Vice ran like a bullet shot out of a machine gun, only an afterimage would be displayed somebody looked at him. He made his way through the streets and sped through every shortcut possible. He jumped over certain buildings and climbed walls because that was the quickest way, despite cutting himself on multiple occasions.
The inferno burned brightly, and a terrible heat was given off from the building. Vice flung himself into his house. The door frame broke down behind him, and a large amount of rubble rushed down. Vice jumped forward and was able to escape most of the falling stones, yet there were still some fragments that hit him. His whole body was coated in a gray coat of dust as he covered his face to make sure he didn’t inhale any of the smoke.
“MOM! WHERE ARE YOU?” he screamed with all his might as he got into the living room. The furniture and paintings on the wall had all been destroyed and were burning, leaving behind only a charred smell and a lot of smoke. The smoke was so thick that Vice was only able to see a couple of meters in front of him with a lot of difficulty. He constantly batted his hands in front of his face in an attempt to clear up the smoke.
“Shit,” he said, and ran towards his mother’s room. The smoke and flames were only starting to reach the room. Angeline was fast asleep. He picked up the frail body of his mother, carrying her in his arms, and jumped out of the window. The glass shattered outward as Vice covered his mother, and a waft of smoke came out with them.
Vice landed on even footing onto the grassy garden. “Wake up,” Vice said as he shook his mother’s body. He needed to see that this woman was fine, that she wasn’t hurt. He needed to know whether to bring her to a hospital right away, however, that in itself would take too long.
After a full minute of him trying to wake up Angeline, she finally moved and groaned under her breath. “Ahh, Vice, is that you?” she said as she opened her eyes. She looked at her surroundings with a confused expression, seeming to only realize she was in her garden after staring around for a long time.
“Yes, Mom, are you okay?” he asked, voice full of worry.
“Yes, I-” COUGH COUGH “I’m fine. What happened? Why am I in the garden?” Angeline asked.
Vice turned her body around so that she could see the burning building. Pillars of flames and smoke were lighting up the night, and the foundations of the building were constantly breaking down in front of Vice’s eyes.
“It can’t be… Wh-” she choked, tears falling out of her eyes before she could finish her sentence. “You worked so hard for this place, and now…”
“Mom, don’t worry. I still have more than enough to get us a new place, it’ll just take some time to find somewhere willing to take us in,” Vice replied. He looked at the building with sorrow because he knew it wouldn’t be easy for him to find a human willing to rent or sell their place for them. Buying was the only option, and that could take many days, and usually the prices would be raised extortionately due to Vice’s heritage, however, there was nothing he could do about that.
‘Can’t you just ask your friends, Anne or Paul, to buy the house in your stead? Heck, you could even ask your guild master, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help you out,’ Favian inquired.
‘No, I want to do it by myself,’ Vice replied. He then looked toward his mother and asked, “We need to find a place for you to stay for now Mom, then I can investigate what happened here. Does a hotel sound good?”
“Bring me to Josie, I’m sure she’ll help us out for a couple days,” Angeline said.
Vice looked at his optimistic mother with worry, before saying, “Mother, that woman… your sister, she hates us. I don’t think she’ll be kind enough to take us in. Have you already forgotten how she threw us out when I was only a child?”
“Ahh yes, how could I forget that,” she replied. This answer left Vice feeling even more anxious for her wellbeing. Not only was she already so frail as to always need medication, but she was starting to show signs of dementia. His heart twisted in agony as he stared at the one person he loved slowly drifting away from him, right through his fingers.
“Mom…” Vice wept, tears trickling down his slender face. He wiped them away before his mother looked back at him, and lifted her back into his hands.
Vice ran toward the nearest high-class hotel within reach and booked a room for a month for himself and his mother. One thing Vice had realized in his 16 years of life was that businesses didn’t care about how he looked as long as he paid good money and didn’t disturb their customers. It was the regular people of Restok, the individual homeowners, that cared so much about making his life a misery. They would stop at nothing to try to teach him how ugly this world truly was. People who cultivated and learned magic were indifferent to him, not caring about him unless he could benefit them or was a threat to them.
“Thank you for booking a villa with us, that will be 20 gold for your stay,” a male clerk said.
Vice opened his spacial pouch and took the gold pieces out, which he handed to the clerk. ‘I still have over 500 gold pieces left, so we’ll be fine for now,’he thought to himself. He’d been able to amass so much money via treasure hunting, which spoke words to how lucrative the trade could be if you had that ‘X Factor’ needed to become a good treasure hunter.
The hotel opened up into a large neighborhood of different villas, each being just as big as Vice’s home. Pools were present on each villa, and the walk to where he’d be staying was filled with beautiful scenery of the different fountains and sculptures placed all around. Only the wealthiest people would be able to stay for an extended period at this place. A multitude of fauna, including roses, sunflowers, and magnolias were scattered across the pathway, and even some cherry blossom trees were just blooming, the pinkish-red color of their leaves adding a vibrancy to the area.
Vice didn’t pause to delight in these things because not only did he want to get to the bottom of what had happened to his burnt down home as soon as possible, but he only enjoyed buying art and luxurious stuff for his mother. She was the only reason why he spent so much gold on items that could be considered ‘useless’ for a cultivator such as himself. A cultivator was an individual who practiced in the mystical arts. They could use the abundant arcana in the atmosphere to cast spells or fortify their bodies to achieve superhuman feats. ‘Strength, I need more of it,’ Vice thought.
The mother-son duo walked into their villa, and unsurprisingly it was air-conditioned and filled with the newest technologies, including a magical fridge that could keep food and drinks ‘frozen in time’ according to the company’s slogan.
“Okay, Mom, stay here and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back soon, I promise,” Vice said, before giving her a kiss on the forehead and turning around to make his way back to the scene of the fire. ‘Whoever did this, I will find you and make your life a misery,’ Vice thought as he sprinted through the city.
It didn’t take long for him to get the house. The flames had all died out, and the city’s police force, which consisted of only cultivators, were walking around inspecting the building. The whole place had been turned to rubble, its previous form having been deformed and charred to cinders.
“Who are you?” an officer shouted as Vice made his way to them. It was relatively dark so the man squinted to look at Vice.
“Vice. The homeowner,” he replied briefly and pointed to the building.
The officer asked for some identification. Vice quickly handed the office his Treasure Hunter’s card, which had a picture of him. It was almost impossible to forge something like this.
“Ahh, Vice, the treasure hunter. I couldn’t see you properly because of how dark it is,” the officer said nervously. “Let me bring you to the Sergeant.”
The man swiftly took Vice to the side and brought him to another man who was busy foraging through the rubble. His blond hair had been stained black from what Vice guessed to have been the rubble. His hands were blackened as well as his previously blue uniform. The man turned around to look at Vice before the officer could even approach him.
“Vice, long time no see,” the man said. His blue eyes sparkled under the moonlight as his own youth was evident. There were no wrinkles on his face, nor any semblance of facial hair. Despite being about the same age as Vice, this man was leading others for the police force already. He was also relatively small compared to Vice, only reaching up to his shoulders.
“Officers, give him any and all help should he ask for it. Dismissed.”
Vice nodded and said, “Thanks Paul,” after which he started to dig through the rubble as well. For him, time was of the essence. Any and all of the information regarding what he believed to be arson would be lost the longer he waited. As such, he spent the next few hours searching every nook and cranny of his home.
