"Yo." Alex had just stepped into the courtyard when he heard a mocking laugh full of malice. He paid it no mind and walked straight ahead.
The owner of the voice clicked his tongue and slid over to block Alex's path directly.
He was very tall, muscles rippling under filthy clothes, completely blocking the way.
Alex looked up, his pitch-black eyes as still as a dead lake, staring at the person in front of him.
"Move, you are blocking the way."
The old, tattered scarf covered part of his face, making his usually serious tone sound lacking in confidence. Added to the fatigue of a long day, his words sounded even weaker.
The person blocking the way clearly had no intention of moving. He reached out his hand; Alex tried to dodge but wasn't fast enough, and his scarf was grabbed.
He yanked on Alex's scarf, his body emitting waves of a pungent deathly smell mixed with the sour odor of sweat.
"Wearing this bad luck thing all day long. This was stripped off a dead person, right? I bet you even steal dead people's underwear to wear."
Alex raised his head. The lower part of his face hidden behind the scarf was revealed; although the teenager's face was stained with dirt, one could still see a few delicate features, his skin pale from a lack of sunlight.
"Toby." His voice was very deep - not intentionally lowered, but a naturally hoarse quality. If one listened closely, they could faintly hear the whispers of a devil, sending a chill down the listener's spine. "Don't you always want to know why I was kicked out of the Luminous Church?"
This voice made Toby feel a twinge of discomfort. He vaguely recalled the rumors about the teenager in front of him, the horror stories whispered in dilapidated taverns.
*There is a curse left by an Evil God on his body, and anyone who sees that mark will die. A painful, twisted death, their soul imprisoned in darkness forever.*
Toby's expression in that moment turned ashen, and the hand gripping the scarf began to tremble slightly.
*The rumors said that the priest who adopted him turned into a monster precisely because he saw that mark.*
Alex's hand tugged at the scarf, following the momentum as if intending to take it off. His movements were slow and deliberate, in stark contrast to the panic rising in the other boy's eyes.
"Wait!" Toby panicked, his previous arrogance vanishing completely. He took a step back as if Alex were a bomb about to explode. "Don't take it off."
Alex's movements did not stop; the scarf loosened, revealing a patch of pale neck skin.
"Don't, don't, don't! I'll give you my income from today!" Toby closed his eyes, thinking of Alex's obsession with money, and shouted, "It's in my left coat pocket, three copper coins in total."
Alex's hand paused.
"Three coppers?" He pulled the scarf back up, covering the mysterious neck area, his eyes sharp as a razor. "Only three coppers?"
"There's a silver coin in the right one," Toby said through gritted teeth, looking as pained as if he were being sliced open. "That is my entire life savings. You really are a bloodsucker."
Alex scoffed and retied the scarf. He stepped forward and unceremoniously reached into Toby's pocket, fishing out the coins on his person.
One silver coin, three copper coins - four coins glittering under the blood-red sunset. The silver coin bore the image of the Goddess; though worn, it still radiated an irresistible allure.
Alex put the money away, feeling its weight in his pocket, then swept his eyes around the courtyard. The corpse storage yard was vast, cluttered with undulating piles of white cloth, the air thick with the smell of death.
"I'm asking you, was a legless boy brought in today? About seven or eight years old, very thin, wearing ash-gray coarse cloth."
Toby lowered his eyes, both regretting the money and feeling afraid. He recalled for a moment, then pointed a trembling finger toward a dark corner of the yard. "There was one this morning, piled up over there. Looked smashed to pieces; no one bothered to claim it."
"Where are his legs?"
"How should I know? Probably flew off somewhere on the tracks," Toby said, his tone indifferent and emotionless.
Alex let out a cold sneer and made a move to take off his scarf again.
Toby hurriedly waved his hands, his face turning pale.
"I'll go find them. I'll go find them right now!" With that, he scrambled up and dashed toward the corner where the corpses were piled, running as if fleeing from the God of Death.
Alex adjusted his scarf, hiding his dirt-streaked face inside it, and turned to go find the manager to collect his wages for the day.
He had just taken a step when his sleeve was pulled by someone. A biting cold sensation transmitted through the fabric of his shirt.
Alex turned around. It was the little ghost that had followed him earlier. Because it had gotten close to its body, it had gained a bit of substance, and its facial features were clearer, though it still couldn't speak. Its eyes were brimming with tears, full of pleading.
It pointed at Alex's scarf.
"What, you want to see too? If you see it, your soul will scatter."
The little ghost shook its head vigorously. Its finger pointed at Alex's scarf, and following the direction of its finger, a small loose end of yarn came into Alex's view.
The scarf was too old and frayed in many places; with just a little inattention, the yarn end would be exposed, and the secret underneath would no longer be hidden.
Alex reached out and skillfully tucked the loose end into the folds.
"If we delay any longer, we won't make it." He pursed his lips, looking somewhat anxiously at the sunset on the horizon that was gradually being swallowed by darkness. The night was spreading like ink on blotting paper.
"Found it." Toby shouted, his voice echoing in the quiet space. He walked over carrying the small corpse on one shoulder, his other hand holding a severed leg, the blood on it congealed into black.
His complexion looked terrible. He threw the small corpse onto the ground with a [thud], then tossed the leg down beside it.
He was covered in filthy mud and sticky bloodstains from other corpses.
"What are you looking for this tattered thing for? It's disgusting. What kind of ghostly trick are you planning with it?"
Alex ignored him and turned to speak to the little ghost hovering nearby. "Go over there."
The little ghost's body gradually materialized. It slowly approached its own corpse - a withered, dried-up body with ribs protruding clearly, devoid of any vitality, with only the lower half crushed.
"Ah ah ah." Sounds of shattering, pain, and despair came from its throat; it couldn't even arrange a complete sentence.
It wanted to pick up its severed leg and fit it back into the old spot, but no matter how it tried, it couldn't grasp the physical object; its hands passed right through the cold flesh.
Its expression became dull, its arms hanging down limply, like a small, helpless animal abandoned by the world, resigned to a tragic fate.
Alex looked at it, looked at this little ghost with only half a body, and a strange sense of empathy rose in his heart.