Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

Chapter 87 Addicts [II]

It was one of the most horrible scenes I ever had to bear witness to.

A few steps away from us, a woman no older than twenty-five wearing an old burlap sack for a dress had bumped into one of the police officers patrolling the streets.

The officer was a tall, lanky man with the kind of face that would make you angry just by looking at it. He looked to be in his thirties, with a bald head and patchy beard.

He grabbed the woman by the hair the moment her shoulder grazed him, and threw her to the ground.

Then, he drew his sword and placed the blade's sharp edge against her neck.

The woman had all the telltale signs of an addict — sunken eyes, sickly skin, unnaturally thin, and shaking like she was buried in snow.

Naturally, no one from the pedestrians came forward to defend her.

If anything, everyone started walking faster the moment they noticed those men dressed in khaki uniforms.

"You bitch! I'll kill you!" The officer sneered, pressing his blade further against the woman's gaunt neck until a drop of blood was drawn. "Junkies like you are better off dead, anyway!"

His fellow officers were quick to try and stop him.

"Soren! Let it go," one of them said.

"Leave it, man," the other tried to get him to back off. "These filthy junkies are not worth it."

The officer spat furiously at the woman and sheathed his sword back after calming down from his sudden outburst.

But just as the three officers were about to walk away, the woman on the ground barely raised herself from the ground, and grabbed the man's leg with trembling hands.

The very same man that was about to kill her a moment ago.

With glazed eyes, she looked up at him and uttered a few words through her quivering, cracked lips. "Re… resin… sir… some resin, please…"

The officer looked back at the woman, anger flashing across his face.

Then, a look of utter disbelief crossed him and he started laughing an ugly sound that was a mix of disgust and ridicule.

His face twisted, but not with pity.

No, it was something else entirely.

Amusement.

Dark, unfiltered glee.

"You hear this?" he barked, turning to his fellow officers with a wild grin. "The gremlin wants resin! Of all things!"

They exchanged uneasy scoffs but said nothing, their silence feeding his manic energy.

"Crawling in the dirt like the filth you are, and you think you can ask for something?" He leaned down. "You should be thanking me for not slicing your damn throat."

The woman, oblivious to the venom in his words, reached out again, her trembling fingers brushing his boot.

Her desperation was louder than her fear.

Or maybe she didn't even feel fear at all.

"Re... resin..." she whispered again, her voice hollow, almost mechanical, as though her body had forgotten any word but that one.

The officer's grin widened, a predator toying with wounded prey.

He raised his boot slowly, letting the anticipation linger, and then brought it down — not hard, but enough to send her sprawling back into the dirt.

He then took out a small wrapper, something similar to candy, and held it tauntingly over her head.

"Fine. If you want it that bad, then here. This is some resin. I'll give you this if you strip down and dance for us."

She did that.

She stood up, shaking and coughing, and slipped out of the burlap sack.

Right in the middle of the street, not caring who might be watching, not caring that the weather was chilly.

She stripped and danced desperately, her thin limbs pale and shaking, her movements pathetic and jerky.

The other officers started laughing by this point as well, joining the first one in insults and jeers.

After she tried asking again, the first officer shook his head mockingly.

She fell to her knees, begging and weeping, clutching frantically at his legs, promising him anything.

Anything…

"Oh, you really are so desperate!" The officer said while putting the wrapper in his pocket. "Okay, let me help."

Without any sort of warning, he grabbed her by the neck and dragged her toward the nearest gutter.

She struggled weakly, but it was no use — he was stronger, and she was little more than bones and desperation.

He shoved her face toward the muck and straight into the stagnant filth.

"Here," he growled. "Go on, drink it up. Maybe you'll find your resin down there."

She didn't cry out. She didn't fight. She just went limp with her face deep in the grime.

It was at that moment I felt something rise in me — not pity, not anger, but a simmering disgust. Your next read awaits at empire

Not for her. For him.

I thought about moving. Doing something.

But my logical side stopped me.

Picking a fight with police officers in a foreign region where we were supposed to stay low and work on our mission didn't sound like a good idea.

Unfortunately — or maybe fortunately for that woman — not everyone was as logical as me.

Michael, who was held off by Lily until now, shook her grip on his arm and darted toward the officer.

Everyone else reacted a second too late.

In a flash, he was in front of the man, pushing him away from the woman.

Michael's shove was no gentle warning, either — it was forceful enough to send the officer stumbling back.

The laughter of the khaki-clad men stopped, their jeers replaced by sharp gasps from everyone in the crowd to witness this scene.

The officer Michael pushed straightened himself, eyes narrowing into a glare that carried both surprise and burning fury.

"Who the hell do you think you are, boy?!" the officer screamed, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword.

Michael didn't flinch.

He stood tall. His stance was loose but it belonged to someone who wasn't just familiar with violence, but comfortable in it.

"She needs help," Michael said evenly. "And you give her humiliation?"

The officer frowned and then laughed bitterly, but there was no humor in it. "Help? Is this your first day here, you insolent maggot? Do you not know what these junkies are like? They're nothing but leeches draining this city dry!"

Michael tilted his head slightly, studying the officer with a gaze that was colder than the biting wind.

But before he could do anything reckless again, I was already standing between them, pressing my arm against his chest to hold him back.

Meanwhile, I turned to the officer and gave him my warmest, friendliest smile.

"Sorry for the trouble, officer," I said in a sincere tone. "You were right. This actually is the first day for me and my friends in the city. It won't happen again. Promise."

Of course, it wasn't going to be so easy.

As soon as I began turning around, the three officers drew their weapons and pointed them at us. Two swords and a gun.

"Hold it right there!" the first one said. "You're not off the hook that easily."

I took a deep breath. Then I let go of that deep breath.

When I faced the man again, the smile on my face had turned dangerously cold. "Let it go, officer. I don't think you want trouble with us."

The officer's face contorted, but before he could start spitting curses, Alexia and her loyal Shadow were also in front of us.

"You heard the guy," the blind girl chipped in. "Just let us go. We don't want any trouble."

"The trouble started when that boy pushed me–" the first officer was about to retort, but he was cut in by one of his own friends.

"It's fine," the second guy said while lowering his sword, seemingly the most sensible of the three. "But for future reference, touching a police officer on duty is a crime. Don't pull a stunt like this ever again."

The first guy obviously had a problem with that decision. So, they began to argue.

And by that time, I was already walking off.