"L-Lord... it was my fault. I deserve to die... I shouldn't have..."
Beside the docks of West Sail Harbor.
Tightly bound hand and foot, Naji knelt trembling on the ground, his pants soaked through. His lips quivered as he begged for mercy, cursing himself for being a worthless bastard.
Yet things had to go wrong at the worst possible moment. Just as he reached the crucial part of how he "deserved to die," his tongue twisted up, and for a moment, he forgot which "shouldn't have" to start with.
The firelight beside him flickered in and out. After a while, he finally adjusted to the darkness.
Only then did he see the thick pools of blood on the ground, the coils of intestines hanging from shattered wooden crates, and the pale chunks of flesh discarded in the street... His stomach churned, and he nearly vomited.
"Urgh—!"
After dry-heaving, he immediately resumed trembling as he begged for mercy.
Yanush watched the expression on his face with amusement, as though admiring a wild dog whose limbs had been snapped.
"Right, right... Orisa," Naji finally remembered the name. He looked around pleadingly at the people surrounding him. "It was my fault... I got him killed! I beg you, give me a chance to atone..."
Whether or not he had actually caused the man's death, he could only take the blame.
He knew it.
These people did not care about reason. They would only settle down once their anger had been soothed.
Perhaps he had watched enough of Naji's performance, or perhaps he had not yet had enough fun with the Velanders. Yanush yawned and beckoned to the people beside him.
"Skewer this utterly wicked bastard. Use the flagpole in front of the Governor's Mansion."
Naji, kneeling on the ground, had not yet understood