Rebirth of the Undead King: Book 1

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Rebirth of the Undead King: Book 1 Page 8

by Ink Bamboo


  However, when the girl tried using her weight to throw Amro onto the ground, she felt an immovable wall. Before she could process what was happening, she felt Amro’s hand grabbing her shoulder, pushing her aside with ease.

  “This is my last warning,” said Amro. “Children should listen to their elders.”

  “Look who's talking,” replied the girl’s brother, darting towards his target.

  Amro frowned. Even if his host was only thirteen years of age, he himself was immeasurably old. Being looked down upon by mere teenagers sparked a slight fire of indignation inside his soul. His feelings caused his next move to be slightly less merciful.

  Sidestepping the brother’s tackle, Amro kicked the boy’s stomach. It effectively made the other kneel onto the ground, puking the bare excuse for a meal he had earlier that day.

  This made the teen’s sister frown as she tried to stand up from the side. However, her legs gave away before she managed to do so. Slum-dwellers like her lacked training, but they all had very sharp instincts. She could tell the boy before her was far beyond their league.

  "Look, kid, we get it. We won't mess with you anymore, just leave this part of town," she said, attempting to negotiate while she got closer to her brother.

  “That’s right,” said the other teenager, barely managing to stand up. It was clear he was still wiping the remaining vomit from his lips. “You better leave before our boss comes and hunts you down.”

  “Interesting,” said Amro, taking both brother and sister by surprise.

  He was now smiling at the opportunity that he was presented. Even the boss of a small organization was likely to have enough resources for what he had planned. Their fortune was about to become a catalyst for Zaros’s advancement.

  I guess it’s worth looking into it.

  With that in mind, Amro took two steps forward, inching closer to both brother and sister. Before they realized it, Amro’s arm was wrapped around their necks in a not-so-friendly embrace. A vicious smile was displayed on his face, revealing he was up to no good.

  “Take me to him,” he said, looking at the stupefied teenagers. “I want to meet your boss.”

  Chapter 09

  To recruit or to be recruited?

  Cold. It was a sensation those of the slums were used to. Both a lack of home and a lack of meals were contributing factors to their familiarity with it. Thus, it was an inseparable part of their daily lives. Unavoidable, just like the sun’s departure every night.

  However, there was another type of cold those of the slums were used to. This one much darker and gruesome. It was the chill that came from being stared down by a predator. The evolutionary sense of fear ingrained into their instincts.

  Two teenagers were now growing familiar to this feeling. Their gut telling them to run away. Alas, it was now too late. They had a chance to reject his request, to escape on their own, but they had wasted it. They had given in to the cold stare and vicious smile of that boy.

  Without any other choice, they guided him to their hideout, reasoning to themselves that a rejection to his request would have been worse. Both brother and sister glanced at each other from time to time, confirming their mind wasn’t playing tricks on them. It was unfortunate. Thoughts of running away crossed their minds, but the fear of being chased down made them discard such a notion.

  On the other hand, Amro ignored the anxiety contained in his guides’ eyes. He wasn’t worried by anything they might try to do. Completely relaxed, he stretched as they crossed several alleyways and went through different junctures. Using the opportunity that had so nicely presented itself, Amro took the time to memorize the town’s layout with ease.

  Many gazes landed on the party of three, judging their every move. Yet once they recognized the brother and sister duo, those eyes quickly looked aside. Hoodlums knew each other, and the two leading Amro had a small reputation of their own.

  What caught most of the onlookers’ attention, however, was the unfamiliar youth accompanying them. It was clear as crystal that he was not from this side of town.

  After walking for some time, they arrived at a rather torn-down brick building. The earthen colors and grime stuck to the edifice made it look like the place had been abandoned for years. The ruckus coming from the inside, however, made it clear that this wasn’t the case.

  Yet, even if the building looked vandalized, further scrutiny would reveal that it was still structurally sound. A place like this was likely to be a base of operations for those working inside the underworld. Aside from being hidden in plain sight, the sturdy building could probably hold for a while even if it was being besieged by invaders.

  The party of three stopped at the door of the building as two burly men extended their hands to block their way. Amro raised an eyebrow at this, but the sister-brother duo him didn’t seem to find it unusual.

  “Alexander, you do not seem to be carrying tonight’s quota. Under what pretense do you expect us to let you enter tonight?” questioned one of the two men guarding the entrance.

  Alexander, the tall youth guiding Amro, scratched his head. As a member of the gang, it was expected for him to give a certain amount of tributes every week in exchange for their protection. After all, many of his former victims would come after him for retribution if he didn’t.

  Unfortunately for him, he was still short of reaching his quota. Not even his attempt to rob Zaros had proven successful. No, it had placed him in more trouble instead.

  “I know, I know. I’ll be sure to make it up to you tomorrow,” he said, trying to talk his way out of his precarious situation.

  The guard frowned, unwilling to buy the teenager’s act. He had heard that excuse way too many times already. He was far too numb to the logic employed by this youth.

  Sensing his displeasure, Alexander continued. “Hey, come on now, you wouldn’t want to ruin our gang’s reputation, right? This little brother over here wants to join us. It would be a shame if he missed this chance because of your stubbornness.”

  Amro’s brow rose. When did he tell this youth he was planning to join them? How did this misunderstanding take place?

  Hearing Alexander’s words, the two men guarding the door looked at Amro. All they could see was a disheveled youth, no better than the two beside him. The two of them exchanged glances for a moment before reaching an agreement.

  “He can come in, but whether he comes out will depend on his capabilities. You know the boss hates losing time on people without talent,” the second guard said. “It makes me wonder what he saw in you two.”

  Both guards laughed as they made way for the party of three. Even if the slums were a dark and shady place, occasional scenes of camaraderie like this would sprout from the gloom every now and then. Whether such camaraderie remained during hardships was a different question altogether.

  Amro had a calm look on his face as the three of them entered the building. If not for his unfamiliar face, no outsider would have been able to guess that he was a newcomer to the gang. Their steps echoed in the air as they made their way upstairs, occasionally attracting one or two gazes from the people inside.

  As Amro and his new acquaintances drew closer to the next floor, Alexander decided to offer some words of advice. Not because he cared for him, but out of worry for himself and his sister. If their boss judged Amro to be unfit for the gang, the consequences might affect them as well.

  “The boss is a very scary man, please do your best to show your worth to him. It should be fine as long as you are able to move like you did back there,” he said. “In any case, I’m sorry for that. I hope you don’t hold a grudge against us.”

  Amro didn’t answer. The kid guiding him still seemed to think he was here to join them. The idea was ludicrous, for Amro had his own plans. A gang of this size was too small to satisfy his needs. Serving his host, however, looked like a reasonable future for them.

  When they reached the last floor, they were greeted by a huge room that resembled a clandest
ine bar. People sat around shabby-looking tables, some drinking their frustrations out while others bragged about their so-called accomplishments.

  A small fighting ring made of wood scraps and old clothes was in the center of the room. Inside it, two children were biting and gnawing at each other. Both of them were bleeding profusely as they acted without regard for the other’s safety.

  Alexander brought Amro to the table closest to the fighting ring. Sitting with a full view of the fight was a man receiving everyone’s attention. His hair was a flaxen color tinted with a silver sheen while his skin had the color of freshly harvested wheat. He looked rather approachable if not for the devious smile that was plastered on his face.

  The man was too busy with his drinking buddies to take notice of Amro and Alexander’s arrival. Under the influence of alcohol and perhaps something else, he kept bragging to the rest of the table about how he had extorted money from the guards that day.

  “And then I told them it was their turn to pay me some taxes,” he said. “You should have seen their faces. They couldn’t even find the courage to reject my request.”

  Everyone around him laughed in a forceful attempt to please the man’s ego. They kept doing so until the man looked to his side and saw the party of three, giving the rest of them a moment to break out of their charade.

  “Oh, Alexander, child, what is it this time? Do you need more time to pay this month’s quota again?” The amiability in the man’s voice was forced enough that even the dumbest of hoodlums would be able to understand the power dynamic between him and Alexander.

  The lanky teenager thought of saying something, but his fear got the best of him. The only thing he managed to voice was a small complaint, too quiet to even cause an impression.

  Disregarding the words mumbled by the youth, the gang’s leader turned back to look at the youth’s sister. As he lustfully stared at her body, he noticed some scratch wounds on her arms. He then swept his gaze to Amro, coming to a series of conclusions.

  “Sir, I’ve brought this younger brother. He has expressed his interest in joining us,” said Alexander, noticing the unfriendly gaze his boss gave Amro.

  “Oh, that is quite the news. You know we welcome anyone willing to join us. Have you explained the rules to him yet?” asked the gang’s leader.

  Alexander shook his head while his sister smirked at the reminder.

  “How come? Did something happen between you three?” asked the man rather mischievously. By taking a quick glance at their faces, he could figure out the story weaved between them, as well as why the two siblings didn’t tell the newcomer what joining their gang required.

  Alexander’s face paled. The friendly tone his boss used was nothing but a facade. One he liked to use in order to play with his subordinates’ minds. Since that was the case, his best option was to remain quiet displaying a fake smile.

  “Doesn’t matter, I’ll tell him myself then,” said the gang’s leader as he turned to look at Amro.

  “Look, boy, anyone who wants to join us has to endure the challenges of anyone in the gang openly. Only if you survive every challenger, will you earn the right to join our ranks. Well, if you’re brave enough, you can also use this as a chance to advance in our ranks, as you will get the position of anyone you manage to beat. You could even try challenging me if you’re feeling lucky.”

  Amro smiled. This was a convenient system where the strong could quickly earn their rightful place. It just happened to make everything that much easier for him. “I like your conditions, I think they suit the nature of this side of the slums pretty well.”

  The shady leader smiled ear to ear. It was always an interesting show whenever newcomers took up his challenge. Even if he didn’t manage to find a suitable seed worth taking under his wing, he could always let those under him vent their frustrations for a while.

  “Good, good,” said the flaxen haired man. His vicious smile widened as he stood up and extended his hand towards Amro. “That’s the way men are supposed to be. Courageous and daring enough to face all dangers without even thinking it twice. Everyone here knows me as Slyfox, what name should I call you by?”

  Amro smiled, extending his hand to meet Slyfox’s. “My name is Zaros.” For now, he would borrow the name of his sleeping host. After all, it was him who would have to deal with these people in the future.

  “Good name! A manly name indeed! Step up onto the ring, child, please give us a good show,” instructed Slyfox, the smile on his face growing wider as he softly pushed Amro into the ring.

  Alexander and his sister could only shiver when they remembered their own initiations. Back then, they were beaten to a pulp by several of the gang’s members. Even their cries for mercy were ignored during the execution of this grim tradition.

  Only after a long, torturous beating did both of their suffering come to a stop. In the end, the two of them had been accepted based on their tenacity to take a beating. Given a chance, they would have taken another path. Alas, joining a gang was the only choice they had left back then.

  That being said, both Alexander and his sister wished to see the same happen to the young boy they had just met. They considered this their chance to vent the grudges that were formed earlier that night.

  Almost like he was capable of reading their thoughts, Amro turned to look at the pair of teenagers, giving them an innocent smile. His nonchalant attitude caused a chill to creep down both of their backs. How was he so able to remain so calm?

  Turning back, Amro continued walking towards the ring. While he did that, the two unconscious and beaten up children from before were being removed from the stage.

  With a swift leap, the former God of Death entered the fighting stage. He took a look around, evaluating what his surroundings were like. Despite being made rather crudely, the ring he was standing on could probably withstand the usual power of several unranked fighters. It seemed these hoodlums had paid a great amount of effort to acquire something like this.

  Seeing the smooth moves of this new candidate caused a smile to appear on Slyfox’s face. At the very least, the newcomer seemed to have some talent. This was a cause for joy for him because of several reasons.

  Those with talent usually had enough pride to match it. Eventually, that pride needed to be beaten out of their bones. That’s where this initiation test came to play; over the years, it had proven to be a great way to make even the toughest of criminals submit to other people’s superiority.

  Slyfox turned to look to his officers. Any one of them would surely be enough to deal with the kid planning to join their ranks. The gap in skill brought by age and experience would guarantee a significant difference in their strength. With an advantage like this, he could start breaking away the boy’s spirit, taming him into a loyal subordinate before he grew further.

  “Rat! You go in,” he instructed.

  A burly man with several scars on his arms stood up and stepped into the ring without hesitation. Amongst Slyfox’s men, he was a particularly sadistic folk who enjoyed the process of beating recruits into submission. When he looked at Amro, he couldn’t help but break into a cruel smile.

  Amro waited for ‘Rat’ to be done examining him with his eyes. Before long, the burly thug started taunting him into making the first move.

  “Come on boy, let me have a taste of your courage.”

  Rat enjoyed seeing the despair on the faces of the new recruits as they realized the difference in their power. Giving them the initiative was just a way to bring that situation to fruition. His taunts grew increasingly humiliating until Amro started walking in his direction.

  Alexander and his sister had a bad premonition. This was exactly the same attitude Amro had moments before knocking them down. Each step he took looked full of confidence as if there wasn’t a single doubt about his victory.

  Amro was happy to entertain these hoodlums. The fight with the mercenaries hadn’t been enough for him to get a handle of this body’s limitations and he sti
ll wanted to try a few other things. He kept approaching Rat calmly even as the man taunted him with his own brand of creative and obscene gestures.

  Slyfox frowned. The rookie’s nonchalance made it obvious just how arrogant the boy was. He might need to beat him to near-death if he kept the act up. Pride was of no use in an underling. Tilting to his side, he whispered to another one of his subordinates, “Make sure to step in before he dies. You know rat has a problem stopping himself.”

  Everyone’s gaze had landed on Amro’s calm, rhythmic steps as he walked closer to Rat. The way he moved seemed ordinary, yet there was still something unique about it, something everyone found hard to pinpoint. Before they realized it, Amro was already in front of Rat, holding the wrist of the hand he’d used to taunt him only moments ago.

  *Crack.*

  The next thing everyone heard was the sound of bones being fractured. It took a couple of seconds for even Rat’s brain to process what had just happened. The moment he did, he screamed in both anger and pain, using his other hand to throw a punch at Amro.

  “Die!”

  Amro bent his knees, lowering his center of gravity to easily dodge the inbound fist. Before the observers could make sense of the situation, he had already used his momentum to bounce back up, sweeping Rat off his feet. The sudden loss of balance was enough for the hoodlum to fall to the ground. With a light step onto Rat’s ankle, another scream soon filled the room.

  The crowd stared in silent disbelief. Even if Rat was still an unranked individual, he was considered someone experienced in dogfights. How could a simple child knock him down?

  Even Slyfox’s eyes shone in surprise. At this time, he knew he had found a rough gem. The desire to make this child his subordinate, one way or another, surfaced in his mind.

  Amro, however, had different plans. “That was far too boring. Does anyone else dare to make it more entertaining for me?”

 

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