Chapter 64: Research Center (II)

Marcus took a deep breath upon hearing the question, as if trying to absorb the calm that was slipping away. With his eyes closed for a moment, he brought his hand to his face.

"I... have a rather unconventional opinion. Actually, ever since Clara told me I should let them go a little, I've been trying not to think about it too much so I can focus on my own problems."

Dante agreed with him. He just hadn't expected that pointing a gun at the face of someone he'd just met was "not thinking too much." Clearly, his decision had been made without hesitation, without reflection.

Whatever GreamHachi had done to Marcus, he still hadn't overcome it.

"The city is huge," Jix said, interrupting the two. "I saw it when I was traveling. All the wanderers said they drove people away, but that they're really advanced in technology. Their gate is coated in copper, and when someone touches it, an electric current burns their bones."

Just as he was about to say Jix was telling stories, he heard from Marcus that it was true.

"Clara and I know about GreamHachi because we once tried to go there. I spent years trying to be accepted. I took my father there so they could help with his illness, but I spent practically my entire adolescence taking care of him in a tent outside, in a long corridor overgrown with weeds. One day, my father sent me to fetch water. And when I came back… I never saw him again. People said he was too weak, so he..."

So, it was death. Dante felt his sorrow like a turbulent wave. It was an almost tangible sensation, something beyond words, as if the melancholy was spilling from his friend's eyes, even though he tried to hide it. A tightness in Dante's chest made him realize that this sadness wasn't just from the one carrying it, but also from those nearby, affecting him in a deep and inexplicable way.

This was why Marcus hated that place.

"Marcus." He waited for the shooter to lift his head. "Your father would be proud. His legacy lives on in you, but don't let it all be wasted on something you can control."

"I know. I know," his voice was low. He brought his hand to his face again, turning his back. "Sorry, I just need a moment."

A dry sob hinted that Marcus was crying in silence. He didn't move at any moment, but Dante could see his left hand trembling slightly. He didn't want to keep making him remember his worst memories , it was cruel.

"They never let anyone in because they're a bunch of bastards." Marcus raised his head, speaking firm and strong. "They always called me 'Impure.' They beat my father and screamed that he was disgusting, that he lived in the same place as the Felroz. Here, in the city of Kappz, everyone is an 'Impure' to them."

"Oh, so that's where the term comes from." Jix immediately understood some things. His eyes gleamed with quick comprehension, almost instinctively, as his mind started piecing the puzzle together. "That's why the wanderers said they had to bathe in Lake Grow, up north."

Marcus nodded.

"The lake was known as the purest place in the whole region. There, far from the Felroz, they had a chance to be cleansed by some Shamans from the city of GreamHachi." His face hardened instantly, as if his rage was overflowing in place of his old sorrow. "Damn parasites. Damn them all. They fool everyone who goes there."

"What do you mean?"

"This whole thing about the lake cleansing impurities , I heard about it when I was much younger, before I lost my father. That was when I lost my mother and sister."

Dante really regretted asking about that place. Every one of Marcus's answers made it clear how much he hated GreamHachi. His rage would last a lifetime, Dante believed that. But he hadn't expected that these men, who fought to be 'pure,' had so much filth hidden under the rug.

"How did you lose them, kid?" Jix asked with as much sorrow in his voice as Marcus had in his face. "How did they take everything from you?"

"It was on a sunny day. My mother decided, without my father, that she would take my sister to be cleansed. There was a rumor that women could enter to learn how to knit if they were purified. They traveled north all the way to the lake, and I followed, hidden. Up there, I saw the line of people waiting to bathe. And I waited until my mother and sister were taken into the water. There... they..."

Marcus's eyes trembled. His mouth quivered, unable to finish. His head bobbed up and down, but when he looked at Dante, the old man stepped forward and hugged him. Dante wrapped his arms around his back, holding him tightly as he heard a muffled sob.

He's strong. Much stronger than me.

To endure seeing his sister and mother killed in such a brutal way and still remain alive to tell his story. His father murdered, called 'Impure,' and Marcus carrying his legacy. The raised weapon of a shooter should never hesitate.

He was questioning himself.

Jix also placed a hand on Marcus's head, tears in his eyes. Dante had no idea what it was like to lose someone, let alone all of them.

"Sorry for bringing this up, kid," Jix said. "Really, I'm sorry."

The hug lasted longer. Dante didn't want to let go of Marcus, but he wasn't crying or sobbing anymore. He seemed exhausted, his body more rigid. Memories caused pain and suffering, but they also carried the weight each one had tried to push away for years.

So, he didn't mind letting him stay there.

"I swore I'd avenge them all," Marcus whispered. "I swore I'd kill those men with my own hands. My family could still be alive. They could be here. And I lost… I lost them all because of a dream of a better life."

Dante hugged him tighter. The sadness in his voice was filled with anger and bitterness, you could feel the grip of his hand on the cloak. Marcus didn't just want to vent. He wanted to be heard. He wanted his story to be told.

Those people from GreamHachi had done to him what one man had done to Dante's family in the village. And Dante hadn't hesitated to kill him. A life for his three most precious ones. It was the same principle , blood for blood , and he couldn't judge a man seeking vengeance for what was stolen from him.

He had told him not to raise his weapon against an unarmed person. And yet, here he was, still trying to preach morality without fully understanding. The thought filled him with a certain anger toward himself. He still held Marcus, like a father truly embracing a son, while Jix tried to be as gentle as possible, whispering kind words.

All this time, Dante had been seeing the wrong side of the conflict.

"Meliah Jones is not a friend," he told them both. "We're going to get the Lunar Stone and send the two of them back where they came from. It doesn't matter anymore. After that, we'll improve this city ourselves."

Marcus pulled away after hearing that and didn't give them time to see his face uncovered. He threw the green cloth over his head and fitted his thermal goggles in front of his eyes. Both hands gripped the carbine, and he straightened his posture.

"Roger that, sir."