I'm a magnetic field madman

Child of the Curse

This absurd and ridiculous situation is actually happening almost all over the world. People in Tokyo discriminate against these children and call it "the age of being plundered," while what about in the United States?

It's the same, there's no difference, it's just that the discriminatory practices here in Tokyo aren't as "covert".

Without legal protection and without any interest groups using the guise of "protection" to make money, the children of the curse face extremely brutal and direct discrimination in this country.

In this country, even homeless people can survive by scavenging expired and stale food thrown away from convenience stores and bakeries, but the children of the curse cannot do so.

Because they are not allowed to approach the city, they will be severely "punished" and thrown out if they are discovered.

Therefore, the children of the curse can only live on the outskirts of cities or in the corners of slums, in dark places where gloom and ugliness breed.

Drug dealers and gangsters force these children to transport drugs for them, and thugs bully them for no reason...

The police turned a blind eye to the violence they suffered and even maliciously beat them...

In this country, almost everyone is qualified to kill a girl who is not even ten years old.

Or, do something even more outrageous.

Of course, it is perhaps fortunate that the gastritis contained in the cursed children has the potential to spread through mucous membranes and even through bodily fluids, which prevented some of the more heinous and disgusting atrocities from occurring.

But... there is no limit to human perversion and ugliness.

If one cannot commit directly heinous acts, then one must do so indirectly. Or rather, it is precisely because one cannot do things directly that countless heinous "indirect" methods have been created.

Tina, who grew up in this country, had heard about these things before.

Of course, because she was chosen to be Dr. Ayn Rand's lab rat at a very young age, Tina was not "lucky" enough to come into contact with these ugly things.

Of course, being treated like a guinea pig on an experimental table and having knives scalped at will is probably not a pleasant feeling.

"This place... should be alright, right?"

With difficulty, Tina, who had only one arm, dragged Rentaro, whose eyes were lifeless and who was only holding a small box in his arms, into an abandoned attic in the slums of the west coast...

After settling Rentaro down, who was almost unresponsive like a puppet or doll, he patted Rentaro's head and whispered...

"Stay here and rest. Tina believes you can recover. Now, just relax and rest."

"Aba Aba..."

Rentaro stared blankly at the girl, his completely closed mind and heart unable to understand or comprehend her words.

He only nodded mechanically and blankly, then hugged the small box tightly in his arms.

Tina gave a slightly bitter smile. Would Rentaro recover? Tina didn't know, she really didn't know.

But she couldn't abandon Rentaro, because they were not only companions, but also because Kisara Tendo had saved Tina with his own life...

Sometimes, a heavy debt of gratitude is no different from a curse; this shackle that binds the conscience is often so heavy that it makes it hard to breathe.

She returned to the United States because it was the only place she could go, and she still held onto the hope that Dr. Ayn Rand, her "master," would help her.

Although reason told her that such hope was so slim, Tina still had to do it.

Her transmitter had been working for a long time and had sent out many messages, but still no one had come to bring her back to New York.

As long as she gets back to New York, her master won't abandon her, and he can also help Rentaro.

Tina pinned her only hope on New York, the place where she grew up. She believed there was hope there, not out of foolishness, but because it was the only "home" she could cling to.

Glug...

The rumbling of her stomach echoed in the dusty attic. Tina stood up, realizing she had no food and no money left.

Her expression was somewhat blank, because she had grown up in a laboratory and had never experienced "making money," only knowing that there was a general concept of it.

She understood the common sense that food needs money to buy, but she wondered how to earn money.

Tina was silent for a moment. The one-armed girl combed her dry hair, which looked brittle from not taking care of it for a long time, and said softly...

"Wait for me, I'll bring the food back right away."

Rentaro didn't react, nor could he. After forcibly stopping the rampaging magnetic field, his closed-off emotions prevented him from expressing anything.

But there is no doubt that he can see, he can hear, and he can receive any external information.

He simply couldn't react at all.

Like a pool with its outlet sealed, the flow of information keeps flowing into his pool, while the things that should be discharged, called emotions, are stuck in the pool and cannot move.

Sunlight streamed through the narrow cracks in the attic, and the dust motes, which had been drifting aimlessly in the light, slowly dispersed.

"Aba Aba..."

Rentaro gently stroked the pattern on the box in his arms. He tried to express something, but he couldn't do anything.

As darkness fell and the attic's darkness and silence seemed to engulf everything, Tina finally returned.

That once lovely dress was now disheveled and stained with mud, and her adorable face bore several inconspicuous scars...

However, the several pieces of packaged bread and synthetic food she carried in her arms were intact.

Tina left most of it for Rentaro, and quietly ate the remaining small portion herself in a corner.

Rentaro blinked, staring blankly at Tina as she uttered "Aba aba," her body trembling slightly.

"You don't need to worry about me. As long as you take care of yourself, Tina will be happy. Think of Miss Tendo; we must live well."

Tina watched Rentaro's actions, then gently stepped forward and placed the food near his mouth.

It seemed that mentioning Tendo Kisara caused Rentaro's blank expression to finally change slightly, and he mechanically opened his mouth to eat the food.

From then on, these days repeated themselves one after another...

Unable to move or make any expression, Rentaro lay motionless in the dust of the attic, quietly waiting for Tina to return.

Sometimes she would bring some food, sometimes she would bring back some money... and all that money would be kept inside Rentaro's pillow.

Sometimes Tina came back covered in wounds, sometimes she only had some bruises, and sometimes her clothes were just a little disheveled.

But each time, she always brought back food and some money.

"As long as I save enough money to go to New York, everything will be alright."

Tina would repeat this phrase every time she fed Rentaro and wiped his body.

Things will get better as long as I save enough money and can go back to New York.

And what about Rentaro? He still hasn't improved at all, like a piece of wood that can't speak or move.

This rigid and continuous life went on for a very long time, and Rentaro, in the attic, was unaware of the passage of time.

He just held the box in his arms, motionless.

One day, Rentaro, who was staring blankly at the entrance of the attic, heard a noise during the day.

He turned his head with difficulty and saw a person falling out of the attic window.

A black man wearing a hip-hop style hoodie and earrings who didn't look like a good guy.

Upon seeing Rentaro roar, a string of English words burst from his mouth, and Rentaro's mind could only manage to translate some of them with difficulty...

What? Following that girl was definitely the right thing to do. She even has a paralyzed gigolo she's keeping.

What? That girl doesn't have a hand, but she's really efficient at her work...

Rentaro's expression remained unchanged; his locked heart could receive any information, but could not express any emotion.

Even the slightest bit of anger.

"Aba aba." Rentaro could only stare wide-eyed, repeating the same sound over and over... and the black man clearly didn't intend to say anything more to this paralyzed man.

He immediately started searching the entire attic, but after a fruitless search, he kept uttering "fuck" before finally fixing his gaze on the box in Rentaro's arms.

His eyes lit up, and he reached out to snatch it without hesitation. Rentaro tried desperately to grab it, but the black man couldn't budge him after several attempts. He then cursed and began punching and kicking Rentaro!

During the argument and fight, the pillow behind Rentaro flew off, and among the scattered banknotes, the black man's expression lit up. He immediately kicked Rentaro away and collected the money.

That's obviously why he came.

But is this his only purpose in coming here?

It's like having a fifty-dollar bill and a hundred-dollar bill in front of you and being asked which one to take.

Only children would say they want a hundred dollars; greedy adults would say they want it all.

"Ohdarling, Lookatyoursturdylittlewhiteass——"

With foul language that Rentaro couldn't and didn't want to translate, the black man flipped Rentaro over, and with a lewd smile, pulled down his pants.

Rentaro, with his head buried in the blanket, could not utter a sound or make any expression, only his trembling body.

62. Falling into the hell of suffering

Suffering has no end, and the idea of ​​hitting rock bottom and rebounding is a paradox that doesn't exist.

Because you never know where the "bottom" you're about to touch is, and it might just be the lowest abyss you can never reach.

When Tina returned, battered and bruised, with only her earnings and food, she was met with a scene that undoubtedly plunged her into even deeper suffering.

She stared blankly at the chaotic room, her hard-earned savings stolen, and the people she was supposed to protect gone...

Tina finally couldn't hold back anymore and broke down in tears.

Setting aside the knowledge and understanding forcibly instilled in her during her time as a weapon in the laboratory, Tina is actually only under ten years old, just a child in the conventional sense.

At an age when she should be learning and growing peacefully in elementary school, she has to bear responsibilities that should not belong to her and suffer pain that she should not have to endure.

But there's nothing particularly surprising about that.

In this country, in this world, there are many people who are just as miserable as her, or even more miserable. At least, Rentaro in front of her is much more miserable than her.

The tragedy of falling into the abyss of suffering continues to unfold... yet the road to the deepest, most profound despair seems far from over.

"Aba Aba..."

Rentaro reached out with difficulty and touched Tina's head, as if to comfort her and reassure her that she was alright.

He didn't suffer too much physical harm, after all, even if his power couldn't be exerted due to his closed and accumulated inner self, his body had still been modified.

But this resilience may have become one of the sources of his continued suffering.

He suffered far more mental anguish than physical pain.

But he doesn't have that ability now; he has no capacity to express his emotions.

For him, suffering was nothing more than acceptance, suppressing his emotions within his unexpressed heart.

He felt nothing, not even humiliation... but these emotions wouldn't disappear; they were just suppressed in his heart.

Tina finished crying, because crying wouldn't change anything.

She silently finished cleaning up the messy attic, washed Rentaro's soiled body, wrapped him in a blanket, and silently carried him away.

This place is no longer safe; they need to find a new place to live. But where can they find a safe place here, in this place that has been swallowed up by danger and ugliness?

Rentaro, being carried on Tina's back, saw what this neighborhood looked like at night for the first time.

Women dressed provocatively and flamboyantly are everywhere, and many of them are, in fact, young girls.

Some cursed children are forced into this industry because they can't find work, can't afford food, or can't afford the cheapest inhibitors.

They cannot provide the final step, but they can provide many, many "services" before the final step.

Because of the Cursed Children's extremely high physical plasticity and powerful regenerative abilities, they can satisfy the perverse and harmful fetishes of many customers.

Their eyes were empty, devoid of any hope, filled only with a despairing sense of living one day at a time. No one has the right to condemn them, because they have given everything just to survive.

"Aba Aba..."

"Don't worry, Rentaro, I don't do that kind of thing." Tina tugged closer to Rentaro behind her and whispered...

The dazzling lights and bustling city, the vast and towering metropolis, the great nation praised by countless people sitting in chairs typing on keyboards—yet there is no place for any of these children.

No, it's not just these children; there are countless more suffering in silence...

Listen to those living in paradise in the depths of despair, praising how wonderful this world is.

Celebrating suffering is something even the most wicked devil wouldn't do, but humans can.

Humans are neither worthy nor need to protect anything.

Because even if it leads to a 99% bright and promising future...