"As a meteorite falls onto the Galte continent, a conspiracy plotted for a thousand years begins to culminate at this very moment. With mankind, beasts, gods, and demons each harboring their own secret schemes, whether the Galte continent will greet an apocalypse or rebirth under the rotation of the wheels of fate? All this will be controlled by me, single-handedly!" Or "With a falling meteorite on the Galte continent, a millennium-long conspiracy is now reaching its climax. As humans, beasts, gods, and demons separately nurse their private plans, will it be the end of the world or a new beginning for the Galte continent in the spin of destiny's wheels? All these will be manipulated solely by me!" Or "As a meteorite descends onto the Galte continent, a thousand-year-old scheme starts to unfurl its endgame. With humans, creatures, divinities, and devils each having their own hidden agendas, will the turn of fate's gears bring annihilation or renewal to the Galte continent? Everything will be under my very own control!"
Night, the synonym for tranquility, even those brightly lit and bustling streets, are resting up under the quiet. The southwest corner of Plundras' old city distric, most of the people living here are destitute. A day of toil sends people to sleep early, and the nights are even quieter and darker here...
"Whimper..." The sound of sobs came from an ordinary residential house. This sound couldn't alarm others, not because it was small, but because this was something all too common in the old district.
The dim candlelight in the room flickered, a young boy of four or five, clad in patchwork clothes, with a head of red hair, stood bedside. The boy held a bowl of rice soup in his hands, with only a few grains of rice floating on top, as he stood near the bedhead with reddened eyes.
"Mommy...have a little bit..." The boy choked up, pleading with his mother laying on the straw mat.
The woman on the bed was still youthful, appearing only in her mid-twenties. However, due to long-term malnutrition and hard labor, her cheeks were somewhat hollow, her face was sallow, and even her golden hair had a layer of gray.
The woman seemed not to hear the boy's words. She didn't respond to him, her body remained still like a statue, except for the pair of soft, brown eyes. Except, the eyes were not on the boy, but on a picture frame in her hands.
In the picture frame was an image of her and another man, a man with blood-red hair. His appearance was impeccable, the lines of his face refined and meticulous, so perfect that even women would be envious. His sly smile would cause a flutter in the heart of any woman who saw it.
"Mommy, you need to eat...it's getting cold..." The boy said again, with utmost care, he handed the already-cooling rice soup, which he'd been waiting a long while with, over to his mother.
His mother though, still did not take the bowl, or perhaps, did not even see it. The boy held out the bowl steadfastly, yet with his arms stretched out, coupled with the weight of the soup, his hands began to shake with sour pain.
"Drip." A drop of soup splashed from the bowl due to the trembling arms, landing on the face of the man in the photograph. At this instant, the previously soft eyes of woman widened dramatically; the calmness quickly replaced by terror. She swatted away the boy's arm holding the soup with a fling of her hand, wiping the photograph with her sleeve.
Accompanying a shattering sound, the soup splashed all over the floor, and the last bit of warmth was swallowed by the cold ground.
The tears in the boy's eyes could no longer be held back. He knelt down, circled his arms around his knees and started crying bitterly. Since his mother fell seriously ill, she hadn't been the same. She had stopped caring for him, spending the entire day gazing at the photograph, neither eating nor drinking.
The boy cried, but he never received any comfort from his mother, it seemed that the mother who used to make him smile all the time was no longer there.
"Why is it like this..." the boy wondered while crying, at his young age, he attributed all his current happenings to his mother's illness.
"Yes, it must be because mommy is sick that's why she is ignoring me, once mommy gets better, everything will be fine!" The boy thought, easing a bit of his sadness. He consoled himself, reminding himself not to be willful, he just needed to hold on.
However, just as he was about to stand up and clean up the spilled rice soup and shattered bowl scattered on the ground, a sound reached his ears.
"Clatter..." The sound wasn't loud, but it was very clear. The boy hastily lifted his head towards the sound, only to see a picture frame lying in front of him, the sound being that of the glass used to protect the photo inside shattering.
"Isn't this mom's favorite thing?" The boy was taken aback. This was the most cherished possession of his mother. He had seen her staring blankly at the people in the photo on more than one occasion.
"How did it break?" The boy quickly looked at his mother, but when he lifted his head and saw his mother on the sickbed, his little heart seemed like it was tightly gripped by an invisible hand. Unknown to him, his mother's eyes were already closed, and her hand was hanging off the side of the bed, swaying slightly.
At that moment, a gust of chilling wind blew open the window and entered the room, extinguishing the remaining candle, and instantly throwing the room into darkness.
A pair of eyes suddenly opened, they were light golden eyes full of fear, followed by a frail body that shot upright.
A hand covered the fear-filled eyes. Amid the hurried breaths, the boy's voice sounded, "Haven't dreamt of this in a long time... What's happening to me? Right, today is mother's death anniversary..."
Looking at the faintly lit sky outside, the boy rolled off the bed...
Compared to the tranquility of the night, the people of the old city always wake up early, even on heavy snowfall days, they are not an exception. Just as it became light, many people were already out to work, and the boy also left home early.
"Little Star Scar, you're up pretty early today?" A man in his forties, slightly thin, but with a kind smile on his face greeted the boy.
Star Scar nodded politely at the man, saying, "Good morning, Uncle Joseph! Had something to take care of today, so decided to head out to work early."
"I see, you better get going then." Joseph said with a smile.
"Right, I better get going!" Smiling, Star Scar waved and started running towards the distance.
"Uh huh, remember to slow down! The ground is slippery due to the heavy snow," Joseph laughed.
Watching the boy's retreating figure, Joseph suddenly remembered something and yelled out behind Star Scar, "Oh right! Be careful of those boys from the shopping street, they are looking for you!"
Upon hearing this, Star Scar turned around, running backward while waving at Joseph, "I got it, don't worry!" He said, then disappeared in a cloud of smoke while running away.
...
On this day, it was the first snowfall of the year. The large, feather-like snowflakes soon covered the entire city of Plundra, its streets and alleys. Despite the heavy snow, there were still plenty of people making their way through the white-capped landscape, continuing with their busy lives.
A seven-year-old boy, wearing ratty clothes, shivered as he crouched on the side of the road.
"Kind sir, beautiful miss, I haven't eaten in days, can you spare some change?" His voice, barely audible, was almost drowned out by the blizzard. The little beggar, shaking, managed to approach a brightly dressed man and woman.
Was not this boy none other than Star Scar? However, compared to when he left home, he now looked so helpless, so frail. His fiery red hair was ruthlessly squashed underneath the snow, with no choice but to submit. His golden eyes held unshed tears. The wild wind whipped around, his thin clothing no match for the cold. His small body shook stubbornly.
The man dressed in an expensive fur coat glanced at Star Scar and frowned in disdain. He was about to dismiss the boy, but his new girlfriend spoke up next to him, "Poor child, already a beggar at such a young age, you must have been starving for many days... Darling, let's help this child, okay?" The woman tugged at the man, her aquamarine eyes soft as she pleaded.
The woman leaned onto the man, and although it seemed she was doing so to help the small beggar, she in fact subtly distanced herself from Star Scar. Even though she had demonstrated her "compassionate heart," Star Scar understood that the woman was more worried about his dirt ruining her clothes.
His girlfriend having made her request, the man was naturally generous. Moreover, having such a "kind-hearted" girlfriend was a point of pride for him. He quickly fetched his wallet, looked at Star Scar, then at his girlfriend, bit his back tooth, and forcibly pulled out three silver coins, handing them to Star Scar's shaking hands.
After doing this, the man looked much more at ease. He raised his eyebrow at his girlfriend in satisfaction, nodded toward the three coins in the beggar's hand, and said with a smile, "Darling, he's a lucky lad to have met us. This money is enough for him to eat for a week."
Seeing the silver coins in Star Scar's hand, the girl's eyes also lit up. A boyfriend who spent money generously was exactly her type. She cooed a sweet "Darling, you're so kind" before kissing him on the cheek and shyly burying her face into his chest.
Kissed by the girl, the man broke into a silly grin. Wrapped arm in arm with his girlfriend, they swaggered away, leaving Star Scar murmuring thanks.
Watching the receding couple, Star Scar mischievously stuck out his tongue, before quickly resuming his sad expression to continue his begging. His targets were always young couples, newly-married women in their twenties, or expectant mothers. Thanks to his parents' good looks, Star Scar was naturally adorable. Along with the dirt stains and cold on his young face, he easily invoked a protective instinct in others. All these factors worked well against the charade of generous men, or deeply compassionate women. Star Scar didn't ask everyone for money, but almost always succeeded when he did, and was often granted quite a fetch. Unlike many beggars who asked anyone and everyone, often met with cold shoulders, rejection, or total disregard.
Half the day passed in a blink. Seeing the number of people passing by decrease, Star Scar left the street, heading into an alley between two tall buildings. After glancing around and confirming no one was nearby, he pulled out a bundle from his bosom, his "spoils of the day."
Seeing the bundle full of silver and copper coins, the pitiable look on Star Scar's face vanished in an instant. He transformed into a fervent follower, his eyes glowing as he tenderly caressed the coins in the bundle.
Subsequently, Xinghen began carefully counting his earnings.
"One, two, three ... ten, twenty, a hundred..."
A few minutes later...
"Huff, people nowadays are really getting stingier, only received over three hundred silver coins today, and someone even had the nerve to give me copper coins, sigh, barely over three gold coins. As the weather is getting colder, and fewer people are out, it's getting tougher to earn money." Xinghen lamented. However, if others were to hear him, many would harshly criticize this ungrateful lad. It has to be known that in Plundera, an average family only earns about ten gold coins a month, yet he managed to earn three gold coins in one day, but he continues to complain.
Nevertheless, while Xinghen was complaining, suddenly, rushing footsteps emanated from behind him.