Chapter 3: The Night of No Return
Lopkinnf would never forget the night that changed everything. It began like any other in the slums of Jex, where the shadows of poverty and violence crept through every corner. He had been walking home from a grueling day at school, his mind clouded with the usual bitterness. But as he approached his house, something felt wrong—a silence far too heavy, too unnatural.
When he reached the doorway, his heart sank. His mother's cries pierced the air, a sound so raw and desperate that it froze him in place. He stepped inside, and the scene before him would haunt him forever.
His father lay lifeless on the floor, his body beaten and bloodied beyond recognition. His face, once worn by the struggles of an honest man, was now swollen and bruised, his eyes wide open as if frozen in fear. Beside him, his mother was crouched, sobbing uncontrollably, her hands trembling as she clutched his lifeless hand.
"What happened?" Lopkinnf's voice trembled as he spoke, though deep down, he already knew.
Through broken words and tears, his mother recounted the horror. That evening, his father had been walking home with what little money he had earned from a week of grueling labor. It was barely enough to buy food for the family, but even that had been too much for the vultures that circled their neighborhood.
A group of traffickers had ambushed him in an alley, demanding his money. When he tried to resist—pleading that it was all he had to feed his family—they showed no mercy. They beat him relentlessly, their fists and boots striking him until he collapsed. But it wasn't enough for them to leave him broken. They wanted to make an example out of him.
His mother had been nearby, running errands, when she heard the commotion. By the time she arrived, it was too late. The traffickers, laughing and jeering, forced her to watch as they delivered the final blow—a knife plunged into her husband's chest. They tossed his lifeless body to the ground like trash and disappeared into the night, leaving her to cradle the man she loved as he bled out in her arms.
Lopkinnf fell to his knees, his chest heaving with rage and sorrow. He looked at his father's broken body, the man who had spent his entire life enduring humiliation and hardship to provide for his family. And now, in the end, he had died not as a man but as a victim of Jex's unrelenting cruelty.
He turned to his mother, who was still clutching his father's hand as if refusing to let him go. Her eyes, swollen and bloodshot, met Lopkinnf's. In that moment, he saw more than grief—he saw defeat. She had lost her will to fight, her spirit crushed by a lifetime of suffering in a world that offered nothing but pain.
Lopkinnf sat beside her, his hands trembling as he reached for his father's lifeless hand. For the first time in years, tears streamed down his face, but they weren't just tears of sorrow. They were tears of fury, of helplessness, and of a burning desire for vengeance.
That night, something inside Lopkinnf changed. The boy who had endured the bullying of the rich and the indifference of society was gone. In his place was someone colder, someone angrier, someone who understood that the world of Jex would never change unless someone made it change.
As he sat there, surrounded by the stench of blood and despair, Lopkinnf made a silent vow. He would not let his father's death be meaningless. He would destroy the system that had allowed such evil to thrive, even if it meant becoming a monster himself.