"Yeah, who cares about someone like me anyway?" A low voice echoed in the dim alley.
Alleys like this were always the forgotten corners of bustling cities. Especially now, at night, aside from stray cats and dogs, there wasn't a soul in sight.
Yet, in this environment, a dejected man sat on the ground, head lowered, muttering numbly.
The nearby trash can emitted waves of stench, but he didn't seem to care, simply grabbing a nearby liquor bottle and pouring it down his throat.
Clearly, the man wasn't homeless, just a disheartened middle-aged man. However, his current mental state seemed... unstable.
His messy hair, his bloodshot, bulging eyes – everything indicated he was on the verge of collapse.
"If that's the case, why not choose to change everything yourself?"
A familiar voice whispered from the darkness. The man jerked his head up but saw no one.
Just as he thought he was hallucinating, the voice sounded again, right beside his ear. He whipped his head around, only to find a discarded toy puppet lying in the trash can.
"You're filled with hatred, aren't you? Hating your colleague for stealing your bonus. Hating your boss for withholding three full years of salary, only giving you minimum wage each month."
"But your cowardice makes you afraid of being fired, afraid of losing the income you depend on. Time and time again, you chose to swallow your anger."
"Who are you?"
"You comfort yourself with baseless fantasies, thinking he'll have a change of heart someday. But when that liver cancer diagnosis landed in your hands, you felt unprecedented fear."
"Shut up!" The man, initially just unnerved, began to tremble uncontrollably upon hearing the voice's narration. He tried to stand up, to expose the prank, but a sharp pain suddenly shot through his liver.
He collapsed back onto the ground in agony, his vision filled only by the scattered liquor bottle. Yet, even so, the voice showed no sign of stopping.
"The threat of death scared you. You mustered the courage to confront him, only to be rejected once again, just as expected. You were furious, recklessly threatening him with the dirt you had, finally making him feel fear."
"You thought you had won, never expecting security to take you down the moment you stepped outside. You lost your last bargaining chip, and your last chance."
"Don't... say anymore," the intense pain made the man curl up like a cooked shrimp, only able to offer weak pleas. But clearly, the voice wouldn't stop just because he wished it.
"And the reason you're so afraid... is because you worry you can't afford the bride price to marry her. You're over thirty. That's why, even knowing she has unclear relationships with many others behind your back, you pretend not to know."
"Your only hope was to get your owed salary back, give her a decent wedding, thinking that would keep her forever. Little did you know..."
Before the voice could continue, the man was already shaking uncontrollably. Clearly, he wasn't unaware of these things; he just didn't dare face them.
"Day after day, deceiving yourself, fantasizing that others will show kindness, fantasizing that others will pity you. But you know better than anyone: nobody cares about you."
"It's not my fault! I'm just an ordinary person! I thought about changing things, but I just couldn't do it!" the man cried out desperately, tears mixing with the grime on his face.
He was like a stray dog with a broken spine, lacking even the courage to bark.
But just as he expected the voice to continue its mockery, everything suddenly fell silent. The pain in his liver gradually faded; his body felt lighter than ever before. The buzzing in his head subsided, his thoughts becoming incredibly clear.
He had broken free from all the shackles of suffering, entering a brand new world.
At this moment, the man finally realized the voice speaking earlier... was distinctly his own.
Suddenly, the clatter of wooden joints seemed to sound nearby. He saw it – in the darkness, a wooden puppet, identical to himself, was 'smiling' at him.
"Don't worry. I will grant you the power to change everything. 'We' will grant you the power. Let the sinners be punished, let injustice vanish completely. Let this world become what it 'originally' should have been."
"You? You guys? No... who are we?" The bizarre scene triggered instinctive fear in the man. But thinking of his miserable reality, an intense longing dominated his emotions.
"We are... the Herrscher of the Legion!"
The moment the words fell, countless voices converged in the man's mind, endlessly repeating the title "Herrscher of the Legion". Unconsciously, the man himself began to murmur.
"We are... the Legion."
He staggered to his feet, like a corpse slowly rising from the abyss.
The phone he never dared turn off lay shattered. The intense pain of late-stage liver cancer seemed nonexistent. In this moment, the man felt unprecedented freedom.
He stumbled out of the alley, completely unaware that his eyes were now filled with a scarlet, blood-red hue. Just then, a white-haired girl entered his field of vision.
The man grinned, revealing yellowish-brown teeth.
...
"Ren, are you feeling better?"
On the night streets, Kiana moved alone through the crowd, talking on her phone to Ren back at the hotel.
After the events in South Asia, Kiana deeply realized there were many places in the world still needing her help. So, she dragged Ren around, putting out fires. This city was their current destination.
They heard about numerous mysterious disappearances here, so the two came to investigate together. But during the journey, Ren suddenly felt unwell and fell into a deep sleep.
With no other choice, she had taken Ren to a hospital, but naturally, the hospital couldn't find anything wrong with a Herrscher's physique.
Fortunately, Ren woke up not long after. But to be safe, Kiana insisted on booking a hotel for him to rest temporarily, while she handled the investigation at night.
"No problem, probably just too tired lately."
"Really? Don't push yourself. If you feel unwell, you have to call me. The Herrscher of the Void's powers make travel pretty fast."
"Relax, I'm not a child."
On the other end, Ren, holding the hotel landline, smiled, answering her repeated concerns patiently. Having lived for so long, he'd never experienced the feeling of chatting endlessly on the phone like this. Now, he finally had.
Even though the call consisted mostly of repetitive expressions of care, neither felt tired of it. Only when Kiana was nearing her destination did she reluctantly hang up.
Putting down the phone, the smile on Ren's face gradually faded. He walked to the window of the high-rise hotel room, looking out at the night cityscape, a flicker of worry in his eyes.
"Project Stigma..."
He reached out, touching the window. The mirror-like glass reflected the boy's image. He stared at his own golden eyes, lost in prolonged thought.
Shaking his head, Ren closed his eyes, intending to disguise his irises back to their usual grey. However, when he opened them again, the light in his eyes hadn't changed at all; instead, it seemed even brighter.
This meant... his Herrscher authority was slipping out of control.