Six Of Foxes (Six Foxes)

Ken

Ken darted across the top-level cells while glancing back at each bar for a few seconds. Erikson couldn't have been here. And he doesn't have much time.

    Part of him felt lost his mind. He didn't bring a stick. Naked feet. He was wearing foreign clothes, his hands were pale and uncoated. He doesn't feel like himself at all. No, it's not like that. He felt like Ken in the weeks after Keiko died, like a wild animal, fighting for survival.

    Ken saw inmate Kuwei wobbling on the back of one of the cells. The most difficult part is, the face of the scientist has been overhauled and get a new face so as not to be too flashy. Does it have to be? Or rather double-level security?

    "Sesh-kyeh" whispered Ken. Etz Djel told him the word, it was kind of a code word that there would be a rescue group coming to get Erikson out, and Erikson knew it. However, even if the man knew the password, he did not show it. "Erik?" There was no reaction. The man started yelling at Ken in Kuwei and Ken hurriedly stepped aside, passed other cells, then slipped into the bordes and descended as quickly as possible to the next level. He knew his attitude was careless, selfish, but wasn't that why he was nicknamed the Dirty Hand? No job is too risky. No deed is beyond reproach. Dirty hands will ensure that the rough work can be completed.

    He is not sure what motivated him. Rav Frederic might not be here. Maybe that guy is dead. Ken does not believe it. I must know he's not dead. Anyway I'll know. "Your job is mine" he whispered.

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Swimming from the slaughter island back to Kalterville became a moment of Ken's rebirth. The boy died of smallpox. The fever burned away all the tenderness within him.

    Surviving was not as difficult as he thought after he had let go of his propriety. The first rule was to find someone smaller and weaker then rob him of what he had. Although-because Ken himself is small and weak-it is not easy. He left the harbor, holding out in the alleyways, leading to the neighborhood where the Bartholo family lived. When he saw the candy store, he stopped outside, then intercepted a fat schoolboy who was left behind behind his friends. Ken dropped the boy, emptied his pockets, and took out a bag of his innate liquorice.

    "Give me your pants" said Ken.

    "My pants are great for you" cried the boy.

    Ken bites. The boy handed over his trousers. Ken clumped the pants and threw them into the canal, then ran away as fast as his weak legs could carry them. He didn't want pants; he just didn't want the boy to roar for help. He knew the schoolboy would curl up for some time in the alley, weighing the shame of wandering half-naked in the streets with the necessity to go home and tell the story.

    Ken stopped running at the darkest alley he found in Krisbow. He stuffed all the liquorice into his mouth at once, swallowed a lot until it hurt, and immediately vomited out the snack. He brought money to buy a hot baking sheet of fresh bread. He's barefoot and musty. The baker gave him an extra pan just to kick him out.

    When Ken felt somewhat stronger, no longer too trembling, he walked to Eastern Kharfa. He came upon a seedy gambling den, which was unsightly and was only enlivened by a scalper who was screaming outside.

    "I'm asking for work" Ken said at the door.

    "No work, son."

    "I'm good at counting."

    The man laughed. "Can you clean the potty?"

    "Can."

    "Well, honey. We've hired a boy to clean the potty."

    Ken waited all night until he saw a boy his age leave the building. He followed the boy two blocks away, then hit him on the head with a rock. Ken grabbed the boy's leg and took off his shoe, then slashed his heel with a broken bottle. The boy will recover, but he won't be able to work for a while. Touching the bare skin on his eyes made Ken sick. He constantly imagined the white bodies on the Island, the Barge of Death, feeling Keiko's bulging skin under his hands.

    The next night, Ken returned to the gambling den. "I asked for work" he said. And he also got a job.

    From there he worked, cut, and saved. He followed professional thieves at Krisbow and learned to pickpocket and cut the ribbon for women's purses. He was sent to prison for the first time, then for the second time. He soon gained a reputation as a person willing to do any work, while the name Dirty Hands followed shortly after. He's an unskilled but persistent fighter.

    "You're nothing subtle," a Silver Garter gambler once told him. "No technique."

    "Of course you have" Ken said, strengthening his hand. Pull his shirt over his head and fist until his blood comes out. Erin said at the time. At least Ken was a little grateful for helping how to fight back then, fighting for revenge. And Erin's teachings will befall her alone.

    He's still called Ken, just like he used to be, but he stole Lunark's name from the Noble Vampire novel he saw in Keiko's favorite shop. Hardoviel, his surname, he dropped, he cut like a rotten leg. The name is a risk, his last liaison with Keiko and his father and his former self. Moreover, he did not want Aang Bartholo to see his arrival.

    He discovers that the ruse Bartholo played on him and Keiko is prevalent. His coffee shop and magnificent blue house were mere stilts, used to memorize the fools from the village. Filip and his dogs are anglers, who used to ensnare Keiko, while Magit, Diana, and the clerks at the trade office are the helpers in the scam. One of the bank employees must have participated, namely by passing information about consumers to Bartholo and telling him about the new arrival from the village that opened a new account. Bartholo probably carried out the ruse by targeting multiple targets at once. It was impossible for him to organize massively for Keiko's meager possessions.

    However, the most cruel finding was Ken's talent for playing cards. That skill might just make Ken and Keiko rich. Once he learned a game, Ken was already proficient in just a matter of hours and then he was simply invincible. He remembers every card he has played, every bet placed. He can keep track of what cards have been issued for any game that is maxed out using a five-card set. And if there's nothing he remembers, Ken tricked him into cheating. His penchant for hand dexterity never subsided and he rose from hiding coins to hiding cards, cups, purses, and pocket watches. Magicians are not much different than pure thieves. In a short time, he was already banned from entering all gambling dens in Eastern Kharfa.

    Then, one day, Ken was crossing a bridge in Eastern Kharfa when he saw a man with reddish cheeks and mince-flagged plots entering a gin shop. He no longer wears a black-colored drapery, but rather a striped trouser and a paisley-patterned red vest. The coat is green bottle.

    Ken penetrated the crowd, his mind racing, his heart pounding, unsure of what to do, but at the shop door, a giant bowler-hatted bouncer stopped Ken with a plump hand.

    "Stores are closing."

    "I can see that the store is open." Ken's voice sounded awkward in his own ears-loirih, foreign.

    "You have to wait."

    "I have to meet Aang Bartholo."

    "Who?"

    Ken almost jumped off his own skin. He pointed to the window. "The bastard was Bartholo. I want to talk to him."

    The bouncer looked at Ken as if he had gone mad. "Clear your head, son," he said. "That's not Bartholo. He's Rav Frederic. If you're going to advance in Krisbow, you'll have your name."

    Ken knew the name Rav Frederic. Everyone knows too. It's just that he never saw the man.

    At that moment, Frederic turned to the window. Ken waited for his confession - a grin, a sneering smile, signs that the man recognized him. However, Frederic's gaze just flashed past him. Ken is just a target. Just a victim. How could he remember?

    Ken has been assessed by many gangs for liking his fists and his card-playing skills. He always refused. Ken came to Krisbow to find Bartholo and punish him, not to play with families. However, everything changes after he learns that his target is Rav Frederic. That night, lying prostrate on the floor of the empty building where he was staying and thinking about his wishes, what revenge was right for Keiko. Rav Frederic has taken everything from Ken. If Ken intends to do the same to Frederic, he must become equal and then higher than Frederic, when he cannot achieve that alone. He needs a gang and not just any gang, but a gang that needs him. The next day, Ken came to Easd and asked Lin Ginger if the man still needed any men. Nevertheless, Ken knew from the beginning: He would be a career as an accomplice of the anchovy class, but Geak would be his army. Keiko's grudge must be paid off. He should have danced with her. (Eps 40)

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Did all those steps get him here tonight? To this dark corridor? The revenge he dreamed of was not like this.

    Rows of cells stretch on and on, endless, endless. There's no way he could find Frederic. However, the impossible is only impossible until proven otherwise, until Ken sees the large stature and reddish face from behind bars of an iron door. The impossible was only impossible until he stood before Rav Frederic's cell.

    The man was lying next to me, sleeping. Someone had beaten him to a pulp. Ken pulled his chest up and down.

    How long has Ken seen Rav since his first glance at the gin shop? Frederic never seemed to recognize him as that little boy. Ken's not a kid anymore, so how can Rav recognize a little kid who's been tricked on his face? However, Frederic's indifference actually makes Ken angry every time they cross the road. It shouldn't be. Rav's face-the Bartholo-face-has been glued to Ken's mind, incised there by a serrated knife.

    Ken is now sculpting, feeling the light weight of the key-puller like an insect crawling the palm of his hand. Isn't this what he wanted? Seeing Rav humiliated, humiliated, languishing and desperate, losing his best crew who died snuggled in a stake. Maybe this is enough. Maybe now Ken just needs to tell Rav who he is, exactly what the man has done. Ken can hold a trial alone, drop the verdict, and run the verdict as well.

    Ghantaclock began to squint the three-quarter-hour mark. He's got to go. The time left to descend into the basement was not much. Silva must have been waiting for him. They must have been waiting for him.

    But this is what he needs. This is what he fought for. Reality turns out not to be what Ken imagined, but it might make no difference. If Rav Frederic is put to death by an anonymous Barchen executioner, all this is in vain. Ken will get Sixty million cairo, but Keiko's revenge won't pay off.

    The door lock opened easily thanks to Ken's mess. His luck has returned, even more lightly.

    Rav's eyes opened and he smiled. The man apparently did not sleep.

    "Hello, Lunark," said Rav. "Come to brag?"

    "Not really," said Ken.

    Ken left the door slammed shut behind him.