Chapter 6
Castiel tried his best to ignore the glare that his little sister sent him as he peeled an apple for her. She knew very well why Castiel was in the hospital once again. And it definitely wasn't because he came to visit her.
"Hmph!" She only snorted at Castiel as he offered her the peeled apple.
"Cass, don't hate me too much." Castiel knew very well what he was doing and how it would hurt her. "Remember that everything I've ever done is for you and you alone. The only thing I fear the most is you hating me, so please don't."
"Then don't do stupid things that make me hate you! Hmph!"
Phew, at least she was still able to reply to him. But he could only apologize; this stupid brother had no other option but to protect her and save her. It would be painful for her, but she would live. His life was meaningless anyway if she didn't live on.
"Sir, can we have a word?" Castiel turned to a very dissatisfied doctor.
"I'll be back soon. Eat the apple, Cass."
Castiel let out a sigh as he left the room. At the moment, he was very annoyed that the bullet was only close to his heart but didn't hit it and didn't even damage any important organs. He really thought at that moment that he was a goner.
But the moment he felt the bullet in his chest, and his heart still beating as usual, he knew that he would live. Though he was glad there wasn't any more damage to his body. Being discharged from the Marines due to an injury would ruin all his plans.
Before the doctor could say anything, he knew where the talk would go. Firstly, the doctor, as usual, would berate him about leaving his room. Secondly, he would try to lighten the situation by talking about how Cass was getting better. And lastly, he would inquire about the money for the medicine.
The doctor was already their family doctor, whether he liked it or not. For the past year, he had worked taking care of both of the siblings. So Castiel listened to his words nonetheless. If the doctor had something to say, Castiel would hear him out because he trusted him.
"I managed to reserve a batch of medicine, but the directors of the hospital will not permit me to use it if it isn't paid for. We still don't know how effective it will be with Miss Cass, so we need to administer the medicine as soon as possible and watch the results."
"Don't worry, I will take care of it."
That was all Castiel could say. That was all he could do. And that was what he had to do. One way or another, he would take care of it. If that medicine was going to save Cass's life, he would pay for it with his own life.
…
Castiel watched the Vice Admiral leave once he was discharged from the hospital. He didn't say a word to her because he never intended to see her again. Neither did he care about her opinion of him, because he would die soon anyway.
Returning to his work, he started going through the paperwork that had stacked up on his table. He needed to fill out a lot of papers because he killed someone, even if it was just criminal scum that didn't deserve a chance to live.
He did the absolute minimum to finish the paperwork. If it were reviewed in other jobs, he would probably be scolded and told to redo it. But there was absolutely no reason for Castiel to care about it in here.
What he was more concerned about was the sharks he hoped would soon show up. All he could think about was the medicine Cass needed. It would cost a year and a half of his salary to buy. And that was without the other medical expenses he needed to pay for.
The compensation he would get if he were killed on duty was worth more than three years of his salary. And Castiel made sure that all the money would be inherited by Cass and her alone. That way, she could receive the treatment she needed and still have enough to live a comfortable life.
After finishing his work, Castiel ignored the stares he got in the office as he started to think about how to hasten the procedure of his death. What should he do? Well, there was nothing he could do but wait, he guessed.
Then, while acting as a victim of loan sharks, he would conduct an investigation and start gathering evidence. He didn't need much, only enough to make it all official. And then he would threaten those scum with the law, and he knew how they would reply.
Rats like them wouldn't stand still while their lives were threatened. Cornered, they would bite and scatter. So he had to make sure he was blocking their path so he would be bitten to death. He wouldn't accept anything else.
"Warrant Officer Castiel, congratulations on being discharged from the hospital." Castiel slowly turned to his senior. "I need you to go over these files and write a report on—"
"Go fuck yourself," Castiel said and turned away from him.
Some curses and threats followed, but Castiel ignored them all. Those idiots could play house all they wanted with each other, but he didn't care. The so-called seniors were still of the same rank as him and had no authority over him.
Their connections to higher ranks or something like that didn't interest Castiel. Neither did their threats about how he wouldn't be able to rise any further if he continued displaying such an attitude toward them. What a pathetic bunch.
Well, it mattered little what they did or what he would do. There was only one thing he truly cared about, and that took precedence above all else. He knew what he needed to do, and that was all there was to it.
But damn, why weren't there any signs of those bastards showing up and putting him out of his misery? It was getting absurd. Weren't those people supposed to care about nothing but money? Surely they wouldn't let Castiel go, even if he was a Marine.
Frustrated, Castiel could do nothing but his job. He had no time to wait around. If that medicine was as miraculous as the doctor said, he had to get it. It might be the only thing that would save Cass.
Taking all the files and documents on his table, he threw them all in the trash. He had no reason to do the job the Marines wanted him to do. He was going to bring down the gambling circle of this island. He had to see how these bastards would ignore him after that.
...
"I don't care."
"That's not how things are run in here! You can't just barge in and demand to run freely. Do you have any idea how much trouble you are causing others?"
Castiel looked at his commanding officer, a stuck-up and muscular young man with fluffy, green, shaggy hair and purple eyes. His only noticeable trait was a Marine cap with an oversized bill that he wore on his head. It looked like the beak of a stork.
"I don't care," Castiel repeated his words. "Then I will be going."
"Wait!"
Castiel didn't wait. Commander Prince Grus, to Castiel, just looked like another idiotic Marine, though he held the rank of Commander, only two ranks below the Commodore. But then again, Castiel couldn't care less.
He had informed him where he would spend his time and what he would do: staking out a few places where loan sharks would be hanging around, looking into them, and trying to find some evidence and other information.
Whether they agreed to it or not, it didn't matter. He was officially doing his duties, and that was all Castiel cared about. It would still count if he died doing this investigation. All that mattered was that Cass got the compensation for his death.
Those kinds of things, like approval, were important only for those who cared about their careers and those who were afraid of failing. After all, all the responsibility for failure would fall on them since they took it upon themselves without the approval of the higher-ups.
Sometimes, Castiel wondered what those idiots would think of him if they knew why he was taking such a risk. Not many Marines Castiel knew cared about anyone but themselves, and those who were different were only newbies whose idealistic world was still intact in their heads.
…
Neat whiskey always hit him right. Castiel found most things too sweet for him. The girls surrounding him were no different. How many of them would support him when he had nothing? How many would care to share their last meal with him?
From his memories as a child, alone in the world and abandoned in the streets, there wasn't a single person who even took a second glance at him. He was dirty, and he was someone whom others disdained even to share the same air with.
Marines were no different. To keep the streets clean, they would kick kids and other people like him out into the darkest of the shadows, where no one could see them or hear them. Those memories always felt cold to him every time he thought of them.
But then there was a rare light in those memories that warmed him, made him want to live in this absurd world. It was the little girl who shared her last bread with him when he was starving to death. That light in his memories was the only thing he believed in, the only reality he accepted.
So he was terrified. If that light were to go out, he would probably go mad. Death was a far lesser price to pay to keep that light shining. And all he needed was that light; none of those fancy, overpriced drinks or those prettily dressed women trying to get to him mattered to him.
None of that was real to him. So he drank his neat whiskey, the cheapest he could get, and observed the trio in the corner of the club he was in. Loan sharks weren't hard to notice; there was a certain air about them.
Castiel had been following them for an entire day now, and he witnessed them getting the money their bosses rightfully owed from desperate people, beating them half to death, whether they had the money or not, and enjoying it.
Castiel did feel pity for those people who were on the receiving end of their actions. There were two kinds of people who gambled in places like that, with people like that watching over them: the ones who had nothing to lose, and the ones who had far too much to lose to care about it.
There was no need to even think about which of these groups was targeted. The more desperate one was, the easier it was for them to fall into the bottomless pit. And those damn loan sharks knew far too well about it and were waiting for them at the bottom of that pit.
It shouldn't be any concern for Castiel, though; he didn't know these people, and to him, they weren't even real. But he did feel pity, as he knew very well what it felt like to be treated like trash, to be at the bottom of the hierarchy of this world, though there was always a lower place to fall into.
So, before he died to them, he would bring them all down. Today alone was enough. He found the people who took and the people who were taken advantage of. He only needed to round up more of them, find out all the names, all the places, and then, even if they ignored him, he would be facing them one way or another.
A.N. As always, thanks for reading and supporting me, so I can continue writing without any concerns, and if you want more, up to seven more chapters, you can support me on pa treon. com \ ironwolf852.