Chapter 1: Useless thing

The room door slammed open, and the eyes of the three young boys inside trembled as Edana bashed in. With a stern face, she counted all three of them and then looked over at the fourth bed before screaming, "Where is Axe?!"

Within a matter of seconds, the orphanage was engraved in a frustrating silence as the news of Axe’s escape spread like wildfire among the children and staff.

By the minutes, the hallway was with a haunting silence, broken only by the soft shuffling of anxious feet and the occasional stifled whimper.

Obediently, the children lined up in perfect rows, their tiny bodies trembling because they knew all too well the consequences of Axe's disobedience... Because for every time he attempted to escape, the burden fell upon them all.

Their faces were etched with weariness, their eyes heavy with the weight of their shared fate. The dimly lit corridor, with its peeling wallpaper and flickering fluorescent lights, seemed to mirror the somber atmosphere that hung heavily in the air.

Edana, the stern matron of the orphanage, stood before the trembling children, her eyes scanning the row with a mixture of disappointment and anger.

Minutes ticked by agonizingly slow, the silence stretching out like a taut wire ready to snap. The children's hearts pounded in their chests, their breaths shallow and uneven.

Finally, a door creaked open at the end of the corridor, and the sound echoed through the stillness. Every child turned their gaze towards it, their eyes wide with trepidation.

The footsteps that followed were heavy and accompanied by a low murmur of voices. The children held their breath, their young hearts hanging on the cliff of uncertainty.

When their cold-hearted headmaster, Mr. Havisham, emerged from the doorway, the children's collective breath caught in their throats. His tall, imposing figure cast a long, dark shadow that seemed to stretch across the entire corridor, enveloping them in a chilling aura of fear.

Slowly, Mr. Havisham's steely gray eyes scanned the row of trembling children, his thin lips curling into a cold, humorless smile.

The piercing echo of Mr. Havisham’s commanding voice suddenly reverberated down the dimly lit corridor of the orphanage.

As his cold, steely gaze swept over to the rows of trembling children, he began calling out names.

"Jonathan!"

The first name summoned sent a shiver down the spines of the younger children.

"Samuel!"

As Mr. Havisham continued the roll call, the distress within the children heightened.

"Joseph!"

Tears welled up in the eyes of some, while others bit their trembling lips, trying to contain the fear.

Finally, the ten names were spoken, and the fourteen-year-olds stepped forward, their eyes just as cold as their headmaster.

“Go and get me that ill-bred lowlife.” Mr. Havisham ordered, his face impassive as he regarded each of the children standing before him. “We need to teach him not to run away again.”

The boys side-eyed each other and then one of them mumbled, “What if he has escaped for good this time-”

“That rat just finished his three days of dry fast, and he chose to run again... Now, how far do you think he can go on an empty stomach, Huh, Jeremy?”

“I-I... I don't know, master.”

“Do you want to test it out for yourself for you to find out?”

Shaking his head, Jeremy murmured, “No, master.”

“Good! Now, you three go and get it. I don't care how it looks when you guys get it back here. Just make sure it's back here! Understood?!” Mr. Havisham demanded, pointing sharply at the ten children. “Understood!!”

The ten teens, their faces etched with anger, nodded in unison and then walked away.

As they pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the orphanage, the outside world greeted them with a gust of cold wind that cut through their thin, worn-out clothes.

It didn't take long for them to spot Axe, a mere silhouette against the fading light of the setting sun. He stood on the outskirts of the orphanage grounds, his eyes darting from left to right.

The moment he spotted the approaching group, fear flickered in his eyes, and he turned to run.

But the ten children, fueled by anger and desperation, were faster. They lunged towards him, their small frames colliding with his. Axe stumbled and fell to the ground, his body crashing against the cold, hard pavement.

And then, something changed. The fury that had driven their pursuit transformed into something darker. They surrounded Axe, like a pack of wolves cornering their prey. Their hands, once gentle and innocent, clenched into fists, ready to unleash their frustration upon him.

One by one, they began to strike, their blows landing on Axe's fragile body.

"Look what you've done!" Jonathan yelled. "You've caused so much trouble for all of us because of your stubbornness! The headmaster is mad, and we are all going to suffer!”

Samuel, his voice laced with bitterness, chimed in, "Do you think your mother is ever coming back for you? She abandoned you, Axe! Face the reality!"

The words echoed in the air, mingling with the painful cries that escaped Axe's lips. Each blow felt like a dagger to his heart, but he couldn't bring himself to fight back. He could only whimper, his tears mixing with the dirt on his face.

Yet, even through the pain, Axe's voice trembled, his cries becoming desperate pleas. "She will come back! She promised me! She'll come back, I know she will!"

As Axe's pleas filled the air, his words seemed to fuel the fury within the ten children, their blows raining down upon him with even greater intensity.

Tears streamed down Axe's face, his voice now reduced to mere whimpers, drowned out by the sound of his suffering.

But just as the children's anger reached its crescendo, a distant rumble broke through the chaos. Their heads snapped up, their eyes widening in fear and confusion.

A black Mercedes Benz came into view, and the sight of the luxury vehicle sent a jolt of terror through the children, causing them to hesitate in their assault on Axe. Their fists, once clenched, now hung limply by their sides.

A car screeched to a halt, its engine sputtered to silence, and the door swung open, revealing a man and his young daughter.

The little girl, no more than four years old, peered around, her wide eyes scanning the scene before her. And then, her gaze landed on Axe, crumpled and broken on the ground.

Instantly, a gasp escaped her tiny lips, and her small hands reached out towards him.

"Papa! Papa!" she cried, her voice carrying a mix of innocence and concern. "He's hurt. We should help him, Papa. You said I could have anyone of them. I want him. We should take him home with us."

The man, towering in stature, glanced down at his daughter. His face, rugged and weathered, contorted into a scowl as he glanced at the ten boys who surrounded Axe. Their clenched fists and the remnants of anger etched on their faces did not escape his notice. But it was the sight of Axe, limp and unconscious, that caused a flicker of sympathy to cross his eyes.

With hesitant strides, the man closed the distance, and he knelt beside Axe, his daughter clinging tightly to his leg.

Gently, he lifted the battered boy into his arms, cradling him with a tenderness that contrasted with his hardened exterior.

In the intense, Axe stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment before his consciousness slipped away again.

The man's daughter, tiptoed as he bent over for her to reach Axe, her small fingers reaching out to touch Axe's bruised arm, whispered, "It's okay, mister. Papa will take care of you."

‘I came here to find a kid to raise into an indomitable bodyguard that will be loyal to you for life, and yet you chose such a weakling and useless thing?’ Chairman Blade thought, staring down at Axe and then at the worried way his daughter glanced at him, her tiny hand holding onto hid dirty ones as tears trickled down her peachy cheeks.