"That bastard owes us fifty Krecos, so where the hell is he?" A fairly tall man asked. He was built like a mountain and had a cigarette on his lips.

  Behind him, a slimmer man with a ponytail and a scar across his face observed without saying a word.

  "Ah… just… just give us a few more days. I promise… We’ll have enough by then!" The lady cried out.

  "Your husband’s been saying that for the last three weeks, and every time we come looking for him, he's nowhere to be seen! Are you messing with me!" The man spat on the floor and pushed her to the ground. She stumbled and fell on her back. "If that bastard at least found a job and saved up, this issue would've been resolved-"

  His voice got cut off as he noticed the flicker of movement from the corner of his eyes all of a sudden, but before he could turn to look, a force bombarded into him and sent him tumbling to the side. He managed to get a hold of the wall before he could fall over.

  "Tch! Who the hell-" Before he could finish his sentence, he saw the shadow of a person spin in the air and charge at him with a roundhouse kick; however, he easily evaded the attack.

  "Son of a-!" The man finally took a good look at the man - no, a boy. He has long, yet dishevelled, gradient grey-blue hair which clung to his forehead with sweat and seemed no older than six.

  The man behind him with the ponytail looked dumbfounded for an instant, "Interesting…"

  After taking a few seconds to take a good look at his attacker, a cold smile formed across the muscular man’s face, "A little brat like you actually managed to push me back, impressive!"

  "Don't touch my mother!" He yelled at them, his pupils blazing with threat and aggression.

  Looking at the sudden turn in the situation, his mother’s face grew pale, and she immediately bowed down, "Please forgive me! This stupid child has nothing to do with me!"

  A flicker of sorrow flashed across the boy's eyes ever so slightly as he heard these words. Even the two men frowned, "Hah? So you're telling me this random kid tried to save you and called you his mother for no reason?"

  The mother trembled, "I… I-"

  "Save it!" The man growled, "You're all pathetic! A father who does nothing but drown in debt and a mother who's ready to throw away her child for her own safety."

  The man with the ponytail put a hand on the man's shoulder, as if to calm him down and stepped up, "I'll give your husband one final chance. But this time… he has to pay double the amount!"

  The woman grinned at the first half of his words, but her smile vanished just as quickly after hearing the second half, "t-that would be one hundred Krecos?!"

  The man smirked, "Exactly right! If that old man doesn't get me this sum in one week… We’ll have you and him executed, in the name of Lord Haimos, and we'll sell your organs to make up for the money!"

  The woman sank to her knees. The monthly income for an average family in this village was 25 Krecos. The initial sum her husband had piled up already amounted to 50. But now it's 100… and within a week.

  The man with the ponytail turned around and left. The large man stared hard at the child before letting out a grunt and following behind his supposed superior.

  The mother and son remained in silence until they were gone. Once they had completely left their vision, the woman grabbed the boy by the hair and smashed him against the wall, "It's all your fault! If you had made more money the past few weeks, we would've been able to pay it off!"

  Due to the constant hammering, a small trail of blood made its way down the boy's face. "I'm sorry… mother."

  "Agh, so useless!" The woman bellowed one last time, but before she could smash the child's head again, a rattling pouch of coins fell on the floor.

  Seeing this, her eyes glimmered, and she immediately sprawled on the ground and emptied the pouch in her hand. To her surprise, fifteen coins fell out. Her eyes shimmered looking at this.

  She then laughed happily before ruffling the boy's hair, "Haha, good boy! This is more than you've ever bought in a single day!"

  The woman then hurried inside as if afraid to be outside holding this much money. The child stumbled to the side, his head spinning and stepped inside after her, but she blocked his entrance.

  When the child looked back up at her, the smile on her face was gone. "Didn't you hear that man? We need 100 coins! This is nothing! Go and fetch some more!"

  She said before promptly shutting the door on his face. Without complaining, the child staggered away. Once he was a certain distance away from their house, he pressed his back against a wall and slid all the way down and closed his eyes. The words his mother had spoken to try and save herself echoed inside his head like a drum.

  This stupid child has nothing to do with me!

  He slowly opened his eyes once again. About now, the gloomy light had almost completely sunk behind the horizon, marking the beginning of dusk. The boy mindlessly fiddled with the crescent-shaped pendant hanging down his neck. He wasn’t sure where he got this from, and it was something he always had around. His parents had tried to sell it on a few occasions, but to no avail, as no one cared to buy it.

  "Hey, don't go too far!" a woman yelled from afar, chasing her child. The boy let go of his pendant and looked up. The child didn't heed his mother’s plea and fell, after which he began to wail. The mother then ran up to the child and hugged him tightly, and examined his wounds. The mother would then scold the child in worry.

  Seeing this, a warm feeling arose in the child's heart. It was at this moment, he realised that this kind of relationship with his mother was all he wanted. He wanted that love from his mother, and it was his dream to receive her acknowledgement. He persevered through the suffering and beating, hoping that a day would come when his mother would at least just give him one genuine smile.

  The sunset cast a dark yet melancholic shadow over his grimy face as he lay there looking at the mother-son duo longingly. Before long, the mother carried the child gently and took him inside.

  "Will there be a day… I get to hear my mother worry about me like that? … If only," the lone boy contemplated as he slowly shifted his gaze and stared deep into the horizon, his eyelids slowly shrinking. "I…"

  He gazed hard at the horizon from afar and focused on the outline of the sun from the gloomy clouds, "I want to sleep forever…"

  As he soullessly trudged through the market, a glimmer flashed in his eyes, and he stopped walking. The damp, winter breeze carried the smell of roses, and the figure of a woman caught his eye. She had her back to him as she discussed something with the stall owner, but the boy could tell that she wasn't a normal villager.

  She was fairly tall, and her purple hair, which was tied in a ponytail, fluttered in the evening breeze. She was wearing fur-clad velvet clothing, which seemed more expensive than an average family's annual income, but what caught his attention the most was a small watch which was attached to her belt.

  The boy swallowed. He was no jeweller, but he could tell it was made from the most expensive of materials. If he could get his hands on that, not only would it take care of their debts, but it might also give them enough money to live comfortably for another few months.

  The boy took a step forward hesitantly, his eyes set on the watch, but deep in his eyes, conflict flickered. If she were indeed a high-profile person... and if he gets caught, the consequences might be much more severe than a few beatings.

  'But if I do get it, will mother finally be kind to me...?'

  As the thought crossed his mind, all the hesitation in his eyes vanished in a blink. He crept closer and closer towards them, scanning everything in his surroundings. Unfortunately, there weren't many people or things he could use around him to set up a ploy; he could only snatch it off her and take off.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  'She's wearing high heels... she wouldn't be able to catch me, right?'

  He crept dangerously close to her, but neither she nor the stall owner had noticed.

  The stall owner rubbed his hands, trying to please her in every possible way, "Ahahah, miss, as you can see, there's a variety of different fragrances! You can try any of them on and see which is to your liking."

  The woman ran her fingers over the various bottles of perfume, and she stopped at a specific vial containing pink fluid. She then picked it up and smiled before holding it up to her nose, "I like this one."

  The stall owner's eyes widened, exaggerating and lying all the same, "Ohhh, yes hahahah! Miss sure does have good taste! Although they are very expensive since they're produced from the rarest of herbs. We can negotiate a discount!”

  The woman smiled once again, "There's no-"

  Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she swept her hand behind her, instantly grasping the wrist of a child who had his hands on her watch.

  The boy gritted his teeth, trying to escape her clutch, but she held on. The woman stared at him sternly before raising her other hand.

  'I'm done for...!' The boy clenched his eyes shut, but he didn’t expect the woman to merely pat his head and knelt in front of him.

  The boy slowly opened his eyes and saw the woman looking at him gently. Her eyes, which were a strange gradient of purple relative to her hair, reflected the dusk light through the gloomy grey clouds, which gave them a vibrant glow.

  "You poor child… having to resort to this." She said with sadness flickering in her eyes.

  "Let... go!" The boy growled as he struggled in her grip.

  The woman smiled gently before loosening her grip, but she still held onto his hands, "You must be hungry, right?"

  The boy stopped struggling and looked at her, and his eyes flashed with visible confusion.

  The woman took the boy to a nearby food vendor and bought a steaming lamb kebab stick. The smell of umami wafted onto the boy's nose, and his mouth watered. Although his parents would frequently have this kind of food, the boy would never get any and merely lived off their leftover rice or spoiled food he’d find on the floor near stalls.

  "Here you go, eat up, you must've been hungry all this time." Seeing the woman offer him one, a foreign warmth lightened in his heart. He took the kebab stick off her and gnawed it down. The woman watched him with a warm smile.

  In seconds, the boy had wolfed it down, and he started licking the stick to try and savour every bit of the kebab. The woman's eyes flickered with sadness, and she ordered another kebab stick for him.

  As the boy started on his second one, the woman spoke, "So what's your name, little boy?"

  "I don't have one." The boy responded inaudibly as he gulped down a large chunk of food before promptly taking another bite.

  "You poor child..." Sorrowful surprise settled in the woman's face, "Just what kind of life have you been living?"

  The boy didn't respond. As someone who appeared as good as her, she could never relate to the level of hardships the poor go through in the slums, and this was just one case of many. Her expression turned to determination, "My name is Rosaria, and I sell weapons at the vendor there."

  She pointed at one of the larger stalls in the area, not too far from here, "I just came to this village to do business a few days ago, but I'll be staying here for a while. If you're ever hungry, just come to big sister, and I’ll buy you whatever you like."

  Pleasant shock and warmth filled the boy's heart. This unfamiliar sensation spread through his being as he stared at the woman in awe.

  The next few days passed in a flash. The boy would steal during the day, and in the evening, he would go to Rosaria's stall, and she would buy him all sorts of food and tell him various things, including her experiences in other villages and her journeys. The boy would quietly listen to her as he ate his food.

  The boy then soon came to realise one thing. This warmth he felt whenever he was with her was the warmth he had always yearned for from his mother. He had wanted this kind of affection from his mother for years, yet this woman had given it to him so easily.

  It was midnight. The rhythmic footsteps of the child walking in his loneliness echoed through the empty streets. His clothes were tattered, his face bruised, and he was bleeding from different areas of his body. It was evident he had just suffered a great beating.

  Although he was cunning and agile, he wasn't invincible. He would often get caught by adults and receive a beating. Since morning, he had made about 10 Krecos, which wasn't a lot considering that they had to collect 100 within a week, and he only had two days left until that deadline. Because of a cruel twist of fate, the men who had beaten him up today took all the Krecos he had accumulated since dawn.

  The sound of nothing but the gravel hitting his bare feet filled the streets. The red moonlight embraced him from afar, as though it wanted to grant him protection.

  Most of the villagers were asleep about now, but occasionally the child would hear children crying or adults arguing from inside certain houses. As he turned to a corner, he saw an inn, but from inside he heard a familiar voice. The child stopped in his tracks and stared hard at the inn. The voices grew louder and louder, and soon, the door got kicked open, and a man got pushed out. He scrambled down on the floor. This man was none other than his father.

  "C'mooon, you don't have to be so stingy. Just one more jug~" His father said as he crawled up from the floor.

  "Get lost!" The innkeeper shouted, "You don't even have a single dime on you."

  He then went inside and shut the door. His father then sighed and slumped next to the wall. His eyes then shifted to the side and looked right at the boy. The child tensed up, feeling his father’s gaze on him.

  "Ahhh. It's you, you stinkin' brat! C'mere!" He shouted.

  When he was close enough, the man pulled the boy down by his arm and rummaged through his clothes. He growled in frustration, realising he had no money on him.

  "Where the hell is the money, huh?!"

  The boy shivered, "I haven't made any yet…"

  "Gaaaah!" The man, drunk and enraged, grabbed a glass bottle and then smashed it down on the boy's head. He felt his world spin, but he didn't budge. This was nothing new for him after all. The glass shards were scattered across the floor, along with rivulets of blood.

  "What the hell have you been doing then?" He shouted, "Go and make some! How the hell am I supposed to get booze?!"

  The child gritted his teeth, "Actually, father… the debt collector came a few days ago-"

  "To hell with them!" He shouted before he raised his hand and landed a powerful slap on the child's face, sending him flying to the side, "All I care about is my damn booze!"

  The child lay still on the floor for a while before he finally got up again. The man found a nearby empty glass bottle and opened the lid before holding it over his mouth, trying to savour any remaining droplets. He was blissfully unaware of the menacingly gloomy gaze the boy stared at him with.

  The man finally got up as if he just had an idea. He then grabbed the child by the arm and pulled him hurriedly towards a large shop which was still open at this time. He then held the boy close, "You see that shop over there? Go and bring back all the money in their counter."

  The child's eyes widened, "But… that would be impossible. Even if I manage to steal, I'm sure they'll notice-"

  PA!

  Before the boy could finish his sentence, his father landed a powerful slap on his face, sending him toppling to the floor once again.

  "Don't you dare talk back to me! Do as I say, you ungrateful brat!" He bellowed.

  The boy didn't show the slightest reaction to this. He simply got up and walked towards the shop, his feet dragging due to exhaustion.

  The shop bell tinkled, and the boy stepped inside. It was fairly large, possibly the best business in this village. Items were lined up neatly, and they seemed fairly expensive, more so than other shops in this area. Most of this shop’s customers were travellers from other places, as a vast majority of Demons’ Hatch village folk were too poor.

  A couple of metres down the shop, the child saw the shop owner standing near the counter. He had his back turned towards the entrance, so the boy couldn't really see him. The boy made his way to the counter nervously.

  The shopkeeper, noticing someone's presence, finally looked up, "What do you want?"

  He was a large man with a curled-up moustache and a long beard.

  "Huh? A brat? What the hell are you doing here in the middle of the night?" He asked.

  "I… I- I just wanted to buy some medicine... for my mother." The child said, his eyes full of plea. It looked almost as if he was about to cry.

  Seeing this, the man let out a long sigh. "What medicine do you need?"

  "Just some herbs… to cure a cold," the boy pleaded, fidgeting. The man would never have guessed that this was a calculated masquerade. He sighed. The herbs weren't inside the shop, but instead they were cultivated in a special room just next to the counter. The child had predicted this much when he saw that there weren't any herbs on sale as soon as he walked in.

  The man stared hard at the child before taking his eyes to the counter. It was the middle of the night, and all of his assistants were asleep. Was it safe enough to leave the counter unguarded? The man then looked at the child, and his face only seemed to show worry and innocence.

  "There's no way this kid is capable of robbery…" the man muttered to himself and went inside the room.

  The instant the man stepped out of his sight, the boy’s eyes flashed with a sense of urgency, and he soundlessly jumped over the counter, and sure enough, there was a drawer. He tried to pull it open… but it was locked.

  Of course!

  His heart skipped a beat, and he frantically looked around. Something then caught his eye. On the other side of the shop, there were… sewing materials.

  The man looked through his arsenal of herbs, combing his beard with his fingers, "Where did I keep the astragalus roots?"

  He then noticed it a bit further down the room. He walked up to it and plucked out a few roots before grinding it into powder, "This should do…"

  He let out a loud yawn and made his way back into the shop. Just as he had expected, the boy was standing there with his eyes teary with anxiety.

  "Mister, have you got them?" The boy asked.

  The man placed the herb on the counter. "Here they are? That would be two Krecos."

  So expensive! Two Krecos for a few herbs?

  "I… I- I don't have any money…" The child said, stuttering over his words.

  The man shook his head in annoyance, "Tch. Then you can leave, you brat."

  The boy looked sorrowful, then he left the shop. He made sure he didn't make any sudden movements or the coins would rattle. Although there was a lot of money there, he couldn't take them all because he only had room for one pouch. He predicted there would be at least twenty Krecos in this pouch.

  When the boy had finally left, something caught the man's eye near his feet. Two bent needles were there…

  They looked almost as if… they were used to open a lock!