"Remember this, Felix," the old woman said gently to Zen Felix. "Never hurt others without reason."
Felix nodded. "Alright, Grandma."
That day, like any other, Felix was working at his fishpond. The sunlight danced across the shimmering water, the fish darted playfully beneath the surface, and a peaceful stillness surrounded him. But peace, he had learned, never lasted long.
In the distance, he saw a group of men approaching. Their faces were cruel, their strides full of arrogance, and their laughter echoed with menace. They were street thugs—the same ones who had once beaten the very woman who raised him.
This time, they had come under orders from the city's rulers to intimidate Zen Felix and his grandmother.
Felix felt his anger rise like fire in his chest, but he kept calm. He knew that if he acted rashly, his name would spread across the city, possibly even reaching the ears of those in power. And that was the last thing he wanted.
"Hey, kid!" one of the thugs called out, clearly the leader. "So this is where you live? No wonder that old hag suddenly has more money and didn't drop dead!"
Felix said nothing, his eyes sharp and unwavering.
The thug grinned. "Hand over all your money and valuables, or we'll smash this dump and ruin your little fish business!"
The others stepped forward, ready to tear the place apart. But before they could act, Felix spoke, his voice calm yet firm.
"I'll have 2,000 Rot if I sell all these fish," he said, holding up an empty coin pouch. "Enough for you to party for a week. But if you destroy this place, you'll get nothing. I need time to sell the fish. Come back in a week—if you want more."
The thug paused, then burst into laughter. "Hah! Smart kid! Knows how to bargain!" He turned to his gang. "Let's go! We'll be back next week for a big harvest!"
They left, but Felix already knew—next time, they'd come back greedier. And maybe more violent.
So he prepared.
Over the next week, Felix set traps around the pond. Not deadly ones—just enough to stop them in their tracks.
Then, the day came.
The sound of heavy boots and angry shouts filled the air. The thugs returned, carrying machetes, chains, and other weapons. No more talking—they stormed forward, demanding money.
But before they could lay a hand on Felix, the first trap was triggered. The ground beneath them gave way, and three men fell into a pit of thick mud, struggling waist-deep, stuck fast.
The rest charged ahead—until ropes hidden in the grass snapped tight, yanking their legs and hoisting them upside down into the air. Screams of shock rang out, echoing across the quiet pond. Felix stood still, expressionless, watching them swing helplessly.
Only one remained—the hesitant one, who'd never seemed sure about coming. He froze, staring at his dangling companions. He swallowed hard, then turned to Felix with wide, uncertain eyes.
"Will you join them, or will you leave?" Felix asked, his voice even.
The man glanced around, then turned and ran without a word.
Felix walked up to the gang leader, who now hung upside down, dripping with sweat and fear.
"I could report you to the authorities," Felix said coldly, "but I know they don't care. Hell, they're probably the ones who sent you. So this—this is your warning. Come back here again, and I won't be this kind."
His eyes were ice. The thug shivered, realizing they had picked the wrong boy to mess with.
Though still a teenager, Zen Felix's mind was sharper than most adults'. Through the stories his grandmother told him, he had come to understand the world—a vast place filled with both wonder and cruelty. Justice, he'd learned, wasn't something everyone could uphold.
"Felix," his grandmother once said softly, yet with firm conviction, "when I'm gone, your mission is to stand for justice."
Felix looked at her, hesitant. "But Grandma… what kind of justice? How will I know when I've truly done the right thing?"
She smiled gently and placed a loving hand on his head. "To stand for justice, you must first destroy evil. Uproot it—make sure it can never grow again."
"But if I fight evil with more evil… can that really bring justice?" he asked, frowning.
"Not always, child," she replied, shaking her head. "That's only the first step. The second is to teach those in power what it means to be human."
"And after that?" he asked, eager.
She gazed up at the star-speckled night sky. "The world, Felix, is beneath your feet. If you want to bring change, then be someone who understands that true power comes from one thing—your heart."
Felix fell silent. Those words carved themselves into his memory, lingering even as they drifted off to sleep.
Zen Felix had been living with his grandmother for two years now, and his name was starting to be known throughout Pafilia. His sharp mind was admired by many, especially the common folk. Felix often helped merchants understand how to trade fairly and avoid being exploited by greedy officials.
"I have a special job for you, sir. If you accept, I'll reward you with the finest pearl in all of Pafilia," said Dorstan with a sly grin.
Gerson eyed him warily. "What kind of job?"
Dorstan didn't answer immediately. He weighed his words, then turned again toward the man—Gerson the Ghost, the fifth-ranked knight of the Dreadmourne Empire. A killer known for his precision.
"Teach a lesson to an old woman and her grandson outside the Patisia Market," Dorstan said coldly.
Gerson narrowed his eyes. "Why would I waste my skills on an old hag and a kid?"
Dorstan shrugged. "Just a simple job. Kill them if you must. After that, the best pearl in Pafilia is yours."
Gerson stared at the gleaming pearl in Dorstan's hand, a faint smirk creeping onto his lips. "Alright then. No need for reasons. If I have to kill them, so be it. Now where's the pearl? I want to leave this filthy place."
Dorstan handed it over with a wicked grin.
"Remember, sir," he said, "Dreadmourne's assassins never break their word."
"Easy work."
And in a blink, Gerson vanished.
That morning, Felix made his usual trip to the market, unaware of the danger looming over his home.
His grandmother was tending the fireplace when the air around her suddenly turned icy. A shiver ran down her spine—and before she could react, Gerson was already standing inside the house.
"Who are you?!" she cried out, both startled and terrified.
Gerson grinned. "I'm your master's messenger—Dorstan's."
"What do you want?! Why are you here?!" Her voice trembled.
"To teach you a lesson." He held up the pearl in his hand. "Dorstan paid me with this."
A deep dread washed over her. She bolted toward the door, but Gerson yanked her back violently.
"Please, I beg you!" she whimpered.
But Gerson was merciless. With his blackened claws, he slashed at the old woman, tearing through her body without pity. Her screams echoed through the small house, blood soaking into the wooden floor. Her once-clear eyes turned black as she withered, slipping into agonizing death.
Once certain she could no longer fight back, Gerson left the house and made his way toward the port. Along the way, he passed the market—right past Felix.
Unaware of anything, Felix cheerfully offered him fish.
"Sir, fresh catch! Would you like some?"
Gerson was tempted to finish the job right then and there. But the sound of the ship's crew calling for final boarding pulled him away. Annoyed, he continued toward the vessel.
That afternoon, a strange unease gripped Felix's heart. A sinking feeling he couldn't shake.
"Felix, where are you off to?" asked Lomur, the butcher from the next stall.
"I need to head home early today," Felix replied, already packing up.
"Alright, be careful on the way!"
Felix gathered his things and hurried home, carrying his grandmother's favorite food with a smile still lingering on his lips.
"I'm home, Grandma! Look what I brought you today!" he shouted joyfully as he reached the door.
But no answer came.
"Grandma? Are you there?" His voice faltered.
He pushed the door open—and the world came crashing down. His grandmother's body lay lifeless in a pool of blood.
His eyes widened. Breath caught in his throat. His heart shattered.
Suddenly, a dark aura erupted from within him. Fury surged through every cell of his body, and the air around him thickened with a black mist. All of Pafilia seemed to suffocate under the sudden wave of darkness.
Through the chaos in his soul, he heard a faint voice—her voice.
"Felix… remember what I told you… about justice…"
He clutched her cold hand, trembling. "Grandma, who did this?! I'll avenge you—I swear I will!"
"Dorstan… Felix…" she whispered—then fell silent.
Felix screamed in anguish.
The skies over Pafilia turned black. Wind howled like spirits of the dead.
And in the heart of a young man, a vow was sealed—a vow to uphold justice with his own hands.
But in his eyes now, there was only vengeance.