a spear.
And in an instant, the two were beaten unconscious. Leaving them with nothing but body full of red makes that was made by his rod.
"K-kriston!"
Fatty shouted as he jump down the vehicle. "Are you alright?!"
He shouted in concern as he was surprised to see him have a blood on his cheeks.
"Oh no, you have a wound!"
He panickily shouted as he run inside the truck to get something. Kriston then notice how the man named Forthoem move as he tried to reach him. With no further ado, his rod hit his hand red. It then landed on the back of his neck, making him fall unconscious at last.
"Here! Put this as you clean your wound!"
Giving him a clean cloth to wipe the blood on his cheeks, he also handed some bandage.
"It was just a light scratch from the blade I used a while ago-"
Not being able to listen to his explanation, Fatimo is now talking to a weird rectangular box.
"Yes, I am near my warehouse when two man started to block my way and eve threatened me to give them my supplies. Yes, please go here immediately"
A confusion struck in Kriston as he saw that weird communication device.
It was way large to be called a phone and it was all wires and all. 'Is that the telephone in this world? Just how far are them to the modern world I once lived?'
"The patrol will arrive soon, thank you for capturing them, I almost thought that I would d-d-di-did-di"
With him stuttering like a broken radio, his hand was pointing somewhere behind Kriston.
'Huh? What is he talkin…'
Looking at his back, his eyes was covered by some sack as darkness covered his sight. And that is what his last memory before he knew himself kneeling in front of a man sitting in a grandiose seat. Throwing him the cigar that he had, it roll towards Kriston's knee.
That is when their eyes met, an eye having a scar from his forehead to his ear. Someone with a face that you wouldn't want to mess with.
"Boss! It was that brat who made my feet like this!"
His menacing eyes would surely make someone shiver is fear, but the fact that Kriston was as calm as ever, the man that was called boss can't help but have a smirk on his face.
'Interesting…'