Awakening in the Backstreets

"Hic... Sniff..."

Overwhelmed with emotion, tears streamed down Shirone's face as he squeezed his eyes shut and ran forward.

He had to run—there was no other way to endure the overwhelming feelings coursing through him.

Though he was once again bound by his physical body, his mind remained free, holding onto that fleeting moment of liberation.

"I am free."

He had no idea how much time had passed.

Even with his eyes open, Shirone couldn't see what was ahead—until a sudden, dull impact struck his face.

"Ugh!"

He fell backward onto the ground. Looking around, he realized he had somehow ended up in a filthy alleyway.

"How did I get here?"

The emotions from earlier had been so intense that he couldn't even recall what had happened just moments ago. But now, reality came crashing back.

"What the hell? So annoying."

A group of thugs loomed over him, their predatory gazes locked onto their newfound prey.

One of them, the man Shirone had accidentally bumped into, grabbed him by the collar.

"What's your deal, huh? Are you crazy?"

"I-I'm sorry."

"Oh, you think 'sorry' cuts it? Be honest—who sent you? Was it Wolf's gang? Were you trying to take me out just now?"

"No! I swear, it was an accident!"

But the thugs could tell just by looking into Shirone's eyes.

This kid—who looked almost cute even while sprawled on the ground—wasn't the type to wield a knife, let alone have the guts to throw a punch.

That only left one option: rob him.

Yet, judging by his clothes, he didn't seem to have any money.

Still, something about his appearance stood out—he had an air of nobility, despite being dressed plainly. If they sold him off in the slums, he could fetch a decent price.

"Just a commoner. No need to worry about consequences."

Just as they were thinking that, a female voice called out from the alley's entrance.

"What are you guys up to? Something fun?"

The thugs immediately turned.

"Lady Amy!"

Shirone, too, looked at the newcomer, feeling like a savior had appeared.

"She's... young."

The girl standing there, with her crimson-tinged bangs covering one eye, looked to be around his age.

"Hehe, what brings you here today? Bored again?"

Though their words were casual, the way the thug clasped his hands together as he approached her was full of deference.

And rightly so.

This was Carmis Amy—daughter of the prestigious Carmis family, ranked just below royalty in the kingdom's hierarchy.

For a noble of such standing to be mingling with back-alley thugs was unheard of. But for a rebellious teenager bored with her privileged life, this was her form of entertainment.

"This brat tried to kill me just now! So we were about to teach him a lesson."

"N-No! I just bumped into him by accident!"

"Yeah, right. You expect me to believe that?"

One of the thugs lifted his foot, aiming a kick at Shirone's stomach. Shirone flinched and curled up in fear.

"Ugh..."

"You gotta pay up, punk! Where's your mom? Bet she doesn't even care about a brat like you! Go get her!"

Shirone's eyes widened in shock.

They had parents of their own—how could they insult someone else's?

"Oh? Did I hit a nerve?"

The thugs saw the flicker of anger in his gaze and took it as a challenge, piling onto him with kicks and punches.

Even through the pain, Shirone didn't understand why they avoided hitting his face.

That's when Amy finally spoke up.

"Enough. You'll kill him at this rate."

At her command, the thugs immediately backed off.

Amy jumped down from a wooden crate and walked up to Shirone.

"You okay?"

"I... I didn't do anything wrong."

"Who said you did? I asked if you're okay."

"I... don't know."

Amy studied his face intently.

"Don't act like you've lost everything over this. My life is way harder than yours."

To others, she must have looked like a privileged noble, living an effortless life.

"I work harder than any of you, yet sympathy and kindness always go to people like you instead."

Her rebellion against society had led her to conquer the underworld, proving that even in the slums, she was superior.

And yet, she had just witnessed something unexpected.

"So… what now? Any more fun ideas?" she asked, turning back to the thugs.

Shirone had expected her to send him home. His heart sank.

The thugs, however, knew her well enough to respond smoothly.

"We were thinking of robbing him first, then selling him off as a male prostitute."

Amy smirked.

She had no intention of participating in their crimes—but toying with the boy before letting him go? That sounded amusing.

"Hmm..."

Her eyes roamed over Shirone as a wicked idea formed in her mind.

"If you're going to sell him, he should be in perfect condition. Why don't we strip him down and check?"

She had recently become curious about such things. And if he was just a commoner, there was no need to worry about consequences.

"Besides… he's kinda good-looking, isn't he?"

His features were surprisingly refined.

"Go on. Take off your clothes. Who knows? Maybe if you do as you're told, I'll let you go home."

Shirone's mind went blank.

He couldn't believe this was really happening. The people in front of him looked like demons.

"How… how can you do this? This is evil."

"Haven't you learned yet? This is how the world works. You're weak, so you suffer. Everyone looks out for themselves."

The gang leader sneered.

They liked to think they understood cruelty—that being cynical made them smarter than others.

But Shirone knew better.

"You don't have a clue."

Real cruelty. Real suffering.

"You've never seen it."

"Hey, the lady told you to strip! Want another beating?"

Silence.

For some reason, Shirone stopped reacting.

Amy suddenly felt uneasy.

"Did he snap?"

But he hadn't.

Instead, he was entering a heightened state of awareness—Spirit Zone.

Everything around him became painfully clear. He could almost hear the thugs blinking.

He let his consciousness flow, guided by instinct, until it landed on a memory—Alpheas, the magic instructor, casting a spell.

"Ah…"

He absorbed every detail: emotions, sensations, posture, intent.

The information flooded his mind, forming endless patterns—until he grasped its core essence.

"You little—! Hurry up and—"

The thug grabbed Shirone's collar and shook him.

For a moment, Shirone almost lost focus.

Spirit Zone demanded absolute concentration. Any external shock could snap him out of it.

But then, his gaze shifted.

Amy sensed it immediately.

"Wait! Stop!" she shouted.

But it was too late.

Shirone's will had already bent the natural order.

Boom!

A powerful gust of wind exploded outward, lifting everything in the alley—crates, stones, the thugs… even Amy.

"Aaaaah!"

When Shirone came to his senses, he saw the alley empty—then heard the screams as people crashed back down.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound of bones snapping echoed.

Amy, however, landed gracefully.

She gripped her skirt, staring at Shirone in shock.

"What… the hell are you?"