Adjustment Disorder

Zeroc wasn’t lying about the location of the shop. I could easily spot it once I stepped out of the murder scene. At the back of my mind, I was worried about the cleanup, but it would be best if I could pretend this whole thing never happened and leave everything to Zeroc, the instigator. I was only the victim.

The lanterns were still lit inside. Lyla, back in her ivory robe, greeted me from behind the counter with a sweet smile that I hadn’t seen on her before. I didn’t know whether she thought I was a customer or whether she was waiting for me to come back. Judging from her disappointed face right after, the best course of action was to stay silent.

“Welcome back,” she said. Her wistful smile lit a fuse in me.

“Did you hope I would never wake up?” I asked. She could at least act relieved.

“That would never happen. You killed an iron-skinned boar on your own. A hit to your head shouldn’t be a problem.”

Zeroc poked his head into the shop and injected himself into the conversation. “An iron-skinned boar? Not bad.” Were they talking about the oversized pig I took out my anger on because it treated me like a punching bag? Their praise sounded sarcastic once I recalled the sensation of being thrown up and dropping back down.

Lyla’s eyes widened at the blood-soaked Zeroc, which was odd because I also had blood splattered on me.

“We ran into some thugs,” Zeroc explained, and slapped the ass of the unconscious robber he was carrying on his shoulder for emphasis. “Now that I have properly escorted the young lad back to safety. I had to interrogate this lowlife properly.”

He turned around while giving us a casual wave goodbye. I ran out to intercept him.

“Wait.” I didn’t know why I stopped him, but I felt like I had something I needed to say to him. Did I want to spew some moralistic babble? Or did I want to thank him for saving me? During my confusion, Zeroc raised his eyebrows, giving me the same look that one would give a circus spectacle. Then, he tossed the coin pouch to me, and I narrowly caught it.

“Here is your payment for being my bait. Sorry for that.” That might have been the most insincere apology I had ever heard, but having witnessed his superhuman strength, I could only nod in response.

“Why did they attack me?” I finally found the words.

Zeroc pretended to ponder the answer, when I already knew he had it. “You had gold coins, and they were greedy, so they took them by force. Would you ask why a manticore would pounce on a jungle sloth?” Actually, I would ask that, but I got his point. It was such a common-sense question that answering it was a waste of time.

Before I could think of a follow-up question, Zeroc wandered off towards the dark part of the street, a place where I didn’t want the light to reach and reveal the dirty secrets hidden within.

“I’ll ask for your help again, kid.” He uttered what I didn’t want to hear as a side remark, and only the back of his head was visible to me, so I didn’t know if he was serious or not. Instead of probing for an elaboration, I slipped back into the shop. The questions I had in mind weren’t worth poking the bear.

I found Lyla with her arms crossed, a splitting image of an angry mother confronting her delinquent son.

“What happened?” She asked.

I dismissed her question with a wave of the hand. “I would have answered if you had led with that.”

“I thought that was blood from when you collapsed.”

I hated how plausible her excuse was. And since I was the one who asked her to prioritize feeding the kid, she wouldn’t have examined my bruises too carefully. Regardless, common sense should tell her that open wounds would be treated and blood stains cleaned at the infirmary. Maybe I still had too much faith in her.

I clasped my hands together, and my expression became solemn. “I’m sorry for doubting you.” My voice was soft to emphasize how reluctant I was to say it.

Lyla stared at me suspiciously. “Why do I feel you are mocking me?” No, I could assure her that every one of my words was sincere.

“How is the kid?” I said, leading the conversation back to the important matters. Strange that every time I talked with Lyla, our chats always steered into irrelevance.

“Resting on the second-floor bedroom. He got better after I fed him.”

“Where did you get the food? I’m sure our designated meals wouldn’t satisfy his hunger.”

Lyla struggled to look me in the eye as she replied: “I fed him the products in the store.” That statement didn’t rouse any anger in me; there was only a hint of dejected irritation that vanished swiftly. It reminded me of the times when the train doors shut right in my face after I sprinted towards it with full energy.

“All the nearby restaurants closed down. The meal tokens from Mr. Topaz were useless.” Lyla added. The information she provided confused me further, but this time it wasn’t her fault. She was only reporting what she had learned.

“As long as Mr. Topaz is fine with it.”

“The bodyguard said that Mr. Topaz wouldn’t mind. Oh, the bodyguard also spoke with the kid privately for a while. Do you know what they talked about?”

“Who knows?” I sat down next to Lyla and organized my thoughts.

Zeroc must have noticed the discrepancy too; that was why he used me as bait to lure out someone who could provide answers. The disappearance of money was only one of the riddles in the city. Without a source of food, where did the citizens get their meals? The people I saw in the alley weren’t well-fed, but they also didn’t look like they were dying from hunger.

The large number of homeless people also made little sense. The logic followed that if a person had no income, they couldn’t pay rent. However, the soldiers were already stretched thin maintaining order on the main street. What was stopping the people from squatting in the many buildings that had no inhabitants?

It wasn’t like anyone in the city had spare change for beggars, and I was sure all the rich people had fled the city anyway. No one would want to live in a rotting corpse of a city. The only reason there were still soldiers here was to save face for the royal family and continue a facade of control. Losing a city to economic collapse without knowing the cause would be pretty embarrassing.

The kid must know something; so did everyone else in the alley. There was an open secret hidden from the soldiers, and the unkempt condition of those back streets disgusted them too much for them to dig deeper. As a result, they put their focus on the disappearing money, chasing something that led them to a dead end.

At this point in my reflection, something occurred to me. Wait. Why can’t I hear the kid’s thoughts? I concentrated on the image of the kid, but his inner voice was absent. My connection to him should be intact, seeing that I could still communicate with Lyla, but I had to prepare for the worst-case scenario.

“I have to talk to the kid,” I said as I stood up. Lyla didn’t ask me why. She probably sensed that it was something important. We climbed up the stairs in the storage room to the second floor. Lyla showed me into the room where the kid was.

It was more luxurious than I expected, but maybe I had abandoned hope for anything decent since witnessing a shapeshifter’s idea of an inconspicuous guest room. I had to applaud Topaz for the simple yet comfortable setup.

There was a king-sized bed, a gorgeously designed dresser, a spacious desk including a complete set of writing equipment, and plenty of lanterns for lighting. A window overlooking the main street, with curtains set up for privacy. The best part was that the mattress on the bed wasn’t made of wood.

From the moment I stepped in, the kid had already been cautiously observing me from behind the covers. I tried to put on my best smile, because first impressions have monumental value in determining first interactions, especially for children. Moving to the bed in soft steps, I took care not to scare him with any sudden movements. Once I sat down at my destination, my body automatically sank into that fluffy object of dreams, ready to enjoy a good night’s sleep.

Oh no, I couldn’t sleep here. Not yet. I gave my cheeks the grandest slap, all to stay awake. The force I used was certain to leave a mark, but the temptation was too great for half-hearted measures. The kid watched me with confusion. It seemed like my act of self-discipline had successfully lowered his guard.

I met his eyes with a smile, but my friendliness wavered once I noticed his expression of pity. Wait, something isn’t right here. Before I could come up with any theories, the kid gently patted my head and spoke up. His voice was similar to what I heard from his mind, but I noticed he intentionally dropped his pitch when he spoke.

“There. There. You don’t have to hit yourself. Tell big brother your worries.”