"Lamon… Wake up, Lamon… Wake up…"
In a daze, Lamon saw a young woman in a white dress standing beside him, calling his name softly.
"Lamon… you have to wake up, danger is coming!" The woman in white suddenly lunged toward his face. Lamon saw a flash of white light, let out a cry, and jolted awake.
"Who's there?! What was that sound?" Lamon cried out, looking around frantically. But there was no one. The crescent moon hung in the sky, and the alley was silent, save for a broken bicycle soaking in a puddle in the corner.
"My bike!" Lamon yelled, rushing toward it. "That bastard could beat me up, fine, but he smashed my bike too! How am I supposed to deliver food now?"
Just as Lamon was mourning his bicycle, a sensation like an electric shock shot through his entire body. It was the primal instinct of an antelope spotting a cheetah, a mouse encountering a cat. The reaction told him clearly: danger was approaching.
Like a panther moving through the jungle, Lamon ducked behind a corner in a few swift movements, holding his breath and focusing his senses. At the same time, in a nearby fork in the alley, two figures approached. Lamon saw them clearly now –– they wore the same blue robes as the man from before.
"Hey, did you just hear someone shouting?" one of them asked.
"No, you probably misheard. There are a lot of stray cats and rats in these alleys. Maybe it was just some cat in heat making weird noises."
"That makes sense. By the way, this enemy was really tough. The boss had the upper hand and was about to succeed, but his opponent went all out and took the boss down with him. A shame about the boss…"
So the red-robed man and the blue-robed man took each other out! Lamon thought.
"Stop getting sentimental. Have you found a signal for the[Prism]? That's what matters."
"Not yet. But the message the boss sent back before he died said there was a deliveryman nearby. Maybe he picked up the[Prism]?"
Lamon shrank back, instinctively wanting to cover the delivery company logo on his chest, only to look down and see his shirt had been torn to shreds. He cursed silently in his heart.
Lamon didn't linger. He crouched down and tiptoed away from the spot.
What was the deal with that red-robed man and blue-robed man? And who were those two just now? What was this[Prism]they kept mentioning? And that woman's voice he heard in his daze… Lamon didn't have the answer to any of these questions. All he knew was that the blue-robed man's group was hunting him, and he was in grave danger.
But what worried Lamon even more was his grandmother, who was home alone.
His memories of his parents were already blurry. Lamon only remembered that they had disappeared when he was very young. Since then, his grandmother had raised him by herself; she was his only family. That blue-robed man had said he was going to investigate him, which meant they might find his home soon. No matter what, Lamon absolutely could not let his grandmother be put in danger.
A sharp pain shot through the back of his head. Lamon reached up to touch the sore spot. Hiss… Blood! From those two bricks. That bastard!
A fuzzy scene reappeared in his mind. Lamon vaguely remembered it was the day before his parents disappeared. They had said something to him. What was it?
Ugh… Lamon clutched his head. He wasn't sure if it was because of the injury or because he was forcing himself to recall the memory, but a wave of dizziness washed over him.
That's right, that's right! The scene in his memory gradually became clearer, and the last words his parents said to him also became distinct…
"Lamon, you have to be careful… of the… people…" His mother had held the young Lamon on her lap, her voice gentle. His father stood beside them, looking at him lovingly…
Yes, that was the sentence. But… be careful of what kind of people? No matter how hard he tried, Lamon couldn't remember what his mother had said at the end…
Hiss… A searing pain lanced through the back of his head, and the intense dizziness became unbearable.
Lamon cursed his luck. He couldn't go to a hospital, his home might be discovered soon, and his grandmother's safety couldn't be guaranteed… Lamon, oh Lamon, what kind of people have you provoked? You never get a lucky break, but all the misfortune and bad luck in the world seems to find you…
Perhaps Lady Luck took pity on the dejected Lamon. In an alley up ahead, a clinic was still lit. Normally, Lamon wouldn't dare seek medical help in a place like this—a dark alley, a clinic open late at night—it screamed "tourist trap." But right now, this clinic was nothing short of a lifeline. He needed to get his throbbing head checked out, and besides, he needed to be healthy if he was going to protect his grandmother.
After a brief internal struggle, Lamon cast his worries aside and pushed open the door to the clinic.
It was less a clinic and more a tavern. The room was filled with people, sitting around, shouting, and clinking glasses. Seeing the tattered Lamon walk in, the room fell silent. All eyes turned to him.
"Haha… I thought this was a clinic, didn't realize it was a tavern. My mistake. You guys carry on, don't mind me, I'll be leaving now." Lamon gave a nervous laugh and was about to turn and leave when the owner behind the counter called out to him.
"Well now, guest, we're a clinic by day and a tavern by night. You can call us whatever you like, it doesn't matter," the owner said with a chuckle. "But when you're seeking medical help, the most important thing is money. So, guest, how much money do you have on you?"
Looking at the owner's smile, Lamon's heart pounded. I've walked right into a black market den, he thought. But when he glanced back, two burly men had already closed the door and were standing on either side of it. Seeing no way out, he forced himself to say, "Haha, I don't have much money."
"And how much is 'not much'? You came seeking help yourself, you must have something, right?" The owner's eyes darted around as he continued to smile.
"A-A hundred bucks or so…" Lamon's voice trembled.
"Is that so? Well, judging by your clothes, you don't look like a rich man," the owner's eyes darted around again. "But that's fine. I run a clinic, saving lives comes first." The owner waved his hand, and the two burly men grabbed Lamon by his arms and began dragging him toward the back room.
"Wait, I haven't even said what's wrong with me—" Before Lamon could finish, the two men had hauled him into a dark room.
"Hehe, don't blame me, kid. Blame yourself for walking right in. These days, doing legitimate business can't compare to taking risks. Your organs are worth a lot more than selling medicine and alcohol. It's just human nature, so don't blame me…" The owner said, holding a leather strap and walking toward Lamon step by step.
"No! Don't you come near me…" Another wave of pain shot through his head, and Lamon found it difficult to even speak. He gasped for air, feeling something burning inside him.
"Don't be afraid. I'll give you anesthesia. It'll be over soon," the owner's smile grew wider.
"Why?"
"What?" The owner stopped, surprised.
"Why? Why does this always happen to me? Why are you doing this to me?! I just want to live a normal life, I just want to take care of my grandma… WHY?!" Lamon lifted his head, his blood-red eyes staring daggers at the owner. It was a hellish gaze, born of either pain or fury.
"Th-this…" Now it was the owner's turn to be terrified. He took two steps back, steadied himself, and glanced at the two burly men. "What are you waiting for? Hold him down, quick!"
The two thugs pinned Lamon down.
"Get off."
"What?" The thug on the left turned his head, looking at Lamon as if he were an idiot. He deliberately leaned his ear closer to Lamon's face and said in a snide tone, "What did you say?"
"I said, get off me!" Lamon turned his head, staring at the man with the same terrifying eyes.
"You…"
Lamon suddenly lunged forward and bit down hard on the thug's carotid artery. The man clutched his neck, letting out a piercing scream.
The other thug tried to help, but Lamon tossed him over his shoulder with a nimble throw.
"You… you bastard!" The owner dropped the leather strap, ran to a corner, grabbed an iron pipe, and charged at Lamon.
Lamon's eyes were bloodshot, practically bursting from their sockets. He took a step forward, formed a fist with his right hand, and swung at the owner. The moment his fist made contact, the owner's entire body burst into flames like a piece of cottonwood fluff.
"AH—AH—HELP—" The owner, now a human fireball, crashed around the dark room a few times before running straight out the door, the flames on his body growing more intense.
"M-Monster!" the thug who had been thrown said, his voice trembling as he witnessed the scene. He scrambled over to help his partner, who was lying on the ground with blood gushing from his neck, and the two stumbled out of the dark room.
"D-did I do that?" Lamon looked down at his right hand in horror. A few embers were still flickering on it. The color and form of the flames were identical to the red-robed man's… He was fully lucid now, everything that had just happened felt like a dream. "A m-monster… I've become a monster…" Lamon's body trembled uncontrollably. But beneath the trembling, he felt a strange excitement—an excitement for slaughter, for blood. That was what truly terrified him. Some power was quietly changing him from the inside.
Lamon knew the owner was probably not going to make it. He couldn't stay here. He quickly dashed out of the dark room, out the clinic's main door, and disappeared into the depths of the alley.
The alleys of Grayhavens City were a layered maze. Lamon was more careful this time, but no matter which way he ran, he always ended up back at the same intersection.
"Wh-what's going on now? Who… who's messing with me!" Lamon screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice nearly startling the moon in the sky.
"So, the[Prism]is on you after all, deliveryman Lamon Grey," a figure stepped out from the shadows. Lamon recognized him as one of the two blue-robed men he had encountered earlier. "You're unlucky. I detected the energy fluctuations of the[Prism]."