Chapter 10: Laughter (2)

With night having fallen, the number of people on the streets was few. The shopping district wasn't a region to be frequented at this time of day, so not many noticed the altercation. As for those that did, they made it their business to head toward their destination as fast as they could, making sure to avoid all forms of eye contact.

Ryker soon felt a strong hand land on both his shoulders, squeezing down with a strength that made his bones want to creak. The two men that had been on the nightwalker's side had found their way to his, clamping down both sides of the body as they escorted him out the shopping district and toward the city gates.

The guards on duty pretended to have not seen a single thing.

"The gates close in 15 minutes."

The monotonous voice rang out as the gears grinded close. The click had hardly settled when Ryker felt a blow to his gut, his body keeling over under the pressure. The surge of pain was like a bucket of ice cold water over his body, traveling through his muscles, bones and nerves in a sharp pulse.

Ryker couldn't help but inwardly applaud the audacity. The city gates weren't even ten meters away. The guards at the top of the walls could still see them. And yet, they had already started whaling on him.

A grunt escaped Ryker when he felt a fist land right where his bruises were. His ribcage rattled and nearly snapped, air sweeping out of his lungs faster than he could inhale it back.

Shallow coughs left him, the large wooden box on his breaking his fall as he slumped down. His shoulders got caught in their straps, his arms getting pinned upward as though he was being crucified on a cross.

The shirt that had covered his face slipped downward. Like a switch of the lights, Ryker broke out into a fit of laughter. He roared into the skies, his blue irises glowing like fiery, sapphire gems in the night.

The emotions burst forth in an endless tidal wave, his heart jumping with jubilation and his smile widening to the point his cheeks hurt.

The two burly men paused, confusion coloring their faces. The guards on top of the walls and on the other side of the gates were just as confused. The laughter was not coming from the nightwalker, so why were they hearing it at all?

The pale skinned young man was Francis Buderwoerk. If there were three of the most wealthy families to pick out of Smoke Tower City, it would be the Buderwoerk family, the Steward family and the Joseph family. They were all too familiar with this young man to not recognize his laugh.

Francis was just as confused as everyone else, but Ryker's laughter only became more uproarious and less restrained.

It had been 18 years! Almost two decades of his life he had spent slaving after this goal! He did nothing but push and push and push, dragging his weak body up this mountain and he could finally see the journey that lay before him on the other side!

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Shouts of horror and agony cut through the night sky and the booming laughter. The two burly men found their thighs stabbed through by Ryker's sculpting knives.

As they fell to the ground, Ryker rose to his feet, his laughter continuing to resound. Whether by design or coincidence, the small mirror rose with him, hovering to the back of his head like a halo.

They both looked down on Francis, one quivering with a manic laughter and the other calmly reflecting the moon in the sky. It was an oddly picturesque scene, one painted by a life of hardship.

Ryker stepped toward Francis. The nightwalker was even paler than usual right now. Though he had strength of his own, who would feel at ease facing a madman?

Francis took a step back before he could stop himself. He felt like his very spirit was being crushed. Like he was a small beast facing its predator, his palms sweat and his heart beat out of his control.

The spurt of blood was first felt on his shoulder. As though a drizzle of rain had fallen on that region and that region alone, it soaked the cloth of his shirt through. The heaviness of the crimson liquid was so gripping that Francis didn't notice that it originated from his neck until he tried to open his mouth.

A harsh hiss and gross gurgle were drowned beneath Ryker's laughter, his hand still holding the sculptor's knife he used to pierce the side of Francis' neck.

The guards atop the walls were horrified. They couldn't see everything in as sharp detail as they would with the sun still up, but the light was more than enough to understand what had happened. Running through the consequences of such a thing in their minds left their limbs feeling cold.

"Open the gates!"

As Francis fell onto the ground, Ryker had already shot into the distance, his laughter still resounding through the night skies.

The roads at this time of night were already empty and the expanse around the city was mostly flat land. Picking out Ryker even without his manic laughter was all too easy. Yet, it didn't seem to matter.

By the time the guards on the wall relayed what was happening to those manning the gates and the city was reopened, Ryker was several hundred meters from them, his laughter still resounding.

"Dammit! Horses! We need horses! Form a team! We won't see the sun rise again unless we can find that son of a bitch!"

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