Chapter 78

The following day, Anthony turned the page without providing an answer to the inquiry. There was a residence. The memories he had of London City were sketchy at best. Above the collar of his father's lab coat was a picture of his father's face. Apples in the oven.

His cherished childhood pocket doll, which had a porcelain head and was made of wood. The doll had been a gift from his parents, but it had been misplaced for a very long time.

These were the few, precious memories that he was able to save from his childhood; they were like the broken beads of a necklace that had become unstrung. He moved on to a new drawing, which was about more disturbing memories. The storage facility in London where he'd lost everything all those years ago.

The monstrous man with the golden necklace around his neck and the bald head was the one who had robbed him of his entire universe. He consistently depicted him with empty black eyes, making him look like a fiend. That is just what he was. He couldn't remember much, but the black eyes mocking him stuck out in his mind. Little parents, there is no one who will come to save you. You are unwanted by everyone. Nobody gives a damn. Not even your venerable paternal grandfather.

As Anthony turned the pages, he coerced his mind to focus on something other than the current topic. Similar to the phantom words. In addition to the doodles, he had written illegible text all over the margins of the page. Some kept turning up, almost as if they were the only parts of a puzzle that was otherwise incomplete. Aside from conjuring his dreams, his recollections, and his past, he had lost any understanding of what they represented. When he saw the familiar arrangement of letters, his head began to hurt since he had stared at them for such a long time.

CALIBUR FOR W.O.M.D.

It never varied from its previous state. He could not recall any other information about the phrases, other than the fact that they had some tenuous connection to the evening in which M.R.C. had discovered him on the docks in Wessex. He could only recall a few more details about them, none of which made any sense. And outside those four words, the only other thing she had was this one thing. Only a worthless shred of paper remains.

Mickey Cat scratched at the page's margin with his claws.

It was on the very last page, exactly where he'd put it after he'd decided to stop keeping it in his pocket. He'd put it there when he'd decided to stop carrying it. It was the only thing that remained from his life in London, other than a few photos that had faded with time. It was an old euro that had been torn in half and written with two more words and a picture, which was drawn in the shape of a cat.

Assassin Lioness.

The sign that indicated Yoshi or Marble Harper, which was her real name. The woman dressed in black who had shown in his fantasies long before Tattoo Girl or The Dark Eyed Man had done so.

The one who had saved him from the psychopath who had killed his father, only to turn a blind eye as he was thrown into custody, locked up, and forgotten about like he was just another unwanted refugee from over the ocean.

It was the Assassin Lioness who had bestowed this life onto him. This unique opportunity. To be without a home, a parent, and companionship all at the same time. Always a foreigner in a land that's unfamiliar.

Anthony was aware that Marble Harper was portrayed in the media as a heroic figure. It was expected of her and the other strong people in her circle that she would look out for the interests of humanity. Marble Harper was obligated to look out for her best interests. Little boy, if you ask me to come, I will come. I promise.

Anthony had posed the question. Anthony had looked around while he was holding on to the worn euro with the emblem of a cat. But Marble never showed up to take care of him. And Marble was a member of the X Warrior clan. They were heads and shoulders above the rest of us. At least, it is what the majority of people believed. Only Anthony was aware that it wasn't actually the case.

Anthony Clark does not consider the Assassin Lioness to be a hero in any way. She would inevitably turn out to be a letdown. Another one of these.

Mickey Cat jumped up from the sketchbook and took his usual place on Anthony's shoulders after he emerged from the book. You were let down by other people, even by heroes. Anthony retained the knowledge for the rest of his life. Be as tenacious as a bull and as razor-sharp as a blade. That was the person he was at this point. His father certainly would have been pleased with him.