章節 3: Chapter 3

Ming wasn't the strongest of the group. He had been born with a weak body, and undernourishment didn't help. His arms were thin, almost frail, and his legs, despite his efforts, always seemed ready to give way under the weight of the hard days. To survive in this place filled with dangers around every corner, he used his eyes, ears, and head as best he could.

His eyes, deep brown, were always moving, capturing every detail of the environment. They seemed able to pierce shadows, to distinguish silhouettes hidden in the dark corners of the city. He could spot a suspicious movement long before anyone noticed, his dilated pupils reflecting the flickering light of the street lamps. His ears, sensitive and always listening, picked up the slightest sounds: the murmurs of passersby, the furtive footsteps of thieves, the rustling of a leaf in the night breeze. Every sound was a valuable piece of information, a piece of the puzzle of their daily survival.

But it was his head, his ability to analyze and anticipate, that made Ming an indispensable asset to the group. He could read intentions in looks, decipher the motivations behind words and gestures. His memory, fine and precise, retained the safest routes, the best-hidden hiding places, the moments of vulnerability of their potential enemies.

It was thanks to this combination of sharp senses and sharp intellect that he had one day met Mei. He still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. The sky was covered with dark clouds, and the rain fell in fine droplets, transforming the alleys into muddy trails. Ming wandered, looking for shelter, listening attentively to the lapping of drops on roofs and cobblestones.

It was then that he had heard a distinct noise, different from the others—a muffled scream, followed by a low growl. His keen eyes had spotted a slender figure, quick as a shadow, slipping into an adjacent alley. It was Mei, engaged in combat with a larger boy, trying to defend a small box of supplies. Despite her modest size, she fought with impressive ferocity, every move calculated, every blow delivered with precision.

Ming had felt an immediate admiration for her. Using her small size and stealth to his advantage, he had snuck up behind Mei's attacker, taking advantage of the element of surprise to knock him unconscious with a piece of wood found on the ground. The fight was brief, but decisive. Mei, panting, had turned her large black eyes towards him, a glint of gratitude and wariness mixed in.

"Who are you?" she had asked, her voice trembling slightly with the effort.

"Ming," he had answered simply, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I just want to help."

Mei had looked at him for a long moment, assessing every detail of his face, every inflection of his voice. Then, she had nodded, silently accepting his presence.

Since that day, Ming had joined their group. He had gotten to know each of the members, their strengths and weaknesses. Yan, their shield, had brute strength but sometimes lacked subtlety. Mei, their leader, was agile and intelligent, capable of making quick decisions under pressure. Lila, with her piercing gaze, always knew how to find the necessary resources. Tom, more thoughtful, analyzed each situation with precision. Together, they formed a cohesive unit, a new family for Ming, a group with which he could share his fears and hopes. Together, they had survived many trials, their bond strengthening with each challenge overcome.

But since this child, Fang Yuan, about six years old, arrived a week ago, the group had changed. As soon as he arrived, a strange aura surrounded him, an undeniable presence that transcended his young age. His eyes, deep black, seemed to see beyond the visible, and his posture, despite his small size, exuded an unwavering confidence.

Ming still remembered the shock of the first day. Fang Yuan had looked at Yan, and Yan, always ready to prove his strength, had smiled amusedly at the sight of this little boy challenging him. But that smile didn't last long.

They had started to fight, and in just a few exchanges, Fang Yuan had knocked Yan to the ground. How was it possible for a six-year-old child to knock Yan, their powerful shield, to the ground? He had used only one hand to lift him up and make him fall on his back with disconcerting ease. It was impossible! Even the adults had a hard time defending themselves against Yan. Astonishment and disbelief were painted on the faces of all the members of the group.

The impact of Yan's body on the ground had resounded like a clap of thunder, and the silence that followed was just as deafening. The smell of dust from the fall still hung in the air, and each breath of the children was audible in this heavy calm. Ming, his eyes wide, had not been able to take his eyes off Fang Yuan, this little boy who had just upset all their certainties.

"How... How did you do that?" Mei had asked, her voice trembling with amazement.

Fang Yuan had simply shrugged, his expression impassive. "It's aikido," he had answered with disconcerting simplicity, as if that explained everything.

Since that moment, a new dynamic had been established in the group. Fang Yuan, with his inexplicable strength and his incredible skills, had forced each member to reevaluate their place and their abilities. The initial distrust had given way to an intense curiosity, mixed with respect and fear.

For Ming, Fang Yuan's presence was both reassuring and worrying. He saw him as a powerful ally, but the shadow of his inexplicable strength hovered like an unfathomable mystery. Every day, Fang Yuan demonstrated skills that defied logic, and every day, Ming observed, analyzed, seeking to understand the origin of this power.

The nights in their ramshackle shelter were often filled with hushed conversations. "Do you think he's human?" Tom would sometimes whisper, worry in his voice.

"He must be," Mei would answer, trying to reassure the others, but her own doubts were never far away. "He's like us... right?"

But the question remained, hovering between them like an invisible presence. Was Fang Yuan really like them, or was he something else, something they couldn't yet understand?

"Look what I found!" Lila's cry pulled him out of his thoughts.

Ming turned to her, his heart beating faster. Lila, her eyes shining with pride, held a piece of scrap metal in her dirty hands, a treasure found amidst the rubbish.

The piece of metal, though rusted in places, still seemed solid and usable. In this city where every resource counted, it was a precious find.

Ming approached, his light steps crunching the debris under his shoes. He felt a surge of pride rise in him at seeing Lila like this, her face lit up with satisfaction. He placed a gentle hand on her head, feeling the rough texture of her tangled hair under his fingers.

"Well done, Lila," he said, his soft voice filled with warmth. "You always have a knack for finding good finds."

Lila looked up at him, a bright smile lighting up her dirty face. Her cheeks flushed with excitement contrasted with the dust and grime, and her cute little laugh echoed in the cold air, bringing with it a burst of human warmth.

"Thanks, Ming!" she replied, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I knew we could use this."

Ming nodded, his thoughts mixing with the tactile sensation of the cold scrap metal against his hands as he examined Lila's find. The metal had a distinct metallic scent, mixed with that of dirt and rust. It was a rare find in this sea of debris, an object with real potential.

"You did well, Lila. This could really help us," he said as he handed the piece of scrap metal back to Lila. "Let's keep looking, every little bit helps."

Lila nodded, her smile never faltering, and she resumed her search with renewed energy. Ming watched her walk away, his eyes scanning the landfill for anything suspicious. The piles of debris, twisted pieces of metal, and broken objects made for a chaotic and eerie landscape. The acrid smell of rust and rot filled the air, a constant reminder of the harshness of their surroundings.

He noticed that the place was filled with different groups of children, each one busy rummaging through the trash, desperately searching for something of value. The sounds of frantic digging and whispered conversations formed a continuous cacophony.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ming noticed that people wearing coveralls were starting to arrive. The coveralls, stained with dirt but imposing, gave these adults a sinister and menacing appearance. They moved with an icy confidence, their gazes searching the surroundings greedily.

DANGER!

These adults were the most dangerous in the dump. They robbed everyone, from adults without coveralls to children like us, and sometimes, they even killed them. The mere sight of these figures was enough to make Ming's heart race, the frantic beating echoing in his ears like a war drum. He knew that they had to leave immediately. There weren't many of them yet. It was a good time to get out.

Ming sat up abruptly, his senses on alert. "Lila, Tom! Quick, we have to go," he called, his voice low but urgent, cutting through the ambient noise of the dump. Lila and Tom looked up, their expressions instantly changing from concentration to controlled panic. Without a word, they quickly regrouped.

Ming's heart was pounding as they made their way to their secret path. Their steps were quick and silent, each aware of the impending danger. They walked through the mountains of trash, dodging the sharp pieces of metal and broken objects that littered the ground. The smell of the dump, a mixture of damp, decay, and rusted iron, intensified with each step.

They finally reached the empty house, its cracked walls and broken windows almost seeming to welcome them. The crack, narrow but enough to allow them to pass, loomed before them. Ming made sure Lila and Tom entered first, their bodies slipping through the opening with desperate agility.

The passage was dark and cramped, the cold stone walls scraping against their clothes, but they moved forward without hesitation. The smell of mold and old dust filled their nostrils, contrasting with the open air of the dump. Every movement echoed in this makeshift tunnel, amplifying the sound of their rapid breaths.

When they emerged on the other side, Ming took a deep breath, savoring the slightly fresher, less stale air. They found themselves in a narrow alley, their figures melting into the protective shadows of the dilapidated buildings. He took one last look behind them, making sure no one had followed them.

"We did it," he murmured, more to himself than to the others. Relief spread through him, but he knew it was only temporary. Their survival depended on their constant vigilance and ability to stay united.

Lila stepped closer to Ming, her eyes shining with admiration. "Thank you, Ming," she said softly, her smile returning despite the recent fear.

Tom nodded, his face serious but grateful. "Without you, we might be dead by now," he added, his voice shaky but sincere.

Ming felt a wave of warmth flood his heart. "We have to be careful," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "And most of all, stick together. It's our only chance."

"Except your chance is over now," a deep male voice replied, full of malice and mockery.

Their hearts froze at the words. They turned toward the voice, to see three adults wearing white coveralls of better quality than their clothes. The men seemed almost unreal, their impeccable outfits contrasting starkly with the surrounding dirt. In their hands, they held bladed weapons of various kinds, gleaming blades and sharp points ready to strike.

Ming didn't respond to the remark but instead directly pulled out a weapon hidden under his coat, a poor quality pistol, worn by time and hardship. His fingers clenched the butt, feeling the cold of the metal against his trembling palm. He raised the weapon and pointed it at them, his heart beating like a war drum in his chest.

"Lila, run!" Ming said in a deep voice, urgency piercing every syllable.

Lila, without hesitation, turned and ran towards the crack to escape, her feet hitting the ground with desperate speed. Ming glanced at her, his hope hanging on her figure as it slipped through the debris. But that brief moment of distraction was enough.

One of the three adults in coveralls rushed towards him, a gleaming blade in his hand. Time seemed to slow down as Ming, his muscles tense with tension, watched the attacker approach with alarming speed. But Tom, with unexpected courage, stepped in. He leapt in front of Ming, his eyes burning with determination, and took the blow directly to the head. The dull thud of impact echoed through the alley, and Tom collapsed to the ground, motionless, blood quickly spreading around him.

Ming gritted his teeth, cold rage filling his being, but he remained calm. His breaths slowed, deeper, as he adjusted his aim. The man in the white jumpsuit had stopped, surprised by Tom's intervention.

"Bang!"

The gunshot rang out, the pistol emitting a sharp crack that echoed like an eerie echo. The bullet sliced through the air and lodged in the attacker's ankle. A cry of pain tore through the silence, and the man staggered, dropping his weapon and falling to his knees, one hand clutching his injured leg.

Lila, hearing the gunshot, turned briefly, her eyes wide with terror and determination. She continued to run, disappearing through the crack of the empty house, her small steps echoing faintly before fading into the distance.

The two other men in coveralls, seeing their companion on the ground, exchanged a look before cautiously approaching, their weapons ready to strike. Ming, short of breath, felt sweat trickle down his forehead, his hands shaking slightly. He knew that the old pistol would not last long, and that the bullets were numbered.

"You think you can take us all down, kid?" one of the men shouted, his voice thick with contempt.

Ming did not answer, his eyes fixed on the attackers, searching for a way out. His mind was racing, every second counted. The metallic taste of fear was on his tongue, but he pushed it away, focusing on what he had to do to protect Lila and the others.

A hot breath passed over his face, the smell of gunpowder and blood filling his nostrils. The world around him seemed to shrink in that moment, every sound, every movement amplified. Time stood still, every decision heavy with consequences.

"Tom..." he whispered, a dull pain piercing his heart as he saw his friend on the ground. He had to hold on, for Tom, for Lila, for everyone who was counting on him.

He readjusted his grip on the gun, determined to fight to the end. The next shot could be decisive.