Descendant of Sloth

"So?" 

The single word left my mouth so unexpectedly that it even caught me off guard. The members of the Vigilante Order blinked at me, their expressions a mix of confusion and irritation. 

"Hmm?" Ezekiel's brow furrowed slightly. 

"I said, so what?" I repeated, my tone flat and disinterested. My face betrayed nothing—no fear, no excitement, no concern. Just exhaustion. 

Ezekiel tilted his head slightly, as if trying to understand whether I was joking or insane. "It means," he said slowly, "you will be killed, and you will never see another sunrise. Your life will end." 

"Just kill me, then." My response was calm, almost bored, as I glanced at the others. Mira and Esther exchanged uneasy glances, their faces slightly damp with sweat. 

"Told you," Esther grumbled, his frustration visible. "He's a lost cause. Let's stop wasting time and let the elites handle him." 

"Agreed," Mira added curtly, folding her arms as she glared at me. "He's too far gone and arrogant." 

"Am I?" I said. "I am getting killer for the reason I have no clue about. It's tiring to put up a fight against law knowing we mostly lose in this corrupted world. So it's more convenient to die." I gave her a side eye which must've filled with even more confusion. 

Ezekiel raised a hand, silencing them both. "Adrian," he said, his tone shifting. "Do you understand the seriousness of your situation?" 

"Of course," I replied, leaning back slightly. "But if it's already decided, what's the point of this little meeting? Just do what you have to." 

For a moment, the room fell into a tense silence. Then Ezekiel leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "We want you to join the Vigilante Order," he said plainly. "Under my wing." 

A flicker of realization—I knew it—crossed my mind. *So that's what this is about. Why else would they be here in person instead of sending an execution notice?* 

"And if I don't?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral and looked at him to know about it all. 

"You'll be executed this Sunday." Ezekiel's response was delivered with an unsettling calmness, as if he is discussing the weather. 

The weight of his words was real in the air, but I shrugged. "Seems like I don't have much of a choice, then. Fine. I'll join." 

"That was fast," Mira said, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she were trying to uncover some hidden motive. 

I turned my gaze to her, cold and unyielding. "They....killed my childhood friend." 

The air in the room shifted instantly. It became heavy, suffocating, as though my my rage had materialized. Ezekiel's steady demeanor faltered for a split second. Esther shifted uncomfortably, his confidence replaced by unease. Mira's earlier sharpness disappeared, her eyes blinked and dropped to the floor. 

Nothing else needed to be said. My words carried a finality that left no room for doubt. 

Ezekiel broke the silence, his voice measured. "Alright, then. Tomorrow morning, an escort will come for you. Be ready." He extended a hand. 

I shook it firmly, my grip matching his. For a moment, he studied me, his sharp eyes searching for something I couldn't name. Then he turned and left, followed by Mira and Esther. They threw me one last glance before the door clicked shut behind them. 

The silence they left behind was almost suffocating, but it didn't last long. The door burst open again, and Hina came rushing in. 

"Adrian!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with both relief and panic. "What did they say? You won't be executed, right?" 

"Tell me right away. I will contact my dad and he will do his best to save you." She said, holding my collar and pulling me. 

I will die by her hands before anyone else's I thought in my mind. 

I raised a hand, motioning for her to calm down. "Relax," I said, my voice steady. "They won't. I'm safe." 

She let out a long, relieved sigh, clutching her chest. "Thank goodness," she whispered. "I was so scared. They looked so serious, I thought—" 

"It's fine," I interrupted, my tone cutting through her words. "They wouldn't have come here to kill me anyways."

For a moment, she simply stared at me, her eyes searching mine for reassurance. Then she nodded, though her hands still trembled slightly. "Are you sure? They're not lying, right?" 

"No," I said firmly. "They're not lying." 

She let out another breath, the tension in her shoulders easing. But before she could say anything more, I spoke again. 

"Hina..." 

"Yes?" Her voice was softer now, her gaze focused on me. 

"What exactly happened that evening?" I asked, my tone silent but filled with intensity. "I need to know." 

Her face paled instantly. The color drained from her cheeks, and her hands fell limply to her sides. She opened her mouth as if to speak but hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor. 

"Hina," I pressed, my voice gentler. "Please." 

Her lips trembling as she tried to form words. Her earlier relief was gone, replaced by an expression of pure terror. 

She gulped, her throat moving visibly, and the sight of her in that state stirred something unsettling in me. My mind raced and for the rare cases, a trace of regret crept inside of me. The question was there. 

"What exactly did I do to make her this afraid of me?" 

The silence around me felt louder than it should have. None of my team members were here. Usually, when someone gets injured, the entire squad gathers around, offering their support, cracking jokes to lighten the mood, or simply standing. But now, even after three days of being confined to this bed, not a single familiar face had shown up. 

Henry, who was always so commanding, his voice sharp and always yelling like a blade, now spoke to me in a soft tone. That wasn't like him. 

I clenched my fists against the sheets. What could I have possibly done that made them all turn away? 

I must know.