Kapitel 3: Guardian Of The Orphanage

The men waited in the alley, their initial shock giving way to amusement. The leader, his scar twisting as he grinned, burst into laughter. The sound echoed off the brick walls, harsh and mocking. The others soon followed, their crazed laughter filling the narrow space.

"Look at this little hero," the leader sneered, wiping tears from his eyes. "What do you think you're going to do, kid? Run home to mommy?" The other men snickered at the taunt, clearly underestimating the boy before them.

Turai stood his ground, his small frame tense but unmoving. His brown eyes, usually warm, now held a cold determination that would have given a wiser man pause. But these men were not wise.

With a jerk of his head, the leader commanded his men forward. "Teach him a lesson, boys. Show him what happens to nosy little brats."

But as they took their first step, something extraordinary happened. Turai vanished. One moment he was there, a small figure in shabby clothes, and the next – gone. The laughter died in their throats as they looked around in confusion, their eyes darting from shadow to shadow.

Suddenly, Turai appeared in front of one of the men, standing perfectly still. The man, startled by Turai's sudden appearance, stumbled back a step. Fear flickered in his eyes, a primal recognition that something was very wrong. But when Turai didn't move, a cruel smile spread across the man's face, bravado overtaking caution.

Without warning, he lashed out, his knee connecting with Turai's chest in a vicious blow. The impact sent Turai flying backward, his small body hurtling through the air. The men's grins returned, sure of their victory.

But to their astonishment, Turai landed gracefully on his feet at the far end of the alley. There was no stumble, no cry of pain. He stood as if the powerful blow had been nothing more than a gentle push.

Before the men could react, before they could even process what they had seen, Turai disappeared again. This time, he materialized behind the man who had struck him.

"I can now say you attacked first and I'm simply paying back the favour." With lightning speed that defied his young age, Turai's small fist connected with the man's back.

The others barely saw the movement, a blur too fast for the human eye to follow.

Craaaack!!

The sickening crunch that followed was unmistakable. It echoed in the alley, a sound of bones giving way under impossible force.

The man's eyes widened in shock and pain. The force of the blow sent him hurtling to the far end of the alley, his body little more than a projectile.

Bang! Crack!

He crashed into the wall with a thud, bricks cracking under the impact.

"Ahhh!" A scream of agony escaped his lips as ribs snapped like twigs.

As the man struggled to his feet, disbelief and terror etched on his face, Turai appeared before him once more. The man opened his mouth, perhaps to beg for mercy, perhaps to scream again.

"Wai…" But Turai was already in motion.

Pow! Pow! Pow!...

His hands moved in a blur, delivering a dozen precise strikes to various parts of the man's body. Each blow resulted in the distinct sound of breaking bones. Turai's face remained impassive, almost sorrowful, as he methodically took the man apart.

The other two men watched in horror as their companion crumpled to the ground, moaning in agony. The leader's face had lost all color, his earlier bravado replaced by naked fear. But the third man, driven by panic or foolish courage, lunged at Turai from behind.

It was a decision he would immediately regret. Turai spun around, his eyes flashing with an otherworldly light. In a flurry of movements, Turai unleashed a barrage of strikes that left the attacker battered and barely conscious.

Bones cracked, flesh bruised, and the man's screams echoed off the alley walls before he too fell silent, slumping to the ground in a broken heap.

Finally, Turai turned to face the leader, who stood rooted to the spot, his face a mask of terror.

"Wait! Hear me out!" The leader tried to plead with the dreadful child standing in front of him but it fell on deaf ears.

Bang!

"Fuck this!" Their leader screamed in agony as the first blow met his lower abdomen. Unlike the others, Turai didn't unleash his full strength on this man. He needed someone to deliver his message.

With a grip far stronger than his small frame suggested, Turai lifted the leader by his shirt collar. The man's feet dangled above the ground, his eyes wide with disbelief and fear.

"Listen carefully," Turai said, his voice low and menacing, carrying a weight far beyond his years. "I'm only going to say this once. Tell your boss to back off. The orphanage is off-limits. If he or any of his men come near it again, I'll be coming for him next. And what I did to your friends here?" He gestured to the broken bodies on the ground. "It will seem like a kindness compared to what I'll do to him. Understand?"

The man nodded frantically, his earlier bravado completely gone. A dark stain spread across the front of his pants, the acrid smell of urine filling the air. Turai released him, and the man scrambled away, casting terrified glances over his shoulder as he fled.

Without a backward glance at the broken men lying in the alley, Turai made his way back to the orphanage. The sun had set, casting long shadows across the quiet streets. His mind was already racing, planning for the future. He knew this wasn't the end. The orphanage was safe for now, but there would always be new threats, new challenges. And he would be ready for them all.

As he entered the orphanage, Mrs. Benson gasped, her eyes fixed on his hands. "Turai! Is that... blood? What happened?" Her voice was filled with concern and a hint of fear.

Turai looked down at his stained hands, his mind racing for an explanation. "Oh, this? I... I was helping a townsfolk slaughter an animal. Didn't get a chance to clean up properly." The lie felt bitter on his tongue, but he knew it was necessary. Mrs. Benson didn't need to know the truth, didn't need to carry that burden.

Mrs. Benson's eyes narrowed, clearly not believing his story. But after a moment, she nodded. "I see," she said softly. What could she do, after all? This boy, with his mysterious abilities, had been their protector for years. She had learned not to ask too many questions.

"Come on," she said, gently guiding him inside. "Let's get you cleaned up."

As they walked towards the bathroom, Turai's mind was already on the next challenge, the next threat. He knew his life would never be simple, never be truly peaceful. But as he looked around at the worn but clean halls of the orphanage, at the drawings pinned to the walls and the sound of children laughing in the distance, he knew it was worth it.

Mrs. Benson watched the young boy as he washed his hands, marveling at the contrast between his ordinary appearance and the extraordinary things she knew he was capable of. She said a silent prayer of thanks for Turai's presence in their lives, even as she worried about the burdens he carried.

As the last of the blood swirled down the drain, Turai looked up at Mrs. Benson and smiled, once again just a young boy in a worn-down orphanage.

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