Murim : Struggle of the Weak

Chapter 2: The Boy and the Darkness


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The sun was setting on the grand, traditional school, casting a warm golden glow over the intricate carvings on the doors and windows. The courtyard was filled with the sounds of chattering students and their parents, who had come to pick them up after the day's lessons. The students streamed out of the classrooms, their faces alight with excitement, some laughing and chatting with their friends, others running to meet their parents with a sense of accomplishment.

"Hey, look at me!" A young boy shouted as he ran towards his mother, a proud smile on his face. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and navy blue pants, his hair neatly combed and his backpack slung over his shoulder. "I got the highest marks in my class!"

"Well done, my son!" His mother exclaimed, ruffling his hair affectionately. She was dressed in a traditional kimono, her hair tied back in a bun. "You have always been a hard worker."

"Mama, can we go get some sweets to celebrate?" The boy asked, his eyes sparkling.

"Of course, my dear," his mother replied with a smile. "But first, let's go say goodbye to your teacher."

The boy nodded eagerly and they walked towards the main hall, where the teachers were gathering to bid farewell to the students and their parents. The halls were adorned with paintings and tapestries, the floors polished to a shine. The sound of footsteps echoed through the halls as the students and parents made their way to the main hall.

"Thank you for your hard work this year," one of the teachers said, bowing to the parents. He was dressed in a traditional robe, his hair tied back in a ponytail. "We hope to see you all again next year."

"Thank you, Teacher," the parents replied, also bowing. They were dressed in a variety of traditional and modern attire, some in suits and dresses, others in traditional kimonos. "We are grateful for your guidance and support for our children."

As the children and parents walk out of the school, they saw a group of child beggars on the street. The beggars were kowtowing and begging for a penny, their voices pleading and desperate. The sound of their cries filled the air, tugging at the hearts of those who heard them. Some of the parents look at their children and feel sympathetic toward the beggars. They gave their children a few quarters to give to the beggars as a way of helping out.

The beggars were dressed in tattered and worn clothes. They were wearing ragged pants and shirts that were stained and torn in places. Some of them were missing buttons, and others had holes in them. The beggars' shoes were well-worn and had holes in them, and their socks were thin and full of holes. The children look dirty and unkempt as if they have not had a proper bath in a long time. Their faces were gaunt, their eyes sunken and tired. They held out their hands, pleading for help, their voices filled with tears.

Other parents, however, ignore the beggars and walk by them without stopping. They seem indifferent to the children's plight and do not offer any assistance. The beggars continue to kowtow and beg for a penny, their voices growing more and more desperate. Tears streamed down their faces as they begged for help, their cries filling the air with a sense of hopelessness and despair.

As the parents and children left the area, the group of beggar children came together to discuss how much money they had collected.

They were a motley crew, their ages ranging from six to thirteen years old. The youngest of them was a thin and malnourished-looking child with dirty blonde hair, his name was Li Ming. He was the one who held up a handful of coins and reported on the day's earnings. "I got four nickels and a dime today," he said in a low voice, his eyes scanning the group.

Another beggar, a girl with matted brown hair and ragged clothes, adds her contribution to the pile. Her name was Mei Ling, "I got two nickels and a penny," she said, her voice barely audible.

As they continued to tally up their earnings, it became clear that the group had not made much money that day. Despite their efforts, they had only collected a few bronze coins in total. The sound of clinking coins was the only thing that could be heard as the children counted their money, the silence was deafening.

"What's the point in begging outside of this school?" A black-haired boy in ragged clothes yelled in frustration. His name was Chen Wei, his voice was filled with anger and despair.

"Hey, quiet down, someone might hear you and you don't remember the words of the boss," one of the bigger boys exclaimed, his name was Zhang Wei. He was one of the older kids in the group and was respected by the others.

"Yes, I remember the boss's words that the parents will always project their children onto us and give us money," Chen Wei replied, his voice filled with sarcasm.

"If you know then why are you complaining?" Mei Ling asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

"Look at how many of us there are if we spread out and beg throughout the city. How much more can we earn?" Chen Wei said, his voice filled with frustration.

"Oh, looks like you forgot about the adults," Li Ming replied, his voice filled with wisdom beyond his years. He knew that the adult beggars of the city were ruthless. They were willing to attack anyone who comes into their territory. It was a good thing, the children had all banded together to scare off anyone who tried to mess with them, if they hadn't then what little money they could earn would have been stolen.

"Hey, where is the boss anyway?" Chen Wei asked, his voice filled with concern.

"You know how the boss is," Zhang Wei replied, his voice filled with a hint of amusement.

....

The streets were dark and damp, the only light coming from the flickering lamps that lined the cobblestone roads. The town was alive with the sound of clattering wheels and the chatter of people going about their business. Amidst the hustle and bustle, a young beggar fled through the streets, his face and hair obscured by a thick layer of mud. He was around the age of sixteen, but his malnourished body made him appear much younger, no more than a child around the age of 13. His ragged clothes were torn and tattered, barely covering his thin frame. His stringy hair was matted and unkempt, hanging in clumps around his face. He carried nothing but a small satchel, which held the stolen goods he had acquired that night.

The sound of angry voices could be heard behind him, growing louder and closer with each passing second. The beggar knew that he was being chased, the butcher and his apprentices were hot on his trail. He counted the steps between himself and his pursuers, his heart pounding in his chest. He could see the bridge in the distance, and he knew that this was his only chance.

The beggar launched himself from the bridge and onto the roof of the moving train. The mechanical exterior of the train was a sight for sore eyes, its rusted metal and worn-out gears were a stark contrast to the traditional architecture of the town. The train chugged along the tracks, its wheels clanking and clattering as it made its way through the town.

The butcher and his apprentices reached the other side of the bridge just in time to see the young thief's feet disappear over the edge. They cursed and ran to the other side, only to find the roof of the train empty. The beggar had vanished.

But the boy was not gone. 

No, he was floating downstream in the river, his clothes and hair soaked through. As the mud washed away, the bright red of his hair and the deep purple of his eyes were revealed. He grinned as he gazed up at the sack in his hand, a sack filled with finely cut meats clutched in his hand. "I should get back to the others. They should be back right." The red-haired boy took a deep breath before disappearing beneath the surface of the water, his ragged clothes and stringy hair swirling around him as he sank into the cool depths. He knew he had to be careful if he wanted to avoid being caught by the butcher and his apprentices, and the only way to do that was to stay out of sight.

The boy swam through the water, using the cover of the bridge to hide from view. Above him, he could hear the shouts and curses of the butcher and his apprentices as they searched for him. The sound of their voices grew fainter as he swam further away, and he knew that he had managed to escape.

Finally, when he was sure it was safe, the boy emerged from the water and made his way to shore. He was tired and wet, but he was free. He had outsmarted the butcher and his apprentices, and he had managed to escape with the stolen goods. As he walked away from the river, the red-haired beggar couldn't help but smile to himself. "Let's see, how much everyone else made." The boy whispered to himself.

The red-haired beggar walked up from the side of the bridge, his feet carrying him away from the river and towards the city. He was feeling triumphant after outsmarting the butcher and his apprentices, and he was eager to put as much distance between himself and them as possible.

But just as he was about to break into a run, the beggar suddenly stopped in his tracks. There, standing before him, were the butcher and one of his apprentices. The apprentice had spotted a trail of mud on the side of the river and had pointed it out to his master who waited for the beggar to rise from the river. The beggar cursed to himself, realizing that he had been caught.

Before he could even think about running, the butcher's fist crashed into the beggar's face. The boy crumpled to the ground, his vision going black as pain exploded through his body. He knew that he was in trouble now. The butcher was angry, and he wasn't going to let the beggar get away with stealing from him.

As the beggar lay on the ground, dazed and in pain, he knew that he had made a terrible mistake. The butcher loomed over him, his apprentice standing by his side. The beggar knew that his chances of getting away were slim. He was in for a rough ride.

••●••••●••••●••••●••••●••

The late morning sun beat down mercilessly on the crowded market, casting a warm golden glow on the bustling scene. The air was thick with the sounds of merchants calling out to potential customers, haggling over prices, and the general din of people going about their business. The smell of spices and cooking food mixed with the stench of sweat and dirt created a heady mixture that was both alluring and overwhelming.

Amidst the chaos, the red-haired beggar limped through the bustling market, his injuries causing him to stumble and falter as he navigated through the throngs of people. His left leg was heavily bandaged, the white cloth stained with blood and dirt. His right arm was similarly wrapped, the fabric wrapped tightly around his bicep to hold it in place. The boy's ragged clothes hung off his thin frame, the tattered edges flapping in the breeze.

Despite the pain, he must have been in, the boy did not let it show on his face. His purple eyes were fixed forward, his jaw set in a grim line. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down his face, mixing with the tears that threatened to spill over. He gritted his teeth and pushed on, determined to reach his destination.

As he moved through the market, people moved out of his way, their gazes filled with pity and concern. None reached out to touch and offer a kind word. 

As the red-haired beggar limped through the crowded streets, his injured shoulder brushed against a plain man standing by the side of the road. The man had sharp, piercing eyes that seemed to miss nothing, and in his hands was a strange, crystal-like object that glowed with an otherworldly light.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" The beggar exclaimed, turning around to apologize to the man. But before he could say anything, the man smiled.

"Hmm, I didn't expect a reaction from you of all people." The man said, his voice low and smooth. The beggar's eyes widened as everything went black.

••●••••●••••●••••●••••●••

[ POV Change ]

[ Unknown Location - Cell HGG42 ]

As I opened my eyes, I was met with darkness so complete, it felt like a suffocating blanket had been thrown over me. My eyes strained to see anything, but all that lay ahead of me was a void of inky blackness. I tried to move my arms, but they felt heavy and unresponsive as if they were chained to my sides. I blinked, hoping that my eyes were simply adjusting to the darkness, but the abyss persisted.

Panic began to set in as I realized that my body wasn't responding to my commands. I tried to move my legs, but they felt like lead weights. The only thing I could move was my eyelids. It was as if my entire body had been paralyzed.

I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong with my eyes, but I knew deep down that this was not the case. This was an unusually dark location, one where no light could penetrate. The air felt thick and musty, like the stench of corruption hanging over a noble's house.

I couldn't help but wonder where I was. The possibility of being underground crossed my mind, and a chill ran down my spine as the thought of being buried alive took hold. But, as an orphan, I didn't know much about anything. I might have been in some sort of building that had been designed to block out all light.

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I couldn't shake off the feeling of hopelessness that washed over me. I was trapped in this darkness, with no way of escaping. My mind raced as I tried to piece together what had happened to me. Had I been kidnapped? Was this some sort of punishment for something I had done? The questions were endless, and the answers were nowhere to be found.

In the darkness, I could hear the sound of dripping water, echoing against the walls like a metronome. The sound was eerie, and it only added to the sense of isolation and hopelessness I felt. My clothes were damp and musty, clinging to my skin. I couldn't tell what I was wearing, but I could feel the rough fabric scratching against my skin.

'Maybe there is something wrong with my eyes.'

I thought, trying to make sense of the darkness that surrounded me.

The only thing that can move was my eyelids. I couldn't control the other parts of my body at all.

There is nothing wrong with my eyes.

I thought, trying to convince myself that there was a logical explanation for this darkness.

' What if I became blind..... wait, no don't think like that.'

Think positively, I told myself. 

I repeated to myself, trying to keep a grip on my sanity.

As I lay there in the darkness, my head throbbed with pain as I tried to jog my memories. I couldn't think of anything, as if my brain had been struck by a donkey's kick. The pain was so intense that tears streamed from my eyes. I swallowed the scream of pain that threatened to escape my throat, determined to figure out who I was and why I was in this situation.

Little by little, my memories began to return. I realized that I didn't have a name, but the prostitutes near the dump where I had made my home had mockingly called me Lin Jing or Liánhuā Jing. I thought I was around 14 or 16 years old, but I couldn't be sure. I remembered being a drifter, aimlessly wandering the world like an orphan without parents, going from one place to the next in search of my next meal.

I remembered finding other children like me who had been abused and exploited by adults. With a little convincing, I managed to round them all up into a group. We had found a dwelling that was not the dumps we had regularly stayed at. But even though I now had a place to call home, I still had no roots.

As I lay there in the darkness, I furrowed my eyebrows in a frown. The pain rushed in like a tidal wave, but I forced myself to think. Suddenly, I remembered a man who remained in my last memory. A middle-aged man with a plain face and sharp eyes that didn't match.

"Hmm, I didn't expect a reaction from you of all people." The man I had accidentally bumped into had said. That was my last memory before I lost consciousness and woke up in the darkness.

The man in my memories must be related to why I was left alone in such a space where no light enters. I didn't know the man's name or identity. I didn't even know why he had locked me up like this. It couldn't be because of a grudge. There was no way that an orphan who was just wandering would be the target of resentment so deep that someone would do this.

Don't tell me, I pissed off some insecure young master by talking to the prostitute that has to pretend to enjoy doing it with him.

' That's highly unlikely, there must be some kind of purpose— a goal.'

If my captor had aimed to kill me, they would have already done so. They wouldn't have gone through the trouble of locking me up without killing me. So, they must have some need or purpose for me. The thought that I might be sold into slavery filled me with dread.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts. It made no difference whether my eyes were open or closed, as the darkness remained the same. The only thing that closing my eyes did was to make the pain less intense. I had no way of knowing how much time had passed since I had been locked up in this darkness. I couldn't tell if my mind was still intact or if I had already lost it.

Just when I thought that I couldn't take it anymore, I heard an involuntary sigh escape from my lips. The last time I had woken up, I couldn't even breathe heavily. Now, I was able to take deep breaths, a sign that my body functions were returning to normal. I decided to think positively, even though it was painful to be alone in the darkness without a single light.

The darkness made me think a lot, and my thoughts would flood like a tidal wave, controlling my mind and body. The overflowing thoughts would be enough to drive a person crazy or religious. Even more so for someone like me, who was unable to move. I knew that if I continued to dwell on my thoughts, I would go crazy.

'My name is Lin Liánhuā or Liánhuā Jing or Lin Jing. Oh great, I can't even remember the name a bunch of prostitutes would throw at me for their amusement.' I thought to myself, feeling a sense of despair wash over me.

I knew that I had to keep a positive mindset and clear my mind. But it was hard to do when I was trapped in this darkness, with no way of knowing when or if I would ever get out. The sense of isolation, as if this solitude in the darkness of the beginning, corroded my mind little by little. If time continued to go by like this, it was clear that I would go crazy with my thoughts.

Therefore, I tried to focus on the present moment, and take each breath one at a time. I tried to listen to the sound of the dripping water and let it soothe me. I tried to think of anything else other than the darkness and my predicament. I thought about the memories of my past, the people I had met, the places I had been, and anything to keep my mind occupied.

I knew that I had to keep my spirits up, and not give in to the despair that threatened to consume me. I repeated to myself that I would find a way out of this darkness and that I would discover the truth about why I had been locked up.

As the minutes and hours passed, I continued to focus on my breathing and my thoughts. I knew that the key to survival was to stay positive and never give up hope. I repeated this to myself over and over again, until finally, I fell into a deep sleep.

....

In this dark place, which I would compare to my soul if I was an edgy lord, I had plenty of room to think. I thought about my past, my identity, and who I was. But all I could think of was that I was just a nameless orphan. Even if I were to die in this place, there would be no one to miss me. The group of children I had gathered together for protection would have replaced me by now, and I knew that there was no loyalty between us.

I had no way of knowing how much time had passed since I had been locked up in this darkness. It could have been just one day, or it could have been weeks. The flow of time was impossible to comprehend in such deep darkness. My whole body was paralyzed, and I wasn't getting any closer to becoming Buddha, but I was getting close to becoming a lunatic.

All the activity of my body had fallen to the floor, and I was barely holding my breath. Most of my body's functions were at a standstill, and I couldn't even feel hungry.

As I thought about my predicament, I felt a sudden movement in my fingers. It was proof that power was returning to my body. I couldn't see my expression, but I knew that my face must be glowing with joy or sadness that I had not died. 

Little by little, the sensation of my whole body was returning. Power entered my fingertips, and my sense of smell was revived. The damp smell felt through the tip of my nose was telling me that this place was underground, as I had guessed.

However, the fact that this place was underground was not very important to me. The most important thing was that my senses were returning. My fingers wiggled, and I could feel a cold sensation in my toes. I felt that I was alive, or maybe I was in hell. But it didn't make much difference. My life and hell weren't so different if I thought about it.

It was unfamiliar for me to feel grateful for the slightest sensation, but just being able to feel the fact that I was alive somehow made me feel more breathless. I was going crazy trying to maintain my identity, and if only a little more time had passed like this, I certainly would have gone crazy or I would have made up a few deities to pray to. But I didn't know if I was crazy right now. It didn't matter, I thought. The most important thing was that the sensation of my limbs was returning. With a little more effort, I knew that I would soon be able to move my arms and legs.

But there was one downside. As the sensation of my whole body returned, the functions of my organs were also revived. As the function of my organs was restored, I began to feel extreme hunger. The squeezing feeling in my stomach was painful, but I had endured worse. My mouth was so dry that the wetness of my saliva gave me a sense of euphoria.

It was then that I realized that I was dying. I couldn't eat anything while I was trapped here, so it was clear that if I didn't eat food for a few more days, I would die. There were only two options left for me: go crazy or starve.

Trapped in the darkness, my mind was consumed with anger and hate toward the man who had locked me away in this abyss. My limbs were chained, and I was unable to move, but my thoughts were free to roam and fester. The foul stench of damp earth and mold filled my nostrils, and the cold air seeped through my tattered clothes, biting at my skin.

I couldn't help but ask myself, 'What did I do wrong?' over and over again. I knew I hadn't done anything to deserve this punishment, yet I found myself in this hellish place. The man who had locked me away had not shown me any respect or courtesy, treating me as if I were inferior to an insect.

But why? Why was I being punished if I hadn't done anything wrong? It was clear that the man had some purpose, some clear intention behind locking me away in this darkness. But what could it be? I had no information about the man, no way to infer his intentions or motives.

The only thing I could do was focus on my breathing and try to clear my mind. I bit my lip, feeling the flesh tear and the warm blood flow. The sensation of pain and the warmth of my blood reminded me that I was still alive, and that gave me some small measure of comfort.

••●••••●••••●••••●••••●••

The darkness that enveloped me was absolute, a thick and suffocating cloak that seemed to press down on my chest and smother me. My body was weak and frail, the faint sensation of my fingers and toes the only indication that I was still alive. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, a relentless beast that refused to be tamed, and my mouth was as dry as sandpaper. But despite all this, I held on to hope. A glimmer of light in the darkness that kept me going.

I focused on the small things, the sensation of my fingers moving and the sensation in my toes. These were the things that gave me hope, the indication that my body was slowly returning to normal. I could smell the dampness in the air, and even the moisture rising from the floor. My ears were wide open, and I could hear the faint sound of water running down the wall. This was what I needed most, a sip of water to quell the fire in my throat and the ever-present hunger.

With a sense of determination, I forced my body to move. It was a slow and laborious process, my muscles were weak and unresponsive, but I pushed on. I groaned and grunted, my body trembling as I struggled to turn over. And finally, with a burst of energy, I managed to flip over onto my stomach. The sensation of the floor against my chin and forehead was a welcome one, and I began to crawl toward the sound of the running water.

My body was weak and frail, but my thirst was unbearable, and I would have sold my soul to the devil for a sip of water.

"Huo!" I let out a rough breath, my mouth dry and cracked, my lips glued together. The sound of my harsh breathing echoed through the darkness, each breath feeling like a knife slicing through my flesh. I knew that if I didn't move soon, I would die of starvation or dehydration. So, I summoned all of my strength and willed my body to move.

"Kkeueu!" I let out a groan, like the cry of a beast, as I struggled to transmit the power from my abdomen to my limbs. My muscles were weak and unused, having been motionless for so long. But I pushed on, determined to survive. "Kerhyuk!" I screamed as I finally managed to flip my body over.

I could feel the touch of the floor on my chin and forehead as I shivered at the cold, damp sensation. I began to crawl, wriggling like a snake, towards the sound of running water. My jaw was torn and blood flowed on the floor, but I didn't stop moving. Time passed by indifferently as I finally reached the wall. I hit my forehead against the wall, the impact making me dizzy, but I didn't feel any pain. I stuck out my tongue, touching the wall and feeling the refreshing sensation of water.

"Huh! Hoo-up!" I drank the water desperately, lapping it up like a dog. The water was like ambrosia, quenching my thirst and providing me with a newfound strength. I had found the value of small things in my desperate situation.

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