I can hear it

The man's expression was vile, and his tone even more so, but neither compared to what he said.

"What? Still protecting her?

I'm not even allowed to talk about her now?

Was anything I said wrong?

She was very eager that day!

For all we know, she's off having fun with those pirates right now!"

The moment the man's lips moved, Randall swiftly reached out and covered Christa's ears.

But Christa still trembled a little.

Perhaps she had sensed the malice in the man's heart...

Randall took a deep breath, lowered his hands, then looked at Christa and said earnestly:

"Christa, this man is beyond saving.

Come with me!"

Christa shuddered.

Then, for the first time, Christa—who hadn't cried no matter how much she had hurt before—finally burst into tears.

"Randall... I-I'll go with you!"

Without her mother, this place was hell...

She truly didn't have the courage to stay any longer.

"Hey, you brat!

Did everything I told you go in one ear and out the other?

You're trying to lure my daughter away right in front of me?"

Humiliated anger spread across the man's face. As he spoke, he reached for Christa's hand, trying to drag her back to his side.

Randall wasn't about to let him.

He scooped Christa's small body into his arms and stepped back, avoiding the man's filthy hand.

Having failed, the man stubbornly tried to lunge at them again.

By now, Randall had run out of patience too.

He raised his hand and threw a punch toward the man.

A deafening boom rang out.

A transparent column of air shot past the man's head.

With a crash, it blasted straight through the wall behind him.

The man froze as though he had suddenly become a three-dimensional photograph, his body completely motionless.

Naturally, Randall had missed on purpose.

He was so furious that he genuinely feared he might lose control of his strength and kill that scumbag with a single blow.

Whatever else happened, he still didn't want to kill that scumbag in front of Christa.

Besides, killing someone like him would only dirty his hands.

With the way this bastard drank, Randall probably wouldn't even need to do anything. One day, he might just drop dead on his own...

Hearing the tremendous noise, Christa squirmed in Randall's arms, turning around to look behind the man.

To her astonishment, there was a huge hole in the wall, taking up almost its entire surface.

Christa's eyes went wide.

D-did Randall do that?

He's so amazing!

"I'm taking Christa with me!

I'm not asking you. I'm telling you!

If you run your mouth again, that next punch will land on you!"

Randall spoke coldly.

His voice and words were like an icy winter wind, freezing the man in place.

Once Randall had finished, he didn't bother waiting for a reaction.

He simply walked away with Christa in his arms.

The man stood there, not even moving his eyes.

Only when Randall's footsteps had faded beyond hearing did the man seem to thaw, his whole body collapsing.

He slumped like a puddle of mud, even more boneless than when he had been drunk.

The instant he collapsed, cold sweat poured out of him.

In moments, he looked as though he had been hauled out of a river.

At the same time, belated terror flooded his mind, and every muscle in his body began to tremble wildly.

He shook like a leaf.

With the wall gone, the wind blew in from outside.

He started shaking even harder.

"Hah... hah... I survived...

Fuck! What rotten luck!"

Meanwhile, Randall walked along a narrow path with Christa in his arms.

Christa buried her little face in Randall's chest, saying nothing.

"Little Crystal, forget it. Forget all of it!

Starting today, you're going to have a new life!"

Christa didn't speak. She merely nodded against his chest.

"Little Crystal, I'm a Marine.

To be precise, I'm about to become one.

I'll take you to Marine Headquarters.

Maybe you can become a Marine someday too.

..."

Randall described her future life to her.

Christa listened quietly.

When Randall finished, Christa, who had remained silent the entire time, suddenly spoke:

"Randall! I'm sorry!"

Randall paused in surprise and asked:

"Why are you apologizing?"

Was it because the little girl thought she had become a burden to him?

But Christa said:

"I-I could tell you were a good person, so I took you to my house.

Before you went there, I-I'd already thought things might turn out like this...

I just wanted to try...

Mom's gone, and I'm really a little scared..."

Christa stumbled over her words as she explained.

Randall understood the gist of it.

He stroked her little head and said:

"Are you trying to say you manipulated me?"

Christa pressed her little lips together and nodded, then stared at Randall with her large, watery eyes.

Her little face was utterly serious.

(๑• . •๑)

Randall said casually:

"No. Everything that happened was real, not some lie you made up.

So at most, you took the opportunity to accept my kindness. You also did a perfect job of saving yourself.

It has nothing to do with manipulation.

I believe anyone with a conscience would lend a hand in a situation like that.

Especially for such an endearing little girl, right?"

As he spoke, Randall couldn't resist reaching up to pinch Christa's cheek.

Then, to keep the little girl from dwelling on it, he changed the subject:

"Actually, there's something I've wanted to ask you from the start.

You said you could tell I was a good person. And earlier, you said you heard the fear in your—in that man's heart.

Can you tell me how you could tell?"

Randall watched Christa intently.

At his question, Christa fell silent for a moment, hesitation written all over her little face.

Seeing that, Randall felt he already had an idea.

He spoke gently:

"Don't be afraid, Little Crystal.

Some people are born different from others.

But that isn't a bad thing.

Quite the opposite. It's because they have extraordinary gifts.

That gives them a head start over everyone else from birth.

It's something countless people dream of but can never have.

So you don't need to worry, Little Crystal."

Perhaps Christa's reliance on Randall made his words especially convincing to her.

The little girl's conflicted expression vanished.

She lifted her little face and spoke as though she had made a momentous decision:

"Randall, ever since I was little, I've been able to hear things.

I can hear what people are really feeling in their hearts.

Oh, it's not really hearing.

No, it is hearing.

Mm, I don't know how to explain it!"