Night had fallen like a soft curtain over the slums, and the city hummed with distant laughter, firelight, and the groaning sighs of the overworked. Jack stood in a line outside the sewage plant, exhausted and filthy, the stink of the day clinging to his skin like guilt.
My back is killing me and I stink, he thought with a weary smile. But at least I'm done working, and I'm about to get paid.
When it was finally his turn, he stepped in front of John, the gruff plant manager.
"You did well today," John grunted, tossing a few coins into Jack's dirt-smeared hands.
Ten bronze coins.
Jack stared at them for a moment. His smile faltered. He walked out of the line and into the grime-covered streets, the coins jingling in his palm like an insult.
"After all of that, I only got ten bronze coins," he muttered. "Back in the Werewolf Kingdom, I made ten gold coins a day. With this, I could barely buy a single meal…"
He flipped the coins into the air and caught them, then sighed and continued on his way through the slums.
Suddenly, an arm slung itself around his neck. It was heavy and warm. Familiar.
"What's up, Jack?" Jessica grinned, practically hanging off of him.
Jack glanced sideways. "Hey, Jessi," he replied, drained.
"You wanna hang?"
"I don't have the cash to hang out. And I gotta save what I have for my sister."
"Aaaww, you got a sister?" she teased. "Don't worry, I know a cheap place that sells wors and pap, with unlimited Amarula. And it's on me."
Jack hesitated. "Okay... I'll go if you're paying. But... what's Amarula?"
"A fruity beer. You'll love it."
They smiled at each other, both feeling a little warmer inside as they walked to the spot she spoke of, a small tavern called The Witch's Den.
They took a seat outside, lit by lanterns swaying gently in the breeze. An elderly woman came to serve them.
"Hi there. I'm Crystal. I'll be serving you," she said with a kind smile.
Jack blinked. "Are you the only one working here?"
"Yes," Crystal said proudly. "I'm also the owner."
"But… you're human, and the name makes it sound like witches run it. Kinda false advertising, don't you think?"
Jessica kicked Jack under the table.
"Ow! Why'd you kick me?!"
Crystal chuckled. "Rude young man. My best friend, who was a witch, started this place. She gave it to me when she moved. I kept the name out of respect."
"Oh. Okay. That makes sense."
Jessica gave an apologetic grin. "Sorry about him. Two plates of pap and wors, two Amarulas, and one plate to go, please."
As Crystal left to prepare the order, Jessica leaned across the table. "You need to chill a bit, Jack. Phrase things better."
"Okay, I'll try… But why the extra plate?"
"For your sister, dummy. Are you two alone?"
"Yeah. Just me and Sam."
"What happened to your parents?"
Jack looked down. "The new Werewolf King had them killed. Then he... he raped my sister repeatedly. We ran and ended up here."
Jessica's cheer vanished. "What age is she?"
"Fifteen. But she has a fear of men now. Won't let anyone touch her."
Jessica's fists clenched. "That king is a monster. But... monsters come in all races."
Jack looked at her more closely. Her body was built like a sculpture, muscled, firm, radiant with strength. Jessica noticed his stare and grinned.
"Admiring me, brah?" she teased, flexing.
Jack blinked. "No! I mean, whoa... can I feel?"
"Sure."
Jack ran his fingers along her flexed arm. "Your muscles... they're beautiful. A work of art."
Jessica turned red. Jack did too. They both quickly looked away as Crystal returned with food and drinks.
The first round of Amarula vanished in one gulp.
"That's... thick, but tasty!" Jack said, wiping his mouth.
"Bring another round, Crystal!" Jessica called.
When Crystal returned, Jack pointed at Jessica. "Blonde hair. Blue eyes. That means you're a Noble too, right?"
Jessica nodded slowly. "My dad's from the Kaizen branch of the human Nobles. A famous knight. My mom? A slum woman. He disappeared when she got pregnant."
Jack frowned. "So… you lived with your mom?"
Jessica's face hardened. "She died when I was young. I lived alone, got raped by men from all races. Nobody helped me. So I started training. Built my body. Started fighting back. Survived."
Jack stared at her. "You went through all that… and you're still smiling. You're incredible. I mean... your smile is beautiful. Uh… I mean…"
They both turned red again. Crystal returned with another round. They drank, laughed, talked, and forgot, for a while, the pain of the world.
One hour and many empty mugs later, Jack stood up, wobbling. Jessica was sprawled back, staring at the sky.
I should get home. Sam's probably worried. But I can't leave Jessi like this, he thought, staggering.
He waved at Crystal. "How... much?"
"Two bronze," she said, handing him the takeaway food.
Only two? Jessi was right, it's super cheap.
Jack helped Jessica to her feet. "Hey… where do you live?"
"I… can't… remember... The ground's too blurry," she mumbled.
"You'll come... to my place," Jack said, as they stumbled together through the slums.
Jessica leaned into him. "Jack… you're really… a great guy…"
Jack tried not to look down her blouse and stared straight ahead, red as a ripe tomato.
They arrived at Jack's house. It was cleaner now. Repaired, even. Sam sat reading a tattered book. Her eyes narrowed when she saw them.
"I was worried, Jack. And why did you bring back a muscular whore?" she snapped.
"Ohhh... is this... your sister? She's a cutie, but got a dirty mouth," Jessica slurred, then vomited on the floor and passed out.
Sam looked horrified. "Jack, your whore puked on our clean floor!"
"Don't… be mad… Enjoy life… There's your food…" Jack mumbled before vomiting and collapsing beside Jessica.
Sam sighed, grabbed a cloth, and cleaned up. Then she pulled a blanket over the two of them and ate her meal quietly. She washed the plate, blew out the candles, and lay on the floor under her own blanket.
Is this... what a family is? If so... I want to live like this forever. It's fun, she thought, smiling as sleep claimed her.
Meanwhile, in the noble estate, the clang of swords echoed in the night. Joshua lunged high, bringing his blade down in a wild arc. Percival parried with one hand, unbothered, then front-kicked Joshua across the field.
The young werewolf slid back, landing on his feet, breath heaving, sweat pouring, his green eyes glowing and his fangs exposed.
"Joshua," Percival said calmly, "you've learned to keep your sanity. But your moves are still too animalistic. Too flashy. Easy to read."
Joshua stood straighter, fire still in his gaze.
"Again," Captain Percival commanded, raising his sword.
And under the moonlit sky, their swords met once more.