'I've always hated my mother.'
And he had every right to — at least that's what he thought.
When he was a child, his mother would lock him up in the basement for two to four days, depending on the "sin" he committed against She Who Weaves.
His mother often warned him that sinning against the goddess would greatly diminish his chances of receiving a royal-tier factor — or worse, enrage the goddess enough to not only withhold her blessing but to weave a curse into his very being.
Whenever he fell ill, resting on his bed and unable to attend his private tutoring, Her Majesty would take a bucket of ice-cold water and toss it onto her pitiful son's bed, telling him to quit his laziness.
'Was I wrong?'
Day after day, year after year, the abuse never stopped — it only grew. But that wasn't even all that made this woman detestable.
When Kurokawa was six, the queen had a child, but it wasn't the king's child.
The king refused the baby, and the queen wanted to get rid of her, but the king, being a moral man, refused.
When Kurokawa was seventeen, that wicked woman crossed the line. He remembered that day as if it were yesterday — every single detail. The way his mother carried his little sister while she was unconscious, walking slowly toward the burning furnace as the child's personal maid sobbed, yet did nothing.
He also remembered seeing his mother smile for the first time as she was about to throw the child into the furnace.
Upon seeing this, he did what any seventeen-year-old would do...right?.
'Was I wrong for ending my mother's life?'
A voice knocked him back to reality.
"Excuse me, sir," said the coachman as he slowed down the horse-drawn carriage. "We're almost there. See the sign over in the distance?"
Kuro, seated at the back of the carriage, looked through the rectangular opening. Along the sandy road was a sign in the distance, hoisted above a steel gate.
"Yeah, I see it. And don't call me 'sir.' I'm not of royal blood anymore, remember that."
He then stuck his hand out of the opening and touched the coachman's right shoulder, focusing his hazel eyes on him like a hawk as the man turned around.
"Call me that again and I'll have your head."
The coachman faced the road again. "Yes, Kurokawa."
After a few minutes, the carriage finally reached the gate. Right above the gate was a sign reading "WELCOME TO GREYMAN CITY".
A peculiar-looking man sat outside the gate, dressed in rags rather than clothes. In his hand, he held a tin cup with two silver and one gold coin inside.
Kuro looked at the man and thought to himself:
'This man is obviously poor, but instead of finding something to do, he sits there expecting money to just be handed to him.'
He shook his head in disappointment as the peculiar-looking man glanced at him. To the man, it was quite clear: a handsome young man sitting in the back of a carriage being drawn by the finest horses? Yes, this young man was rich.
The man gave a weak smile to Kuro, extending his cup. However, Kuro just looked at the man and scoffed as the carriage entered the gate.
The man watched, jaw dropping as the boy smiled at him while his carriage disappeared through the gate.
'Sorry, but nothing comes for free in this world. To earn, you must give something in return.'
The carriage entered the gate, and the air itself changed. It carried the scent of smoke and industrial gas — something Kuro was far from used to. The people inside the gates widened their eyes as they saw the carriage entering.
Kuro looked at them, an expression of disgust on his face.
'What's wrong with these people? Have they never seen a carriage before?'
The horses clicked their shoes on the cobblestone path, and the coachman looked back at Kuro.
"Mr. Kurokawa, for how long will you be staying here, if you don't mind me asking?" he said with a gentle smile.
Kuro looked at his peaceful smile.
'Don't give me that fake courtesy. You're just dying to get rid of me.'
But he might as well answer him, even if he thought that.
"Well, it all depends on your king. He's the one who sent me here as punishment. He said the monsters and spirits here will 're-discipline' me."
He looked out the window and saw a kid on her father's shoulders, laughing as if she knew no other expression.
"Honestly, sending me here was the best-case scenario. If it were someone else, they would've been executed on the spot."
The coachman looked at Kuro with a bitter expression. "Your father is a very kind man. You should be thankful for him."
Kuro's eyes dulled. "My father is a fool, and he's unfit to be a king. Kindness and ruling never work well together."
The coachman looked forward again. "Well, either way, Kurokawa, be careful. This city is home to many creatures, and you have not been blessed yet. Remember to always walk with that dagger your sister packed for you."
Kuro sighed, then pulled a novel from his leather bag.
"I don't need a blessing from some goddess to survive. I'm more than capable."
They reached the designated house that was purchased beforehand and started unpacking.
Across the street, staring through the window at a house adjacent from theirs, was a young man about Kuro's age. A frail middle-aged woman clung tightly to his shirt and sobbed, but all the young man's focus was on the boy who had just arrived in his neighborhood on a fancy carriage.
The young man touched the glass of his window as he stared at Kuro.
'I wonder, why did you come here?'