Chapter 6: A Nice Side

A few days later, Kyle was finally back on his feet. The bandages had already been removed, left scattered across his bed.

He looked refreshed—back to his normal self. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was ten in the morning.

He started warming up.

I wonder if they’re playing at their usual spot.

Looking down in frustration.

I don’t need friends! It’s not like I’ll be staying here for much longer. I just need to find a way to solve the problems in this village—then I’ll leave.

Just then, he heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching and a quick knock on the door. It was the maid who entered without waiting for a reply.

“Young master, the letter—it’s here.”

He looked surprised—he hadn’t expected a response so soon. The maid stepped inside with steady steps, approaching him and giving him the letter.

Hesitant, he took it from her, looking lost in thought.

The maid quietly withdrew from the room, casting a concerned look back at him before leaving him alone.

He sat on his bed, turning the envelope over in his hands.

Should I open it?

After a few seconds, he was jolted from his thoughts by a familiar voice drifting through the open window. He winced; he recognized the voice and disliked it. He didn’t intend to answer.

“K—yle, oh K—yle,” the voice called, irritatingly persistent.

Then it continued, “I bet you’ll regret it if you don’t come see this!”

***

Far from the village, at the Dortroforts Estate, a white-haired man in his thirties stood in a vast field, eyes locked on a deer 500 meters away. At his feet lay dozens of long, sharp spears.

He picked one up and hurled it with such intensity and precision that it sliced through the air and struck the ground inches from the deer. Startled, the animal bolted.

Another spear flew—less forceful, just as deliberate. Then another. Each one cut off a direction, turning the deer’s panic into a trap. Spear after spear drove into the earth until a ring of stakes closed around it like a cage.

A voice called out to him, “You didn’t intend to hunt it from the start—you just wanted to trap it?”

Kyle’s father replied calmly, “I didn’t trap it. I only influenced its movements. The deer built the prison walls around itself.”

His younger brother, who had been watching, continued, “Brother, I’m glad we share the same blood.”

He paused, then said, “Wait... if your own flesh and blood—your own son—is suffering, then I’m not likely to survive either.”

He fell silent, then asked, “Do you think he’s alright? You mentioned you sent someone to help him. Who did you send?”

Kyle’s father, uninterested in continuing, took a few steps to leave, intending to leave the deer behind.

“I’m not obligated to answer you,” he replied.

But his younger brother insisted, frustration in his voice, “Why not? I’m his uncle, and I want to know if he’s okay. I’m not like you!”

Annoyed, Kyle’s father decided to respond to avoid more questions.

“The usual keepers, except for Asper.”

His brother looked shocked. “Asper! The crazy Asper! But why him?”

“He’s smart, young, and can handle the job. It’ll be easier for him to keep up with the boy than with the older ones. Kids tend to listen to him,” Kyle’s father explained his reason.

His younger brother interrupted, “He doesn't guide kids—he bullies them.”

Kyle’s father responded, “You just haven’t seen his kind side. I’m confident he’ll do his job well.”

***

A few hours ago, Asper walked through the village, glancing around with an intrigued expression, clearly curious about this side of life.

He spoke with villagers, gathered details on the current situation, and recorded everything in a notebook he kept in his bag.

As he passed the infirmary, a thought crossed his mind: “I hope the new patient is doing fine in there.” Then he moved on.

Later, standing on one of the Dortroforts lands under construction nearby, he paused, deep in thought. He came to the same conclusion as the village doctor.

Without delay, he ordered the workers to stop spreading the chemicals, then returned to the village to continue his inspection.

Under the burning sun, he noticed some bugs standing on plants where sunlight reflected, avoiding the shaded side.

So they’re drawn to the heat… I need to check the infirmary.

Once he reached there, he slipped inside quietly, retrieved the items he needed, and left without being seen.

Now that I have everything… I need to hide them.

After a few minutes of wandering, he found a secluded spot near the lake, where children played noisily nearby.

A flicker of tension passed through him.

It’s always dangerous around kids... but I need to hide them before ‘he’ comes back.

He walked up to the group, noticing that most of the children were quite young, except one boy who seemed near his age.

He approached them and, with a slightly nervous tone, asked, “Hey, mind if I sit here for a bit?”

Ryan, who had been playing, looked up with bright eyes.

Realizing he was from Kyle’s side, he said, “Sure!”

Then he glanced at the items that Asper was holding, while tilting his head with a puzzled look on his face.

Seeing this, Asper said, “Oh, I bought these things, but I don’t know where to put them. I’m a bit lost, so I’m just resting here for a while.”

The other kids turned to look at him. Rock seemed intrigued and suggested, “You could put them in the emergency box. We usually leave it around here.”

Asper marveled at the irony of his luck—he could hide the infirmary items inside the emergency kit.

After organizing everything inside, he suggested, “Well, we should hide it so no one can steal it, right?”

Convinced, Ryan stepped back and jumped up to grab a low tree branch, then climbed and positioned himself, asking Asper to hand him the box so he could hide it in a spot above.

Asper was surprised—both by the height of the jump and how quickly Ryan trusted him.

Once down from the tree, Ryan looked like he wanted to speak, but hesitated.

It should be okay—he’s related to Kyle.

He gathered his courage, then asked, “Could you help me with something since I helped you?”

Asper smirked, amused by the boy’s innocence. “That sounds fair.”

“I’ve been trying to do this move, but it doesn’t work—even though my friend did it easily,” Ryan said, getting into position.

“Maybe you can tell me what I’m doing wrong?”

Asper leaned in, curious. “Alright. Show me.”

Ryan’s eyes lit up, checked his surroundings for space, then jumped and twisted midair—trying to spin—but stumbled hard on the landing.

Asper raised an eyebrow. He asked. “You’re trying to do a full spin, right?”

Ryan nodded eagerly.

“You’re lucky you didn’t sprain something,” Asper said.

“Your stance is off. These moves aren’t about force—they’re about setup.”

He stepped forward, showing his foot placement. “Start with your lead foot slightly off-center in the direction of the spin. So, if you’re spinning right to left, shift your right foot slightly forward and angled left. That sets your momentum without throwing you off-balance.”

He glanced at Ryan and warned him. “These kinds of moves need guidance. Practicing alone’s how you get hurt. Your friend probably had an instructor.”

Ryan went quiet, thinking before he asked again, “So... did Kyle have someone training him at home?”

The question seemed to strike a nerve. Asper’s smile faded, and his tone slightly changed as if he were another person. He looked down and shrugged.

“Kyle, huh... I haven’t seen him in days. Seems like he’s avoiding me. Are you two close?”

Ryan replied hesitantly, “Not really… I don’t know. He played with us and also taught us some football.”

Asper smirked, then put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder and said, “Well, I know where he lives. Let’s pay him a visit, shall we?”

Fortunately, Asper succeeded in hiding the kit, but now what he feared was about to happen.

***

Back at the mansion, a voice called to get Kyle’s attention, saying, “I bet you’ll regret it if you don’t come see this!”

Kyle stepped onto the balcony, curious. He saw Asper smirking, spinning a straw hat on his finger with a mischievous grin.

Then he raised a thin wooden tube to his lips and blew something that landed on the balcony floor before he turned around and left.

Kyle, shocked by Asper’s theatrics, stared down at the note on the floor. Knowing Asper, he felt a mix of fear and uneasiness.

Unfolding the note, he read one line: “Tonight at the wall.” and below it Asper’s name and beside it a smiley face.

Kyle’s eyes narrowed in a determined glare as he clenched the note in his grip, irritated by the sense that Asper was pulling the strings.