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For some reason, this moment felt much more uncomfortable than when those heroes ganged up on me. I asked myself the reason why and came up with a surprisingly simple answer: It was probably because there was no obvious reason for their malice. They laughed just to laugh, mocked just to mock, and hated just to hate.
I hated such people. They had perfect working brains, but chose not to think.
I stepped forward, deliberately making my footsteps loud. Then the attention of those in the room shifted to me.
"Uh, sir?"
Ramon's gaze was among them. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. He looked especially shabby as he stood there.
I asked, "Senior, why are you so light? Did you not eat breakfast?"
Ramon's face turned red again. It was strange. The one who should have felt ashamed right now wasn't Ramon, but those surrounding him.
Still, I deliberately didn't say anything and kept my mouth shut. Regardless of the reason, it wouldn't be very pleasant for a senior to show himself kneeling to a newcomer.
The guy who had been trampling on Ramon's head pointed at me and demanded, "Who are you? You don't seem to be from a lesser race."
I grabbed the finger of the guy who had just asked a stupid question.
He flinched and glared at me, exclaiming, "What do you think—"
"Have you ever had a broken finger?"
"What?"
"It's more inconvenient than you think. It takes a long time to heal. Since you're an office worker, you probably won't be able to hold a pen for a while."
"What the hell—"
There was a crack, and a desperate...
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