#001. The Boy on the Scrap Heap (1)
—
An evening where twilight was setting.
Ray was sitting atop a pile of scrap.
Discarded furniture. Broken electronics.
Useless junk. Rusty metal.
A small hill where all sorts of discarded items clung to one another.
Thanks to its considerable height, climbing up here allowed one to see the surrounding scenery at a glance.
Scrap heaps rising all around.
The place he was at was the outskirts of the dump in Sector 50.
In front, an endless, vast wasteland stretched out.
Behind, a city full of old concrete buildings was visible.
The place where Ray was born and had lived his entire life.
Sector 50, an area completely turned into a slum.
Ray lowered his gaze.
Below, ragged boys carrying pincers and bags were wandering between the piles of scrap.
Like Ray, they were street orphans who survived by collecting scrap.
The difference was that, unlike Ray, the boys moved in groups of two or three.
Each belonged to their own group.
Almost without exception.
If you don’t take, you’ll be taken from.
If you don’t kill, you’ll be killed.
Survival of the fittest, down to the bone.
Without banding together, one couldn’t endure the ecosystem of Sector 50.
Thud, thud, roll──
A flashlight that had been on the pile rolled down the slope.
Thud!
After rolling across the ground, it stopped at the feet of some boys.
The boys looked up at Ray.
Their eyes met for a moment.
“…….”
“…….”
The boys, gauging Ray’s reaction, picked up the flashlight and started running somewhere.
Ray remained indifferent.
He simply thought to himself.
That even if they picked it up, it would be of no use.
Ray’s eyes followed the boys’ movements.
The open area in the center of the dump.
The boys, having arrived there, caught their breath and handed the flashlight to someone.
To be exact, it wasn’t a person.
Its face and limbs were made entirely of rough stone.
It stood about 2 meters tall.
The stone was a silvery-gray tone, giving it an almost metallic appearance.
Creak─ creak─
The adults of Sector 50 called the living creature “Golem.”
No one knew who its master was, where it came from, or what purpose it served.
No one had any exact knowledge about the golem.
It was simply said to have existed in Sector 50 since long ago.
One thing was certain.
The golem collected specific scraps from the dump, and if given an item that met its criteria, it would offer food in return.
Canned goods or biscuits.
And high-quality foods like chocolate.
─Here! Eat! Come on, eat this!
The boys excitedly waved the flashlight in front of the golem.
Their voices, filled with excitement, were loud enough to reach where Ray was.
─Whirr.
The golem emitted a red glow from its two eye sockets.
It stared at the flashlight for a few seconds, then turned its body and stomped away in another direction.
The boys chased after it, waving the flashlight, but the golem’s reaction didn’t change.
Afterward, other groups brought scraps, but the results were the same.
─Damn it! Why won’t it take this?
─Should we just smash it to pieces?
─Stop it. They said attacking the golem brings retaliation.
─Yeah, remember when the golem entered the streets and killed people?
The golem was fickle.
Sometimes it would accept the same type of item it had taken before, and sometimes it wouldn’t, and vice versa.
The success rate of scrap collecting was extremely low, but the lucrative rewards kept the children from giving up.
Watching the scene, Ray climbed down the scrap heap.
Clank. Clank. Tap!
He didn’t slip or fall.
His movements were steady as though descending solid stairs.
Looking around, he headed toward the open area.
He picked up a few scraps he had scouted out beforehand.
“Here.”
Arriving at the open area, Ray handed a bag to the golem.
The golem’s red glowing eyes scanned the contents of the bag.
Creak─
The golem lifted the bag and poured the scraps into its mouth.
Thud! Thud!
The scraps tumbled into its body.
The golem tightly closed its mouth, shuddered once, then opened its mouth again and retrieved food from within.
Three cans of food. Two packs of biscuits.
One loaf of bread. One piece of chocolate.
If eaten sparingly alone, it was enough to last three days.
The other boys watching the scene widened their eyes in astonishment.
“Hey. Look at that.”
“How does he manage to do that every time…?”
Murmurs could be heard from here and there.
“…What about this? Should we try?”
“Don’t be stupid. That’s Ray, the Ghost of Street 17.”
Used to such reactions, Ray didn’t pay them much mind.
He quietly packed the food into his bag and headed for the dump’s exit.
“…….”
Before long, he sensed presences following behind him.
Two on the left, hiding behind the heap.
Two on the right.
And three trailing from behind.
Seven in total.
It wasn’t a small number.
Their intentions were obvious.
Ray glanced at the bag slung over one shoulder.
He stopped walking in a spot he judged suitable for a fight and turned around.
“Come out. How long are you planning to follow me?”
There was no response.
He pretended to step on the bread with his foot, and only then did he sense movement.
“Your instincts are really sharp. I thought we were being careful.”
As expected, seven figures emerged.
They held clubs and knuckles in their hands.
“Ron. I’m pretty sure I warned you last time. If I saw you again, I’d make sure you’d never walk on two legs for the rest of your life.”
The biggest boy in the group.
The orange-haired Ron flinched when his eyes met Ray’s.
But he soon remembered that his group far outnumbered Ray and growled.
“Why are you bringing up something so old? I don’t even remember that. Huh?”
His pronunciation was slightly off due to his missing front teeth.
They had been broken by Ray during a previous encounter.
“It was exactly 23 days ago. If you’re asking about the time, it wasn’t that long ago.”
“That’s not what I meant!”
Ron boiled with anger.
There wasn’t a single thing about Ray that he liked.
That face, never flinching no matter the situation.
Those emotionless eyes that seemed to see right through people.
Even his breathing and small movements.
Every single thing got on his nerves.
But it didn’t matter.
Soon enough, Ray would be lying on the ground, crying and begging for his life.
‘Back then, it was three. But this time, including me, there are seven.’
He lost last time, but this time was different.
He had brought six of the best fighters in the group.
Ray. The Ghost of Street 17.
Because he moved silently and showed no expression, that nickname was given to him.
He was also famous for being a strong fighter.
But no matter how strong he was, he couldn’t handle seven opponents.
Moreover, his physique was only average for his age.
In contrast, all seven on this side had physiques comparable to adults.
‘I’ll win for sure.’
Without realizing it, the corners of his lips curled upward.
He was planning to avenge his previous defeat and take control of Street 17, where Ray ruled.
With a confident voice, Ron said:
“I won’t say it again. Put the bag down and leave. If you do, we’ll let you go without any injuries.”
It was a lie.
Whether Ray handed over the food or not, they planned to beat him to a pulp and leave him crippled.
“Lies.”
Ron’s eyes flinched.
The reason the kids on the street feared Ray wasn’t just because of his fighting skills.
“They’re lies.”
Lies didn’t work on Ray.
「Don’t meet the Ghost’s eyes. If you do, he’ll know when you’re lying.」
Ray could distinguish between truth and lies just by looking into someone’s eyes.
At first, the kids were skeptical.
But after a few incidents confirmed it, it became an accepted fact.
Lies don’t work on the Ghost.
‘You cocky bastard…!’
Ron gritted his teeth.
Anyone could tell the claim about letting him go was a lie, but Ray had some unknown skill to figure it out.
“Kill him─! Kill him!”
Ron shouted at the top of his lungs, as if trying to shake off his fear.
At that, the boys charged at Ray.
Thud!
Ray dropped his bag to the ground and readied his stance.
The approaching enemies were reflected in his pale eyes, moment by moment.
Buzz──!
Ray lowered his stance.
He felt a club barely miss his back.
Tap!
He pushed off the ground, flinging his body forward and pulling his elbow back.
And then—
Thud!
“Ugh!”
He buried his fist deep into an opponent’s stomach.
Passing the one who collapsed, he saw a knuckle coming straight for him.
“Die!”
Using his halted left foot as a pivot, he spun his body to the right.
Swish!
The knuckle narrowly grazed past his face.
He slammed the outstretched arm with all his might using his right elbow.
Crack!
“Aaargh!”
He kicked the staggering opponent, causing them to tumble into another boy approaching from behind.
The fight was one-sided.
The sound of flesh being struck and bones breaking echoed through the dump.
Exactly five minutes later.
All the boys except Ron were groaning and writhing on the ground.
“……!”
“The numbers don’t change the outcome.”
Ron couldn’t believe the situation.
So, the skills Ray had shown before weren’t everything?
“D-Don’t come closer! Stay away!”
“I warned you. If I saw you again, I’d make sure you’d never walk on two legs.”
Ray slowly closed the distance.
Ron’s lips trembled as he retreated backward.
Thud!
He bumped into something.
Turning around, he saw a scrap heap.
Ron pulled out a folding knife and flicked it open.
“D-Damn it! Don’t come any closer, you monster!”
Ray stopped.
He stared at the knife with a blank expression.
“A monster, huh.”
Perhaps it wasn’t entirely wrong.
Seeing his face distorted and blurred in the reflection of the blade, he thought that.
Maybe he wasn’t all that different from the golem made of stone.
* * *
Ray realized he was different from others when he was ten.
「Why don’t you cry?」
「You got a bad injury from falling. Doesn’t it hurt at all?」
He understood pain.
He knew his blood was pouring out.
But what did that have to do with crying?
「Kale got beaten up. By the kids from Street 7.」
「…And you don’t even feel angry?」
Why would he get angry?
No, before that, what exactly was ‘anger’?
「Sniff. Bello is dead… What are we going to do now?」
「You’re not even shedding a single tear.」
That’s when Ray realized.
He couldn’t feel what others called emotions.
「You’re a little weird. It’s scary.」
The people around him began to leave, and naturally, he was left alone.
He thought blankly.
Am I wrong?
He wanted to be like everyone else.
He tried to feel emotions.
Deep within his chest, he felt something faintly stirring.
「…….」
But he couldn’t tell if it was truly emotion.
He had never felt it before, so there was nothing to compare it to.
One year passed.
Two years passed.
Three years passed.
…And six years passed that way.
His relentless efforts to feel emotions were fruitless.
Maybe this was better.
That thought crossed his mind.
Not feeling emotions was often an advantage in the slums.
For example, not feeling fear in a fight was a huge benefit.
He didn’t need to guess other people’s emotions by watching their reactions.
Because Ray had his own way of reading them.
* * *
“Don’t come closer, you monster!”
Ray was currently focusing on his eyes.
Because of that, he was seeing a world different from others.
A deep crimson red, like blood.
A deep blue, like the ocean.
A vibrant yellow, like forsythia flowers.
And countless other colors.
The world was painted in a kaleidoscope of light.
A scene like an oil painting where various colors of paint swirled together.
Mana, known as the source of magic and the foundation of the world.
Of course, Ray didn’t know the details of such things.
He merely used it as an auxiliary tool for identifying others’ emotions.
Ray looked at Ron’s chest.
There, a dark brown mana flickered and swirled.
Every person had a small vessel within their chest.
Whenever a specific emotion was felt, mana of a certain color would seep into the vessel and linger.
Emotions like anger, hatred, and love were associated with red-colored mana.
Mockery and indifference were associated with blue-colored mana.
Happiness and excitement were associated with yellow-colored mana.
There were few exceptions.
“A knife, huh. Using blades is an unspoken rule. Did you bring it intending to stab me?”
“I-I just found it earlier! I picked it up from the junk!”
A lie.
The color of the mana in the vessel told him as much.
Tap.
“D-Don’t come closer! Stay back! If you don’t want to die!”
Ray, unaffected by the knife pointed at him, stepped closer to Ron.
His gaze remained fixed on Ron’s chest.
The dark black mana swirling violently.
Yes. That was extreme fear.
Ray spoke.
“Liars must be punished.”
—
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