After three weeks of fighting injustice in the villages surrounding the inner city, I had unexpectedly found myself in an inner-city brothel. When Weredra had told me that the boots would take me to places where trouble was brewing, I had presumed that it would take me right to it. And for the most part, it had proved right, that is until today. For the first time, it seemed that it had taken me in the vicinity of trouble. The exact nature and cause was up to me to identify.

Something is better than nothing, I guess.  

Since I was still in the inner city and did not have my temporary permit at hand, I decide to cover most of my body with the cloak. I take refuge behind a group of men entering the entertainment house and follow them. Lucky for me, the men look to be nobles and regular visitors. When the guard at the entrance bows to them, I sneak past them and enter the establishment. I watch as the nobles hand over a maroon circular object, about three-inch in diameter, to the guard, who stuffs it in a cubby hole by the entrance. "Thank you for your cooperation." The guard bows again and welcomes them inside.

I creep closer to the entrance trying my best to hide myself completely. It was the first time I had found myself in a crowded location. I slouch and drop on all fours and crawl towards the guard and strategically place myself in such a way that I can hear them talk.

After about ten minutes of eavesdropping on their conversation, I had gathered that the circular object was the sacred 'royal permit' that I had seen hanging from Lung Chi's waist. The permit was like a deposit of sorts as well. All expenses incurred during the visit to the establishment were 'charged' to it. I also hear my name: 'The masked bandit' getting mentioned in passing. It sounded like a word of my antics had reached the inner-city and made nobles anxious.

I leave the area and venture inside. I find beautiful men and women, all sparsely dressed, hover and cling to impeccably dressed men, both young and old, who I concluded, were the customers.

I look around and spot the familiar faces I had taken refuge behind; I crawl over to them as they look at the goods on offer. It was nothing out of the ordinary, I presumed, for everyone looked to be in good spirits. 

 I spot the men I had entered with, and sneaking past the other customers, go to them.

I watch the older one settle down for a drink while the younger refuses the beverage and looks past the entertainers towards a door at the end of a massive, elaborately decorated hall.

 The older drowns a drink and gets handsy with a lovely delicate lady, pulling her into his lap and offering her the next drink; it's disgusting how the man's hands caress the lady's cheek and trail down to her bosom. Concluding that the lady was probably forced to work here and needed saving, I keep my eyes glued to the woman. Why else would the boots have lead me here? But even after observing the woman for a few minutes, it doesn't look like she was doing something she did not want to do.

'So that's not why I am here.' I realize and shift my attention to the young man who had suddenly left and walked towards the place he had been eyeing. Halfway there, however, he meets a young man who hands a white square object half the size of my palm to him. After receiving it, the lord gives the young man some money and promptly walks towards the door at the end of the hall.

It must be this, the reason I am here.

I sprint. With barely a second to spare, I cross the threshold behind the young man. And am standing beside him as the door shut from the outside.

A heavy familiar scent hangs in the dimly lit room. It takes me a few seconds to get used to the lighting and the fragrance, which is the same one I had come across on the day I had set foot in the inner city.

"You are early, my lord. " A sweet, soft voice addresses the young man. And an elegant woman decked up in the most exquisite silks that our kingdom offered, similar to the ones my aunt, the queen, used, walks out of the shadows. I notice that the woman has an eye-catching hairdo and a seductive smirk adorning her beautiful face The 'Lord', however, doesn't even spare her a glance. His eyes look past her.

"Is she ready?" The young man enquires, to which the woman nods. "Good. I want to inspect her before I take her." He adds, his eyes glued to the door.

What the fuck is happening here!?

The woman nods, "Of course." A satisfied smile replaces the smirk, and the woman turns and commands, "Bring her."

A man walks out of the shadows, the same place the woman had appeared from moments ago; my breath hitches. It's none other than the senior guard! He crouches down and pulls open the wooden floorboards. As he disappears under it, I peer into the darkness. A few moments later, he emerges with a bundle in his arms. 

 I move closer for a better view, and what I see makes bile rise in my throat. It's a child. The built suggests that she could be no more than ten.

It doesn't make sense. Why would a man need to inspect a child? I feel like I am missing something. I curse my sheltered upbringing and hope to Buddha that he cues me in on what is going on.

Barely moments later, the young lord moves the shawl covering the child and caresses her cheek in a way that makes my blood boil. I know that look. And now I know what he is: pedophile.

I watch as the evil man takes the unconscious child in his arms. I almost expose myself by running to save the child from the monster's clutches, but I change my mind a split second before I have acted on my impulse.

Why? Simple, just as I about to reveal myself, the band on my wrist had glowed. 'Not yet!' I had heard Weredra's voice in my mind. 'Why!?' I had retorted. What she had said next had made a lot of sense, and I had agreed.

I continue to watch as the man nods appreciatively and hands the child back to the guard, "Take her to the carriage." He orders and leaves the room. Meanwhile, with the child in his arms, the senior guard walks out from a back door. I follow the pedophile, who, after collecting the permit, leaves the way he had arrived. Once outside, he boards the carriage, which starts moving.

Worry consumes me. I think of ways to protect the child, who at this very moment was inside the carriage with the vile man. That's when, like a miracle, an idea pops into my mind. 

 I run ahead of the carriage, and making sure to keep myself hidden, push a hefty man coming out of one of the entertainment houses in front of it.

As expected, the man, who is under the influence of alcohol, falls face first in front of the oncoming carriage. The carriage stops with a jerk, and the horrible man pops his head out. "What the fuck is happening!?" He barks.

"Sir, it's the finance minister." The carriage driver responds.

Jackpot!

"Damn it!" He mutters under his breath and steps out of the carriage.

Making use of this opportunity, I enter it. I rampage through the items to see if I can get hold of something useful. The inside of the carriage stinks of ancestral wealth. I observe that the carriage smelled like the brothel as well. Apart from these, however, nothing catches my eye. I am about to give up when something white and square catches my attention.

I pick it up. It looks like a pastry father used to get for me as a child. The scent, I realize, is coming from this sweet.

The way that man had treated it made it look like this thing was valuable. Curiosity gets the best of me, and without giving it much thought, I bite into it.

'NOOOOOO!' I hear Weredra scream in my ear. Startled, I yell back, "Stop it. That hurt!"

It is only after doing that that I realize that I had messed up. I jump out of the window a split second before the doors are thrown open.

Landing on my feet soundlessly, I wear my mask, which covers more than half of my face, and remove my cloak.

 "Hello, boys." I chirp, smiling cocky, and pull out my sword. I ignore the buzz spreading over my body. Luckily, the vile man did not have the foresight to travel with guards; the four men who stand facing me are merely carriage bearers.

Two of them promptly faint looking at my impressive length, I mean sword length. The other two, however, show some spine and come at me with daggers.

Of course, their small instruments are nothing compared to mine, but I had expected as much. In any case, they were not the problem, the crowd gathering around us and the bewildered-looking pedophile were. 

 Making quick work of the two men doesn't take much time, skill, or energy. When I have dealt with them, both are lying on the ground, unconscious but otherwise uninjured.

As I had swung my sword at them, I had realized that I was not as keen to draw blood as I had presumed earlier, so I had shown mercy and settled for knocking them out.

In the few seconds that it takes me, however, the haziness I had been feeling intensifies. My limbs start to feel like lead, adding to my woes. 

'Leave. NOW!' I hear Weredra once again. Unable to ignore the urgency in her voice, I make like a coward and turn tail, despite wanting to rescue the child. Only when I have put some space between the mob and myself that I realize that I had no clue where I was. Moreover, I was feeling hot and dizzy.

I close my eyes and am about to sit down when I feel my feet move on their own.

'YiJun, hang on. Fight it. Don't give in.' My mind commands. It sounds sincere. It sounds familiar, but right at this point, I can't for the life of me tell who it is. It takes all of my strength to put one foot in front of the other. But somehow, I manage it.

Few agonizing minutes later, I find myself facing a wall. I wonder what I am doing in front of a wall in an abandoned alley.

I reason that I am here to pee. For why else would my feet bring me here. I am about to pull my pants down and crouch when a window appears on the door. Curious, I jump inside.

I want to make sense of the situation, but my mind is too tired, and I feel like something is making it hard for me to walk. I look down and see that my pants are tented. It looks funny. I want to touch it. I am about to do it when the familiar voice yells, 'Don't do it.'

The voice is super irritating. Why should I listen to it? Why am I listening to it? "NO. Shut up. Get lost! Get out of my head!" I yell and pull at the belts holding my pants up. The need to touch myself down there is so intense that it's almost painful.

The next moment, I fall. The pain shoots from my tailbone and spreads all over my lower back. I wince and continue clawing at my belts; it's complicated. I can't seem to get my pants off and get to the thing.

'Get a grip. If you don't, I will hurt your precious Zhan.' The voice threatens. 

 Zhan. The name sounds familiar; my hands still, "Zhan?" I repeat.

As soon as the word rolls off my tongue, I feel a pang in my heart. "NO, you won't. Don't you dare hurt Zhan." I bite out, even without knowing who this man is.

'Then get your ass off the ground and cooperate.' 

As much as I want to touch myself, the need to keep the man called Zhan safe feels more urgent; I nod and stand up. With much effort, I restrain myself from touching the thing between my legs.

'It's called a penis, you moron. Now get a grip. Run.' The irritating voice informs unnecessarily. 

 Cursing the bearer of the voice, I take a deep breath and do as told. Soon, I find myself in front of another wall.

What am I doing here? 

Where am I?

I look around and find myself surrounded by smoke and drenched in sweat, with the tent in my pant threatening to break its confines. I am about to voice my concern when a window pops up, right in the middle of the wall!

Wow! It's like magic. I love it. Is there more?

'What the hell are you doing, YiJun. Get in!' The annoying voice commands, and before I can stop myself, my boots twitch and itch. 'Get in!' The voice repeats, and to make it stop, I do as instructed.

{Word count: 2277}