Chapter 4
These dark alleys were the same as they were in his memories. Twisted and dark, hidden from the eyes of everyone else. It was the place where the unwanted were thrown away. The ugly, the poor, the vicious, the unfortunate, all had gathered in this place.
Memories of his past flooded in as he walked through this place. An orphanage where nobody cared about children and kept them only as long as they got money from the government. Dirty streets and dark alleys where children begged for food or hid after stealing some.
He remembered it all. And how he would rather live here in the dark than try to adapt to the false light that the World Government presented itself with. At least this place didn't pretend to be something else. It was honest in its darkness and cruelty.
"Hello there, handsome." Castiel pushed the barely clothed woman away from him as she tried to approach him. "Rude."
He ignored the looks directed at him; prostitution wasn't a crime ring he was interested in, unless it led to something far worse. So, he passed by the red-light district, finding it quite normal. There was only one destination in his mind.
A place where the worst of the worst gathered. Where greed ran rampant, and desperation filled people. And when greed and desperation mixed, only the worst kind of people were created. And so, the gambling den was his destination.
Again, his memories resurfaced as he entered this place. Back then, he was just a dumb kid who didn't even know how to count, but at least he was smart enough to realize that he would only lose if he gambled in this place.
Still, kids could be used by the people running this place. And even though it paid only pennies, to someone with nothing, it was an opportunity to earn something. Even though he was worked to the bone running errands, it still allowed him to survive.
Though again, he was thankful for this place existing. Just like in the past, when this place provided him with a chance to survive, now it would give him his destined death. This rundown, dirty, dark, and desire-filled place meant everything to him.
But that didn't mean he cared about this place. He was here now only to bring it down. And those who ran this place. After all, one only needed to wonder how much blood this place sucked from people in this area to realize how evil it truly was.
"Everything on red." Sitting down on a crooked chair, Castiel placed all his cash on the roulette table.
The two hundred thousand berries he saved up for emergencies were now his ticket to get himself killed. Once he lost all his money, he would borrow more and repeat the cycle until the big shots ran his background and found that he was a Marine.
Those greedy bastards at the top would not let such an opportunity go by and would try to blackmail him. Then everything would snowball into them reaching too far, and for Castiel, fighting back against their whole organization and getting himself killed.
"Red thirty-two." Oh, he won.
Either way, he had only doubled his money. He only needed to put it on red once again and lose it all. Maybe it was even better; after all, now people would think he was hooked on the game. And maybe it was the intention of the one running this table to get him hooked.
"Everything on red again."
Putting down his money, Castiel then looked as the roulette started to spin and the small ball landed on the number five. Red once again. He won once more, earning him eight hundred thousand. Not a small amount of money, but only a couple of months' salary.
"Congratulations." A pretty girl leaned by Castiel's shoulder, then offered him a drink.
A cocktail that was sweet but had plenty of alcohol in it. If he hadn't grown up in this place, he would have fallen for the trick without even realizing it. But he was thankful; it seemed that the people here knew he was a newcomer and were going to keep him for a long time.
So, he drank the cocktail with a smile. If they wanted him drunk, he would get drunk. And he didn't think this place had a license to sell alcohol; it was another charge he would present to them when the time was right. Though he didn't think anything in this place was legal.
"Red nine." Okay, that was three times in a row; they were definitely buttering him up.
In ten minutes, Castiel had just earned half a year of his salary. And without hesitation, he once again put everything on red. It was a fifty-fifty chance to win, but these bastards must have had complete control over the odds; otherwise, he wouldn't have won three times in a row.
"Red, twenty-one."
Oh, they weren't letting him go at all. They even sent out another pretty girl to serve him drinks. Now that he had experienced the joy of winning, they probably thought he wouldn't be able to let the thrill go. He would have to seek it forever, getting completely addicted to it.
But that would only work on someone who wanted to live. And Castiel was on a mission, so he went along with their dirty tricks. If they wanted him to fatten up, he would eat his fill. Maybe he might even be able to gather some attention from someone at the top.
"Black seventeen."
"Red nineteen."
"Red thirty-six."
Since they didn't want him to leave so quickly, Castiel played it safe. No longer betting everything at once, but distributing his cash. He won one more time and then lost two times in a row. And he still had five hundred thousand berries.
"Sir?" Pretending to already be drunk, Castiel stood up from the table, and a girl quickly went to him.
"It looks like I have no luck left on this table. I probably should be satisfied with my winnings." Fixing up his clothes, Castiel stumbled forward, ready to leave.
"How about one last drink, sir, before leaving? It is on the house." But two girls wrapped their arms around his and led him to the bar instead.
"Sure, why not?"
One drink became two, and after the third, he was led to a blackjack table. Before he could even get hold of himself, he was already winning hundreds of thousands at the cards. And even though he was being careful and never finished his drinks, he was getting completely drunk anyway.
But that was fine. Letting himself be talked into betting more and more money, soon Castiel lost it all. That would be the end at most legal gambling establishments, but not there. At first, he was talked into borrowing a hundred thousand, and after he lost that, it was two hundred thousand to win it all back.
He was taken care of by those pretty girls with their silver tongues. And Castiel was sure that those free drinks he was getting were piled up on his tab. As drunk as he was, he was still able to focus on his plan and was satisfied with how it was going.
They had him completely under their thumbs. Tomorrow would be an interesting day when they came looking for him to repay the debt he owed them. For now, he continued to act devastated at his losses.
…
"Damn."
Those drinks sure made it hard to get up the next morning. Even though he tried to control how much he drank, they just gave him drinks nonstop. So, it was impossible not to get drunk; after all, that was their goal to begin with.
How much did he lose again? A couple of millions? Probably even more. It should be enough. Castiel was sure the interest rates would be borderline evil, too. So, if not today, after a few days or a week, those bastards would come looking for him and present him with a debt of millions.
But that could wait; now he needed to do his job. Washing up, putting on his clean uniform, and taking his weapons, Castiel left for the base. He would take a two-hour patrol route, then would have to deal with all that came with the duties of a Warrant Officer.
"Sir!"
Even though he didn't have any subordinates of his own, he had the highest rank among the Infantry and the Sailor Division. So, everyone had to make way for him and show him respect. It was just annoying to Castiel. He couldn't care less about it all.
"Sir! We would like to accompany you on your patrol."
"Huh?" Castiel turned his head and glared at the two Marines before him. "Tch, just don't get in my way."
Probably a couple of eager idiots wanting to get closer to him. It didn't matter, so he would let them do as they wished. He only had to deal with them for a couple of hours while doing his rounds around town.
"Yes, sir!"
They sure were a loud bunch. Castiel was already regretting his decision, but what was done was done. So, he quickly left the base with these two idiots, without even bothering to learn their names.
"Sir! Don't you think these kids look suspicious?" As they walked through the town's streets, one of the idiots pointed at a group of teenagers who were loitering around. "They definitely are planning something nefarious. I can feel it in my bones."
"If you don't shut up, I will make sure that all your bones can feel is pain."
Castiel disliked those opportunistic bastards the most. Young and foolish, they weren't bad people, even though Castiel needed to convince himself of that; they were just driven by the wrong ideology. They were only doing what they were taught.
It only brought Castiel back his bad experiences. When he brought in three kids he had caught stealing, he knew the punishment would be harsh, as there was no difference between children and adults when punishment was decided, at least in this kingdom.
But he never could have imagined that those three kids who hadn't even left puberty would catch the eye of some damn royalty. Once he heard where those kids were going to be taken, Castiel knew what he had done. He had sentenced those kids to lifelong slavery.
They didn't know, but even then, they realized they wouldn't be able to walk away once the chains were put on them. Those empty eyes that looked at Castiel were eyes of realization that their lives were ruined. But Castiel knew it was far worse than they could have imagined. And all of it so they could eat.
"But they do look suspicious, sir," another Marine dog who was with him added. "I think they are observing that liquor shop across the street. And they quickly tried to hide their faces once they noticed us."
"Maybe so, but what you have done isn't a Marine's duty," Castiel glared at the two Marines. "I don't care how suspicious people look. What kind of clothes they wear, or where they come from. We don't categorize people. We protect them. We certainly don't act only on suspicion. If they commit a crime, they are criminals. Until then, they are citizens whom we protect and serve."
"Umm, sir? A Marine's job is to serve the Government and to destroy all criminals, leaving no room for mercy or questioning."
"Who is the Government?" Castiel asked them. "I haven't seen the Government. It surely isn't the Government that cooks my food, patches my wounds, builds the houses we live in, creates our weapons, or tailors our uniforms. It is the people around you. This is my government, not some entity I have never seen, nor that has ever seen me."
Fuck, the hangover hadn't ended yet, so he got all heated. Well, it mattered little if those little dogs wanted to report his words to their superiors, and if they wanted to open some kind of investigation into him, it didn't matter much.
By the time they would even come to his file, he would be dead. He only hoped his patrol would end quickly so he wouldn't have to hear dogs barking his ears off about their stupid notion of what justice was.
A.N. As always, thanks for reading and supporting me, so I can continue writing without any concerns, and if you want more, up to seven more chapters, you can support me on pa treon. com \ ironwolf852.