As John stepped into the house, a nauseating stench of alcohol overwhelmed him. On closer inspection, scattered throughout were bags of food and discarded bottles of alcohol.
John attempted to disregard the cursed odor, but it proved impossible. He started gathering the scattered items, attempting to clean up the place when a shout pierced the air, "You've arrived, you cursed boy!"
John raised his head, his gaze meeting a disheveled adult. The man showed clear signs of heavy drinking and smoking; his eyes were bloodshot. He held a glass of alcohol, and the strong smell of alcohol lingered in the air around him.
This was John's father, Michael Williams. He was a rank E hunter, so they lived in the outer part of the city. He had the potential to reach rank C, but after the incident that happened, he no longer cared.
It is worth noting that John lives in the country of Corthalia, which is considered the second-largest country on the continent of Elmeria. This city is divided into two parts, the outer and the inner. John and his family lived in the outer part where people below C rank lived.
While those with ranks higher than C lived in the inner part of the city, and of course, the inner area was better and more prestigious than the outer area, as all the guilds, branches of hunters' associations, and academies were all in the inner part.
"This is infuriating," John muttered as he witnessed his father berating him without any apparent reason.
Are you disregarding me, you little brat?" Michael continued to shout at John, and suddenly he hurled a bottle of alcohol in his direction.
A warning alarm blared in John's mind as he witnessed the alcohol bottle hurtling toward him. Despite attempting to evade it, the pain from the bruises hindered his movements. The bottle collided with his head.
"Arrrrrrgh!" John howled in agony, clutching his head as he felt the warmth of blood.
"Wait for me here and do not move, you bastard. I will teach you the consequences of your actions," his father scowled at him, shouting without a hint of concern for his son's bleeding. He then turned away, leaving John alone, and headed towards another room, unmistakably the kitchen.
"Damn it. This hurts so much," John complained, holding his bleeding head, watching his father's retreating figure. "I have to get out of here this man could kill me."
It is true that his father is a rank E hunter and an alcoholic, but he is still stronger than the average person. If a five-year-old reached F rank, he would become as powerful as a young adult. But this is impossible because awakening begins at the age of sixteen.
John struggled to move his weakened body until he reached the door. He left the house and began running, even though walking was a challenge.
John was not like the old John. He could not bear a father like that, and it was better for him to cut off all ties so he could do as he pleased. But why does he feel this way?
John disregarded the pain in his body and the peculiar sensations in his chest. He kept running without a clear destination in mind, just letting his feet carry him wherever they could.
"So, what's next?" John sat on a street corner, contemplating his future. Having no remaining relatives and having severed ties with all his friends after the demise of his family, he acknowledged that he no longer considered his father a part of his family.
John remained lost in his thoughts, oblivious to his surroundings. Unbeknownst to him, an elderly man stood nearby, observing him intently.
"Why are you sitting here, kid?" A rough voice startled John. Glancing up, he saw an older man with a weathered appearance. Despite the wrinkles and signs of aging, the man had a strong, sturdy build. His black hair had streaks of white, matching a similar pattern on his chin, and a long scar ran across his left eye.
"Who are you, old man?" John expressed his surprise. Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed the presence of the man beside him.
"Old man? Pfft." The man attempted to suppress his laughter, but failed and burst into laughter.
He noticed John's strange look at him and coughed , "Never mind, it's amusing because no one has called me old for a long time."
"So, who are you"
"Don't care who I am, boy, but you can call me Arthur. Tell me why you are here and why you have these injuries," Arthur said, looking intently at John.
"Why should I tell you?" John looked at Arthur strangely. He didn't know how long he had been here and why he had been watching him. He couldn't throw caution to the wind in such a dangerous world.
"Hmm, that's right." Arthur put his hand under his chin as he looked at John. He was interested in this child, he did not know why, but there was a strange feeling that he and this child had similar fates.
"You're obviously hungry. Let's go eat. I'll pay." Arthur smiled at John. Observing the boy's condition and his emaciated body, he recognized signs of malnutrition.
"Why should I..." John couldn't finish his words as the audible growl of his empty stomach interrupted him.
Arthur smiled and grabbed John by the collar and started running quickly. Johnny wanted to complain, but he couldn't speak because of the man's excessive speed. He's clearly awake.
'Damn it, why would a strong man like this target me?' John thought, continuously reviewing his options. However, it was evident that he had no choice but to surrender to reality.
After a few seconds, they reached the entrance of a restaurant, and Arthur gently placed John on the ground. "Damn," John cursed. He felt dizzy from Arthur's speed, and the urge to vomit surged within him, though he hadn't eaten anything today.
"Let's go in," Arthur smiled, patting John's back.