My Soul card is a Reaper
Chapter 797 - 797: The world of Irth (part-63)

The wind howled gently at the top of the Tower of Esyr. It's the highest point in the city. From this height, the city looked quite small.

Orion sat on the edge, legs dangling over the railing. The sky was painted in late-evening hues. Neon lights from below reflected faintly in his eyes, but he wasn't watching the view.

He looked like he was lost in his own thoughts.

Footsteps echoed behind him. However, he didn't turn around.

Azzy walked up quietly and sat beside him, leaving a wide enough gap not to intrude but close enough to mean something.

"I figured you would be here," Azzy said softly, looking out over the city. "Your mother was just the same. She liked to go to the highest places to sort out her thoughts. I prefer to roam around, though."

Orion didn't even blink, and neither did he react.

Azzy continued anyway. "You know... when I was your age, I didn't have clubs. Or even friends. Fights were quite common in my homeland, some were super intense to the point that even teenagers died in combat."

Orion shifted slightly but didn't look at him.

"I grew up in a corner of the world where strength is everything," Azzy said. "Where people fight at the slightest inconvenience. Compared to that, your actions are only considered lightly. If those words were spoken back in my hometown, we wouldn't hesitate to destroy their limbs. But then…" Azzy's gaze fell to the horizon as if he were going down memory lane. "One day, an incident made me realize that strength without control is just destruction wearing boots. And frustration will always make you lose your cool."

"Why are you telling me this?" Orion muttered. "What's your point?"

Azzy turned to look at him. "My point is that you are too frustrated to think straight. You need to relieve yourself, and I know a place where you can do that."

Orion finally snapped his gaze toward his father, eyes burning. "Seriously, that was the idea you had? Going to a brothel? What kind of a father are you?"

Azzy blinked. "When did I say brothel?"

"Then, what?"

Azzy stood up and offered a hand. "Follow me. Don't listen. Don't talk. Just… follow."

A while later;

The gym was dimly lit, half-empty this late in the evening. The only sounds were the soft thuds of gloves hitting bags and the rhythmic ding of timers.

Azzy led Orion past the rows of machines and sparring dummies to the center ring.

"Get in," he said simply.

Orion looked at him like he was insane. "What, you want to fight me?"

Azzy stepped into the ring. "No. I want to be your wall. Hit me."

From the side, he grabbed a pair of focus mittens and held them up. "Let it out. All of it."

Orion hesitated. Then, with a grunt, he climbed in.

He threw the first punch without warning. A sharp right hook. The mitt absorbed it. Azzy barely moved.

"Again," Azzy said.

Orion kept hitting—left, right, left. Harder. Faster. Breathing heavier.

"C'mon, use everything you had…"

Minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty.

By the thirty-minute mark, sweat poured from Orion's face. His arms were trembling. The gloves felt like anvils.

But his fury hadn't faded.

Azzy dropped the mittens.

"Enough with the pads," he said, stepping back and raising his hands bare. "Try to hit me. For real."

Orion blinked. "What?"

Azzy stepped closer. "Don't worry. You won't be able to even land a single punch on me." His eyes remained calm.

That provocation was enough for Orion.

Orion surged forward and threw a wild punch at his father's face.

Azzy simply tilted his head. The punch went past it.

Orion attacked again. And again.

Orion's fists flew. His knuckles cracked against air, leather, and the occasional solid forearm. Sweat streamed down his temples, dripped from his jaw. His breath came out in sharp, ragged bursts, but his eyes stayed locked on Azzy.

Azzy moved like a shadow. Effortless. Calm. Every punch Orion threw was dodged or parried with surgical precision.

Snap!

A right hook veered too wide.

Tap.

Azzy nudged Orion's shoulder, knocking him off balance, just enough to frustrate.

"Is that all your rage can do?" Azzy asked, voice almost bored. "Thought you were a fighter. Where is that all strength gone?"

Orion growled and lunged again. Azzy weaved to the side.

Around the ring, a few gym-goers had gathered, whispers humming in the air. The instructor stood with his arms folded, watching with intense focus. One guy pulled out his phone, quietly recording.

"Come on!" Azzy barked as Orion launched a spinning kick. Azzy caught it mid-air, twisted gently, and let him go with a shove. "Is this the strength of a man who wants to defend his mother's honor? Pathetic…"

Orion snarled and charged, fists a blur.

Ten minutes.

Twenty.

Forty.

Still, Orion attacked, chasing every insult Azzy tossed like bait.

Finally, after a full hour, Orion dropped to one knee, wheezing. His shirt clung to him, soaked. His gloves trembled. His lungs felt like fire.

Azzy stood above him, his breath as stable as always. "Now that," he said, "was a decent workout."

Orion let out a short, breathless laugh. "I'm… still pissed. But damn… I've never… sweated this much before."

Azzy knelt beside him. His voice dropped, calm and steady. "Now, are you ready to talk?"

After a while, as Orion and Azzy continued to walk in the streets, Orion spoke about his frustrations over the course of the years.

After hearing him out, Azzy can point out two major issues.

One is Leiza herself. While she cared so much and spoiled him, she controlled him to the point that Orion didn't have much trust in so-called friendships or love interests. There are also other issues, like inserting the nano chip in his brain to remotely control his movements whenever he loses control. Many times, he lost memories of certain incidents and remembers only blackouts.

Secondly, his lack of interest. He basically tops everything with no competition, whether it is brains or brawn. However, people would mostly take it as Leiza buying everything with money. So, over the course of the years, he lost interest in everything and began aiming for 2nd place on purpose. Right now, he had no ambition or goal. He wasn't interested in his mother's company either. Clubs, pool parties, and having fun with girls were the only things that kept his day a tad bit brighter.

And as frustrations built up over time, he got more and more rageful.

Orion looked up at his dad, who was just an inch taller than him and appeared more like an older brother than a dad based on their looks, too, chest still heaving, but his expression softer now. "Do you think I should've held back against them, given lighter punishment instead?"

Azzy shook his head. "No, beating someone to that degree itself is fine, but not at school. It is a place where rules exist, not just strength. Now, due to the wrong place, you have turned from a victim to an oppressor."

Orion's face tightened. "You want me to apologize to them?"

Azzy shook his head again. "Nope. Not to the punks. To the man responsible for keeping that place safe for all students. You should apologize to the principal and the teachers."

Orion leaned back on his elbows. After a moment of silence, he asked. "What could I have done in that situation?"