Keith POV
"Keith, dear boy, can you move this box for me? It is quite heavy. Also, before you end your shift, could you feed the cats at the back?"
"Sure thing, boss."
"Just call me Gramps like I said before, lad. You have been a great help for a while now, so please, make yourself right at home."
It has been a couple of months since I was saved by Mr. Hoffman, and he has been nothing but accepting toward an orphan like me. I never expected to find a home again after losing everything years ago. My parents were Awakened C-Rank Awakeners, but when I was fifteen years old, they were killed during a mission.
No cause of death was ever given to me and no reason was provided as to how they died; only their Awakener Cards were returned. I kept pressing the soldiers for information on who killed them, but the only things I received were cold shoulders, insults, and sometimes even a slap across the face. I knew they were hiding something about my parents' deaths.
One day, as I was returning from another failed attempt to get answers, I arrived to find my house ransacked and burning. My childhood was turning to ash right before my eyes. It felt as if I were watching my parents burn while I stood there powerless to do anything. I fell to the ground as tears began to stream down my face, but even through my blurred vision, I could see the mocking and sinister gazes from the crowd. I recognized those people. They were the very soldiers who had brought me the news of my parents' deaths. It was then that my hatred for those pieces of filth was truly fueled, and I swore on my life that I would uncover what happened to my parents.
Since then, I have survived off the money stored on their Awakener Cards, hopping between different apartments while trying to find a permanent home. But almost a year ago, my luck took a turn for the worse when I accidentally bumped into a rogue Awakener. He was livid that I had dirtied his shirt, so he beat the hell out of me and robbed me of my last two lifelines. I was beaten until I could barely stand, and every strike felt like a descent into hell. Through the blood flowing from my head, I could see his wicked smile. Despite the agony, I crawled desperately toward my parents' cards. At that point, it wasn't just about the money. Those cards were the last memories I had of them; they were their final gifts to me.
I crawled closer and closer until I reached the rogue's foot, only to be hoisted up by the neck and spat on. "Filthy scum," were the last words I remember before a punch to the gut sent me flying back into a trash-filled alley. I lost consciousness amidst the piles of garbage.
When I finally woke up, I couldn't even stand. I was starving and had no idea how long I had been out. The blood on my face had mixed with the filth of the trash and turned a disgusting shade of black. In that moment, I felt as if I belonged there, as if I were destined to die in the gutter. Mom, Dad, looks like I will be joining you sooner than I expected, I thought, closing my eyes and letting the pain overcome my senses.
However, the pain didn't worsen. Instead, it began to fade. I was genuinely confused as to why I wasn't dying, and when I slowly opened my eyes, I saw a wrinkled old man looking down at me. His hand was placed on my chest, glowing with green light and shimmering particles. I felt the agony leave my body until I finally lost consciousness again—not from pain this time, but from comfort.
"Keith, are you done with feeding the cats? Come here, I need help with a patient!"
The sudden call breaks me out of the terrible memories of the past few years.
"Alright, I am coming!"
As I reach the ward of the treatment room, Mr. Hoffman is already treating a patient with his Innate Skill. But the moment I look at the man on the table, I recognize him. It is the same rogue Awakener who beat me nearly to death and stole my parents' cards. I gaze at him with pure hate. In an instant, I lose all reasoning, ignoring my savior standing right next to him.
"Ahh, Keith, can you handle the oth—"
I lunge at the villain in front of me, coating my hands with mana. My mind is filled with nothing but rage and a singular intent to kill. Everything around me fades into darkness. I cannot hear anything and I cannot feel anything. All I see is my target.