Discipline (1)
Chapter 5
“Given the current situation, showcasing physical enhancement through mana usage might be too over-the-top.”
It’s been nine years since I reincarnated into this world.
After reincarnation, I spent nearly half of that time wandering the streets collecting orphans as if rolling gacha.
I visited the baron’s household and the church to manage the growing number of normal orphans, and took it upon myself to educate the rare ones who occasionally emerged.
Some people called me crazy and pointed fingers at me.
Others praised me as an extraordinary talent.
In short, I drew too much attention. And that was never a good thing.
In this world, I was a commoner, the son of a prostitute.
“If this were a novel, the title wouldn’t attract much attention. ‘Reincarnation in Poverty’? ‘Reincarnation in Slums’? Man, it would probably get censored right away. Forget monetization; the newspaper articles would come first.”
The rampant misogyny in male-oriented novels—was this really okay? Criticism poured in toward Munpia for their insufficient handling of the issue. Geumgang issued a statement: “We will establish appropriate measures going forward.”
“Even imagining it is depressing. We need a softer title.”
Anyway.
As a mere commoner, my options were limited when trouble arose.
If word got out that I possessed talent in handling ‘mana’ while already drawing so much attention… it could lead to more headaches.
“Still, there’s nothing I can do about it.”
If I had intended to live cautiously and conform to societal norms, I wouldn’t have bothered with the gacha in the first place.
If I let the delinquents disrupt the atmosphere now, it would only be a matter of time before the high-grade orphans I’ve gathered end up on the wrong path.
“Sigh, let’s go.”
Doing my best is all that matters; if things go wrong, I’ll just die peacefully. If this world were to collapse, I wouldn’t feel guilty—I wasn’t Kim Dokja, after all.
With a light heart, I pushed open the shop door.
*
Haniwell, who ran the restaurant, couldn’t erase her grim expression even as she grilled expensive meat.
Because the meat wasn’t being sold—it was being consumed without payment by rowdy hooligans who occupied most of the seats, drinking freely without a care for money.
They weren’t here to collect protection fees quietly; they seemed determined to eat the establishment out of house and home.
Despite her frustration, Haniwell couldn’t voice her complaints. After all, this area fell under Jimmy’s influence, and these men were members of his organization.
These days, following a trend that spread from the capital, they called themselves the “Jimmy Family,” though to Haniwell, it was nothing but a tasteless joke.
“Hani, we’re out of meat!”
“Coming, coming!”
As Haniwell hurriedly brought out another plate of meat, Ron playfully patted her behind with his large hand.
“Why so sour? We’re not eating for free, you know?”
“Huh… hehe. No, don’t worry about it. Please enjoy.”
“Aww, why so formal? Take it, take it. It’s a great day today!”
Ron slipped a gold coin between Haniwell’s cleavage.
Here, the term “gold” referred not to actual gold but to a widely-used imperial copper coin with a small amount of gold mixed in—enough to cover two meals at best.
Haniwell forced herself to maintain her crooked smile.
Ron chuckled knowingly, fully aware of how Haniwell’s trembling hands betrayed her discomfort.
“I’m feeling pretty good lately. The parasites are finally pulling their weight. Isn’t that right? Come on, everyone! Let’s give a round of applause to Phillip! Today’s meal is on Phillip!”
“Woooh!!”
Loud cheers and claps erupted among the gang members.
Phillip, despite his flushed face, couldn’t hide his excitement as his chest swelled with pride.
Ron proudly displayed the bag Phillip had stolen through pickpocketing in the neighboring village, shaking it to make a jingling sound.
“Just because you were born human doesn’t mean you can keep your mouth open and live off the hard work of others forever, right? Right?”
“Yes, Brother. I’ll continue working hard!”
Phillip admired the “brothers” of the family.
They were strong, bold, and ruled over everything.
They didn’t have to pay at restaurants, and no one dared resist when they touched women inappropriately.
To Phillip, these brothers were objects of envy.
What Ray gave out in cookies—true members of the family could simply help themselves whenever they wanted.
Just as Phillip was lost in sticky desire, unable to control his laughter—
“Would you kindly stop?”
A strange man’s voice interrupted nearby.
The man gripping Ron’s wrist, who had been fondling Haniwell’s behind, was none other than Pin, the owner of the shop and Haniwell’s husband.
“My wife.”
“Dear, dear! It’s fine! Go back inside and mind your business!”
Though Haniwell panicked, Ron laughed good-naturedly and released his grip.
“Haha, sorry about that. It was meant as a sign of familiarity, but I guess it made you uncomfortable.”
Crack!!
A massive fist suddenly struck Pin’s cheek, sending his head snapping to the side. Unable to withstand the shock, Pin collapsed to the floor.
“And what the hell?! You think I can’t touch your wife’s ass or something? What kind of nonsense is that, huh?!”
The kicks continued relentlessly.
Pin, unable to defend himself, was struck in the abdomen. Haniwell screamed in horror and shielded him with her own body.
“Kyaaak! Stop it! I’m sorry! It’s my fault!”
“Shit. You’re ruining my appetite.”
Ron grumbled as he threw down his bowl, prompting the other gang members to snicker in agreement.
“That’s enough. A husband should protect his wife’s dignity. Or are you implying you’d do better? Hahaha!”
“Brother, please tell him to hurry up and bring more meat! Hehehe!”
Unable to resist further humiliation, Pin groaned in pain.
Being beaten like a dog until half-paralyzed wouldn’t change anything—the reality was harsh, and there was no one to complain to.
Stepping in to protect Haniwell had been an impulsive decision, one that Pin now regretted deeply.
“Grrr… Ugh…”
“Get up already! What’s with all the theatrics?”
“I’m sorry… Just give me a moment…”
“Tsk, snap out of it!”
As Pin, clutching his abdomen and retching, prepared to be kicked again in the thigh by Ron,
“You’re eating our food for free, yet you still talk back? What’s wrong with you?”
A young, clear voice cut through the tension.
“You’re having fun.”
All eyes turned toward the shop entrance.
“You’re having way too much fun.”
Ray shook his head as he entered the restaurant.
*
After retiring from life in the red-light district, Jimmy reluctantly became the boss of the alleys behind the baron’s territory.
Due to rapid expansion and consolidation, the number of unruly gang members increased, giving him quite a headache.
Without a solid foothold, Jimmy chose to bide his time and observe the situation, while the emboldened delinquents used their newfound power to wreak havoc wherever they went.
Ray looked down at Pin lying on the ground and clicked his tongue like an old man.
“Ron, you’ve been crossing lines lately, haven’t you?”
“Haha! Crossing lines? Me?”
“Please tone it down. Unless you want your wrist cut off.”
“You crazy bastard. Your mother slept around with anyone, and now her bastard child runs his mouth like he owns the place. That’s why you shouldn’t associate with lowborns.”
“Huh?”
Ray was shocked—not by the insult itself, which was laughable considering he was the ace of the infamous Red Light District—but by the fact that Ron, an orphan himself, would utter such insults.
‘Shouldn’t we be criticizing bloodlines together? Your mother abandoned you because she was poor, remember?’
Confused, Ray questioned,
“Lowborn? Are you some kind of noble, Ron?”
“My parents may or may not be nobles—I’d have to meet them to find out, kid. But what makes you think they’re any lower than mine?”
“Very generous assumptions about your potential. Positive thinking is admirable.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Let’s move on. Finish what you started.”
Ray shrugged and closed the distance between himself and Ron.
“You’re way too reckless. Don’t you know the rules of the organization, the family? Extortion outside of protection fees, involving orphanage kids in crime, assaulting civilians… You’re doing everything we’re told not to.”
“Haha, so what? How long are we supposed to watch those brats from the orphanage loaf around while we slave away to earn our money? Huh?”
Ray shrugged again.
The reason Jimmy could build his power so steadily was because the higher-ups of the baron’s family tacitly approved of the Jimmy Family’s growth.
One of the reasons for this tacit approval was Jimmy’s substantial contributions to welfare activities like orphanages, contributing to social stability.
Ron was ignoring this cause-and-effect relationship and venting his frustrations.
‘Trying to educate these ignorant thugs by sitting them down and explaining the situation seems futile.’
Having confirmed their inability to grasp the meaning of words, Ray no longer hesitated.
“Ron, you’ve broken the family’s rules hundreds of times in the past few months.”
“Haha, so what?”
“I’ll have to show you what happens when you disobey. For Jimmy’s authority, obviously.”
“Raised under skirts, you’ve forgotten your place entirely.”
Infuriated, Ron grabbed a chair and swung it wildly at Ray.
This was an instinctive reaction to the sword strapped to Ray’s waist.
“Beat this until you come to your senses!!”
The wooden chair, crude though it was, had a longer reach than the sword.
Ray walked forward.
Simply, he walked forward quickly.
His steps were precise and elegant, yet unsettling.
To some observers, Ray seemed to glide across the floor like water.
Crash!!
The wooden chair slammed into the ground.
Only then did Ron realize Ray had entered his embrace.
Panicking, Ron tried to lift the chair again, but his balance was off.
Looking up, Ron saw his arm severed, dangling from the chair.
A scream followed shortly after.
“AAAAHHHH!!!”
“Pity, Ron.”
Ray smiled, covered in blood.
“Your independent actions endangered the survival of the organization and the family. So, you must pay the price. Personally, I’d like to kill you, but that’s not my call. That’s what’s unfortunate.”
With an elegant spin, Ray decisively slashed Ron’s ankles.
With both Achilles tendons severed, Ron collapsed, screaming once more.
“AAAAHHHH!!!”
“Use your remaining arm to stop the bleeding.”
One Ron wasn’t enough to settle the matter.
Since trouble had been stirred, it was necessary to make an example of all the gang members present.
After wiping the blood off his rusty sword and tossing it aside, Ray faced the remaining members, who were still unsure whether to flee or attack.
“Charge!!”
“Kill him!! Kill him!!”
“You psycho!!”
The gang members surged forward en masse.
Slowly unrolling his sleeves, Ray began to channel a tiny stream of mana.
He discarded the sword specifically to provoke this exact scenario, but seeing eight burly men charge at him simultaneously still sent a chill down his spine.
“Phew, losing means certain death.”
Since he started this fight, there was no choice but to win.
