--------------- Carla's Point of View ---------
The air in the reception area had become dense, thick as smoke. The low murmur of the refugee crowd, which until now had been a background hum, was transforming. It was no longer the sound of fear; it was the sound of anger. And that anger had an orchestra conductor: Mayor Aníbal.
[I'll ask one more time, Wiston. What is the meaning of this?] — he said, his voice coated in false concern, as he pointed not at my grandfather, but at us; at the two small goblins cowering behind my legs, on guard with a low growl, their hands gripping their weapons.
I saw how the mayor's venom worked. He didn't need to give orders, just plant a seed. His words were permission for the people's pain to find a target.
A woman pushed her way to the front of the crowd. Her eyes were sunken, empty, but they burned with a feverish light.
[My son…] —she began, her voice broken—. [My son died fighting those… things. And you… you're protecting them? Giving them our food? Our shelter?]
[Ma'am, the situation is more complex] —Flora tried to say, her tone unyielding and professional.
[There's nothing complex!] —a man shouted from behind her—. [They're monsters! They killed my wife and my youngest son! And you have them here, even feeding them food while we skip meals because of rationing!]
The shout broke the restraint. The murmur turned into a roar. The crowd surged, a single body moved by a single pain. I saw the panic on Jennifer's and Sophie's faces, who instinctively joined me, forming a human barrier in front of the goblins. Ana, behind us, clung to the goblins who seemed to want to jump into the fray, moved by a survival instinct.
[Please, listen to me and calm down] -Ana whispered.
[""Griiiirrrrrr.""]
Perhaps from understanding her, the goblins calmed their impulse, but they still kept emitting a low growl.
My grandfather took a step forward, his voice a thunderclap trying to impose itself over the chaos.
[Maintain order!]
As expected, the crowd wavered before his authority. But it wasn't enough.
The echo of their losses was too deep. The situation continued to deteriorate with every second.
If it were any criminal or a problematic person like Aníbal, my grandfather wouldn't hesitate to kick them out, but in this situation, even he hesitated.
These were good people, grieving after innumerable losses; people who had let their pain make them manipulable.
I saw Aníbal, standing off to the side, with an expression of grim satisfaction. He had successfully lit the fuse.
The police officers formed a line. They didn't draw their weapons, but their faces were stone. They weren't security guards dealing with civilians; they were police officers facing the very people they had tried so hard to protect. Their bodies were tense, ready for impact.
Every second that passed made everything worse. Any progress was quickly cut short by a few inciting words from Aníbal.
His eyes were fixed on us with a morbid satisfaction.
Finally, the woman with the feverish eyes didn't stop. Her pain was so great it had consumed her fear. She lunged at us, her hands like claws.
[Give me those monsters!]
Sophie's father, Jhon, intercepted her. He didn't do it gently. He pushed her back with a restrained but brutal force; a movement trained to neutralize a threat, not to comfort a grieving mother.
The woman fell to the ground.
And the room exploded.
[How dare you use force on honest citizens to protect monsters?] – the mayor didn't miss the opportunity, and his words were the final spark.
The roar of the crowd turned into a scream of pure fury. The people looked ready to charge forward, a tide of bodies driven by days of trauma, hunger, and desperation.
I could see Aníbal's smile widen as my grandfather's hand moved discreetly toward his waist.
[Are you going to shoot us over some monsters? Huh? Are you?] - the man who had lost his wife and youngest son stepped forward again, holding a metal bar in his hand. Next to him, a young man who looked to be my age, possibly his other son.
Faced with the desperate gazes of the father and son, my grandfather hesitated.
[Give us those things. Give them to us now.]
[These creatures are not the same ones that have been besieging us. Killing them won't solve anything, and it won't bring your family back.]
[I DON'T CARE! HAND THEM OVER, SHUT UP AND HAND THEM OVER!] – he shouted, already desperate, waving the metal bar randomly.
His son was just as terrified and, of course, the people behind them began to advance slowly with them, as if trying to gauge if my grandfather and his men would really use force on them.
After all, that's how people are. They love to act brave in front of uniforms, taking the opportunity to show courage against those who must respect the law; a courage they would never show against a real assailant.
But it's not that simple. This isn't just a skirmish. My grandfather will definitely not prioritize these crazed people over his men and me.
And then I saw it: my grandfather's tense hand moving back to his weapon.
The people saw it as a bluff, still testing the waters to advance, but those of us who know him understood.
Even that bastard Anícal had already taken out his phone and started recording. It was a trap.
But before I could even say anything…
["Tsk"] - A click of the tongue echoed with frightful clarity in the midst of the noise, so unnatural and inappropriate for the situation that the room froze.
Instantly, the atmosphere changed.
That aggressive impulse, charged with anger and disorder, was swallowed by the suffocating sensation of being watched by a predator.
It left most momentarily confused.
Of course, not me. Not my friends.
Because no one who had experienced firsthand seeing him reach that level of irritation could ever mistake it.
[[[[…]]]]
As if in slow motion, our gazes wandered in search of the source of the sound.
It was only when some of the officers stepped aside that we could all see him clearly.
Next to Yumi, who was now looking at him with a tense expression, Astrad observed the crowd with manifest contempt in his eyes.
Yes, there was nothing remotely resembling a hero in him. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes seemed to scream that he was about to kill someone.
[[[[…]]]]
As Astrad began to advance without a word, the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Yumi raised her hand, perhaps wanting to ask him to calm down a bit, but finally lowered it with a tense sigh.
The police officers were no better. They were men who lived with daily danger; feeling the abnormal atmosphere and knowing Astrad's history was enough to make them get out of his way.
Whether they would lose against a teenager didn't matter. The golden rule for someone who lives with their life on the line is to avoid trouble as much as possible.
And, of course, the civilians immediately understood that something was wrong.
Before they knew it, they had begun to back away from Astrad's advance.
[Y… Brat, who are you… kuagggggg?] – the man who had taken the lead tried to confront him, but before he even finished speaking, a kick connected with his stomach, sending him staggering back several steps as he dropped the metal bar.
At the sudden events, the people in the mob recoiled urgently.
[D-Dad!] – shouted the boy, who also dropped his improvised weapon as he rushed towards his father.
But as he tried to crouch down to help him…
[KUAAAAGGGG!] - He screams in pain as Astrad kicks him in the face, forcing him back abruptly and onto the ground.
[YERRI!] – shouted the father, desperate, reaching a hand toward his son who was now writhing in pain, only to be kicked in the face again by Astrad.
[AHHHH, HAAAAAA, AAAAA!] – Father and son screamed on the ground, writhing in pain as they clutched their faces, in front of the terrified gazes of everyone.
[Annoying] - Astrad finally spoke. His single word held no sarcasm or mockery, just sharp contempt as he delivered another kick to the downed man, this time in his stomach.
[Stop, stop, please, stop… Who are you? Why are you doing this?]
Gritting his teeth, the man finally cried between coughs and sobs. Blood was still trickling from his mouth, while his son crawled away, never taking his eyes off him.
[Because I want to.] – Astrad replied indifferently as he gave another kick to the incredulous man.
[And because I can.] – he continued, each phrase a new kick.
His logic was so bland it couldn't even be refuted.
[Th-that doesn't make sense… kug] -the man tried to argue, only to be kicked again.
[Ahhh? What doesn't make sense? Wasn't that your train of thought when you tried to kill the rat kid's goblins? Ahhh? Weren't you ganging up with your little friends, trying to get your way and do what you wanted because you could? Ahhh? You can do it, but the rat kid can't? Is that what you want to tell the rat kid? Ahhhh?]
Astrad's questions fell like rain. Each one was accompanied by a new kick that landed on the defenseless man, while everyone could only watch, terrified.
[It's, it's different. THEY'RE MONSTERS!] – he shouted, on the verge of tears.
[WELL, TO ME, YOU'RE A MONSTROSITY!] – Astrad shouted louder, his foot stamping on the man's chest, forcing him against the ground with no sign of letting up.
[My wife, my son… I just want to avenge them. They, they…]
The man struggled as best he could, his tears falling with resentment.
[Did they kill them?]
For the first time, Astrad's question seemed to have a minimum of sense.
To the point that some glimmer returned to the man's eyes as he spoke.
[It was them, monsters like them. If it weren't for them…] – he spoke as he pointed towards us, his tone like someone who seemed to have clung to a pardon.
But I could only sigh inwardly, because Astrad is the type of person who only speaks to you with logic when he's really pissed off.
[Even if the goblins didn't exist, your wife and children would still be dead.]
The man's finger froze in the air as Astrad's cold words resonated in the room, which had been enveloped in a sepulchral silence.
[Even if you could go back in time, your wife and son would still die.]
He continued, his voice dropping lower and lower, until it became a whisper that chilled you to the bone, capable of pressing on your chest.
[Even if you went back to that past fully armed, your wife and children would still die.]
As Astrad spoke, you could see how he slowly increased the pressure of his foot on the man's chest.
But instead of screaming in pain, the man slowly turned his gaze to Astrad, his face growing paler with every word.
[The rat kid has seen countless pieces of trash like you. Fucking sissies who tremble in fear in front of anyone slightly stronger than them, bowing their heads and enduring humiliation, only to unleash that frustration on anyone weaker than them. After all, what else can he do? He's just a cowardly fucking sissy son of a bitch.]
Astrad's words made not only the man shudder, but almost everyone present.
The memories of our first and second year came back to me like a tide. The memories of the boy who hates hypocrisy above all else. Of the boy who preferred solitude rather than giving up his justice for a hypocritical system.
[You say you want to kill these goblins to avenge your wife? Kekeke, don't make me laugh. You just want to satisfy your pathetic morbid pleasure, unleashing your anger on those weaker than you.]
Astrad continued to speak, his words loaded with contempt as the man could only stammer before his eyes, without uttering a single coherent word.
[They didn't kill your wife and son. Your wife and son died because you're a pathetic, cowardly sissy who chose to run and hide rather than protect his family.]
The man's lips opened and closed before Astrad's gaze.
[Kekeke, but, you know? The rat kid is a considerate rat kid. I think I'll give you a chance.]
He said, removing his foot from the man's chest. He then took a few steps to the side and picked up the metal bar, which he then tossed gently next to him.
[The rat kid proposes something to you: hit me with that. If you manage to beat me, the goblins are yours to do with as you please,] —he said, approaching the stunned man again.
[What's wrong? Not getting up? Or, I know, do you need more of an advantage? How about this? The rat kid promises not to defend himself, how does that sound? Besides, I'll put myself within your reach, look.]
The man trembled like jelly, even as Astrad put the bar in his hand and closed his fist around it, even as he got close enough, carelessly.
Every action and word from Astrad, far from motivating him, made him tremble with more fear.
[WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR, YOU SON OF A BITCH? A DAMN INVITATION? DO YOU THINK I HAVE YOUR WHOLE DAMN DAY?]
Finally, Astrad lost patience and yelled at him as he climbed onto the man's chest.
With one hand, he grabbed his shirt, and the other he closed into a fist.
[Don't you see I'm not defending myself? Why don't you attack? Huh? Weren't you going to avenge your beloved family? You sissy son of a bitch!]
Just like before, one question, one punch.
[Where's the courage? Where's the avenging father? Why did you drop the bar? Do I have to tape it to you? Huhhh? You son of a bitch, why don't you answer the rat kid? Can't you talk? Weren't you screaming at the top of your lungs before? Huh? Why are you crying? Does crying bring people back to life? Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?]
I don't know how much time passed, or how many curses were said.
In my eyes, only Astrad's ruthless smile and his face, stained with the man's blood, registered.
In that laugh, there was no pleasure, only disdain, indignation, and anger.
Finally, the man couldn't take it anymore and passed out.
Only then did Astrad stop. He calmly stood up, lifted the unconscious man, and threw him at his son, who was still sobbing on the floor.
[Hey, you morons,] –he said, for the first time, looking at the rest of the civilians and the mayor, who had forgotten how to breathe.
[The goblins are untouchable, because I say so. And what I say, goes. Because I'm stronger than you, smarter than you, better than you.]
He spoke, each word an order with no possibility of reply; just the blunt declaration of the law of the strongest.
[And now, get out of my sight. Anyone I see when I count to five… I'm going to kill you all.]
Before he could even begin to count, the people ran out of the room as fast as they could.