At the very top of the Red Line—Mary Geoise.
It was the so-called "Holy Land," a paradise countless people across the world longed for. The streets, paved with scarlet carpets, were broad and magnificent; elegant palaces stood row after row, gleaming with gold and marble splendor.
Everywhere one looked, there was brilliance and luxury; even the air itself seemed purer, lighter—so much so that one might imagine they'd ascended to the heavens.
But in this world, the more dazzling the surface, the darker and filthier the rot festering beneath.
As the sun set in the west.
Night descended, and as lanterns lit up one by one, Mary Geoise transformed into a city that never sleeps. From the opulent palaces echoed faint sounds of flutes, strings, and laughter.
Meanwhile, in the dark alleys at the city's edge, slaves who had toiled since dawn were herded like cattle by overseers and guards—shoved roughly into damp, shadow-filled chambers.
To call them "rooms" was generous—they were more like dungeons, cramped and lightless, reeking of filth.
But the slaves were far too exhausted to care. Many didn't even glance at the so-called dinner that awaited them; they simply collapsed onto straw mats and fell instantly asleep.
Only a handful—those still strong or newly captured—forced themselves to stay awake, wolfing down the slop they'd been given.
Among them was a sixteen-year-old boy—Inazuma.
Wilted cabbage stems, chunks of greasy fat, and moldy black bread—mixed together into something that could barely be called food. It smelled rancid, almost nauseating. But when one was starving, even that became a feast.
The boy seized his bowl eagerly and devoured it in great gulps. In just moments, it was empty. He even licked the bottom clean, unwilling to waste a drop.
"Damn, kid…"
A hoarse voice came from nearby. "You actually look like you're enjoying that crap?"
Inazuma turned instinctively toward the sound. Sitting beside him was a bald giant of a man, at least five or six meters tall, his face crisscrossed with scars. He was staring at the boy in disbelief.
"I was just really hungry," Inazuma said sheepishly, scratching his head. "And honestly… it's not that bad. Better than what I was eating before they caught me, at least."
"Where're you from?"
The giant bald man raised an eyebrow, eyeing the strange boy—half of his hair golden, the other half white, with a lightning-shaped scar carved into his forehead.
"The South Blue. The Kingdom of Gamu."
"Ah. No wonder."
The giant bald man nodded knowingly and didn't press further.
He, too, was from the South Blue, and he'd heard of the Kingdom of Gamu.
Years ago, its grand duke had offended a Celestial Dragon during the Reverie. As punishment, the heavenly tribute demanded by the World Government had been doubled. The already-poor kingdom fell into ruin.
Within just a few years, the population was cut in half. The royal family—including the grand duke himself—were dragged from their palace and beheaded by enraged citizens, their heads hung upon the city gates. The uprising was soon crushed by the Government, leaving the land strewn with corpses and the survivors starving and homeless.
So perhaps, in a twisted way, ending up as a slave was a kind of mercy for this boy—it meant he was still alive.
Watching the boy still rubbing his belly, the bald giant shook his head and handed over his own half-full food bowl.
Inazuma's eyes lit up. He thanked him and eagerly took the bowl, burying his head to eat, displaying an astonishing appetite that didn't match his skinny physique at all.
The bald giant just sat there, rubbing his aching shoulder, smiling faintly as he watched. His gaze softened—perhaps because, for a fleeting moment, he saw the shadow of the son he'd lost to the Celestial Dragons' dogs the year before.
A short while later, the boy finished the last scraps, wiped his mouth, and let out a loud, satisfied burp.
Seeing the bald giant staring at him, the boy gave a shy smile and carefully placed the empty bowl back by the man's side. As he turned, he happened to notice another "roommate" sitting in the corner—one who looked a little strange.
It was a young man, maybe in his early twenties. His beard was long and unkempt, as if he hadn't shaved in years. His eyes were sunken, his body so thin it seemed only skin and bone.
He hadn't touched his dinner, nor had he lain down to sleep. Instead, he half-sat in the corner, staring blankly at a worn-out photograph in his hand. Every so often, the corners of his lips would lift faintly, as if he were lost in some beautiful dream.
"What's wrong with him? He was like that last night too… doesn't he ever get hungry?"
Inazuma couldn't hold back his curiosity and quietly whispered to the bald giant beside him.
"Don't bother with him."
The man glanced over briefly, then withdrew his gaze and muttered, "That guy's name is Tesoro. He's been like that for five years now. When he first got here, he was full of fight—went around asking every other slave if they'd seen a girl named Stella."
"And then?"
"Then?" The giant's voice was flat, like he was talking about something trivial. "That girl got tossed into the arena by the Celestial Dragons and fed to the lions. After that, he turned into what you're looking at now—not quite a man, not quite a ghost."
Inazuma fell silent, pity stirring in his chest. He moved over, wanting to say something comforting, but Tesoro didn't even lift his eyes. He just kept staring at that photo, lost in his daze.
Helpless, the boy went back to his own spot, rubbing his messy hair in frustration.
"Go to sleep. Don't waste your energy," the bald giant grumbled as he lay down, waving a hand. "We've got to be up by six tomorrow to start work. If you don't rest enough, you'll slip up and get the whip again."
"Oh…"
Inazuma obediently lay down—then immediately flinched and hissed in pain, bolting upright again.
"Got whipped this afternoon?"
Without turning around, the giant casually tossed a small cloth pouch toward him. "Ground thunderworm powder. Not as good as real medicine, but it'll help a little. Rub it on yourself."
Inazuma hurriedly caught it, fumbling to open it, when the giant's lazy voice came again:
"With that scrawny body of yours, if you keep doing this kind of work and taking beatings every day, you won't last till the end of the year. Next month, one of the Celestial Dragons' estate stewards will come to pick workers. Make sure you clean yourself up when the time comes—maybe you'll get chosen."
"The Celestial Dragons' estates?"
Inazuma froze. "If I go there… what kind of work would I do? Would it be any better?"
"Gardener, servant, kitchen hand—whatever they need, you do it."
The giant yawned loudly, a bitter laugh escaping his throat. "If you're clever and obedient, you'll just get whipped less, that's all. 'Better'? Forget it. How good could it get? Remember this—once you've come here, this kind of life has no end."
After saying that, he said no more. Soon, his deep, rumbling snores filled the room.
Inazuma silently spread the powder on his wounds, then carefully folded the pouch and tucked it back into the giant's pocket. Hugging his knees, he lay down on his thin straw mat.
Night had deepened; the lamps were out. The cell was dark, filled only with the sounds of breathing and snores.
The boy stared toward the pitch-black corridor, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
Will life really go on like this forever?
Then again, it probably didn't matter. Out there was just another, bigger prison.
He only wondered how his mother and younger siblings were doing—those he'd lost while running for their lives.
If I could…
Before I die… I just want to see them again.
Even if it's just once… that would be enough…
In his memory—
That night they were separated seemed just like this one. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, leaving the world in pitch darkness. Only in the distance, the village was burning, its flames flickering against the night sky.
Flames?
Inazuma suddenly froze, staring wide-eyed at the faint, flickering glow reflected on the dark wall.
Where is that firelight coming from?
The boy jolted awake, sprang up, strained to stand on tiptoe, and looked out through the barred iron window. His pupils reflected the raging flames rising among the row upon row of prosperous buildings in the distance.
...
"Fire! There's a fire in the southern district!"
"The northern side's burning too!"
"Damn it! Someone must have set the city ablaze! Search everywhere—find them!"
...
BOOM!
A deafening crash shook the cell as the iron door was kicked clean off its hinges.
Two guards who had rushed to block the entrance barely had time to gasp before a massive red fist slammed into them. They screamed, bodies flung through the air, hitting the wall and collapsing unconscious.
Through the smoke and fire, a towering red-skinned fish-man bent down and roughly snatched a ring of keys from the guards' belts.
Then, without hesitation, he charged down the dark corridor.
Moments later—
The prison doors burst open, and a crowd of slaves stumbled out.
They supported one another, following behind the fish-man, staring blankly at the burning city before them. The blaring alarms, the distant screams, the chaos of it all—it left them completely stunned.
Inazuma was among them.
"This… this isn't a dream. Someone really came to save us…"
The bald giant beside him pinched his arm hard, disbelief still plastered across his scarred face.
He'd been half-asleep when the boy had shaken him awake, ready to curse—only for a huge, red-skinned fish-man to crash through the door. Before he could react, the stranger had single-handedly knocked out every guard and freed them all.
"Hey! Big guy!"
The bald man couldn't hold back and shouted toward the fish-man's back. "Who the hell are you?! At least tell us your name!"
"That doesn't matter—ask me later!"
Around them, countless slaves fell to their knees, tears streaming down their faces as they bowed to their savior. But Fisher Tiger quickly pulled up the nearest few, roaring:
"Get up, all of you! This isn't the time for that! Tell me—among you, who can still fight?"
"Fight? Hell yes, I can!"
The bald giant laughed heartily, clenching his fists and swinging them through the air. "I'm a descendant of the Giants! And I just ate a full meal—I've got plenty of strength to burn!"
You literally gave me half your food… how are you full? Inazuma thought silently, glancing at him. Then, gritting his teeth, he raised his hand high.
"Me! I can fight too!"
"Me too!"
"Count me in, savior!"
Voices erupted all around—booming like thunder—as one by one, the freed slaves stood tall, ready to fight for their freedom.
Not only the young and strong men, but even some girls and elderly people flushed with excitement and raised their hands high.
"Good. Then move—now!"
Fisher Tiger lifted the torch high above his head and roared with commanding fury:
"Split up! One group—go set more fires in the nearby streets! The rest—follow me! We're freeing every last prisoner in this city as fast as possible!"
"Understood!"
"Leave it to us, savior!"
...
Some took torches from the fish-man's hand and dashed off into the burning streets.
Others followed Tiger, charging toward the other prison blocks.
At several intersections, when guards came chasing, some of the freed slaves even split off voluntarily to fight them back.
After years trapped in this living hell, tormented and broken, now that the chains had finally been shattered and freedom was within reach—
Even the most timid could summon astonishing courage.
...
BOOM!
Another thunderous crash echoed through the night as a massive iron gate was kicked open.
"Hah! I could get addicted to this feeling!"
Standing in the doorway, urging the slaves to rush out, the bald giant threw back his head and laughed, turning to shout:
"Hey! Little Inazuma! How many groups have we freed so far?"
"The fifth!"
Inazuma replied without hesitation—he remembered every one clearly.
More than half an hour had already passed. The entire Mary Geoise was now in utter chaos. According to their savior, they had only about thirty minutes left before they had to stop rescuing and begin full evacuation.
BANG!
The door to the nearby guardroom burst open. Tesoro stuck his head out, eyes wide with surprise and excitement.
"Hey! Big guy! There are tons of guns in here—at least a hundred!"
"Guns?"
The bald giant's eyes gleamed, his grin growing wider.
"Now that's what I'm talking about! Quick, Tesoro—hand them out! With these, taking down the guards will be a hell of a lot easier!"
"No problem!"
Tesoro hurried back inside, his hands trembling, eyes shining with fierce, feverish light.
Inazuma scratched his head, puzzled. This guy—just a little while ago, he was slumped in a corner, numb like a corpse… and now he looks more fired up than anyone else.
...
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