Mental problems
Chapter 23: Stolen food taste good!
Author: Man, your young age is really making everyone step on you, isn't it?
Vira: I mean, he denied me for a valid reason. Not that I wasn't angry, though.
Author: Oh, really? Then tell me.
Vira: You're going to write it either way. Why are you in a hurry?
Author: Oh, yeah. I am the one writing this shit.
Because of a combination of hunger and the annoying mess these soldiers were making, Vira was already pretty pissed. Then he was denied once again. Generally, for a valid reason, Vira was chill with rejection. Like in his thefts, he had been pulled out of the kitchen multiple times when eating by the "theft brigade." He didn't mind that, as others in the group were pretty bad at running, so he understood why they would rush him. Well, mainly because they spoke nicely and pulled gently.
But why the fuk was this guy shouting?
He was deaf! He wouldn't understand even if this guy shouted into a microphone.
So, in irritation of hunger and his head buzzing from the shout, Vira said in a grim voice, "The fuk are you shouting for? I didn't ask you."
Instructor James was pretty surprised by Vira's sudden outburst. Vira, while not completely detached, was generally pretty silent, and most of the tasks—like selling the goods—were managed by Peter. But still, he didn't mind much.
So, this time, in a smaller voice, "Well, I heard you were deaf, so I…"
These words were conveyed to Vira by Viper, who had never left his neck.
"So you know I'm deaf, then why the fuk are you shouting? Do you think I'll magically start to hear if you speak a bit louder?" said Vira in a normal tone after gathering his calm.
"No, no, I don't mean to! It's just that these guys will be twitching on the floor all day if you don't give them alcohol," the instructor said after seeing Vira calm down. But, considering how important the matter was, he was still a bit stuttering.
Vira: "Isn't that more of a reason to reduce their alcohol? Reduce their addiction!"
"No, no, no, that's not because they're addicted. Well, they are, but the twitching isn't because of that," the instructor said hurriedly.
"So why?" Vira asked, genuinely intrigued by this.
"Well, they are combat fatigued after the war," said James. But seeing the bit of confusion on Vira's face, he quickly added, "Well, it's like a wound— even after it heals, it still feels like it hurts. This one is in the mind. Even after they're out of the warzone, their brain still keeps them in an alert state— just forever. So they need alcohol to numb themselves so they can rest. Other times, they're pretty nice. You should have seen it too."
Saying this, he stared at Vira's face for a while, but seeing no change, he looked at Peter for help.
Peter, in his years, had met many such people— some of them were even in this compound. So, he stepped forward to support the instructor and to say, "I've seen them go crazy when they don't drink for a while."
But before he could speak, Vira spoke.
"So, PTSD? Then why don't they go to psychiatrists? The military should have them."
This question didn't need to be answered by the instructor. Unlike the instructor, who was wide awake and felt the full pressure when standing in front of Vira, the now-drunk soldiers didn't care about the hundreds of birds' eyes, the serpent stare from Vira's neck, and Vira's eyes, which now had aged from those beautiful blue eyes to black with a tinge of grey.
If someone were to compare them, they would feel that the blue eyes Vira had as a newborn were like the sky light in the Arctic—calming and simply pretty. But his eyes now? He had grown a bit and was three years old. Staring into them would feel like looking straight at death. Those black eyes with a greyish tinge made them feel like they would be cursed if they kept staring. Still beautiful, just in a different way.
Uncaring of the hundreds of stares, a drunken soldier who had somehow managed to stagger near the trio and overheard the conversation spoke.
"Of course we went there, but they're quacks. They said we're unsavable and should be kicked out of the military."
Vira didn't want to care about the drunk guy, but since he was the one who experienced it and gave an answer, Vira asked again.
"Then what about the civil ones?"
"I don't have the money. Those assholes kicked me out without pension or any compensation."
Seeing the guy scream and cry bitterly seemed to attract other drunks, as they all started gathering around, repulsing Vira with the stench of alcohol. But the soldiers didn't care. Having found another vent for their frustration, they all started cursing, just as they had before—only before, it was the government and themselves they cursed for their homelessness, while now they all united in cursing the psychiatrists, calling them quacks and many other names.
They shouted many things to try to pour out their bitterness. Among these things, one might just be a bit more detailed than the others...
But what Viper told Vira clearly about what they were saying were the words:
"The civil ones were even more quacks. They said I was hysteric and should be kept in confinement. I had to run away from my children because of that piece of shit. Should have poked a few holes in that bastard when I had the chance."
Aside from these words, there were countless others, but all could be summarized into a few:
"Quack doctor," "Misdiagnosed," "Exclusion."
After a while, they seemed to shift the topic into something entirely different. So, Vira called Peter, who, after a few minutes, barely managed to break free from the drunken soldiers.
Seeing him come out, Vira, who had now felt starved, hurriedly said, "I'm gonna go eat. Go ask James and the others to see if they can find a psychiatrist to treat these wastes."
Hearing him, Peter quickly replied, "Sure, I'll go ask them. Do you want me to ask Olivia and the others to prepare food?"
But perhaps Vira was used to eating stolen food or simply didn't care to stay. After Peter's mouth showed affirmation of what he asked for, before Peter could complete his words, Vira had already run off into the distance, with crowds of crows following him in the air.
Time passed, and Vira only returned at noon. There wasn't going to be a theft, and the truth was, Vira was used to being free. Or rather, it would be better to say he never had bound himself to anything. Even now, though he had a force under him, he didn't even think of them as a restriction or burden. They were there, and he would take care of them if he desired. If not, they were just a bunch of strangers he picked up for no reason.
Setting all the emotions Vira had toward his increasing group aside, when he returned at noon and saw those drunks being pulled by the children, he couldn't help but want to go and kick a few of them. He didn't hold back. He just went straight to the one who had teased him first in the morning and kicked him in the face.
Naturally, Vira didn't use much force. After all, his strength, though not equal to an adult's, was still monstrous. Even if you judged by his appearance, which looked two to three years older than his actual age, it wasn't a trifling matter. Kicking an undefended head at full strength would've likely given the man a concussion.
He wanted to kick a few others who had also chimed in, but he was stopped by the children dragging them away.
No matter how much of a waste Vira felt these soldiers were, for the children, they were kind adults who treated them nicely and provided the warmth they so longed for. While Vira had a higher status in their hearts, they knew from the kick that Vira wasn't angry. He simply kicked for fun, especially since they already knew the state of the thug who cursed them in the morning.
They dared to stop Vira because vira was just playing. If vira really kicked in anger, they most likely wouldn't have.
Anyway, after kicking the guy, Vira felt refreshed and asked one of the older kids to call Peter. The kid readily agreed. Dropping the man he was dragging to the floor, he hurried inside the house and soon returned with Peter.
"So, did you find one?" Vira asked upon seeing him.
"Yes, but all of them are… well, serving the big guys like Corah's head and such." Seeing the dark expression on Vira's face, Peter hurriedly added, "I've asked the theft brigade to see if they can find another psychiatrist."
"If you want psychiatrists, I know of one."
A voice came from inside the house.
THE END
Guess whats gonna happen to the owner of the voice