street fighting

Since that bloody conflict, Alice hadn't slept well for several nights. She was always terrified in her dreams, crying out incoherently, "Draven," "I'm scared," her small body curled up in a ball, her thin clothes soaked with cold sweat. Only when Draven held her as she slept could she calm down a little, burying her face in his not-so-broad but safe embrace, her breathing gradually becoming even.

What's even more worrying is her fear of tall men. This fear even extends to Darius. Whenever Darius finishes his day's work and drags his weary body back to the shed, trying to pat her head as usual, Alice would tremble uncontrollably like a frightened fawn, whimpering and hiding in Quiletta's or Draven's arms, as if Darius were some terrifying monster.

This left Darius feeling more frustrated and heartbroken than ever before. He sullenly walked to a corner and sat down, sighing more times in the past few days than he had in the entire previous year combined. An indescribable bitterness lingered in his heart, much like an old father who had been inexplicably estranged from his own daughter.

There were indeed positive aspects. Whether it was due to the miraculous power of old Fasa's herbs or the superior recovery ability of young people, Draven and Alice's injuries healed unexpectedly quickly. By the third day, the bruises on their bodies had begun to subside significantly, and the pain had lessened considerably. Draven's shoulder injury was indeed, as old Fasa had said, merely a muscle injury without any bone damage. By the fifth day, he could move his arm flexibly, began climbing up and down the house, and even pestered Darius to spar a few moves after dinner.

This brush with death truly taught Draven a profound lesson. In the past, as soon as his injuries healed, he would have been like a wild horse, disappearing without a trace to cause trouble in the slums. But now, five days later, he's spent most of his time obediently at home, and even when he occasionally goes out, he quickly returns to stay by Alice's side.

A week later, Darius rose early as usual and headed to the docks to find work as a porter. Quelletta had finished a batch of handicrafts the day before—weaving rough but sturdy fishing nets—and needed to deliver them to a small workshop near the north gate. Not wanting to leave her two young children alone at home, she decided to take them with her.

"Lack, come here," Quiretta called to the skinny dog, carefully tying the rope of the cart around its body. Draven, on the other hand, volunteered to pick up the bundle of finished fishing nets; it was quite heavy, but he insisted on carrying it himself. Alice was carefully lifted into the cart by Quiretta and settled in.

After the goods were delivered, the workshop foreman carefully inspected the finished product and was fairly satisfied. He counted out twelve copper coins and handed them to Quiretta—this was all the money she had earned from two days of hard work. Quiretta carefully put the coins away, looked at her two children who were looking at her expectantly, and remembered that they had helped out at home these past few days. She smiled and took out two copper coins, giving one to each of them.

"Here, this is your payment for helping out."

The three people and the dog walked along the filthy riverside path, through the increasingly dense shantytowns, towards the north gate. After delivering the goods, the workshop foreman carefully inspected them, nodded, and counted out twelve copper coins, handing them to Quiletta—her entire earnings from two days of hard work. Quiletta carefully put the coins away, smiled at the two children who were looking at her expectantly, and took out two coins, placing one in Draven's hand and the other in Alice's.

"Here you go, you've helped me sort out the loose threads these past few days, that's something too."

Draven clutched the copper coin, still warm from Quileta's body, with delight, while Alice looked curiously at the small, round metal piece in her palm and mimicked Draven's gesture, gripping it tightly as well.

The three walked back in a relaxed mood. When they passed a fork in the road, they saw a traveling peddler resting by the roadside. His load of goods was covered with all sorts of small items, from needles and thread to cheap daily necessities and trinkets.

Alice's gaze was immediately drawn to it.

She pointed with her little finger to an item on the peddler's carrying pole and whispered, "Sister Kui...that..."

It was a cage woven from thin bamboo strips, with a clever structure and a funnel-shaped entrance—the kind of trap where bait is placed inside and the fish and shrimp sink to the bottom of the water, making it difficult for them to escape.

Quiretta was both amused and exasperated. She pulled Alice closer and pointed to the cage, explaining, "Little Alice, this is for catching fish, not a toy."

Alice, however, was very serious. She blinked her large, ruby-like eyes and said, "There's a river by the door. If we catch fish, Darius won't have to go to such a far place." — She wanted to use this tool to lighten Darius's burden.

This ambiguous statement startled both Quiretta and Draven, who was standing beside her. Quiretta felt a slight unease; it seemed that although the incident had left a shadow, Alice still remembered Darius's kindness and was caring for him in her own way. This perhaps meant that the shadow in her heart was slowly fading.

Seeing that a child was interested, the peddler immediately put on a smile: "Little girl, you have a good eye! This trap is sturdy, three copper coins each!"

Quileta frowned, then expertly began haggling: "One copper coin."

The peddler shook his head: "Oh dear, miss, a single copper coin isn't even enough to cover the cost! Look at this workmanship..."

Draven, watching from the side, was about to offer to give Alice his coins to help them buy it, but Quiretta quietly squeezed his hand, signaling him to be quiet. She hugged Alice and pretended to turn and leave, saying, "Never mind, it's too expensive."

Seeing them about to leave, the peddler hurriedly called out, "Hey! Don't go! Two! At least two copper coins!"

Quilette kept walking: "Forget it, it's too expensive. I'll just make one myself when I get back."

Seeing that they were really about to leave, the peddler stamped his foot and said, "Oh! Oh well! Since your child really likes it, I'll sell it to you at a loss, one copper coin it is! Take it!"

Draven, standing to the side, was dumbfounded, witnessing Quiletta's bargaining skills for the first time.

Alice happily hugged the pumpkin-sized basket in her stroller, as if she had received the most precious treasure. Draven, on the other hand, used his one copper coin to buy two rye loaves of bread.

As they passed the butcher shop, dusk was approaching. The owner was packing up his stall, leaving behind some less-than-ideal scraps and scraps of meat on the cutting board. Seeing Darius working tirelessly from dawn till dusk these past few days, and with their two children growing, Quelleta gritted her teeth and bought half a pound of meat for a few copper coins. The butcher, a burly man, saw that Alice was adorable and wanted to tease her. He grinned and moved closer, but Alice recoiled in fright, nearly tipping over her cart.

The boss awkwardly rubbed his hands, somewhat at a loss. Just then, the boss's wife lifted the curtain and came out from the inner room. Seeing this scene, she scolded her husband irritably: "Look at you, you big, fat, and burly man, you look like you're going to eat people when you smile! Look how scared you've scared that child!" She recognized Alice, the white-haired, unable-to-walk little girl who was somewhat "famous" in the neighborhood. Seeing that it was not easy for Quelletta to take care of two children alone, she felt pity for her. So she took out a large bone from under the counter, which had little meat but was good for making soup, and handed it to Quelletta: "Take this, make some soup for the children."

The three thanked him and left. Not far away, they could still faintly hear the butcher in the butcher shop behind them saying to his wife, "Our daughter is so cute, so delicate and soft. Shall we try harder and have another one?" The wife responded with a coquettish laugh.

As they entered the slum where the shacks were located, the surrounding scenery gradually became familiar yet dilapidated. Suddenly, Lak, at the front, stopped, his neck fur bristling, and turned to bark wildly at the group behind him.

As Lak barked, several figures emerged from behind a pile of debris at the alley entrance, blocking their escape route. Meanwhile, figures appeared at the other end of the alley, forming a pincer movement.

The one in the lead was the same short-haired guy who had run away that day. Beside him was a man who looked to be about eighteen or nineteen years old, clearly the leader of the group. There were also several other thugs of varying ages, the youngest two of whom looked to be only eleven or twelve.

"Boss! It's them!" The crew-cut guy's leg injury didn't seem to have fully healed, and he walked with a limp. He pointed at Draven, his voice filled with venom, "That shorty stabbed Fangtooth to death! And that white-haired little monster in the car, he set his dog on my leg!"

The man, referred to as the boss, glanced at Quileta and the two children before finally settling on Draven, slowly approaching. "You've got some nerve, daring to mess with someone from our Black Rat Gang."

Lak sensed intense hostility, stood in front of the car, bared his teeth, and barked wildly, trying to scare away the uninvited guests.

The atmosphere was tense. Just as one of the thugs, growing impatient, reached out to grab Quiretta's arm—

A tall figure rushed out from a narrow alleyway nearby. It was Darius! He had just returned from the docks and witnessed the scene.

Without saying a word, Darius swung his fist and smashed it directly into the thug's face!

"Crack!" The sound of his nose breaking was exceptionally jarring in the narrow alley. The thug didn't even utter a sound before falling backward, blood gushing from his collapsed nasal cavity.

"You're asking for it!" Darius roared, delivering another heavy elbow strike that slammed into the chest of another thug who was trying to sneak up from the side. The man groaned and collapsed to the ground.

"Quelletta! Take them away!" Darius stood in front of the three and shouted at Quelletta, while keeping a wary eye on the remaining people.

"None of them will escape!" The Black Rat Gang leader waved his hand and ordered, "Charge! Kill them all!"

Upon hearing the command, Lark immediately pulled the cart, barking as he raced towards the depths of the alley. Quileta knew that staying behind would only be a burden, so she gritted her teeth, turned around, and tried to run after the cart, but a thug grabbed her hair from behind.

Draven had already secretly gripped his dagger, and seeing this, he stabbed at the thug's arm. The thug, in pain, released his grip, and Quiretta seized the opportunity to break free. Knowing she couldn't run in the same direction as Alice, she turned and disappeared into a side road on the left.

"Send someone after that woman! Don't let her get away! The rest of you, take care of these two men first!" shouted the Black Rat gang leader. One of the thugs immediately chased after Quileta in the direction she had fled. Darius tried to stop him, but was held back by the remaining men, and a fierce battle broke out instantly.

Darius, like a tiger caught in a pack of wolves, was powerful and relentless, each punch and kick accompanied by the cracking of bones. But his opponents outnumbered him and were clearly more experienced and coordinated than the previous group. A wooden stick slammed into his back with a dull thud, causing him to stagger. He grabbed the stick with his backhand, pulled the man in front of him, and delivered a powerful headbutt to his face! Another thug seized the opportunity to slash Darius's arm with a knife, drawing blood.

Draven was also in danger. Although he was agile, his strength and experience were far inferior to these thugs. One thug seized the opportunity and kicked him in the stomach, causing Draven to bend over in pain. Another thug raised a stick and smashed it down on his head!

If that hits hard, he'll be crippled or killed!

At that critical moment, a ruthless glint flashed in Draven's eyes, a ruthlessness beyond his years. Instead of trying to block the stick, which he couldn't possibly block in time, he darted forward like an eel while bent over, and with a precise and vicious thrust of the knife he was holding, plunged it into his opponent's abdomen!

Unlike the panic and fear he felt during his first murder, this time, Draven felt his hand was very steady. He could even clearly feel the blade breaking through the barrier and penetrating deep into the body. Warm liquid splattered on his face; he only instinctively closed his eyes for a moment before yanking out the knife, not even glancing at his opponent who had collapsed, clutching his stomach and letting out a piercing scream. His heart was pounding, not from fear, but because he knew that here, it was either him or her; hesitation and weakness would only kill himself and his family.

On the other side, Quiretta ran desperately, turning into a dead-end alley filled with rubble. She quickly hid behind an overturned, broken box, pulling out the small knife she usually used to cut food and thread from her clothes—the blade was thin and long, only the length of a finger, and almost weightless in her hand. She gripped the handle tightly, held her breath, and listened to the approaching footsteps.

The pursuers quickly caught up and, seeing it was a dead end, laughed triumphantly: "Running? Why aren't you running anymore? You bitch, you made me chase you this far!" As he approached the broken box, cursing, Quelletta suddenly lunged out and, with all her might, plunged her knife into the pursuer's eye!

The thug reacted quickly, instinctively raising his hand to block, and the knife pierced his palm.

"Ah!" The thug screamed and pulled his hand back, then furiously punched Quiretta in the stomach. Quiretta doubled over in pain, and the knife slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

The disparity in strength between the man and woman meant that Quileta was quickly pinned to the ground. The thug slapped her across the face, making her see stars. Panting heavily, the thug began tearing at her clothes: "You filthy bitch! You won't listen to reason! If you don't resist, we'll go easy on you; we don't want to fuck a bruised and battered bitch!"

Just as Quelletta was in despair, the familiar barking of dogs grew louder as it approached!

Alice's car appeared at the alley entrance, the girl's face streaked with tears. Behind her followed three unfamiliar stray dogs—a limping black dog, a sturdy yellow dog, and a skinny spotted dog. They bared their teeth and growled in low growls.

"Don't you dare bully Quelleta!" Alice ripped the knot off Lack's neck, pointed at the thug pinning Quelleta down, and shouted through a sob, "Bite him to death!"

Four dogs barked and pounced on the thug. Terrified, he tried to get up, but was overwhelmed by the pack. The black dog and Rak bit his arms, the yellow dog lunged at his throat, and the spotted dog frantically tore at his legs. The piercing screams and the sounds of flesh being torn apart were horrifying.

Quileta struggled to crawl away, and looking at the scene before her, her stomach churned. The boy was still struggling, but the wild dogs showed no mercy, tearing at his flesh with their heads.

Quiretta staggered to Alice's side, her legs trembling. Alice knelt on the cart and reached out to hug Quiretta's waist, saying, "Don't be afraid, Quiretta, Alice will protect you."

The screams gradually faded until they stopped completely. Only then did the wild dogs give up tearing at the unrecognizable corpse. Flesh and entrails were scattered all over the ground, and blood was splattered everywhere.

The four dogs, having completed their task, wagged their tails and ran to Alice, affectionately licking her face and hands, as if seeking praise. Their mouths were smeared with blood, which all ended up on Alice's face, but she only felt a ticklish sensation, giggling and innocently stroking their heads: "Good dogs, good dogs, so clever!" After enjoying the petting, the three stray dogs barked a few times and quickly disappeared into the shadows of the alleyway.

Just then, Darius and Draven helped each other over. A dog darted out and brushed past their feet, causing Draven to stumble and nearly fall. Both brothers were injured; Darius's arm wound was still bleeding profusely, while Draven clutched his ribs, his face bruised and battered, but his eyes were even more ferocious than before. They had also finished off the fight over there.

Draven walked over to the dog-torn corpse, kicked it, and spat bloody saliva at it with disgust: "Serves you right, you bastard."

Darius then quickly went to the shaken Quiretta and the unharmed Alice to check if they were injured.

Are you alright?

Quilette shook her head and hugged Alice tightly.

Draven looked back in the direction the three dogs had run off to: "Where did those dogs come from?"

“They saved me and Sister Qu,” Alice said innocently, completely unaware of her horrific, blood-covered appearance. “They’re good dogs.”

Darius tore off a piece of his clothing and used it to quickly bandage the wound on his hand, then looked at his brother: "Can you walk?"

Draven nodded, despite the sharp pain in his ribs with each breath. "I won't die."

The four men, supporting each other, led Lark back to the riverside hut. Darius braced his back against the wooden door, carefully securing the not-so-sturdy bolt, and then moved the only table in the house to prop it against the door. Having done all this, he sat on the bed and slowly exhaled a breath of foul air, tinged with the smell of blood. As his tense nerves relaxed slightly, the pain throughout his body became acutely apparent.

Draven collapsed into a corner as soon as he entered the room. The fierceness and toughness he had shown while fighting for his life vanished instantly. He grimaced and gasped for breath, clutching his ribs, his forehead beaded with cold sweat. Finally, he allowed himself to let out a suppressed groan.

Quileta, without taking a break, immediately and deftly started a fire to boil water. Once the water was boiling, she used a clean rag dipped in the hot water to first wash the gruesome cut on Darius's arm, wiping away the blood and dirt to reveal the torn flesh. Then, she carefully wiped the blood and grime from Draven and Alice's faces and bodies.

Draven, groaning in pain but unable to contain his excitement, boasted to Alice, who sat on the edge of the bed, her face still pale, "Alice! Didn't you see that? That was close! That bastard swung a stick at my head, a stick that was thick!" He gestured with an exaggerated size. "Hey! But who am I, Draven? I wouldn't let him hit me! I lunged forward, and whoosh! I stabbed him in the stomach! He screamed like a pig being slaughtered!" He deliberately omitted the details of how he was doubled over in pain after being kicked in the stomach, focusing only on exaggerating his own bravery.

Alice's eyes widened, her red pupils sparkling with admiration: "Draven is the best! Like a hero in a story! He chased away all the bad guys!" In her excitement, she hugged Draven, but accidentally touched his bruised ribs.

"Ouch—!" Draven was caught off guard and screamed in pain, almost jumping up.

Alice was startled and quickly withdrew her hand, her little face full of guilt and panic: "I'm sorry, Draven! I, I didn't mean to... Does it hurt? Alice will blow on it and it won't hurt anymore..." She leaned over, puffed out her cheeks, and carefully blew gently towards Draven's ribs.

Draven's grimacing expression softened, but he still stubbornly insisted, "N-nothing! Just a minor injury! Draven can handle it!"

On the other side, Darius sat silently on the bed, extending his injured arm as Quiretta carefully stitched up the deeper wound on his arm with a sewing needle she had heated over a fire, dipped in homemade herbal juice that was supposedly anti-inflammatory. The needle pierced the flesh, bringing sharp, stinging pains, but Darius didn't even flinch; only the beads of sweat on his forehead showed he wasn't completely unaffected.

Alice blew on Draven's arm for a while, then climbed over to Darius, tilting her little face up to look at the wound on his arm that Quileta had stitched up. She whispered, "Draven's in pain too! Alice'll blow on it for you too." As she spoke, she gently blew on Darius's arm as well—after facing danger together tonight, Alice realized that this tall, silent "Draven" was different from the big, bad guys in the alley who wanted to hurt her. The inexplicable fear dissipated considerably, and she became the little sister who would rely on him and act spoiled around him again.

Darius paused slightly, then gently stroked Alice's soft, silvery-white hair with his uninjured right hand. After so many days, he could finally touch her like this again without causing her fear or trembling. This man, who could exhaust a grown man carrying loads on the docks and who wouldn't even blink when surrounded by thugs, felt a sudden, uncontrollable lump in his throat. The old father quickly looked up, took a deep breath, and suppressed the sudden wave of emotion.

With their wounds treated, exhaustion washed over them like a tidal wave. Tonight, no one dared to sleep alone. The elderly father, Darius, lay sprawled on the bed, his left arm around Quileta, Alice on his right, and Draven nestled close to Alice's side.

On the cramped bed, four wounded bodies huddled together. In the darkness, Darius paused for a moment, then lowered his head and placed two feather-light kisses on the foreheads of Quileta and Iris—Draven was too far away, his arm pinned down, to reach...

Darius woke up numb the next morning. His arms, which had been used as pillows all night, were almost completely numb and tingling from poor blood circulation; even the slightest movement felt like being pricked with needles. He looked at Quiretta and Alice, still fast asleep, and tried to get dressed, but found his hands wouldn't obey him; he couldn't even tie a simple belt. He could only gently nudge Quiretta beside him with his shoulder and whisper, "Quiretta, wake up, help me."

Quileta woke up groggily and saw Darius holding up his two "useless" arms with a helpless expression. She couldn't help but chuckle. She got up and first checked Darius's wounds. Carefully peeling back the bandages, she was surprised to find that the cut on his arm, where the flesh had been torn open the night before, had stopped bleeding, scabbed over, and turned a darker color. The burning pain from last night had subsided considerably. She then looked at the area on his back where he had been hit by the stick. Although the large bruises were still there, the swelling seemed to have subsided somewhat, and the color was no longer a frightening purplish-black.

The speed of recovery was astonishing. Quileta subconsciously glanced at Alice, who was still fast asleep, and Darius followed her gaze. He reached out his right hand, which had just regained some feeling, and gently touched Alice's rosy cheeks, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

They exchanged a glance but said nothing. They got up quietly, trying not to wake Draven and Alice. A new day had begun. Darius needed to go to the docks to see if there was any work, and Quileta needed to find new laundry or weaving jobs.