Became the Imperial-Certified Mad Dog

My Parents Were Kidnapped

15 Years Old

Though it’s not an age many would consider significant, I can proudly say I’ve already been swept up in more waves than most people experience in their entire lifetime.

“Mom, Dad, your son has returned…”

And that monumental first wave occurred five years ago, when I was just 11 years old, caused by none other than my parents.

After spending two weeks attending my grandfather’s funeral – who had died alone in the mountains far from the village, in place of my busy parents – I returned home.

The house, which should have been filled with the comforting warmth that eases fatigue, the mouth-watering smell of food, and my parents’ familiar voices, was instead ransacked with my mother’s cherished furniture smashed and scattered everywhere.

Thud. Shocked by the unimaginable state of the house, my strength gave out and I dropped my shoulder bag, but ignoring it, I silently stepped inside.

Upon entering, I searched every part of the house – the living room right before my eyes, then the bedroom, study, bathroom, and storage – and after confirming there was no trace of my parents anywhere, I collapsed to the floor.

“…Phew”

What I felt at that moment was relief.

“They probably aren’t dead…”

The worst scenario I imagined when I saw the wrecked house was finding my parents’ bodies abandoned inside, or discovering large bloodstains somewhere in the house suggesting something terrible had happened.

Since these people who ransacked a house in a populated village wouldn’t have bothered with cleanup, the culprits must have only kidnapped my parents without killing them or causing serious injury.

After calming my racing heart with such thoughts, I pondered ways to find my parents, and when one clue came to mind, I picked up my dropped bag without hesitation and set off.

*

Several hours had passed while searching the house, and the sun had already descended considerably, just before nightfall.

As the noise of people chattering began to drift from the village’s bars and restaurants, I stopped in front of the bar my father frequently visited.

“Sigh.”

Being alone at a bar at age 11 felt uncomfortable, so I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Ding-

The bell attached to the door rang clearly as it opened, and while the scattered customers drinking at tables turned to look, they quickly lost interest and returned to their drinks and conversations.

Only two gazes remained.

I walked to the bar counter where one of those gazes, belonging to the owner, was coming from and sat down.

“What brings a kid to a bar? Your dad’s not here today.”

“I can’t find Dad at home, so I was wondering if you might know where he is.”

“Your dad…? Wasn’t he a fruit vendor? I heard things were a bit tough at home…”

The bar owner, who only remembered my father as a regular customer, frowned as if suspecting he’d run away from debt.

“That’s not it. More importantly, do you know where the man who usually drinks with my dad is?”

My drunk father would sometimes tell stories about the bar, and I knew he always drank with a certain man.

“…”

The owner, still seemingly lost in his assumptions, pointed with his finger to where the man I was looking for was, his stern expression contrasting with his pitying eyes.

‘No, that’s not what this is about.’

And sure enough.

It was where the other gaze I’d been feeling since entering the bar was coming from.

“Kid, your name was Gul, right? What business does a little one have in a place like this?”

“Mister, where’s my dad?”

“Why are you asking me about your old man?”

The man played dumb so perfectly that an outsider might even feel indignant on his behalf.

But having learned how to read people’s deceptions from my grandfather, I clearly saw this man, or rather this fool, fail to control his expression and smirk briefly.

“Ah, so you don’t know.”

Now that my suspicions were even stronger, there was no reason to hesitate. I reached into my shoulder bag and pulled out two thick knives.

“What are you taking out…”

“If you don’t know, I’ll have to help you remember.”

The fool, finally realizing things weren’t going as he’d expected, tried to say something, but since it wasn’t about my parents, I ignored him.

Slash. For the sake of sincere conversation, I cut his shoulder generously.

“Aaaaargh!?”

Thud. Like slicing a hard potato with a kitchen knife, the fool’s left arm fell limply to the floor.

The fool screamed like a five-year-old girl who’d lost her doll, crying and wailing, while blood gushed from his smelly shoulder even more profusely.

“My arm, my arm… Eek!?”

“You stupid bastard, you lost an arm and still haven’t grasped the situation?”

Thwack. Since he seemed to lack awareness despite his age, showing only an unsightly display of whining, I kicked him in the chest, causing him to fall from his chair and roll until he hit the wall.

“Wh-what’s with that kid!?”

“He’s got knives!”

“Didn’t Gordon just lose his arm!?”

The few customers who had come for a peaceful drink screamed in shock at witnessing someone’s arm being cut off.

“Shut the fuck up, all of you. If you can’t keep quiet, then get out.”

Whoosh. Eager to learn my parents’ whereabouts as quickly as possible, I threw one of the two knives backward, and it stuck cleanly into the bar’s door.

Thunk

After witnessing the thick wooden door being pierced as if it were tofu, the customers either fled or averted their eyes.

Finally with some peace and quiet, I approached the fool called Gordon, who was still clutching his shoulder and trembling, grabbed his bangs, and slammed his face into the floor.

Thud

“Ugh!?”

The average adult man’s head was grabbed by my 11-year-old hand with no resistance, and his face was smashed into the floor, naturally breaking his protruding nose and causing it to bleed.

Stepping back slightly to avoid getting his nosebleed on my clothes, I slammed his head into the floor again.

Thud, thud, thud.

I deliberately kept smashing his face into the floor like a grinding stone without asking any questions.

“Ah, it hurts! Ack!? Stop, pl-please stop…”

As his facial skin was starting to get pulverized, he seemed to realize it was time for more than just screaming.

Finally, since the other party showed willingness to talk, I released his head.

“Speak.”

“…?”

Grandfather said that when talking with idiots, you need to establish discipline first

“You’re being too brief.”

“…”

“Should I shorten your other arm too?”

When I brandished the knife still covered in blood from cutting off his arm, his comprehension improved and he hastily corrected his attitude.

“Pl-please stop…”

“Five, ten, fifteen… yes, sixteen times.”

“…What?”

“I’m going to give you exactly 16 chances.”

“Ch-chances…?”

“From now on, every time you don’t answer my questions honestly, you’ll lose one chance. Obviously, lying counts, and so does avoiding the question or asking questions back. Understand?”

“Well, um…”

“I’ll start now. Where are my mom and dad?”

“I-I don’t know… Aaaaargh!?”

“You still haven’t come to your senses? Fifteen chances left.”

Since he dug his own grave despite my kind explanation of the rules just now, I grabbed his remaining arm and cut off his thumb.

“Please! Please! Stop!”

“Fourteen.”

Slash, this time the index finger.

“Nngh…!”

“Right, every time you talk nonsense, one chance flies away, got it? I’ll ask again, where are my mom and dad?”

“I-I really don’t know, truly don’t know…”

“Thirteen…”

“W-wait! I don’t know where, but I know who took them! Really!”

Just as I was considering changing things up by cutting off his toes, finally some useful information came out.

“Tell me.”

“Well…”

What I heard from him was that my parents had apparently taken out some private loans due to financial difficulties.

They had been working hard and paying the interest regularly, so the loan sharks weren’t pressing them, but then other guys took over the loan shark’s business, and those guys were the ones who kidnapped my parents.

“What the fuck, there was debt…?”

I knew business hadn’t been good lately, but I didn’t think it was bad enough to need private loans.

While the unknown details about my parents’ situation were somewhat shocking, that wasn’t important right now.

“Why would they kidnap model debtors who were paying interest well?”

“Th-they couldn’t pay this month’s interest, so they took them as an example…”

They’d been paying well all along and they take them for missing one payment?

“Right, I’ll search for where those bastards are later, but you.”

“Yes…?”

“This month’s interest or whatever, you stole it, didn’t you?”

“…!”

I might be a stupid son who didn’t know about my parents’ private loans, but this month’s store revenue wasn’t less than last month’s.

And what reason would a mere drinking buddy, neither family nor business partner, have for knowing such details?

He must be involved.

“You just tried to dodge the question? Ten chances left.”

“What? No, wait… Aaaargh!?”

Slash-

Having gotten what I needed, I cut his remaining shoulder and both thighs, kicked him out of the store like a ball, and went out into the streets to find where these gangsters he mentioned were located.