How to Make a Sinner Sleep - Chapter 18: Chapter 18

He adjusted his collar of his white shirt, pulling at the dusted brown jacket that hung a little too loose on his arms. Fixing the soft hat over his head to draw shadows over his pale green gaze, he strolled through the town.
Kaden didn't really have to pull off a performance, sneaking to the sides of the streets, weaving away from larger crowds.
This had once been his playing field.
It was later in the evening, and most children had run home, while stalls packed up for the night. There were the sounds of chatter within the warmly lit homes, the cautious glares of those roaming the streets.
Back hunched, head lowered, Kaden slunk off to the darker alleys, melding with the gloom of the night.
He caught sight of a familiar voice, a scratchy, unpleasant tone that grated against his ears. And the abusive words still rung clearly, fresh in memory.
Kaden glanced around, slipping past the lumbering men and women, and following the sound. The man—Arlo's father, entered a run down bar, knocking thrice and muttering a few words in a gruff whisper.
Leaning against a wall, Kaden frowned.
A password protected bar?
For the several locations in the slums, most didn't choose to enter such places. Not because they weren't good, or overly costly, but most within had similar twisted objectives.
The word 'Inky Tavern' hung in the creaking sign above.
If Kaden remembered correctly, this was a place for information. Where nobles came and went, hiring thugs to commit whatever dirty deeds they sought.
Kaden swallowed.
Reed had frequented these places often, but not for reasons Kaden knew. The man had been planning something for so many years, hidden under wraps. To the end, Kaden had not been able to decipher the man he lived most of his life with.
Kaden's missions were to kill targets that went against Reed, to silence and to spy on certain people that lost the man's favour.
He could not disobey any orders, with the curse of obedience tainting his flesh.
Uneasiness washed over the lurking man, and he tugged the hat even further down. A more elaborate disguise stood out instead of blending in, and it would be a waste to turn back.
Though Kaden knew when and when not to run.
The rules of the street were simple. Have no pride, if pride meant sacrificing your life. To run may be cowardly, but to not run was stupidity. What was pride except for a feeling people held onto, hoping to feel a little better about themselves?
Breathing calmly, he strolled to the door and knocked three times. It opened a sliver, and a large man peered down at him viciously.
"And you are?"
An arrogant smile curved on the pale lips, and the man raised his chin slightly to look up, eyes a chilling, discernible colour.
"I have some services I'm seeking tonight." said Kaden quietly, relaxed and ill-natured, shrugging his shoulders. "My patience is limited."
The guard narrowed his eyes. "Your name?"
"It won't be listed—I was recommended by a friend who wishes to be unnamed. It won't do for your business if you continue to... hinder me."
A shiver rushed up the guard's back. Trained for fights, he knew how to sense danger when he saw it, a nauseating sensation that crawled up his back like a million ants. The relaxed expression of the person before him was noble and threatening.
Kaden slowly flipped a knife out of his pocket, spinning it around casually, toying with it like a game. He flashed a symbol—three lines to form a star.
It was a knife Reed had given him long ago.
A gift pressed to his palms as the young prince had told him to be weary, to be careful, to protect himself, always.
The guard recognized the symbol immediately and flinched, rushing to open the door. Fear coated his features, and he lowered his head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I have failed to mistaken one of—"
"I'm nobody special." smiled Kaden, stepping inside as he peered around the dimmed bar. "The family's mutt, you could say."
However, those three words made the guard pale even more.
Who didn't know the Royal Family's dog?
His short temper, and lazy attitude even as he stood drowning in a cycle of blood, or corpses mutilated beyond recognition.
Watching the changing expressions, Kaden chuckled and offered a single word of tease. "Woof."
Although said in a joking manner, the guard swallowed and hurried back to the door, apologizing a few more times. However, it wasn't simply Kaden's own reputation that stirred such a reaction.
The people in this place knew exactly what kind of person their darling prince was. The Crown Prince, Reed Chauvet, who the citizens revered.
In such a filthy place where facades crumbled, Reed's true nature showed.
He sauntered into the place calmly, though careful not to stand out too much. He could pretend to be investigating something if Reed questioned him, but it would still be no good to reveal himself.
Vague anxiety tugged at his chest. It'd been a while since he entered such a place, between his past life in a modern time, and the many years in isolation.
The grumbled discussion, the greedy glint in slanted eyes. The wretched stench of alcohol and filth that lined every cabinet and counter. Kaden closed his eyes and found himself a seat in a quiet corner to the side.
He ordered himself a drink—not doing so would be strange. Then he glanced to the side, swirling the glass in his hand, composed.
As if he were indifferent to the matters around him.
A woman sat down beside him, drowned in the scent of heavy perfume and decorated with even heavier makeup, clothes outlining her figure and revealing her flawless skin.
She smiled, a sultry voice. "What brings you here today, sir?"
Kaden glanced at her. He'd almost forgotten the other aspect of these bars, the drinking and then the pleasure. It didn't discriminate against gender, with all sorts of people throwing themselves at patrons under the lowlights.
His plain clothing didn't disguise his attitude, the way he carried himself.
The woman in particular, well versed in observing people, knew the man before her wasn't somebody simple. She shuffled closer, pressing her chest against his still arm.
Kaden remained indifferent.
He didn't judge those who came here, hoping to find somebody who could support them—a life free from the slums, away from days of starvation, was something people would do anything for.
But he didn't indulge in it either. Arrogance had slipped into his bones in the past, but he drew the line at this. He didn't want involvement in the temporary pleasure.
Instead, Kaden smiled loosely, taking a light sip of his drink. He licked a droplet of liquid from his lips, raising his chin to glance over.
"I'm here waiting for somebody."
She laughed. "Aren't we all waiting for somebody in here? Why don't I keep you company until then?"
"Unfortunately, I'm not interested."
"Oh, but I insist." She pushed further again, revealing her cleavage between two slender arms. There were a few bruises running along her wrist, carrying up.
Malnourished and sickly. Kaden had no doubt that dark bags hid under the makeup, and her stomach grumbled for food.
The woman noticed Kaden's glance and smiled flirtatiously. "Are you interested? I'm rather open to many things—I could show you an entirely different world."
Kaden stared at her and then laughed.
"What I'm seeking is an entirely different world."
She beamed. "Should I take that as your agreement?"
"No, it's a world you can't provide."
A frown of displeasure pushed her rose-red lips. She was confident in her technique, and her ability to socialize, as well as her looks. "In what way can I not provide, sir?"
Kaden pointed down to where her skirt hung over her thighs, and she lowered her eyes, confused. She looked back up and Kaden smiled shamelessly before replying in a calm, matter-of-fact tone,
"I'm afraid you don't have the right parts."
A flush overtook her cheeks, and she turned away in an instant, not bothering to continue the conversation. She rushed away, searching for a different target.
She ended up settling on a wealthy-looking, but young man who politely offered a seat beside him.
Kaden sighed lightly, hoping for some quiet to find his target within the cluster of people. It wasn't hard to discern the disguised nobles, often donning masks, and the poor, seeking any job possible.
However, just as he breathed, a voice slithered by his ear. "I heard your conversation—and I have the right parts."
Kaden shuddered in disgust, his stomach rolling.
There was a well-dress youth standing beside him, fiddling with their fingers shyly. In fact, their voice had been coquettish and sweet, but the unexpected words had seriously scared Kaden.
Almost straight out of a horror story, Kaden was worried he'd jump out of his skin. Actually, he would probably prefer a ghost in this situation.
He was a person who valued personal space.
As in, please stay at least three meters away at all times.
The boy's state was worse than the woman earlier, practically stick and bones. There was nearly no flesh on his body, and likely drew pity when coupled with a tender expression.
Kaden furrowed his eyebrows. It wasn't as if he were completely indifferent, but he couldn't provide for every person.
They'd chosen this sort of life from desperation; and Kaden could understand.
That the first time the boy came to one of these bars, he'd likely been dressed in skimpy clothing, trembling and fearful. He probably cried when hands fell on his skin, wanted to scrub viscously until he bled.
Or perhaps he adjusted to his fate from the beginning. Perhaps he sought this out because it brought his pleasure and a means of living at the same time.
Who was Kaden to know?
To make the assumption based on a few words exchanged, and appearance?
"I'm not interested." Kaden stated bluntly.
He couldn't provide anything, with a few coins in his pocket, and a family that would likely kill anybody he showed any romantic interest in.
Kaden understood helplessness, the feeling of being unable to do anything.
But it was there because that was exactly how it was—he really couldn't do anything. He could strip and give the clothes on his body, but that would give the boy perhaps a single coin in comparison to his usual tasks.
That wasn't what this youth wanted.
He would not be grateful for Kaden's futile and useless pity.
The boy looked as if he were about to insist, and Kaden shook his head, giving a forced chuckle. "You see, I would really like to. But my hobbies would likely break you."
"B-break? I can handle a lot! Really!"
The boy stepped forward, almost desperately. He clutched his clothes, a withered leaf that could be blown away at any moment. Kaden wanted to reject him calmly, but it seemed that such a method wouldn't work.
Kaden glanced at him and put on a solemn expression before sprouting all sorts of profanities.
"Is that so? I like to **** and use a variety of **** and actually, I've also taken an interest in bondage and certain plays such as *****. I'm quite the sadist, and I particularly enjoy ******—"
Before he could finish speaking, the youth paled and spun around as well.
Between the youth and the woman, various rumours now spread about a certain man sitting in the corner of the bar. Dressed in plain clothing, although his appearance may seem domineering and charming, they should be warned!
It was a pervert in disguise! A shameless man who sought all kinds of terrible plays, a hardcore sadist who sought out men!
Kaden heard a few of the comments and turned a blind eye.
They were living life the only way they could, and he was as well. He would keep on living, enduring, sinking into depravity.
A coldness shimmered over his gaze.
He focused back on the task at hand; he'd been getting too distracted. Not exactly by choice, but he had to return at an orderly time. His thoughts flickered to Noah, likely still lounging in bed with a book in hand, and the soft glow of light beside him.
For a moment, he wondered if that dragon was waiting for him to return, if merely out of habit and obligation for a fellow roommate.
"Tsk, I'm following that damn noble's tasks, and he still hadn't paid me enough!"
The voice of complaint snapped Kaden out of his thoughts, and he darted his gaze over to a nearby table. He recognized Arlo's father immediately—they had the same drooping, tired eyes, and angled eyebrows.
Only, the man was dressed in ripped clothing and his beard had grown scruffy, while he bared his yellowed teeth.
He was nowhere as skinny compared to Arlo.
Kaden picked up his glass, casually moving through the crowd and turning his head, as if looking for a new location. Due to the earlier rumours, most parted their way to let him through.
He settled in a nearby seat, a single table, and gazed into the distance.
Arlo's father continued to rant. "I've been following his instructions for so long, taking care of that brat after his mother died! And here I am, barely making by."
The other man at the table scoffed. "You're making a hell more than the lot of us, alright. You're an alcoholic, wasting half your gold on these pointless matters. You've only yourself to blame, Yoser."
Yoser slammed his glass on the table, snapping out in his drunken slur.
"Like hell! I have to pay a hell amount to take care of that fool at home! What a waste, tch. I'd have sold him long ago, if it wasn't for the deal."
"Ha! What nonsense are you speaking, that boy's hardly got any flesh on him."
Kaden narrowed his stare, prickling anger restrained. He rolled a stone in his pocket, leaning forward slightly, pretending to be affected by the alcohol. It was a magical item that he'd stolen from Reed a while back, not that the man cared.
A recording stone.
It could capture sound and movement with vivid clarity.
The other man gave a hearty chuckle. "You could sell the boy, why don't you? Your benefactor won't know, the boy will still be alive and you'll also make some cash on the side."
"Say, do you think I could? He takes after his mother, a pretty one at that."
"Sure you could, I'd be first in line for a taste."
A youth wandered by the table Kaden sat, and flinched as they glanced down. The man's fingers were pressed into the table, violently crushing the hardwood as he closed his eyes and leaned back.
Anger simmered in his relaxed expression, creating a dark contrast that made one involuntarily scared.
Kaden cracked one eye open and smiled. "Need something?"
"No... no, I'm okay!"
"Then run along." muttered the man. "I'm in no mood to talk."
The youth nodded obediently and rushed away. They hadn't even been trying to approach him, only trying to slip by—but they were too scared to retort.
Kaden fumbled with the stone in his pocket, seeming to be half awake, but he was restraining the urge to slam the man's head onto the table. How dare they speak about a child in such a manner.
Yoser's own flesh and blood—how dare he.
However, if they were truly one of Reed's marks, and the benefactor was that twisted father, then Kaden really could do something.
Reed didn't allow anybody to cross or stand in his way.
He would make Yoser become Reed's 'target'.