At 8:20 a.m., the sleepy police station of Gyushee felt like it always diddusty sunlight through grimy windows, the low hum of an old ceiling fan, and the quiet authority of Captain Thet Naung, a man whose presence filled the room long before his voice ever did.
He sat alone with his morning coffee, a ritual he never rushed. Thick brows, tired eyes that had seen too much, and the calm demeanor of someone who had spent years standing between order and chaosthis was a man the entire town trusted instinctively.
The door slammed open.
"Captain!"
"An officer stumbled in, panting.
A major brawl on Street Eighteenright now!"
The captain didnt flinch, didnt even blink. He set his coffee down with the quiet precision of a man who controlled storms by choosing when to breathe.
Then he stood.
In an instant, the station snapped to life.
Officers scrambled behind him, boots thundering across the floor as he led the charge. No shouting. No panic. Just the controlled momentum of a commander who expected to be followed.
They reached Street Eighteen within minutes.
And there it was.
A ring of nearly twenty men, fists flying, feet stomping, rage thick in the air. In the centerone young man, bloodied and outnumbered, barely holding himself upright.
For a moment, the captains jaw tightened.
Not out of fear.
Out of disappointmentbecause chaos like this always meant he hadnt worked hard enough to keep the towns monsters asleep.
He stepped forward, raised his sidearm, and fired a single warning shot into the sky.
The sound cracked through the street like thunder.
The fighting stopped instantly.
Heads turned.
And the crowd parted the way crowds always did when Captain Thet Naung arrivedswiftly, silently, and with the uneasy respect owed to a man who never needed to shout to be obeyed.
The moment the brawl was broken apart, the officers moved in with practiced efficiency. The captain watched in silence as they surrounded the lone young man who had been beaten moments earlier. Dust hung in the air, settling slowly over the aftermath.
One of the officers stepped forward.
"Name?"
The young man lifted his head.
"Henery Regent."
Another officer flipped open a small notebook.
"Tell us how this fight started."
Regent replied,
"I was just having my breakfast, he said, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.
Sitting alone. Quiet. Minding my own business"
His gaze hardened as he remembered.
"Then one of themsome idiot among their groupcame at me with a knife. No warning."
"I defended myself. What else could I do?"
The officers exchanged looks.
Regent continued, voice low but unwavering.
After that, the rest of them jumped in. Surrounded me. Tried to finish what he started.
His words hung in the air, sharp and heavy, as the captain stepped closerstudying the boy not as a victim or suspect, but as someone whose story had only just begun.
After questioning the young man, the officers turned toward the shop owner, hoping to confirm Regents story.
"So its true?"
"Someone from that crowd really tried to stab the boy first?"
one of them asked.
The shop owner nodded immediately.
Everything he said is true, he replied.
"I saw the knife myself."
But he didnt stop there.
The man leaned in, lowering his voice as if sharing something dangerous.
"That boy he's not ordinary.
I watched him throw a man like he weighed nothing like a rag doll.
He shook his head, still rattled.
And I've never seen him in this town before. He must be from somewhere else."
The officers exchanged uneasy looks. Something about the story didnt sit rightbut the details matched what theyd witnessed: Regent had stood against a crowd of twenty and hadnt so much as staggered.
They brought their report to the captain.
The captain read silently, eyes scanning every line before closing the file with a soft click.
"Release him."
One of the younger officers blinked.
"Sir? Are you sure?"
"He defended himself. That's all."
The officer hesitated, frowning.
But Captain that kid isnt normal.
He could be dangerous.
The captain looked up, expression calm and absolute.
If he truly meant harm, he wouldnt be sitting in this station. He wouldve taken us apart long before we ever got close.
He gestured toward the door.
Let him go.
A moment later, the officers returned to Regent.
"You're free to leave."
Regent stepped outside into the morning light.
He drew in a slow breath of the cool air, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.
"Didn't think Id have to go this far today "
he muttered under his breath.
Then he turned left, hands in his pockets, and walked down the quiet streetleaving more questions behind him than answers.
As Regent walked alone the left side of the road,he came upon a small fruit stall.Feeling a slightly hunger,he decided to buy an apple to eat.But as he approached the stall,he noticed someone nearby-clothes rubbed,hands sneaking toward the food-trying to steal
Seeing this,the teenager thought to himself,
"Those kids in the East are tully fortunate and yet,with everything they have,they complain endlessly
about how unlucky they are"
Shaking the thought away,he continued toward the stall to buy his apple.
When he reached the front,he saw that the shopkeeper was an elderly woman.
"Grandma,may i have an apple?"
He asked.
The woman replied
"It's two dagars for one,deer"
The teenager blinked in surprise
"That's expensive
In the East,two dagars can get nealy twenty apples,
But here it only buys one," he thought
Still,he handed over the two coins and exchange them for the single apple.
After the teenager boy brought the apple,the faint clinking of iron reached his ears.
He turned to looked-and there down by the harbor,he saw people being led off a ship in chains.
Their clothes were tattered,their wrists bound with harsh iron cufts,and their face were covered in wounds.The boy saw it all with his own eyes.
Shaken,he turned back toward the shop and asked the elderly shopkeeper
"Grandma... aren't those Uatahsha
people?"
The old lady gave a slow nod.
"It seems so.In this province,Utahsha slave trade is the most widespread of all"
"Even if you added the slaves from other tribes,their number wouldn't even come close to the Utahsha's"
The boy glanced again at the suffering captives and thought to himself,
"There are... so many"
"The Reaper once taught me about them"
"They said that the Yutarsha are borned with the powers of nature"
"How did they ended like this"
With those thoughts lingering in his mind,he continue down the road towars his destination.
As the teenager walked on,munching an apple following the path ahead,a sudden thought flickered his mind when he saw the homeless people along with the roadside.
"I've never come across anything quite like this before"
"In the East,people in this conditions are rare"
"And even when they are there,there's always come place for them-a corner to sleep,a spot to eat"
"But the west... it worse than i thought"
Lost in his thoughts, he collided with a teenage girl.
She was a slave—one of the Utahsha.
He did not falter.
His body remained steady, unmoved. The girl, however, collapsed onto the ground.
He glanced down at her. She lay there, helpless, clearly in need of assistance. He felt nothing—no concern, no hesitation. The thought passed through his mind without weight or conflict.
"This is not my matter"
He turned away.
Without guilt or curiosity, he continued down his path, leaving the girl where she had fallen, as if she had never existed.
He walked alone along the dusty road, letting the quiet settle around him, when a dimly lit beer shop came into view.
Something about the place felt worn and tired, but he pushed the door open anyway and stepped inside.
The shop was ordinary enougha few rickety tables, the faint smell of stale alcoholbut the air carried a heaviness he couldnt quite place.
He approached the counter.
"A glass of beer"
he said.
"Thatll be twenty dagars",
the shopkeeper replied without looking up.
Regent handed over the money, and the shopkeeper filled a glass, the amber liquid foaming at the top. As he lifted it for a sip, voices from a nearby table drifted toward himlow, uneasy murmurs.
"They say people have been disappearing in the forest southeast of town
Anyone who goes in never comes out."
"A farmer swears he hears howling out there at night. Something not human."
He turned to the shopkeeper.
"Uncle is it true that people really disappearing in the southeastern woods?"
The shopkeeper finally looked up.and said
"Too true."
"Some of my friends crossed through that forest once."
"They heard screamsdeep, twisted things that didnt sound like they came from any creature we know." And they found tracks
He paused, as if the memory itself unsettled him.
Footprints shaped like something between a deers and a wild boars. But too large"
The boy drained the rest of his beer, the bitter taste clinging to his tongue. He paid quietly and stepped outside of the shop.