The Lazy Boy Is, In Fact, the Strongest and Most Brutal Assassin.

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Draw The Line.

Peter clutched the leather pouch tightly and ran.

He was being chased. Uncle Toruk… no, it was that guy, Toruk, chasing him. The difference in speed between an adult and a child was too great. All Peter could do was desperately run forward, without a moment to look back. Occasionally, Toruk would catch up, kicking Peter’s back in a mocking manner, sending him tumbling to the ground. With pain and tears in his eyes, Peter quickly rose again and began running.

From behind, the sound of Toruk humming casually reached him, as if he could catch Peter anytime he wanted. Fear, frustration, fear.

“Wait, you thief!”

Toruk shouted loudly, aware of the passing bystanders’ gazes. To the people walking by, it must have looked like the store owner chasing a young delinquent who had stolen something from his shop. It made Peter furious. The thief was Toruk, not him. There was no room to make excuses, no time for explanations.

“Onee-chan! Onee-chan! Onee-chan!”

Blood filled Peter’s mouth from his split lip, and the words slipped out before he could stop them. It was weakness, pure weakness. The word “Onee-chan” tasted like blood in his mouth.

The money in his hands was the money his sister had earned by selling herself. Toruk had said, “With this money, I’ll buy your sister back.” Toruk laughed cruelly as he spoke. Peter stumbled and fell, tripping over a stone. Behind him, Toruk’s mocking laugh echoed. He had to get up quickly. Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! “I’ll buy her back, but your sister will be mine. You’re not needed.” Toruk’s words twisted Peter’s face with frustration.

The bystanders who were only watching, curiously, made him angry. Among them, an old woman passing by asked, “Are you okay?” “Help!” the words slipped from his lips, but the old woman looked confused, unsure of what to do. What the hell! Then why did you even ask? Peter wanted to yell at her, but in that moment, Toruk almost caught up with him, so he had to run again, leaving the words “help” behind.

If he got caught, it would be awful. Well, he was already in an awful situation. He couldn’t let his sister be given to someone like Toruk. He wouldn’t let it happen. Tears, which he had been holding back, filled his body, gathering in his nose. He spat, red saliva staining the ground, wiping dirt off his face as he ran. Somewhere adults couldn’t go. Was there a place like that? That’s right! Peter glanced around and turned right down an alley, heading toward the park he often played in. It was a park overgrown with grass, poorly maintained. He dove into the bushes of the park, crawling forward on all fours.

But suddenly, his feet were grabbed, and he was being pulled out.

“Whoa! Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

A voice came from outside the bushes, and Peter desperately kicked at the hand holding his leg with his other foot.

“Ow, damn it, just give up, you little brat!”

Toruk growled, pulling at Peter’s leg, dragging him across the dirt. As he was about to be dragged out, Peter’s boot came off, and his body was flung deeper into the bushes. Lucky. He crawled deeper into the park, hiding among the bushes.

He held his breath, staying still. From the depths of the park, he could hear Toruk shouting. It seemed like Toruk had tried to cut him off, kicking bushes and swatting at the grass. He was searching for him. He hadn’t been found yet. “I’ll kill you,” Toruk’s frustrated voice became more and more hostile. It would be nice if he just died from getting too excited.

Holding his breath, Peter remained hidden. Toruk circled around, nearby. His heartbeat quickened, as Toruk’s kicks came dangerously close to the bushes. He couldn’t stay here forever. The problem now was timing. However, while lying under the bushes, Peter locked eyes with a little girl who had been playing in the park. The girl tilted her head, staring at him. No! Don’t look at me! Please, don’t look!

Suddenly, Toruk’s shouting stopped. He had been spotted. Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Peter clumsily rolled out of the bushes, crossing the park and heading toward the street.

“I’ll kill you!”

***

Toruk seems no longer willing to play around. When I turn around, I see that his face no longer carries the confident expression from before. Instead, it is filled with anger so intense that I can almost feel it myself, as if it’s electrifying the air around us. His footsteps are heavy and urgent. Ah, I see now. He must have realized it’s troublesome if I escape this way. So that’s what’s going on. If I keep running in this direction, I’ll eventually hit the slums. My sister told me to stay away from there, but the winding alleys are the perfect playground. My friends and I used to sneak in and play tag. Narrow streets, walls with holes, crumbling ruins. There are plenty of places a grown-up can’t fit into.

I turn right as soon as I enter the slums, then left, right, right, left. My bare right foot cuts on the sharp corner of a stone, and blood mixes with my footprints. It’s swelling up now. It’s hot, burning hot. My face is on fire, my back where I was kicked is hot, and my feet are burning too. I want to squat down and scream out in tears, wondering why I have to go through this. Normally, if I threw a tantrum, my sister would come running and hug me. But if I do that now, those arms around me will definitely belong to Toruk, with his rough, muscular build. Ugh… I shouldn’t have imagined that. How disgusting.

Ahead of me, there’s a dead-end with a pile of garbage. If I dig through it, there should be a hole in the stone wall between this block and the next, just big enough for a child to pass through. If I can get through, I’ll be able to escape. Damn it, why is there so much garbage today? I hear rough footsteps coming from the corner behind me. Hurry, it smells awful, something’s on my hands. I wipe it on my pants and continue digging through the trash.

“Hey, wait up!”

Toruk’s voice calls out from behind me. Shit, shit, shit. I frantically push through the garbage. I see it! The hole! Beyond it is a clean stone pavement. On the other side of this wall separating the slums is a wealthy residential area. The rich people live on the other side of the wall, looking down on this side, and I can’t help but think they put the wall there just for that. What idiots. Now’s not the time to think about that.

Toruk steps into the garbage pile. I’m done for! I scramble towards the hole, throwing my body forward like a head-first slide. The moment I do, a shriek escapes me. A dull cracking sound echoes, and I feel an unbearable pain in my bare right foot. Damn it! Toruk stepped on it. That bastard. Without meaning to, a pathetic cry slips from my lips. My foot pulses with a throbbing pain, but I continue to crawl forward with all my strength, my arms dragging me along. I’m almost halfway through the hole now. Just one more push, and I’ll escape.

But—

“AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! Something’s stabbed into my thigh. I feel an intense, burning sensation and scream in agony. Something’s stuck in my thigh. It’s stuck in there. But because of that, my body reflexively jerks, and I roll out to the other side of the stone wall.

I see blood on my hands. It’s oozing out, steadily. Looking at my thigh, I realize a knife is embedded deep into it. It’s sticking in all the way to the hilt. The blood pulses, dripping steadily. From the other side of the wall, I hear Toruk shouting.

“I’ll come around and catch you soon!”

Damn it, I’m not getting caught! If he tries to circle around and come this way, it will take him at least half an hour. I can escape. I have to escape. I try to pull the knife out, but even the slightest touch sends an excruciating pain through my body, making me recoil. No, I can’t do it. I have to leave it in and crawl away, as far as I can. In the middle of the wealthy neighborhood, it’s eerily quiet. Do the rich people never make a sound? Do they never feel happy or sad? Do they just smile while dying, living their whole lives in politeness?

I keep crawling. I find a narrow alley. Looking up, I see green curtains fluttering in the wind. Where is this? I’m so, so sleepy. So sleepy…

***

In the dim alley, the crimson sunset shines through.

Peter groans as he weakly opens his eyes.

How long had he been unconscious? When he tries to sit up, his body refuses to obey, completely devoid of strength. There is no sign of anyone around. It seems Toruk hasn’t found him yet.

From somewhere in the alley, the lively sound of laughter can be heard.

“Hanna! Happy birthday!”

It seems like the house over there is in the middle of a birthday party for their daughter.

Happy birthday, Hanna. It looks like my death day is the same as your birthday.

In the end, Peter managed to escape from Toruk, but his life is nearly over. He couldn’t save his sister, and all he’s endured is a painful, pointless struggle. Slowly, tears begin to well up in his dull eyes.

Someone, please save my sister.

If God really exists, shouldn’t they offer some kind of help?

Was it because I wasn’t a good child? God shouldn’t be so stingy, right?

With his eyes blurred by tears, Peter looks up at the sky. The alleyway cuts off the view, leaving only a long, narrow rectangle of the reddish sky.

His gaze drifts, eventually landing on a window in the wall.

Brown? Is it a brown curtain?

What Peter sees in front of him is a window with green curtains. However, bathed in the sunset’s light, the green mixed with red, now tinged brown.

A window with brown curtains — if you say the secret word beneath it, you can request a contract with the assassination group “Night Dwellers.”

It’s a rumor that anyone who lives in Saint Togan knows.

Peter reaches out toward the window, but his fingers only grasp at the empty air.

Then, a voice, so weak it almost sounds like a groan, slips out of the mouth of a small child.

The password is—