Chapter 68

  ? Slashed Constable ?

  Then... knelt.

  In front of the children: The Wolves, Alex and Dante.

  A ripple of confusion swept through the street. Constables exchanged puzzled glances. Slum-dwellers stared, caught halfway between hope and suspicion.

  He looked first at Alex.

  “Hello… um, Alex, right?”

  Alex took a second to recognize him. His face brightened the moment he did.

  “Oh! Mister Daniel! You’re… not in the plaza anymore?”

  Daniel smiled lightly. “They needed assistance here and I was called.”

  Alex and Daniel's warmth clashed starkly with the tension around them.

  The Wolves watched with narrowed eyes.

  Dante’s shoulders tightened.

  Leo stayed unreadable but alert.

  Around them, the whispers of the crowd rose.

  “Is he… friendly with them?”

  “Since when do coppers kneel?”

  “Must be new.”

  Then Daniel turned to Mira.

  “Hi, red-hair boxer. Sorry for staring at you from the crowd… I was trying to make sure it was really you.”

  Mira blinked, but did not soften. Her guard rose instantly, not in fists but in posture: her shoulders drew in, her weight shifted back a half-step, chin angling slightly away, eyes narrowing with that silent slum-instinct of don’t get too close. You're a man with a badge in our territory.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  Daniel hesitated, then.

  “You wouldn’t remember me,” he said gently. “You were unconscious when it happened. I wish I could say I was the policeman who helped you that day… but I wasn’t. Just a witness while your friends here saved your life.”

  Mira’s eyes narrowed, still distrustful.

  “Yes. I heard about you.”

  Alex stepped in quickly, breaking the tension before it hardened.

  “That’s not true, Mister Daniel. You did help.”

  He said it simply, with the kind sincerity only Alex had, unguarded and unashamed.

  The other constables weren't afraid to say the words out loud to each other.

  “Snitch’s got a soft spot.”

  “Won’t last long.”

  “He’ll learn.”

  But none reached Daniel, who only offered Alex a small, humbled smile—grateful by having someone not judge him for his negligible contribution to Mira's rescue.

  Finally, he rose to his feet and took a few steps back, slipping into the formation of constables. His face shifted back into professionalism. Yet every few seconds, he glanced toward the kids—as if silently making sure they were still alright.

  The Wolves seized the moment and slipped out of the crowd, disappearing into the side alley. Alex and Dante followed.

  Lino shoved his hands into his pockets.

  “That was… weird. I mean, that copper helped us back at the plaza when no one was looking... But now he kneels and talks all friendly in that crowd?”

  Tonno shrugged. “I like him, honestly. He’s… polite. For a copper.”

  Dante snorted. “Never trust a copper, guys. They're all the same.”

  Pinch jerked his chin toward Alex. “Alex here trusts him.”

  Alex didn’t deny it and just gave a small nod.

  Dante threw Alex a look that was half annoyed, half fond.

  “Buddy’s still too soft. Been here months and he still has a whole lot to learn.

  A. L-O-T.

  To L-E-A-R-N, right, Mira?”

  Mira hesitated. “I… don’t know.”

  She rubbed her arm lightly, remembering the pain she’d been in that day.

  “He carried me to the doctor together with you guys, didn’t he? And he looked like he wanted to do more. Maybe he is… different.”

  Leo, walking ahead of them, spoke.

  “Let's not think too much about it. Maybe we won’t even see him again.”

  Alex exhaled softly. “Alright, guys. I have to go. I’m already late for work... but please, guys, let's give him a chance if he ever shows up again.”

  But Leo finally stopped then, turning halfway.

  “Alex,” he said quietly, “before you go… I want you all to listen.”

  Alex stopped mid-step and turned back.

  Dante’s eyes sharpened.

  The Wolves drifted in around Leo—no stiffness, just instinct.

  Pinch narrowed his eyes dramatically like a spy being briefed for a top-secret mission.

  Lino elbowed Tonno for space; Tonno elbowed back, winning effortlessly because he was bigger.

  Mira asked, determined and serious. “What is it?”

  Leo took a breath.

  “What we saw earlie…" then he gave a look to Dante, remembering his analysis on how this may escalate. "...This might get uglier than I thought.”

  His voice stayed level, but even Pinch straightened a little.

  “We have to be more vigilant. And careful.”

  He turned to the trio.

  “Pinch, Tonno, Lino. You three live in the same neighborhood. Stick together. Always. Don't wander by yourselves from now on no matter what.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Pinch saluted with too much enthusiasm. “I won't!”

  Lino grinned. “You got it, old man.”

  Tonno nodded nervously.

  Then Leo faced Mira.

  “Mira. Look after the girls in the orphanage for me. Help the nuns and staff too to keep them in check and not go out after it gets dark."

  “Alright,” she answered, steady and full of resolve. "Count on me."

  Then, Leo's voice became softer—

  "And I beg you—don't leave the orphanage by yourself. We will pick you and drop you.”

  Mira looked down, a shadow of anger passed her face, being treated as someone who needed protection. But Leo's voice and knowing his past... she understood, and chose to nod silently.

  Finally, Leo turned to the two who weren’t technically Wolves, yet were more than outsiders.

  “Alex. Dante.”

  He didn’t need to say more.

  But the meaning settled between them like a quiet oath.

  "If you hear anything—an ambush, a shooting, anything from Dominick, warn us."

  Alex nodded.

  “Understood.”

  Dante swallowed once.

  “…Yes.”

  It came out normal to the rest of the gang. No one suspected any hidden meaning.

  Finally, Leo let out a breath.

  “Let’s be safe.”

  With that, Dante and Alex nodded and walked in the opposite direction, with Alex heading to work and Dante to the library in the city center.

  The alley felt different after those words.

  The city noise still churned around them—the clatter of carts, the muttering of the frightened crowd behind them, the fading whistles of the constables—but something had shifted.

  The children sensed it in their bones.

  Portenzo City is breathing differently.

  And yet—because they were together, shoulder to shoulder—the fear didn’t swallow them whole.

  Pinch was ready to punch danger in the face.

  Tonno walked closer than usual to Lino.

  Mira’s fingers brushed her hair behind her ear, a small nervous habit—then she steadied herself.

  Alex and Dante exchanged a glance that meant We’ll handle it.

  Leo’s words made the whole group feel… anchored.

  Afraid.

  Yes.

  But determined.

  Because when Leo spoke, it wasn’t like a leader giving commands.

  It was like an older brother saying:

  We survive together.

  And that was enough to make even the slums feel a little less dark.

  Before turning the corner, Alex stole one last look at Daniel—at the lone warm face in a city where warmth got eaten alive.

  He wondered if that copper might change things someday.

  Or if this city would break him just like it broke everyone else...

  Later that night,

  The precinct breathed the tired rhythm of the late hours: typewriters clacking behind glass doors, the low hum of men arguing over paperwork, the stink of pipe smoke trapped between wooden rafters. Coats dripped by the entrance where the rain had followed officers inside.

  Constables moved about in loose clusters, laughing, trading gossip, complaining about the captain... but Daniel had no such cluster. He stood at his locker alone, fastening the buttons of his civilian coat, the day’s grime still clinging to his cuffs.

  The weight of the morning’s “message display” hung over the entire building. Doors to the captain’s and inspectors’ offices stayed shut. Voices behind them rose now and then, sharp and clipped.

  A pair of boots approached.

  Toni, one of the older constables, clapped Daniel lightly on the shoulder.

  “Good work today, Dani-boy.”

  Daniel gave a small nod. “Thanks.”

  Toni leaned against the next locker, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  “How was it? That thing everyone’s yammering about, the poor bastard strung up like laundry?”

  Daniel hesitated. “Gruesome. I still can’t believe someone would go that far.”

  Toni snorted. “That’s the Marvianos for ya. Bet it was the Undertaker himself.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Captain says otherwise. Doesn't look like something Dominick Marviano would do. Sounds like the Dons and how they really operated back in the old days. He ain't about the theatrics and prefers to stay away from the spotlight. He sends messages by showing up himself.”

  Toni whistled, "Look at him now, acting like a real inspector. Afraid of losing his job, I guess... Whatever the reason, expect a dispatch or two to the slums. For now, you’re back to the plaza. You can keep an eye on that lovely violin girl by the fountain.”

  Daniel’s hand paused mid-button. Noor’s voice echoed in him, sharp as a slapped truth.

  Words he will never forget.

  “A girl my age lies bleeding in the clinic. She stood up for us.

  And men charged with upholding justice watched.

  Would you inquire of the gentlemen who slipped away—

  was the spectacle not to their liking?”

  He swallowed. “I… saw her friends today. The ones from the brawl.”

  Toni raised a brow. “Right. If I remember correctly... You wrote up two constables around that time too, yes?”

  Daniel nodded. “Article 5 — Dereliction of Duty. They watched a fight in the plaza during duty and didn’t bother stepping in... And then they went to lunch. The kids’ testimony won’t be taken seriously… So I filed the bribe they took off some merchant one day later.”

  Toni clicked his tongue.

  “To be honest, you slacked and only interfered late too. You said so yourself. And snitching isn’t the way, Daniel. You lost a lot of respect doing that. Men won’t forget it.”

  Daniel lowered his hands from his coat buttons.

  “Respect…”

  He looked past Toni, past the rows of lockers, to the doorway leading out, to the streets where the kids walked every day, unprotected.

  “Losing your colleagues’ respect is ugly, Toni,” he said quietly.

  “But try losing the respect of... kids.”

  With that, he walked away, leaving Toni questioning the absurdity of the thought.

  "Kids? They don't matter. Why would you care that much?"

  He thought of saying, but Daniel was already out of the station.

  The middle-class street outside the police station was alive. Gas lamps flickering, windows glowing warm behind lace curtains. A world away from the slums. Except tonight, even here, the whispers followed him.

  “Did you hear what happened down there?”

  “Horrible… absolutely horrible.”

  “What are the police even doing?”

  That last one reached his ears clearly. But no reaction at all.

  “Police…” he muttered.

  His boots kept a steady rhythm as his mind dragged him backwards—through every choice that had led him to where he was.

  “Why did I even become one?”

  “I had no interest in justice. Or heroics. Or saving anybody. I just heard it was easy. Decent pay. Respectable enough. And the job…”

  He snorted softly.

  “…the job isn’t as dangerous as it sounds.”

  And he had been right.

  “Seven days. Seven days of training. That’s all it took to turn me into a guardian of law. Seven days to hand me a whistle, a baton, and that ridiculous blue coat.”

  He kept walking as the lamps hissed to life along the street.

  “No background checks. No real tests. If you aren’t an obvious criminal, they hand you a chance. And the competent ones?”

  He shook his head.

  “They’re nobles’ pets. Appointed for politics.”

  “It’s not the wages that let half the bastards in uniform live so comfortably. Everyone knows that. But for some reason… I can’t bring myself to be bought. Not because I’m righteous. Or brave.”

  “It’s just pathetic. Maybe that’s pride?”

  A weak laugh escaped him.

  A mocking one.

  “That day…”

  “I watched a girl, fight bullies... with all what she had... a violin. She fought them with music, owning them.”

  "Later, she didn't hesitate to call our laziness out, while I was wearing the uniform."

  “And the stone-faced boy…”

  “…who stepped into the brawl and the fight just… shifted.”

  Then came the memory that sat heaviest, that never left him.

  “Alex… A boy dealing with blood and a knife in that girl’s side like it was just another day. Giving orders. Making a stretcher. And still looking at me like—like I wasn’t useless.”

  He stopped walking.

  “Whatever little pride I had left…"

  "He completely crushed it.”

  A soft wind fluttered the edges of his coat.

  “Why did things turn out like this? For me? For the city? For that man they hung up in the slums? Is it really because the world is complicated? Is that the excuse?”

  Ahead, a child ran past—laughing, carefree, chasing nothing with all the joy in the world.

  Daniel’s hands clenched so hard in his pockets his coat seams almost tore as he watched him.

  “What... is so complicated?”