The Forgotten Hero

The ex-soldier

“Sir, the road ahead is too narrow for cars. Is there no other way?” Sam, who was driving the car, glanced back.

The road in that place made Sam look back several times, directing his gaze to Luke. The area of the place made him question many things about Luke that he couldn't be indifferent about. There was something about Luke that made him feel that the man was not an ordinary person, as the Moody family had thought.

The black Range Rover stopped right in a small alley where the driver did not know the ins and outs of the location.

Luke stared at the side of the wall, remembering correctly that the location sign was still the same as he had seen. “There is none.”

An antique shop that stood there became his benchmark.

“Then let me take you inside.” Sam hurried out of his car.

He pushed Luke's wheelchair through the uneven cobblestone streets, it took a lot of effort for him to push while making sure Luke stayed safely seated.

“Move all the stuff upstairs right now!” A man in a beret hat stood among the people, carrying dozens of large boxes at a time.

The man with a fierce face, with a stitch wound on the corner of his eyebrow, was watching everything intently. He repeatedly chuckled when one of the people he ordered did not do the job the way he wanted.

“Let's hurry up, this should all be done before nightfall.” He walked on, tapping the scroll in his hand on the heads of the men he judged to be moving slowly.

There was no complaining from them, all working silently and moving as fast as they could to avoid the man's tantrums.

But the silence did not last long. A loud bang in the other direction made him turn around, his face hardened, his forehead knitted together with a fierce glare as he saw a wooden box fall apart and shatter the vase inside.

“Damn it!” He cursed in a booming voice as he ran and kicked the man responsible for the damage.

His kick sent the man with burns on part of his right cheek crashing heavily into a pile of empty wood in the corner of the room.

“You stupid bastard! I told you to move it carefully!” Not enough with one kick, he rained down more kicks on the man with the burns.

The leg swung through the air with vigor; the more the man cowered inward, the harder he kicked him.

“Son of a b***h!” He stopped his punches, extended his hand, then pulled the man's shirt collar high.

The man with burns stood up forcefully following the man's pull. His face was flushed, his breath almost gone, as his neck was strangled by his actions.

While the eyes before him peered at him as if enjoying his suffering as compensation for the goods he had damaged. “I already picked you up from that place when no one cared about you, but you keep testing my patience.”

“I'm sorry.” .... I'm sorry, sir. I .... I promise I won't ever repeat it....” With a gasp, and the air getting thinner and thinner in his lungs, he replied, trying to temper his anger.

A smirk appeared on the man's face, looking down at his desperate figure and asking for him. And he liked it, the broken urn would certainly be a problem for him, but it would always be manageable, he just needed to command.

While things like this were entertainment in the midst of his nauseating busyness. The desperation of the people he commanded, and their pleas to him made him feel powerful. He felt like he was at his peak.

The man named Galth released his grip on the man's collar, making him fall to the floor limply.

“That urn is worth 10,000 dollars.”

Hearing that, the man who was trying to catch his breath looked up dumbfounded. The value mentioned was a huge amount of money to him, no matter how hard he worked there he would not be able to make that much money in such a short period of time, unless making up for it in other ways.

Letting them kill him and sell his organs was what they could do.

He then bowed deeply immediately. “I'm sorry sir. Please forgive me, I don't have that much money to pay for it.”

Galath laughed so hard that he wiped away his tears, the sound of his laughter being the loudest and loudest sound heard there. “Of course you don't have that much money.”

His laughter slowly subsided, but the madness on his face was just now showing. “I know how poor you are, that's why I picked you up. You won't be able to replace it until you die.”

“Please forgive me sir, just this once. I promise not to make any more mistakes.” He was still bent over fearfully. “I will do anything to repay you.”

He flashed a sly smile on his face. “Yes, then do it quickly.” His left foot stepped forward and landed right in front of the man. “Bow down and kiss my feet, then I will forget about it.”

For a moment, the man was frozen in place. His fear turned into pent-up anger and made his fists tremble.

He made a mistake, but he could never understand why he had to make up for it to that extent for the sake of impressing those bastards.

“Why?” The man caught him quickly. “You don't want to do it? Your pride was hurt? Fine then, pay up right now, pay up for the loss right now you bastard!” he shouted after he had previously asked like a normal person.

The man then quickly caught the leg, holding it anxiously again. “I'll do it. I will bow down.”

The fierce face was replaced with a satisfied smile. His face smiled proudly. “That's right, don't get too emotional thinking about your pride, for someone like you that kind of thing is not important.”

As the foot was thrust in front of him, he hesitantly moved, bowed down to stare with his clenched jaw, and then kissed it.

At the doorway, Luke watched the whole thing. He recognized the man who was treated so lowly in front of the other workers just to satisfy the desires of someone higher up than them.

Luke didn't want to continue, so he turned around in his wheelchair.

He waited outside until the man appeared.

Shortly after the man with the burns on his face came out, he walked towards the back building of the place with a slight shuffle. He stopped there, staring out into the distance, while drinking from the bottle of water he was carrying.

“Why are you doing nothing to be treated like that?”

The man turned around quickly and found Luke approaching him. His face clearly showed surprise, but more than that, his expression was much more complicated than before.

“How did you get here?” he turned around quickly, sweeping the scene to check the situation.

Luke ignored his panic and continued to move forward. “Can't you fight him? Why did you just stand by and let him treat you like that?”

He looked at Luke with an unfriendly face. “What are you talking about?”

“You never let anyone put you down, so why do you just stand by and do what he tells you to do?” As if he didn't care about his interlocutor's reaction, Luke continued to harangue him.

“Go away!” All those ego-stroking questions made him angry. “You don't know anything and don't ask any more questions!” He shouted at Luke, then walked past him to leave.

“I know a lot about you Dave. You're one of the best soldiers I've got.”

“Dave wayne is dead!” He exclaimed loudly as he turned around and slammed the bottle in his hand into Luke's back.

The water in the bottle splashed out and soaked Luke's back, but the man turned to Dave calmly.

Dave clenched his hands tightly and winced angrily. “He's been dead since that day and so are you to him! So don't ever see me again, because if you do then I'll make you regret what you did to me that day Luke Parker!”