Chapter 125

Click!

I turned on the living room light. At that moment, I heard hurried footsteps running away outside.

I was too scared to check the window, and chasing after them felt even more dangerous, so I could only stand there, frozen, unable to do anything.

After standing stiffly for a long time, I came back to my senses at the sound of Nelson barking.

“Y-yeah, Nelson.”

If Nelson hadn’t been there, I would’ve slept without even knowing someone had tried to break into my house.

Cold sweat ran down my spine.

Goosebumps rose along my arms.

The fear hit me belatedly, and tears suddenly burst out.

This isn’t even Mist Island, so why… who on earth….

“Hmph.”

I hugged Nelson tightly and sniffled for a long time.

Raphael, Oscar, and Johan. It was a night that made me realize all over again how they had protected me.

***

Even the playground in the slums was shabby.

The sand had long since been blown away by the wind, and if you pushed the swing lightly, it creaked with a rusty sound.

And quite often, you could see people getting into fistfights.

“Didn’t you hear that bastard Usher got beaten half to death for messing with Myers?”

Thud, thud!

Tristan swung his fists furiously at the guy pinned beneath him.

“If you touch Myers one more time, your little brother’s getting it next.”

With a bloodied fist after making his nose bleed, Tristan gave his warning and picked up Myers’ bag, now in tatters.

It was the bag that kids from the neighboring block had beaten Myers for and stolen in the alley.

“Y-you… I’m going to report you!”

“Do it! Like the cops are going to step in over a bunch of kids fighting!”

Tristan was a well-known figure among his peers.

Big, good-looking, and good at fighting.

On top of that, he had a straightforward personality and a sharp mind.

On the other hand, Myers was quiet, always carried books around, and didn’t even like sports.

Because of that, anyone who had a problem with Tristan would go after Myers.

Those who found enjoyment in bullying others also chose Myers.

And every time, Tristan would step in and finish it.

“Where the hell did this idiot go after getting beaten?”

Tristan searched the neighborhood looking for Myers.

Then he found his younger brother crouched on the road in front of their house.

Myers was sitting there weakly, his face buried between his knees.

“Hey! Are you trying to show off that you got jumped like an idiot? Lift your head.”

Even when Tristan nudged him with his shoe, Myers didn’t lift his head, so Tristan sat down beside him and checked on him.

Bruises were already forming on his small, young face.

“Fuck. I should’ve beaten those bastards more. You okay?”

“…Mom and Dad are inside.”

“What are those people doing at home during the day? Did they at least bring money?”

“…I think they’re dead.”

“What?”

“They’re both sprawled out on the sofa… I should check if they’re breathing, but I was scared, so I just came out.”

Skin pale to the point of turning purple, limp bodies, and the strong smell of drugs.

Even after reading countless books, Myers couldn’t find the right words for the feeling he had when he saw the living room.

It felt like his body temperature dropped by a degree, and like bugs were crawling all over him.

His heart pounded, and his stomach churned.

It felt like he was being sucked into something black and sticky.

Myers shrank back in fear.

“Stay here.”

“Don’t go.”

Myers grabbed Tristan.

“Don’t go. Let’s just report it.”

“If we report it and they’re not dead, we’ll both end up in prison. It’s probably nothing serious, so stop worrying and wait here.”

“They’re definitely dead!”

“Hey! I’ll be the one to decide that! You just wipe the blood under your nose properly!”

After shouting loudly, Tristan went inside alone.

If he doesn’t come out after five minutes, I’ll report it right away.

One second, two seconds… Mom’s messy hair came to mind.

Dad too, who would scream like a madman when withdrawal hit.

One minute, two minutes… If it’s a powder that brings happiness, shouldn’t the whole family be happy, not just our parents?

It shouldn’t take five whole minutes to check on them, but Tristan was taking his time inside.

That made Myers extremely anxious.

‘Four minutes fifty-eight seconds. Four minutes fifty-nine seconds….’

Click.

Just before five minutes were up, Tristan came back with a pale face.

“They’re alive.”

Unlike Myers, whose heart was still pounding wildly, Tristan looked fine aside from his stiff expression.

“They should’ve taken that shit outside instead of doing it at home with their kids around. Let’s go get burgers.”

“We don’t have money.”

“I took some from Mom’s wallet.”

Tristan waved a few bills in front of him.

Rather than fear of getting scolded for stealing, Tristan’s grin was filled with anticipation that the two of them could have some fun with that money.

“Is that okay?”

“After seeing that, do you think we can just skip dinner? And you. If someone hits you, don’t just stand there and take it. Throw punches back! I taught you how to fight!”

Tristan is strong. He’s cool.

He laughs easily and handles tough situations well.

Whenever he showed such boldness despite being the same age, Myers felt like his twin brother was a huge and reliable presence.

Maybe that’s why their mom called Tristan “Sunshine.”

Because he was dazzling like sunlight.

“If I wait a bit, you’ll go and take care of everything yourself anyway, so why bother?”

“What, do you think I’m your damn attack dog?”

“…Next time, I’ll hit back too.”

“Forget it. Seriously. Be grateful you’ve got a brother like me. Lucky ginger.”

The nickname Tristan used for Myers, Lucky Ginger.

They had no one to rely on but each other.

So in Myers’s world, there was only Tristan.

Maybe naming the drug organization <Lucky Ginger> was an unconscious desire to be recognized.

― I am the older brother of Myers Bernadette, also known as Sunshine.

Seeing an unchanging truth written out in text brought a strange sense of realization.

“Right. I’m his brother….”

Because he’s his brother, Tristan couldn’t abandon him, and because he’s his brother, he couldn’t fully hate Tristan either.

Just like how Raphael can’t hate the younger sister who handed Death Adder’s information to the police.

Sunshine picked up the receiver.

Because of that pointless dream, for the first time in a long while, he missed his brother.

***

Rrrrrr.

It hasn’t even been a day since the phone line was reconnected, but it keeps ringing nonstop.

“Ha. I’ve got a meeting soon….”

He was about to step out to pick up something from the team leader.

But he couldn’t ignore the call.

If it’s from the team leader, not answering would be the bigger problem.

“Yes. It’s me.”

― ….

No response.

“Giselle, is that you?”

― Were you holed up in that small, filthy apartment waiting for that woman?

It was Sunshine.

Tristan unconsciously pressed his palm hard against his face.

“You bastard. How did you get my number?”

― Your home address is basically public information. You’re asking because you don’t know?

“Fuck….”

― You turned my hand into rags and didn’t even say sorry.

“You piece of shit! Someone died because of you!”

A surge of anger rose up to his throat.

If Sunshine were standing in front of him right now, he felt like he’d unload a gun on him immediately.

Tristan kicked the innocent wall and, breathing hard, asked, “Why did you call?”

― …Do you remember that macaroni cheese chili burger we used to eat?

It was a burger Tristan knew well.

A cheap burger smothered in chili sauce, with two slices of cheese and macaroni salad.

“Why?”

― That place went out of business.

“It’s been over five years since it closed, idiot.”

― If I’d known earlier, I would’ve bought it. It was the best burger of my life.

If you tried to eat it now, even Tristan, who was used to junk food, would find it too overwhelming.

But back then, the macaroni cheese chili burger they ate together had been the best burger in the world for Tristan too.

“Then make it yourself. You know how.”

― I tried… but it doesn’t taste the same. Maybe it tasted better because I ate it with you.

“Bullshit.”

― It was amazing with cola too. Don’t you want one?

“Do I look like a kid? I’m past that.”

He thought Sunshine would sound tense, but his voice was exactly the same as when they were kids who knew nothing.

That made him feel like throwing up.

Because those childhood days rushing back felt nostalgic. And because he was disgusted with himself for feeling that way.

How did it end up like this? The same question he had repeated tens of thousands of times slipped out again.

It wasn’t even a question anymore.

It was a plea. And resentment.

As the memory of eating burgers with Myers came vividly to life, it became even more painful.

Tristan pleaded again.

“Myers. Please stop.”

― Brother. Watch your words. You know it won’t work, so why are you saying that to me?

“Who’s your brother. Did you ever treat me like one?”

― Because you’re my brother, I personally went to your university to warn you. Because you’re my brother, I didn’t retaliate after my first escape. Because you’re my brother, I kept it a secret that we’re related. I even kept quiet about you being Black Pistols. What more do you want?

As Sunshine listed them one by one in his usual drained tone, it made Tristan feel like the only idiot getting angry.

Ha, hahaha….

His strength drained along with it, and Tristan collapsed to the floor, letting out a hollow laugh.

He hated him so much he wanted to kill him, and just thinking about him made him feel like he was going insane with rage, but talking like this made it feel like nothing had happened.

Without the slightest trace of regret, Sunshine calmly called him.

― Tristan.

“Bastard. Don’t say my name.”

― …Sunshine.

Sunshine.

The nickname their mother used to call Tristan when they were children.

And now, a name that had become Myers’s.