A week after the death of Dale, Benedict's grandfather.
Benedict pulled a piece of paper from under a pillow and began to read it. His grandfather had taught him basic reading, writing, and arithmetic, but compared to children his age who had private tutors from a young age, he was far behind.
"So, Grandpa's friend lives in Section 22," Benedict muttered under his breath. At the bottom of the paper, a name was written: Felix Hawking. Folding the paper, he slipped it into a pocket sewn onto his worn pants. He slung a small bundle over his shoulder—his personal belongings consisting of little more than two changes of clothes. The bundle wasn't even as big as a basketball.
Benedict looked back at the small house he had called home for the past five years. "Thank you for protecting me and Grandpa," he whispered. His eyes drifted to the distant sky, where a floating island could be seen among the clouds—the Royal Palace, Section 1. Stretching out his hand toward the island, he clenched his fist. "One day… I will..." He took a final glance at the house. "Goodbye, Grandpa," he said softly, before walking away.
The Royal Capital was the furthest point from Section 23, where Benedict now stood. His next destination, the academy in Section 2, was a testament to its importance.
As Benedict made his way through the streets, his gaze fell on the dilapidated mud houses and ruins around him. His brows furrowed. He didn't remember much from the time he lived in better sections, but he knew it wasn't like this. Clenching his fist, he pressed on.
"Ben! Little Ben!" The raspy voice of an elderly woman called from the side of the road. Benedict quickened his pace and turned toward her. The old woman, in her eighties, was hunched over with a frail frame.
"Hello, Grandma!" Benedict greeted her with a smile. Though she wasn't his real grandmother, he liked calling her that.
"Hello, Little Ben. I haven't seen you in days. The last time, you were running in such a hurry," she said, pinching his cheek affectionately. It was clear Benedict was annoyed by the cheek-pinching but didn't protest.
"My grandfather... he passed the day you saw me running," Benedict said while staring at the ground.
"Oh, my dear. Are you alright now? Are you eating well?" the old woman asked, concern written all over her face as she squeezed Benedict's hand.
"I'm fine. Dry bread never betrays a hungry stomach. I'm on my way to Section 22 to live with my grandfather's friend," Benedict reassured her, hoping to ease her worry.
"Your old man had been sick since the time you came to Section 23, but he never lost his spirit. He always talked about you and said that he had the best grandson in the world," Grandma said.
"I wish I could take you in, but I'm not sure I could care for a growing boy. The tyrant King's taxes keep rising every year!" she mourned, her face clouded with sorrow.
"Hush, we don't know who might be listening," Benedict cautioned, his expression anxious.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Old age doesn't leave much sense in a person," she whispered. "By the way, my grandchildren finally found jobs! They're working in a parts shop in Section 22. If you see them, tell them to work hard and not slack off!" she added with a smile full of hope.
"Sure, Grandma. I should go now before it gets dark." Benedict resumed his journey.
"I wish I had a grandson like Benedict. It's thanks to him that my foolish grandchildren straightened out," the old woman thought.
"Go on, Little Ben. Just be sure to visit us from time to time," the old woman said.
"Grandfather's friend... I wonder what kind of man he is," Benedict thought as he tried to navigate through the slums.
As Benedict approached a narrow, dim alley near the border of Section 22, he heard raised voices. The alley was filled with garbage bags and reeked of a nauseating stench.
"Well, well, well. Lost, are we?" a man with spiky hair and a skeleton tattoo on his neck sneered while scratching an old scar on his chin.
"Pretty dangerous place for kids like you, right, big bro?" added a hefty man with a similar tattoo, grinning menacingly while rubbing his belly. His large frame blocked any light from passing across the alley.
"You're right, lil bro. Especially for fancy-looking kids like them," said the spiky-haired man.
"We… we got lost…" a twelve-year-old girl stuttered, shielding her younger brother, who was about five, behind her while trembling.
She was wearing a dog-shaped necklace. The little boy had closed his eyes and clenched his sister's clothes tightly in his hands.
"Am I really going to die? I haven't even gotten the chance to attend the academy!" the girl thought, cursing her fate.
"Enough!" Benedict, now running toward the scene with his bundle, glared at the two men. His firm stance took them by surprise.
"Look what we got here, big bro," the hefty man said.
"Yeah, look who's here, lil bro," the spiky-haired man replied, taking a step closer.
The tension in the alley rose as the two thugs and Benedict got closer to each other. The girl's eyes widened, watching every move.
Benedict looked at the kids, noticing the growing panic on their faces.
"These idiots are scaring the kids," Benedict thought to himself.
"Step back, kids. I know these guys really well," said Benedict, pointing his finger at the kids.
The kids did as Benedict told them.
"Exactly like the books I read! Sacrificing himself for another person. Such bravery, such chivalry!" the girl thought while clutching her dog-shaped necklace in her fist, seeing Benedict as a knight in shining armor.
"If things get dangerous, I'll use my Lumina! I won't let my knight get hurt," the girl resolved, her fear replaced by determination.
The alley became silent, broken only by the squeaking of a rat. The two men and Benedict stood face-to-face.
"Boss!" the men suddenly shouted with joy, breaking the silence.
"Boss?" the girl screamed, her eyes wide with shock as the men exchanged a friendly dap with Benedict.
"I saw your grandmother on the way. She mentioned you got new jobs," Benedict said, glancing at the girl and her brother. "From mugging to kidnapping. That looks like an upgrade to me!"
"No, no! It's a misunderstanding! We were heading home from our shop when—puff—they suddenly appeared in front of us! We just wanted to help them find their way back. You know how dangerous these parts are!" the hefty man explained.
"Yeah, it's clear from their clothes they're not from around here," the spiky-haired man confirmed.
"Fine. But next time, don't grin like that! People might get the wrong idea that you're up to no good," Benedict instructed.
"What's going on? He's their boss?" the girl thought, baffled.
"By the way, where are you heading, Boss?" the spiky-haired man inquired.
"I'm going to this address. Do you know where it is?" Benedict showed them the paper.
"Is that the house I think it is, big bro?" the hefty man asked, glancing nervously at his brother.
"Yeah, it is, lil bro," the spiky-haired man confirmed, his face glistening with sweat. "The house of the mad scientist, Felix Hawking!"