Chapter 309
CHANGE
"What? A little shit like you had the balls to come over here and start ordering me around like I'm your dog? Do you even understand where you are?" The boss snarled, a filthy look gleamed in his eye.
"I'm not ordering you around. I'm making a request and offering payment for your services," Ella replied, determination blazing in her gaze. Her hands were clenched together, but not in fear the way he was used to seeing. There was something firm, and unyeilding in her posture.
The boss kissed his teeth. "Yeah, and that's the problem, you nasty little squirt. A girl like you, still with mama's milk on her lips, thinks she has the right to make requests of me? Go home, girl… unless you're looking to get hurt." A lecherous gleam passed through his single eye as he leaned closer. "Because now that I look at you properly, your mouth doesn't seem to be the only thing with plenty of milk."
Disgust flashed across Ella's face, before her expression smoothed once more. "I'm simply here to hire your services. And I know I can do that for the right price."
"The real question," he chuckled darkly, "is whether you can even afford that price, looking like you do... Perfect face... Perfect figure. Heh… Normally, someone like you would have to pay extra. But there are other ways to settle a debt, you know…"
"Don't disgust me more than you already have," Ella cut in coldly. "I will be paying with money." Her voice was firm,leaving no room for argument.
The boss's expression soured, and a few of the men nearby took steps forward, hooting and hollering at her words, their laughter thick with mockery and threat.
It was hard not to notice that the place itself looked far better than the last time IAM had been here. The old bookcase was gone, the floor and walls had been properly cleaned, and the strange green liquid that had once leaked from the corners was nowhere to be seen. The air no longer carried that same foul, stagnant stench.
Even the goons looked different. Their clothes were cleaner, sturdier, and of noticeably better quality than what was usually seen in Hope's End. The boss himself wore several rings and small pieces of jewelry, items that had clearly been smuggled in from a dealer he knew in the lower sector of Hope.
All of it was the result of his scam on IAM and the others some time ago, combined with the appearance of a mysterious donor. The benefactor hadn't only provided clothes; they had been sending a gold coin regularly to a small charity operating in their section of Hope's End. That money went toward food and clothing for the people there. It wasn't even close enough to renovate the place completely, but it had been enough to make life noticeably better.
Many considered themselves lucky because of it, especially after the horrifying news of the deaths from the Hold. Some of the more superstitious whispered that it was the work of restless souls, pleading with the Seven Heroes for their help before finally moving on.
The more pessimistic ones said it was nothing more than luck—that their settlement simply happened to be the closest to the nearest gate at Hope's End, making it one of the few areas even considered worthy of having a charity in the first place.
There were countless small villages scattered across the southern regions of Hope, an unknown number in total, though estimates placed the population at around sixty-two million people, hidden among the land—some clustered close together, others separated by vast distances.
The farther a settlement was from Hope, the more abhorrent its living conditions became. Their situation could not even be compared to the place where IAM had lived, with the government showing little interest in investing effort or resources into them.
Distance alone made aid nearly impossible. The time, manpower, and supplies required to reach and support every single settlement were overwhelming, and many doubted there were even enough people willing to take on such a task.
And above all else, the farther one was from Hope, the less protection that area had. Those regions were far more exposed to deadline creatures that frequently attacked and slaughtered entire communities. The authorities could not justify sending Ascenders so far out, risking their lives for people who, in the eyes of the system, contributed nothing to society.
This was part of the truth of Hope, the dark side that could be found in any country on Earth. Hope was only truly available to those with means.
And perhaps that was part of the reason Ella was here, standing far outside her comfort zone, facing the biggest gang in the area. Before she could say another word, the boss raised his hand, silencing the others, and snapped harshly, "Are you insane!? Do you really think you can just walk out of here after saying that, huh!?"
Ella swallowed, gathering what little courage she had left. She met his gaze—his single, unblinking eye—and spoke. "Yes… I might be insane. But I'm not stupid. And neither are you." She took a breath, then continued, her voice growing steadier. "Look… look around you. Every day people are dying. Children are starving. Mothers and daughters are forced to sell themselves just to get a piece of bread. Fathers wander the streets, desperate for anything that might help them feed their families. We can't let ourselves be blinded by this small bit of charity. It's not enough. It's not nearly enough. Things need to change. They have to."
Her fists clenched at her sides. "I'm sick and tired of seeing this much suffering. Is this really how you want to die? Like this? You want things to change too… don't you?"
The boss fell silent for a few seconds before speaking again. "What makes you think you can change anything? You're nothing but a little girl in Hope's ass. You're just dust—dust in the wind, meaningless to everything. What can you possibly do to change the way things are? This is nothing but a pipe dream. Forget it and go back to your little restaurant. Live out your days there. There's nothing for you here…"
"No."
She looked at him, passion burning in her eyes. "For the longest time, that's exactly what I did. I tried to ignore it. To forget this desire for change inside me. I told myself there was no hope. But… how will I ever know if I don't try?" Her voice wavered, but she didn't look away. "Please… I'm begging you. Help me. I… I don't want to die with regrets."
A stunned silence followed her words. The room was still, heavy with tension. Many of those present understood what she meant, felt the truth in it—yet at the same time, they also knew how impossible real change seemed to be.
The boss studied her in silence, his single eye clear as it searched her face, as if he were waiting for something... He lingered on that firm expression, unyielding despite everything.
Then, suddenly, he burst into a harsh cackle before cutting it off. "Now that I've taken a closer look at you… you're pretty ugly. Your eyes are red and puffy, and I don't like that look of defiance. Tsk, tsk… not submissive at all." He waved a hand dismissively. "Fine. I'll have someone fetch those books for you. But don't expect miracles. I can't guarantee anything."
Relief finally broke through Ella's composure. A faint smile spread across her face, and a few tears slipped free, falling onto the floor.
The boss glanced at her and snorted. "If you really want to change something, then stop crying. It makes you look weak."
Ella quickly wiped her face, her voice coming out muffled. "Yes… yes."
"Now get out of here," he growled. "I'll contact you when I have them."
She looked at him in surprise. "But… I haven't paid yet."
He grunted. "Don't worry about it. You already have. Now go."
She gave him a small, grateful smile, and as she turned to leave, her final words drifted back to him. "And maybe… you're not as disgusting as you look either."
A vein throbbed on his forehead as he watched her go, silently wondering whether he had just made the right decision.
The man who had always given IAM a stern look when he first came here stood beside the boss and commented, "Now that I think about it… she must be around the same age your daughter was, huh…"
The boss went quiet, his mind briefly drifting to the person who would never return home to give him a hug. He let out a deep, tired sigh. "I must be getting old… letting people insult me and get away with it. If this were my younger glory days…"
The stern-faced man studied him for a moment before speaking again. "You know…"
"What?"
"You really need to get an eyepatch or something. It's a miracle you haven't gotten an infection yet."
"Huh!? What are you talking about? This is a stylish choice! I don't need your shitty opinion!"
The other man just stared, unamused. "…"