The night was slowly filling with shadows under the dim lights of the liquor shop. The yellowed lamps, mixing with the dust on the ceiling, cast a hazy light around, and the silence between the tables was occasionally broken by the clinking of glasses. I was sitting with my friends, breathing in the sweet relief that came after the missions we had just completed. The glasses on the table were trembling slightly; the wooden floor creaked with every step, every small movement echoing as if it would break all the silence in the shop.
I took another sip of my drink and turned my eyes to my friends. There was a silent understanding in our eyes; a bond we didn't have to explain to anyone. As assassins working underground, the world we lived in was one most people could not see. In this world, friendship was as precious as blood, but betrayal always waited just a step away.
At that moment, a sharp scream rose from the next table. Suddenly, all sounds stopped, as if time had frozen with that scream. When we turned our heads, my eyes filled with cold anger: several men were attacking the apprentice girl. Her small hands flailed helplessly, but she didn't have the strength. Anger suddenly surged inside me; I threw the rice I had eaten onto the table in rage and stood up.
A moment of silence followed. Everyone was looking at me; there was shock and unease in their eyes. But I didn't care. My eyes were focused only on that girl. "Enough! Leave the girl alone!" I shouted. My voice echoed like sharp steel even under the dim light of the shop.
The girl was at most thirteen years old. This was not ordinary disrespect; this was reckless, blind violence. A spark began to ignite inside me. At that moment, all the anger from every loss and betrayal I had experienced in the past merged at once.
The men turned to me. One of them sneered and stepped forward. "Who are you?" he said, his voice full of mockery, but he couldn't hide the fear in his eyes.
I brushed past their touch on my chest; my heart was racing, but I didn't stop. Without thinking, I punched him in the face. The man staggered and then collapsed to the ground. The others recoiled in terror, searching for a hole to escape. At that moment, the air in the shop was filled with a heavy silence. It was as if everyone was holding their breath; but I still hadn't stopped.
The girl's eyes looked at me. First fear, then astonishment, and finally a small relief glimmered. That small face leaned toward me and thanked me repeatedly. The words were almost stuck in her throat. Then, with trembling steps, she ran toward the kitchen, perhaps thinking she could find safety there.
I sat back down as if nothing had happened. My friends were still silent, but I could see the awe and respect in their eyes. After all, we were not ordinary people. We had learned the cost of working underground over many years; therefore, feeling dangers that ordinary people couldn't see was part of our job.
The shop's lamps were still dim, but with that little girl's escape, the tension in the air had eased slightly. One of my friends whispered quietly, "Are you always this quick to anger?" I glanced at him, a small, bitter smile appearing on my lips. "Sometimes anger is our sharpest weapon," I said.
That night, under the dim lights of the liquor shop, we hadn't just saved a girl; we had also faced the shadows of our own dark past. The girl's fear had echoed the wounds of my past inside me. And I knew that what happened that night was just the beginning. Because underground, things were never simple. Every shadow hid a new danger.
The glasses trembled again. The wooden floor slightly felt our steps. But this time, the silence carried a kind of peace; at least for a short while. I turned my eyes back to my friends at the table and quietly sipped my drink. A cold wind was blowing outside, but inside, there was the warmth of having ensured a bit of justice.
And at that moment, I felt we were at the beginning of a path we would never return from. The girl was hiding in a safe corner of the kitchen; but I knew that in this city, innocence was threatened at every moment. And we were walking on a fine line between shadows, justice, and vengeance.