"I thought I saw a green-skinned giant when they beat me up," Brandon told Zach and Mika. "But that's all I know. They sedated me whenever I moved."

"That's..." Mika murmured, tearing open a pack of gauze pads. "Um, it won't hurt you so much that way, but..." Her eyes traveled down his bandaged leg. The dirt and blood on the fabric formed a tread pattern. "No, that's still so mean of them!"

"What a smart move," Zach responded, still cleansing the gashes on Brandon's torso. "That way, you can never learn about them."

Brandon nodded. But I bet Millennion agents now know where to look for them. He looked at his wounds, which were red and gaping with a small amount of blood oozing out. For a moment, he wondered if he could join the agents when they searched the mountainous region of Billion. But in such condition, he couldn't possibly go out without upsetting Mika. Biscoe wouldn't let him work either, but if the mob boss changed his mind... No. Mika wouldn't hesitate to yell at Biscoe. She might even bring up about her biological father - the founder of Millennion - when she felt like it.

Zach pulled away and tossed the bloody gauze pad into the trash can. "Give me a piece of antibiotic-coated gauze, kiddo." But he didn't receive anything from Mika, even after many seconds passed. It prompted him to turn and stare at her.

Brandon shifted his gaze to Mika, who was busy applying antibiotic salve on the gauze. Zach might snap at her and start a squabble soon, so Brandon asked, "Doctor, why not use necrolyzation serum on the gauze?"

Zach turned to him, pointing at the syringe pump on the IV stand. "You're already receiving some refined serum. As your wounds heal, we just have to prevent infection. Antibiotics will do, so you don't have to waste too much money on the standard serum."

"Will my wounds heal slower because of using antibiotics instead of serum?"

"Aren't you supposed to know that already? Or maybe Dr. William never explained to you about how the serum works?"

Brandon kept his face straight, although he knew he'd made a wrong move. Any answer would lead to an unpleasant response, be it telling the truth or a lie. If he admitted that he knew it, Zach would call him a smartass. Meanwhile, if he lied by saying that he'd forgotten about the theory, Zach would make fun of him. On the other hand, if he said that William never explained about the serum, Zach would mock William.

"Doc," Mika suddenly called, "here's the gauze."

"Oh, well, forget about it. I have things to do." Zach turned to Mika, picking up the large piece of antibiotic-coated gauze in her gloved hands.

As the doctor placed the gauze on the wounds, Brandon smiled at Mika. His little girl responded to his tacit gratitude with a "you're welcome" smile.

Many minutes passed with Zach bandaging his torso. He wished Mika had wrapped that roll of fabric around him instead. Sure, the doctor could do it much faster with a neater result, but he just lacked the gentle hands Mika had. Also, whenever Mika treated his wounds, sweet memories would play in his mind. He would see Maria, Mika's mother and his old love, cleansing the scrapes on his limbs.

He wondered how his life would've been if he had married her. It would've been great to have someone comfort you whenever you were sad, prepare your meal whenever you were hungry, bake tasty fruit pies whenever you wanted some sweet snacks... But that was selfish. He was a hitman, someone who murdered people on regular basis for money. If the family of his victims decided to take revenge on him, they would target Maria as well.

Memories of his last moments with Marcus flooded his mind all of a sudden.

===

Today, Marcus brought a six-year-old Brandon to what a kid would describe as a house with a playground. Many children either ran around its massive yard or played with the seesaws, swings, or slides.

As Marcus spoke to the chubby, brown-haired man inside the house, Brandon looked through the window. He smiled, wondering how soon he could join those happy kids. He turned to Marcus, mentally urging his busy uncle to stop talking with the man already.

His wish came true about a minute later. But he noticed something strange with Marcus; the man walked towards him with tears brimming in his eyes. He'd miss him as he had fun perhaps? Curious, Brandon rushed to him and gave him a big hug.

Marcus returned the hug. "Have fun. I'll miss you."

Brandon couldn't help but giggle. How strange. He'd never thought that his Uncle Marcus would cry at something so simple. "But Uncle will come back to take me home, right?"

As Marcus pulled away, Brandon heard a sorrowful, "No."

That word slammed right into his fragile heart. Tearing up, he asked, "Why?" Marcus simply walked past him and towards the exit door, but he insisted, "Why, Uncle? Why?" Still receiving no answer, he decided to question something that broke his heart further. "Was it because I was a bad boy? Was it because I screamed every night and woke you up?" When Marcus had reached and opened the door, Brandon ran towards his uncle. "Please don't leave me, Uncle! I'm so sorry!"

Marcus turned around, telling him in a painful, yet gentle voice, "I understand that, kid. You said you had nightmares about Rafael and his goons every night, so I understand if you often wake up and scream and cry at night." Tears trickled down his cheeks as he patted Brandon's head. "See? I don't leave you because of that. I leave you because..." He looked down. "I'm a hitman, a murderer. People will soon make me pay for my crimes."

Brandon only stood still with a gaping mouth. If his uncle had to pay for his crimes, how could it possibly involve Brandon?

Marcus turned away. "I'm sure that you won't understand what I mean right now. But when you grow up, especially if you happen to be a hitman, you'll understand why." Stepping out, before closing the door, he said, "I love you, Brandon."

===

"Brandon, you're crying again! You're hurt?"

Brandon jerked away in shock. Thanks to a gentle swipe across his eye, he quickly regained his focus. Mika stood beside him with a slightly wet piece of gauze in her hands, her blue eyes showing a great deal of concern.

He heard Zach say from afar, "Quit it, stupid girl. Necrolyzers can't feel pain."

Mika stared at Zach and hissed, "Shut up, old geezer. I'm not finished with my question." She looked back at him and wiped his tears with the gauze. "You remembered something bad? Somebody hurt you?"

Brandon sat still. He couldn't say that Marcus did something bad to him; the mafioso might've left him in the orphanage, but it was for his sake. If Brandon had stayed with him, when Rafael attacked Marcus, he would've died or worse, ended up as a child slave.

It seemed like Mika read his almost non-existent reaction as: "Not really, but I'll explain later." She smiled and pulled away, handing Brandon the gauze before heading to the trolley.

He shifted his attention to Zach. The doctor's face remained straight as he cleansed Brandon's mangled leg, but from the doctor's long silence, Brandon could tell that he wasn't pleased.

An hour later, after bandaging Brandon's leg and removing all the infusions, Zach told him, "Your wounds are still healing, but I doubt you like spending the rest of your day inside the trailer. If you're sick of the colorless environment of this trailer, you may go out and wander around the parking basement." He looked at Mika, who was throwing the used bandage and gauze into the trash can. "Just tell your little girl to get your wheelchair ready. Don't worry. A few movements won't reopen your wounds as long as you're careful."

When Zach had left, Mika dragged a swivel chair towards Brandon's bed. "Um, I think the doctor forgot to tell you the good news. When you were sleeping, he told me that your wounds might heal as early as tomorrow." She sat on the chair and smiled. "Your wounds aren't too deep, so they'll heal very fast."

Brandon nodded with a broad smile. Not that he took pleasure in destroying those monsters for torturing him; instead, he only wanted to prevent them from harming his family. They'd said that they wouldn't involve Millennion, but what if they had a change of heart?

"So, I wanna ask something," Mika told him. "Why did you cry earlier?"

"I just remembered what happened when I first arrived at the orphanage." Brandon covered his face with his bandaged palm. "Although Uncle Marcus left me for my own good, remembering him always makes me sad."

"He left you for your own good? What do you mean?"

"He happened to kill someone from the Cardosi," Brandon explained, his tears seeping into his bandage. "He knew they'd want him dead soon, so he cut his ties with me. But that... It felt like losing my dad for the second time." Suddenly, he felt a light grip on his forearm. Looking ahead, he saw Mika put his arm down on the armrest.

"Don't make the bandage wet, okay?" She moved closer to him. "Um, did you just say losing your dad for the second time? How?"

"Uncle Marcus raised me after Rafael Jones from the Cardosi killed my parents," Brandon replied. "He saved me from that bastard's goons." An image of a brawny man dragging him into an alley flashed in his mind, and he screamed, "They tried to traffic me! I ran away, but Rafael's goon knocked me down and dragged me around!"

Mika's eyes widened. They then brimmed with tears. "Sorry for asking." Standing up, she reached out her arms to hug him. "I'm really sorry."

Brandon hugged her back.

"I wish I can make you feel better, but...I'll try." Mika nuzzled the crook of his neck. "Back then, when Mom was shot and I was getting chased around by those necrolyzed monsters, I thought I was the unluckiest person alive. It was even worse when I heard that Dad was shot before I was born. But I was wrong. Those monsters just threatened to kill me, nothing else."

"You're far luckier than I am, Mika," Brandon whispered. "When you grow up, you won't have to live in the streets. Your dad is Millennion's founder."

"So?"

"You'll inherit a lot of wealth. Money? Your dad had over one hundred billion yules in his bank accounts. Mansions? Your dad had two in the town. Butlers and maids aren't a big deal with the amount of money you have. Job? You'll lead Millennion." Tearing up even more, he smiled. "You have a great future."

"You're right." She pulled away. "Um, why don't we just do something happier? Like watching the TV at the guard post?" She wiped her eyes. "I bet Nancy must still be watching some cartoons."

Shocked, Brandon stifled a nod. If Mika hadn't mentioned that kid's name, he wouldn't have remembered her.

"Huh? Don't worry. I know you have a lot going in your mind, so I understand if you forget about her." She paused. "By the way, she's fine. Dr. Zach told me that the figure eight brace would keep her broken collarbone stable."

Mika walked past his bed. For a few seconds, Brandon heard some rummaging sounds. When the noise stopped, he saw Mika coming to him with a folded white t-shirt and black shorts in her hands. After handing him the clothes, she headed to the back of his bed again. This time, she returned with a wheelchair.

After putting on his clothes, he pushed the "down" button on the bottom of the remote control beside his bed. The lower part of his bed sank to form a leg rest. Placing his hand on the armrest beside him, he pushed himself up to a standing position and turned. Then he dropped down, bringing about a harsh creak.

Mika giggled from behind. "You're lucky that your wheelchair is very strong."

Brandon glanced over his shoulder and nodded with a grin.

===

Wandering around the parking basement in his wheelchair always filled his heart with joy. Most people - especially his nature-loving driver Albert - often thought of him as a weirdo because this was a noisy, dusty maze of cars, not a peaceful forest with cool breeze and chirping birds.

But if those people knew him as well as Mika did, they'd know his reason. Not that he liked the environment; instead, during a trip like this, his child's sincere love radiated like the heat from the sun. Mika knew he weighed over one hundred kilograms, yet she'd keep pushing his wheelchair to their destination, only stopping when Brandon asked her to.

Today, though, something else stopped Mika. From a quick scan of the surroundings, Brandon thought Mika had read his mind; he'd have told her to stop pushing at the sight as well. Three guards surrounded Albert, who had a spear and a hatchet in his hands.

"Let me pass! You don't even know what's going on with Mr. Brandon!" Albert yelled at them. "He lost his guns!"

Brandon's eye widened. He lost Cerberus? Sitting still, he recalled whatever had happened earlier. He let the necrolyzed beings drag him all the way to their base, and in the middle of the journey, the tranquilizer knocked him out. There, after stripping him to his waist, they flogged him while leaving the hellhounds to play with his helpless body...

The enemies had his guns right now.

"Why doesn't anybody believe me? I just want to bring these to his trailer!"

"For what?" one of the guards asked.

"For Mr. Brandon so that he can protect himself!"

Brandon only needed to hear up to that point, and so did Mika. They moved towards the bickering men.

The men in black immediately looked at them. "It's Mr. Brandon and Miss Mika," one of them said. "You two decide what we should do with Albert."

"I'm just trying to help you!" Albert shouted.

Brandon and Mika looked at each other before nodding. None of them needed to say a thing to know they had the same thing in mind.

"So?"

"Let him pass," Mika commanded.

"Huh?"

"Let him pass!" Mika shouted, resulting in silence and shocked faces.

Albert cracked a smile a few seconds later. Once the other guards moved aside, he rushed towards Brandon and Mika. "Thank you. Let's go to the trailer now? I need some flesh softener solution for these things."

"Let's go to the guard post first," Mika told Albert. "I've promised him to go watch TV together."

Albert laughed. "Oh, really?" He smirked at Brandon. "You must be happy to have such a good girl by your side."

Brandon nodded.

It took three minutes for them to reach the guard post. Nancy and Daniel sat on a bench, their eyes fixated at the hanging TV above. Something felt a bit off with Nancy, from what Brandon saw. Daniel, Mika, and Albert had burst into a fit of laughter at the sight of the anthropomorphic cat and dog hoisting a big fridge out of the house, while Nancy just stared vacantly at the screen.

"Wasn't it funny, little one?" Daniel told Nancy with a smile. "'Take what's yours with you and get out!' And those gluttonous pets just nabbed the fridge."

Nancy replied with nothing. Brandon wheeled himself towards the little girl and waved his hand at her, but he earned no response.

"Um, Sir, I think there's something wrong with her," Daniel asked. "She's been so numb."

She can't stomach so many deaths, Brandon concluded, moving closer to her. He knew he wouldn't get any response from the little girl, but he pulled her into his one-armed embrace anyway.

"Mr. Brandon," she whispered, "I want to go home, but I'm so scared."

She could've asked Daniel to walk her back to the trailer, but Brandon understood why she didn't do it. Nick couldn't protect her from the necrolyzed beings earlier, so perhaps she couldn't trust Millennion guardsmen anymore. Meanwhile, because Brandon had saved her from those monsters, her mind seemed to brand him as her guardian angel.

It's not so different from how I reacted to the water pistols at the orphanage. Rafael shot Mom dead, so I just saw them as real guns.

"I'll protect you," he told Nancy with a smile. "Let's go back."

===

If Albert hadn't visited the trailer, Brandon would've spent his time with Nancy. A scarred girl - especially the one who had grown to trust him so much - needed his love. But Brandon had always defined love as two things: protection, loyalty. So, as much as he wanted to play with the little girl, he'd better finish his business with Albert first. Sitting still on his wheelchair, he watch Albert dip the hatchet's bit in a small bucket of flesh softener solution.

"Because you don't have any weapons, I'll give you my camping hatchet," Albert said, pulling the hatchet back. "This thing may be small, but it's fitting for a one-armed man like you. You can swing it quickly and hack through many things in a minute."

"Can it cleave through skulls?"

Albert snickered, swinging the hatchet downwards so that the liquid on the bit would fall into the bucket. "I didn't dip it in flesh softener solution for no good reason, Sir." Once no more fluid dripped from the blade, Albert turned to Brandon and handed him the hatchet. "Done."

Brandon nodded. "Thank you, Albert." He flipped the hatchet in the air, and once he caught it, he couldn't help but feel like wanting to fight again soon. The thing in his hand now was clearly a hatchet, but it felt like holding Cerberus.

"You're welcome, Sir." Albert suddenly stared at him, his eyes showing suspicion. "I thought you had something else in your mind. Remember, I gave you this hatchet so that you could protect yourself and your kids until Millennion retrieves Cerberus or crafts something else for you. Not for you to go looking for troubles out there."