Chapter 3

Zandro

The Civil Guards quickly took action the moment the criminal fell in the ground with blood, restraining her and defusing all the bombs and traps she installed. It's important to keep her alive for interrogation so Zandro punctured a specific chord in her nape with his blade.

"Zandro, you can go back to school now. Leave the rest to us!" The Lieutenant proudly said with a thumbs-up. The sunlight shone on his white teeth.

Zandro averted his eyes as hesitation to move out. Go back to school? "I-Is it an order?" He hoped the officer wasn't serious when he was telling him to go to school–after he skipped classes.

"Yup! Worry not! You're not the only one who could detect bombs!" The officer enthusiastically announced with the same posture. He then sniffed to emphasize his ability. "I can smell bombs too! Woof! Woof! The only difference between us is, I can't crawl over that ceiling!"

It's not what Zandro meant to ask but if it's an order then he has no choice. Even though it's not their duty hours, the officer has the right to command them. But before leaving, something bothered him that he wanted to seek an answer. But he was too shy to ask, at the same time, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep if he missed this chance.

Zandro bowed down sideways, clenching his fist to lend strength to his diaphragm and produce a voice, "O-Officer, can I ask a question?"

The officer was about to continue his job but he chose to turn to Zandro. "You're really a curious kid, Zandro! Sure! You're the star today, afterall, so feel free to claim your rewards! What is it?"

Why does he have to yell every time he speaks?

"What does she mean evil?"

"Evil?" the Lieutenant touched his chin to think. Then an answer sparked. "I remember! She seemed to claim the Dutchel Flyer invention as his family's! But Kright is a bicycle factory and has no relation in aircrafting! Besides, the invention was in 1904, five years later when their parents were killed! She might have just misthought that it was her parents' idea as part of her grief to their deaths and believed herself that it was all rooted to their race!"

"What does it have to do with race? Are they from Garnaro too?"

"Nope! There is one race that people call devil's blood and it's the Malvado Bloodline. Does it ring a bell to you?"

Zandaro's eyes widened upon remembering something his mother advised him before leaving him alone. "Avoid all people who have abyssal eyes–those eyes that are completely black. They were the bloodlines of Malvado known as devil's blood. Believe me, they're crazy."

"A-Aren't we the same? People around us are telling us the same thing." He asked his mother. 

"We're just criminals in their eyes but we never killed anyone for selfish reasons. And those abyssal eyes were completely different," his mother answered.

Zandro looked up to the officer with tears. "W-Will people do the same to us?"

The officer creased his forehead. "What do you think is the same?"

"Hunt us because of our race?"

The officer was stunned for a second but bursted a laughing after. "No need to worry! The King has your blessings due to your participation from the Great War, remember? So the authorities, especially the military, greatly respect your tribes! And you proved that one like your clan can be civilized as well! You shouldn't be worrying anymore!"

Zandro's eyes left in the air for a moment. He might have found an assurance and a thorn pulled out from his chest, but in his heart still screaming the word justice. He thought he knew exactly what the woman felt.

"Zandro, let me just advise you one little thing before you go," the officer followed up, his enthusiastic mood gone. "Don't you dare try to empathize with murderers. Empathize with the people they killed and the family they left behind."

~

Even though the officer told him to go to school, he didn't have the strength to. Not because he was afraid to be seen by his classmates, but to digest the tragic scene he had encountered earlier and all the thoughts formed within. He was just a kid after all.

He laid on his bed all day the whole week–on the alley with abandoned buildings where garbage was put in. He had a pretty decent salary he got from his part-time job since his performance was good but renting a room would be unnecessary. He was more comfortable sleeping on floors and eating rotten foods in garbage, just as the qualities of a monitor lizard combined with his family routine.

He watched the orange skies turn into night, and the blinking stars stared back at him. The cold wind caressed to his bare skin on his shirtless body but he didn't bother.

"I thought I could change how the world perceives us once we prove ourselves to the world. But those Kright families who succeeded a great company still ended up being hated, and even murdered–nothing's changed." He lied sideways, resting his head on his arm. "Maybe that's what Mama and Papa meant to say that they refused to be slaves to society."

He was about to close his eyes when he fixed himself and accidentally kicked something below him. He sat up to check and saw his opened bag toppled, scattering his belongings on the floor. He crawled to tidy it up and stopped as he touched an ointment.

He suddenly remembered those blonde hair splashing through the air while staring at her luminescent emerald eyes. Akaesha. This was from her. The first girl at his age he talked to in his whole life, and even tried to help him. He felt her genuine concern for him. A smile stretched on his face.

"Or maybe not everyone else hates us."

And of course, the Major, Lieutenant, and other Civil Guards were treating him as well despite his identity.

-inkofdeath