Shadow Slave

Sunny stared at Caster with a grim expression. Despite the amiable smile and reassuring voice, he knew what the handsome Legacy was doing.

He grew up in the outskirts, after all.

Caster had said "I will help you."

But what he actually meant was "I will own you."

Because there was no better leverage than a gruesome secret. This help of his was going to come at a price.

But what choice did Sunny have, really? Unless he was ready to fight and kill Caster right there and then, thus silencing the only witness of his crime forever, he couldn't refuse.

Plus… what Caster thought was going to happen and what would really happen was not as set in stone as it seemed. As long as Sunny was alive, there was hope of turning things around, somehow.

He just had to get through this, one step at a time.

Sunny forced out a smile.

"Thank you, Caster. I won't… won't forget it."

Then, he glanced at the dead body lying at his feet and took a step back, escaping the quickly growing puddle of blood. His face remained calm, but a small, almost imperceptible shiver ran through his body.

"So… what do we do now?"

The proud Legacy lingered, then said in a solemn tone:

first, we can't let anyone see you like this. Wait here for a while. I'll bring something for you to

to stay anywhere near Harper, but Caster

"And then what?"

Caster hesitated.

need to get rid of the body. But… it won't be easy to do without being noticed, if not by slum rats, than by Guards. Don't worry, though… I'll

him from returning with a crowd of people? But no. Having Sunny

an eye on

sighed and sat on the floor, resting his back against the

comforting darkness. Of course, he could still see the bloodied body lying motionless on the

open,

I am stuck with you forever, aren't

a new shadow had joined the

he could

Time slowly crawled.

prying eyes and waste a

Do

a young man he had killed, Sunny smiled darkly and listened to what kind of excuse the Legacy would come up with

the sound of rain falling on the stones

it, Sunny was

in mystery and screamed of tragedy, he came from a simple background. His story was more mundane than tragic. A trivial story of unfortunate people living hard

crews that took care of the city's outer barriers. His mom worked in

city maintenance workers. Three years after that, his mother got sick and eventually passed away. Factory workers like her often got sick and died due to the harsh conditions,

which made him pretty much completely undesirable. After enduring a few years in a series of increasingly vile foster homes, he finally managed to run away and learned how to