Chapter 22: And the World ... Will remember
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Hey there, dear readers! I hope you're all doing great! Just wanted to remind you how much I appreciate each and every one of you. And hey, if this message makes you cringe a little, well, I consider that a small victory! Now, I've been getting some feedback about repetitive words and phrases in my writing ever since I started publishing. Lately, there have been a few more comments on that, so I wanted to explain something. Currently, I'm working on nine different novels, but only publishing six of them. Can you imagine the diverse settings, tones, and modes I have to juggle? Every main character, side character, and even the less important ones, all have their own unique personalities. When I write, I often repeat certain phrases and words to help me maintain the right mood and tone. During the proofreading phase, I usually switch them up or remove them altogether. But you know what? Sometimes, a few slip through the cracks and end up being repeated. It happens, you know? I hope this explanation sheds some light on the issue. By the way, I absolutely love hearing your feedback, so please don't hesitate to let me know what you think about my novels!
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Feitan's gaze hardened, his eyes flashing dangerously. "We don't just train, we prepare for war."
Koshiro, taken aback, took a moment to gather himself before addressing Haruto, his voice firm. "Your anger is just, Haruto. And your resolve is admirable. But remember, vengeance and justice are not the same. We aim to rectify, not to destroy."
The old man's words hung in the air, adding another layer to the tense atmosphere. They understood his wisdom, yet the sting of injustice was still fresh in their hearts.
Haruto fixed Koshiro with a fierce stare. "Justice, then. But with a message. I want them to remember."
Koshiro simply nodded, knowing better than to argue with the fiery prince when his resolve was set. Haruto's anger was a force to be reckoned with, but it was also a spark of motivation. They needed that fire now, more than ever.
Canary, still silent, met Haruto's gaze. His intensity was almost mesmerizing, the fire in his eyes reflecting her own burning indignation. The injustice felt personal to her, a familiar echo of the discrimination they often faced. She nodded in agreement, her determination reflecting in her hardened expression.
It didn't take long for the council to piece together the circumstances surrounding the brutal injustice. Thirty-one individuals, a network of corruption, had conspired to frame the innocent Meteor City citizen. Each one implicated in a vicious chain of events that had led to a man losing his life. Their anger matched Haruto's – a swirling tempest that threatened to erupt. A proposed act of terrorism was debated, an eye for an eye, the council argued. Each life that played a role in the wrongful conviction should be answered by a life from Meteor City.
But hearing the reckless suggestion only served to stoke Haruto's anger. A sacrifice? His people? His lips curled into a snarl, his lilac eyes burning with outrage. Their audacity disgusted him – sitting in the comfort of their titles, contemplating the lives of his people as though they were mere pawns to be sacrificed at will.
Koshiro was quick to intercept the spiraling situation. He halted the meeting, proclaiming he'd handle the matter himself. After all, he was in charge of managing the explosives. There was a murmur of approval from the council, and they exited the chamber, leaving Koshiro alone with Haruto.
The old man's gaze found Haruto's. His youthful face was hardened, lips pressed into a thin line. There was a glint in his eye that was too old for his age. "Well, young prince?" he asked, his tone steady. "How do you propose we deal with this?"
Haruto smirked, a mischievous yet terrifying grin spreading across his face. The mere sight sent a chill down Koshiro's spine.
"We will not stoop to their level, Koshiro. The lives of our people are not tokens to be tossed in some perverse game," Haruto retorted, his voice resonating with authority. His gaze never wavered from the old man's.
A low chuckle echoed through the chamber, originating from the shadows in the corner. Feitan stepped into the dim light, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "A taste of their own medicine, then? I like where this is going," he hissed, his voice echoing with a latent threat.
Phinks shot Feitan a sideways glance, one eyebrow raised in intrigue. "Sounds fun, but remember, we're not exactly skilled in the whole 'justice system' thing."
"True," Haruto nodded, "But we do have a certain set of skills."
The next day, the world was in a state of shock. Thirty-one people, all connected to the unjust trial and sentence of a man from Meteor City, were found dead in their own homes. Beat cops, the judge, the prosecutor, the defense, jury members, even key witnesses – all fell victim to an unknown assailant. The eerie thing was, no signs of a struggle or forced entry were discovered at any of the crime scenes. All the victims seemed to have died suddenly, unexpectedly, behind closed doors. As if death had quietly crept in, claimed them, and left without a trace.
Beside each of the bodies, a chilling note was found: "We'll accept anything you leave here, but don't ever take anything away from us." It was a warning, a reminder, and a promise all rolled into one.
As the news spread, chaos ensued, the authorities struggling to find any leads. Fear gripped the city of Yorknew, whispers of a vengeful ghost from Meteor City circulated among the people, only amplifying the terror.
Meanwhile, in the confines of Meteor City, Koshiro, Haruto, Feitan, Phinks, and Canary sat quietly, watching the news unfold. They exchanged glances, a dark satisfaction lingering among them.
"Guess they received our message," Phinks broke the silence, a wicked smirk on his face.
Feitan chuckled, his voice sounding cold and menacing. "Not too subtle, but gets the point across."
"Subtlety was never our aim," Haruto said, his lilac eyes gleaming with an almost savage satisfaction.
"Indeed," Koshiro acknowledged, the corners of his mouth twitching in an almost-smile. "We needed to make an impression."
Canary nodded in agreement, her expression impassive, but her eyes were alight with a sense of victory.
The atmosphere was charged with a grim sense of satisfaction, a feeling of justice served, albeit in their unique, brutal way. The news continued to play out on the screen, reporters stammering over their words as they attempted to make sense of the senseless.
"And the world," Haruto murmured, his gaze focused on the flickering screen, "Will remember."
The events that transpired in the following days only served to affirm Haruto's words. The authorities scrambled to find any leads, any hint of the assassins. But the victims were chosen carefully, methodically. No connection was made between the victims and their mysterious deaths, other than their connection to the wrongful conviction case.
Public opinion was split. Many were terrified, unsettled by the mysterious and seemingly random deaths. Others saw it as divine retribution, justice finally served to those who had played a part in the wrongful execution of an innocent man.
As the dust settled, one thing was clear: Meteor City had made its point. Their message was heard loud and clear. The council, and the world, would think twice before treating their people as expendable again.
Canary, usually the silent one, voiced her thoughts. "They are scared," she stated, watching the news. "Good."
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