Bab 50: The weakest in A rank

Hugo's draped his bag over his shoulder and he looked around, navigating his way around City F, or at least trying to.

'Why can't I seem to find it? I used the map, it's only a distraction though.'

Hugo didn't voice out his thoughts, mostly because some people would try to take advantage of him, therefore, resorting to the use of violence to handle the matters.

He tapped the holographic screen multiple times but the screen only froze due to fast continuous tapping.

And soon enough, his pride surrendered.

"Hello, do you know the location of Kiter's residence?"

He asked multiple times before he received any useful information. It was a pain in the butt; asking around for directions but it was still more effective than banging into things like a headless chicken.

"Oh, that Kiter? Just go to Shooter's Park, that's his place. The entire park belongs to him."

A kind adolescent youth gave the only useable information gotten from his efforts. Most of that didn't matter though. What mattered was the first words he said.

Multiple other people said those words and not with admiration.

"Phew, found it."

He sighed a little and stared at the gates of the park, not knowing what to expect. The name was weird, Shooter's Park. But he could get a lot of information and guesses from it.

"I mean, it could be a place where they're a lot of shooters. Or a place he uses to practise his shooting."

However, hypothesizing and guessing is still not a match for actual results.

'Here we go!'

Hugo's expectations could not predict what was to appear the moment the gate opened. In an instant, dozens of guns of all kinds were pointed at him from multiple angles, even ones he didn't know existed.

"State your identity and business!" A mechanical voice ordered.

Sweat ran down his back, drenching him in an almost river-like pool of water. The sight of that many guns was enough to scare any man. Kiter was an old reclusive man who liked his privacy, and he was a gun enthusiast. Major one.

Hugo noticed many guns that he hadn't even seen before and some that had only just been scheduled for release. The sight was so wonderfully scary that he'd forgotten to speak for a short moment.

"Um, I'm Hugo Smithson and I wish to seek tutelage under Mr Kiter's wings." He spat the words out, but only with careful consideration.

The guns didn't return to their hiding spots immediately and instead swivelled slightly as if thinking about what to do.

"You may come in!"

The voice commanded, but the guns still didn't disappear. This simple act of consciousness awarded Kiter with a part of Hugo's respect.

'I've never been one to offer my respect so easily, considering my strength and status. But this guy used his territorial advantage to the fullest. As long as I'm within this so-called park, my life lies at the tip of his fingers.'

Much like the guns, the sweat still lingered but everywhere. And like the sweat that lingered everywhere, guns and every form of projectile ever known to man were strewn across the floor of the park, like it was just trash.

And in the middle of the guns and weapons was a huge house, old-fashioned maybe, but the house was huge.

Two stone gargoyle statues were situated in front of the house as if they were some sort of guardians that could wake up to deter intruders at any time.

But Hugo wasn't dumb, conclusions and analysis were his things. And thinking of the conclusion gave him goosebumps.

'Eek, he probably rigged those things with a lot of guns and weapons.'

"What do you think of my humble abode?"

Hugo's lips twitched upon hearing the words of the man he deemed to be Kiter.

Kiter wasn't that old, but his eye bags and grey hairs made him look older than he should. He was no doubt younger than 50 years old, but he acted far older. His grey hair was once spiky and had a luxurious black colour, but had degraded into a shell of its former self. The same went for his stature. He'd digged up images on Kiter, and they weren't pictures of an old man tired of life.

"What's so humble about this place? It's made in such a way that anyone who steps foot on this land is playing by your rules."

"And you do realize you said that on my territory right?" A breeze swept through the middle-aged man's hair, making him feel more threatening.

"I don't believe you would do that to me. And if you did, you're dead."

Hugo's words weren't subtle, but in his opinion, Kiter's actions weren't very subtle either.

"Hmph. Kids these days."

"So you're one of the 'Back in my days' kind of old men, like Gaia."

"I suppose you could say that, Mr Black Knight. But I'm not that old, nor am I like Gaia, that guy who obtained all the power he has through luck."

Hugo knew there had to be an inside story to his words and when looked at the tired man, had a larger urge to ask about his past.

"What did you mean by Gaia only getting everything by luck?"

"Do you want to criticise me for it? You seem to think everything revolves around you. I hate that train of thought, I also hate people who have God Grade Awakenings but have experienced no struggle, hence, I dislike Gaia. He's arrogant, and that's okay a bit. But you instead chose the path of aloofness. People mix the two up and you might have to, but it doesn't change that I hate it."

"But, before I keep going on about how I hate people like you. Let me get back to my original speech. Gaia has only acquired everything he has by a series of much too coincidental Deus Ex Machina. Compared to people like me who worked from the ground up, he's like a spoilt brat. Albeit, a wise and strong spoilt brat."

The tired old man gritted his teeth against each other and clenched his fists.

"By the time the rumours about me started spreading, I had already finished fulfilling my dreams. And I used that opportunity to dig into some people I couldn't get info on in my previous states."

"Like your mentor, Gaia. At the age I was eating from the trash, Gaia was being called genius. It wasn't easy, finding information from before the asteroid. But I did it."

"The people being praised by society are egoistical cowards and those who hadn't experienced heartache and strife. Hugo, you're different. You grew up as the heir of a rich and influential family, yet experienced more than most did. They have almost kidnapped you multiple times, and you'd been the one responsible for your family's death-"

"Please refrain from mentioning my familial relations, Mr Kiter."

Hugo didn't comment at all while Kiter ranted about his unfortunate life and whatnot, but everything ended when his family was mentioned.

A strange feeling washed over Kiter as Hugo completed his sentence. He hadn't ever had that feeling in his house or near it.

'Strange kid. He didn't comment while I insulted his mentor but the moment I mentioned "death" and "your family" in the same sentence, he lost it.'

"Calm down boy, you don't need to get angry over something like that. I'll help you with what you came here for, and in exchange, you'll change your behaviour."

A flood of weird emotions overcame Hugo in an instant and all the anger he'd been feeling disappeared in an instant.

"Why should I change my true nature for some angry man?"

"Would you believe it if I told you your parents told me to mould your character and personality?"

"I wouldn't."

"That's exactly what I thought, but then again, Gaia did mention it to me a few times. You may not know it Hugo, but you're the reason you are not able to get stronger. You may think you have no enemies, but in truth your biggest enemy is yourself."

Hugo collapsed onto the ground and gave a tired sigh.

"Kiter, can we talk about this tomorrow? So many things happened today and I'm tired of it all."

The long monologue Kiter gave was certainly a huge factor in contributing to his tiredness and that stress became even more piled as he thought about the things that happened on the Hover ship.

"Alright, see yourself into the house. Pick a random room—not too random, and maybe sleep there."

After he guided the boy who was in a dilemma towards the door of the house, Kiter sat down on the stairs leading there and began to think.

'Life can make a man so bitter. I remember when they first started calling me that—the weakest in A rank. People who do not understand the internal affairs of the Association would certainly say that, but it wasn't just them, everyone called me that. Even the Skydancers. Maybe that's where my hate for everything high-strung started.'

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