In front of him stood a man with a regal and majestic look. His clothes were royal and dazzling, made of shiny silk.
"Hello, young man. I am Arthur Frederick. You must be confused, but worry not, I mean no harm," Arthur said to Rich.
The moment Rich heard those words, his mind became clear. "Then what do you want with me?" he asked, expecting something.
Arthur ran his fingers along his chin in a thoughtful gesture. "What do I need? Yes, exactly, what do I want..."
The guard was in a tense situation, standing in silence and waiting for this to end. He knew the power of Arthur Frederick.
After some time thinking, Arthur finally addressed Rich's question. He leaned towards him, his eyes fierce and strong. Towering over Rich, Arthur replied, "I want you to do something for me."
"Do something? What is it?" Rich's voice cracked, his gaze drifting away in hesitation. Though all he could do was go along with the current situation, as he was powerless at the moment.
"I want you to be a warrior, to help me—the nation and its people. You do know about the impending doom, right? The way monsters are popping out of nowhere. I want someone to be a part of the team I'm building, and you are one of them," Arthur said, convincing Rich about the cause.
Arthur's resolve showed as he spoke of the doom and his plan to stop it. Rich knew about the destruction slowly corrupting the world, but he lacked the strength to fight it. All he knew was how to run away.
"I... I don't think I'm good enough to fight alongside you," Rich's voice was weak and trembled.
Arthur pressed his hand against Rich's shoulder. It felt heavy enough to send Rich to the floor. His whole body was pressed as if he couldn't lift his own weight. The floor cracked under the sudden pressure.
"Are you now?"
Though Arthur's face was smiling, his eyes were not. His irritability was evident, and his regal tone was gone. Now he turned to Rich with clear hostility in his voice.
He swung his palm towards Rich's face, and a sharp pain coursed through his head. Rich stumbled away from Arthur, the force sending him flying to the other side.
Arthur walked towards him, then grabbed him by the collar. Now face-to-face with Arthur, Rich could see a desperate man hidden behind the walls of his.
"Tell me, boy, why are you declining my offer?" Arthur's regal voice was shaking and desperate.
Arthur's grip on his collar was tight, the force unbearable. Rich winced in pain.
"I don't work for anyone. My life is meaningless; I already gave up," he said in a monotonous and flat tone.
He wore the face of a person willing to sacrifice anything just to spite their opponents. He looked straight into Arthur's eyes with resolve, clearly provoking him. Arthur, unable to hold back his irritation and anger, launched a straight punch at Rich's abdomen. Rich flew a few meters, stopping only when his body hit the walls. Then he fell, grasping his abdomen in clear pain. His body writhed in pain, rolling into a ball, trying to ease the agony.
It didn't end there. Arthur continued his attack, kicking Rich in the chest and punching him in the head. It didn't stop; Rich took the hits like a helpless kitten. It hurt. His whole body was crying out to him, urging him to give up. But something inside him refused to do so. Flurries of kicks and punches continued to rain on him for a few minutes before it finally stopped.
"Haaah, you just won't give up," Arthur said in surrender.
After the torturous attack, Rich still did not give up. Arthur couldn't convince the guy. He had no choice but to try another way. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
"Fine. If you won't cooperate, I don't need you," Arthur said.
He turned his back, but before leaving, he turned to Rich and said in an icy tone, "I guess I should save space for more promising individuals. Dispose of him," he commanded the guard.
"Yes, sir."
The guard bowed to Arthur as he walked out of the room. Now, only he and Rich remained. The guard looked at Rich with astonishment.
I guess you could only do that if you really wanted to die. He thought, shaking his head to clear his mind.
There was nothing to be done but to follow orders. The guard's face twisted in scorn at the unfortunate turn of events.
Rich remained unmoving on the cold cement floor. Pain coursed through his body. With minimal movement, he tried to sit up, but his limbs lost their balance, and he fell with a thud.
Why? Why is this happening to me? he thought. It was an unfair reality for Rich. All the time he spent, all the effort he made, was all for nothing. Maybe the world was punishing him for all the bad deeds he had done, all the accumulated karma finally hitting him back. But all those things only happened because of his family. He wanted to help and protect them—to support and free them from the underground life they were living.