Chapter 2: Justice? What’s That?

Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Justice? What's That?

"Ma'am..."

"Don't you kids know how to knoc—Rhys!?"

The Old York High School. Although it was one of the smallest high schools in the country of Amerka, it still boasted several alumni that made their names known throughout the entire country.

Rhys is spending his last year as a senior in the school; his stay, completely sponsored by the government as a sort of personal relief fund for the tragedy he had experienced when he was younger. Suffice it to say, as a freeloader and a Lowborn, Rhys was not fully welcomed by most of the students and even some of the faculty.

But if there was one person that made Rhys even just feel slightly welcome, it was Katarina Lopez. But then again, she didn't have a choice since she was the school's doctor; her clinic, almost Rhys's second home from the constant beatings through the 6 years he had been here.

"What happened now!?" Katarina, who seemed to be filling in some paperwork, quickly stood up from her desk; her glasses, dropping from her tanned face as she did so. The pair of glasses did not fall to the floor, however, as it bounced from her large bosoms that her shirt could barely contain before it landed on the desk.

Katarina's brown eyes reflected a young man leaning on the side of the door of her clinic; his blood, trickling to the floor.

"I... just need antibiotics and I'm leaving, Dr. Lopez," Rhys gasped as he closed and locked the door behind him; his steps, as stuttered as his breaths as he made his way to the medicine closet,

"I don't want to bother you, doctor. I can inject the antibiotics myself," he then said; his blood, painting the glass cabinet as he tried to open it.

"No, I don't think so!"

But before Rhys could open the cabinet, Katarina pulled him away; not even caring that her white uniform was getting messy with Rhys's blood as she dragged him to the bed.

"You sit, and you stay put. You hear me?" Katarina then gently pushed Rhys to the bed, making him lie down before violently pointing at him to stay as she started preparing something to clean his wounds.

What Katarina did not prepare, however, were the antibiotics or any other needles and sutures. Instead, as she returned to the bed, she just gently placed her hand on Rhys's face—and with a light breath escaping her lips, her hands started to light up.

It was a green light that very slowly wrapped Rhys's face, a hazy green light that showed that one holds the blood of Asclepius, the God of Healing. Most doctors have the blood of Asclepius in them.

The procedure to heal someone usually involves pain, a lot of pain for the patient.

And Katarina knew how much in pain Rhys is, but even still, he never once screamed—and aside from his clenched jaw, his eyes that one could barely see felt empty... blank. He wasn't always like this, but his tolerance for pain has always existed.

She could still remember the first time Rhys visited her clinic—all bloodied up, with most of his teeth missing. He still winced in pain then, but after several times, his eyes just lost their color. She reported this to the school, but no one really cared for a Lowborn.

"You're graduating this year, Rhys," and as the light in her hand disappeared, Katarina forcefully grabbed Rhys's healed face and turned it toward her, Discover new chapters at novelhall.com

"I think it's about time you tell me who is doing this to you."

"I tripped on the stairs."

"Shit..."

In a dark and bleak room, Rhys's deep breaths whispered into the empty walls. He had lived in the school dormitory for 6 years, and yet the only sign one could see that someone was actually living there was the mattress placed right at the very center of the square room, as well as the suitcase at the corner.

Once again, the room was fully sponsored by the government.

Rhys touched his jaw, massaging it to see if anything was left broken. But after groaning several times as he stretched his neck, he started undressing—folding his clothes neatly before moving to his room's personal bathroom.

He placed the bloodied clothes into the laundry basket, before cleaning himself in the shower; the blood that still stuck to his body, mixing with the water. His shower was cold, cold enough that each of his heavy breaths released vapor.

And he just stood there for an hour, rubbing and cleaning himself to the point that his skin started to scald before he was done.

"Ha... Fuck my life," he then whispered as he got out of the shower—making sure to wipe any dripping water on the floor as he made his way in front of the mirror. The mirror, however, was shattered; its cracks, like a web that reflected Rhys's fractured life.

Even with his broken reflection, however, as Rhys pulled his jet-black hair. Jet-black hair, a sign that a person was most probably a Lowborn. And as he pushed his hair that covered his face back, one could easily notice the stunning features of his face. Jet-black eyes, thick but sharp eyebrows, his perfectly lined jaw—one would think that his face was a sculpture of Narcissus and Adonis merged in one.

One would also think his perfect face was a blessing, but no—he was too weak to have it, and it only caused him trouble. It was the very reason people started bullying him in the first place... and so, he just learned to hide it by covering his face.

His body was trained obsessively; his shoulders were wide and it felt like his flesh would explode from how sharp the edges of his muscles were—he trained his body to perfection to survive this unfair world, and yet it did not matter.

In a world where a man, much skinnier than he is, could lift a car in one hand with ease... his million push-ups meant nothing. And as Rhys was once again reminded of that fact as he got dressed, the only thing he could really do was sit on his bed and sigh.

There was truly only one thing that Rhys looked forward to—seeing his sister smile.

"..." Rhys grabbed something from his suitcase—a phone.

The phone seemed fairly new, but both its cameras on the front and back were completely scratched.

A small smile then formed on his face as he quickly pressed the only app on his phone—Shudder, a social media streaming platform where people can record their lives. In this case, it was mostly used by Explorers, people who delve into the Holes created by the monsters.

His sister, unlike him, was a Commoner—she was her mother's child from her 2nd husband. And fortunately, unlike him, his sister had talents, abilities.

The two of them were only 2 years apart, and yet at 16, his sister has already achieved more than he ever will in his life. But Rhys was not envious, he was happy... happy that at least one of them gets to continue living in this cruel world.

And so, with a small chuckle, he clicked on his sister's channel... only for the smile on his face to disappear as soon as he saw the title of her stream.

<Joining the Cerberus Guild.>

"Cerberus Guild..." Rhys's eyes widened as he read the title over and over again before actually proceeding to watch it, "Isn't that...

...where that guy is joining?"