The wind in the Edo period always carried a bone-piercing chill, especially in that reeking slum.
"Beat him! Hit him harder! This little son of a bitch actually dared to steal from me!"
Brutal curses echoed through the cramped alley, accompanied by the dull thuds of clubs striking flesh. I curled up in the muddy water, both hands clamped over the few copper coins tucked against my chest. That was the money that would save my father's life.
The clubs rained down, and my bones groaned under the unbearable blows. Blood ran from my forehead into my eyes, turning the whole world scarlet.
"Born a thief, but you've got some tough bones! Hand over the money!" A man with a brutal face stepped on the back of my hand and ground down hard.
I gritted my teeth without making a sound, only clutching the copper coins against my chest even tighter. I couldn't let go. Absolutely not. My father was still at home, coughing violently. He needed medicine.
"Sir, don't beat him to death. The look in this brat's eyes is creepy," one of the lackeys beside him said timidly.
"What are you scared of? He's just a lowlife!" The man spat. "Drag him to the Magistrate's Office. Let him take another beating there, and have them give him a new tattoo while they're at it!"
By the time the crude iron needle pierced my arm, I had already grown numb to that searing pain.
There was another tattoo marking me as a criminal on my arm. Three tattoos, as though proclaiming to the entire world that I was a hopeless sinner.
But I didn't care. As long as I could buy medicine, as long as my father could live, I didn't care if my whole body was covered in