The Genius Orphan Who Trains the Sword

Chapter 1 : Orphan Robin



Chapter 1 : Orphan Robin

Chapter 1: Orphan Robin

Robin was beaten in the back alley.

“Robin, you didn’t meet your quota today.”

Three boys who looked as if they might be around fifteen kicked him.

Curled up tight, Robin let out a groan as he was hit.

Watching him, Marcus, the biggest of the three boys, smiled coldly.

‘It hurts…….’

Just when he felt he couldn’t endure anymore, the boys’ kicking stopped.

Robin, his whole body bruised, convulsed as he gasped for air.

Tears pooled in his eyes and fell silently.

“By next week, 10 cooper.”

“…….”

The boys laughed at Robin’s bruised body.

They had beaten him to the point where it felt like he might die, yet there was not a shred of guilt in them.

Robin couldn’t stand up until long after they had left.

The bowl that held the 5 cooper he had collected by begging was empty.

“Hrk…….”

Robin, who was 10 years old, was small even for his age. At a young age, he learned the truth that the weak had things stolen from them.

To beg, he had no choice but to comply with the demand to pay tribute.

Sniffling, Robin picked up his bowl and sat on the street.

Clink.

A coin fell in front of Robin, whose small frame was now covered in bruises.

“Thank you…….”

Clink. Clink.

This time, two coins fell.

They pitied Robin, whose rag-like clothing and bruised body made him look wretched.

“Thank you… thank you…….”

Robin was grateful for the sympathy poured on him.

It was gratitude that rose sincerely from within his heart.

---

Robin had no memory of his parents.

Ever since he had begun to toddle, Robin had grown up in the orphanage.

It looked like an orphanage on the outside, but in truth it was a den of thugs. The orphanage director was Timmy, a thug who once ruled the back alleys.

Though he received support funds under poverty relief policies, Timmy pocketed the money for himself.

The orphans were left in harsh conditions. Once they came of age, the boys became thugs and the girls became prostitutes.

“Everyone, attention.”

At Timmy’s voice, as if he had swallowed iron, the children’s eyes turned to him.

Timmy was an old man with graying hair. His build was ordinary, but as a former gang boss, his body was solid.

It was dinnertime. Looking at the children gathered in the dining hall, he spoke.

“Marcus, Jorge, Mickey, Scott, Aidan. Step forward.”

Five big boys stood with faint grins. They were all boys who usually bullied Robin.

“These five have donated the most to keep the orphanage running. Everyone, applaud!”

Clap clap clap clap.

Weak applause echoed through the dining hall.

The named boys put on smug expressions.

Some children looked at them with contempt and disgust, while others gazed with envy and admiration.

It made no sense for orphans to donate to an orphanage, but Timmy’s orphanage was such a place.

All the children had to “donate” every month.

“Today, I’ve prepared meat as a special treat. The five will take theirs first, and Marcus will handle the distribution for the rest.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, Director.”

“Eat well, and all of you do better.”

Once a month, Timmy prepared meat. The children who donated the most could eat as much of the prized meat as they wanted—something even commoners rarely enjoyed.

Since Marcus had been the top donor for six months straight, he was entrusted with distribution.

No one moved until the five finished eating their generous share of meat. Only after their meal did distribution begin.

“Annie, Yannis, Phinny. Take your meat.”

“Thanks, Marcus.”

When Annie winked, Marcus dipped his head in greeting.

Yannis and Phinny did the same.

Robin couldn’t understand why they acted like that.

Once the three took their portions, the remaining meat wasn’t even enough for one serving.

“Handle the rest yourselves.”

“Meat!”

“Don’t push! I didn’t get any last time!”

At Marcus’s words, the children rushed toward the meat. From the start, the amount Timmy prepared was never enough.

Marcus and the boys who had eaten meat snickered as they watched.

The children scrambling for meat looked no different from dogs chasing scraps thrown by their master.

‘When will I ever get to eat meat?’

Timmy used this method to incite competition and push the children to donate more.

There were only a few like Robin who merely begged.

Most of the children pickpocketed or stole from kids weaker than themselves.

The hope of eating meat pushed the children toward crime.

“Robin, it’s been quite a while since you last ate meat. No, maybe you’ve never had any. Come here.”

Marcus patted the seat next to him affectionately. At first glance, it looked like he was offering to share meat, but it was a lie.

Robin took a deep breath and sat by Marcus.

Smack!

A hand larger than Robin’s face slapped him.

“I heard you made some money begging today? And who do you think you have to thank for that?”

“…I was going to give you the money anyway.”

Robin held out 10 cooper to Marcus.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s more like it. But hey, didn’t you earn more than this?”

“Well…….”

“Guys, shake him down.”

Jorge and Mickey grabbed Robin by the arms while Scott searched his body.

Robin stayed still, knowing resisting would only earn him a punch.

Scott pulled money from Robin’s pocket.

“Twenty cooper? I’ll take next week’s in advance.”

“…….”

“Whew~ You made quite a bit today, Robin.”

Every child watched as Robin was thoroughly shaken down by Marcus’s gang.

The pitying gazes stung, but no one stepped in to help.

“You all saw that, right? Be helpful to the orphanage, like Robin.”

“What would we do without Robin, heheh.”

When Marcus shouted, the children quietly nodded.

There wasn’t a single child who could defy Marcus, the enforcer of Timmy’s orphanage.

Bigger and stronger than any kid his age, Marcus held power second only to Timmy.

Strutting proudly, Marcus left the dining hall.

Robin’s tightly clenched, powerless fist trembled faintly.

---

Early morning. Before the sun rose, Robin woke from his bed.

Snore.

Snort.

In a room where thirty children were tangled together asleep, he gently pulled at the wooden panel on the wall and retrieved the hidden fairy tale book.

Robin tiptoed carefully and slipped out of the room.

Being small, Robin could squeeze through a doghole to leave the orphanage.

Passing the outer vacant lot and reaching the sparsely visited back mountain, Robin climbed for a long time.

“Huff. Huff. I’m here.”

He heaved aside a moss-covered rock, revealing a hole big enough for one person to pass.

Robin slipped inside with practiced ease.

The cramped passage gradually widened into a spacious area.

Inside the cave, bottles and a chest lay scattered. It was Robin’s secret hideout.

Opening the chest, which looked as though it should be filled with treasure, revealed dozens of fairy tale books stacked inside.

“Thank goodness I didn’t get caught this time.”

Though Marcus had emptied Robin’s pockets the previous day, that wasn’t all he had. Expecting they would take his fairy tale books, he had hidden some in advance. With a sigh of relief, he pulled the books from his pocket and poured them into the chest.

Little by little, Robin was saving money, dreaming of one day leaving this city.

Closing the chest and stepping outside, he saw dawn slowly breaking.

Boom! Bzzzz!

Before returning to the orphanage.

He held a tree branch and swung it through the air.

If someone asked Robin why he did such a thing, he wouldn’t have been able to give a proper answer.

Simply because he wanted to. Because it was fun.

Because he liked the act of gripping something long—a branch or a stick—and swinging it.

In this moment alone, he felt as if he could forget his harsh reality and as if he were the last person left in the world.

It lasted only a very small part of the day, but Robin liked this time the most.

“Ohh, your stance is pretty decent.”

Robin flinched and turned around.

A man with an eyepatch over his left eye stood there with his arms crossed.

He had dull blond hair tied back, and even outside the eyepatch, a long scar ran across his face.

‘Terrifying.’

That was Robin’s first impression of the man.

Just watching him stand there with his arms crossed gave off overwhelming pressure.

“Kid, are you practicing swordsmanship?”

“Huh? No. I’m just playing by myself.”

‘Swordsmanship, no way.’

“You’re playing alone at this hour? Must really like playing.”

The man walked up beside Robin and drew his sword.

Swoosh.

It was so fast Robin could hardly follow it with his eyes.

With just that simple movement—striking downward from above—Robin found himself instantly captivated.

“How was that.”

“Sorry? What was?”

“That move just now. Think you can copy it?”

A complete stranger had suddenly struck the air with his sword and then asked if he could imitate it.

He didn’t know what was happening, but he nodded.

The man stepped aside as if telling him to try. Robin raised his branch and copied the man’s movement.

“L-like… this?”

The man glanced at Robin’s hands with his right eye and grinned.

“You’ve got potential.”

“T-thank you.”

Even at the man’s praise, Robin shrank back.

The scar that moved every time the man changed expression was frightening.

“Let me ask you something. Do you know where the Laughing Pig Inn is?”

“Ah… if you walk north for ten minutes from the central plaza, you’ll see a bakery. Turn right there and you should find it.”

“Alright, thanks. Oh, are you by any chance from a noble family.”

“Huh? Me?”

When the man nodded, Robin shook his head.

“No way. All I remember is growing up in an orphanage.”

“Hm, an orphanage.”

“Um… may I please go now? I can’t be late for morning cleaning.”

The man nodded.

Robin bowed and ran off so fast his feet sweated.

Watching him leave, the man clicked his tongue.

“Tsk, looks like he’s been getting beaten.”

Once Robin was out of sight, the man raised his sword again.

Unlike before, this time he swung the blade horizontally.

In the now empty clearing, only the sound of the sword slicing through the air filled the space.

---

‘That was dangerous.’

Robin, who made it back in time, thought of the man he had met in the clearing.

If that man had harbored ill intentions, Robin would not have escaped unharmed. An orphan like him could disappear and no one would go looking.

Growl.

‘I’m hungry.’

By the time he finished cleaning and reached the dining hall, only bread crumbs and dried-up soup stuck to the floor were left.

It was a sight Robin knew all too well.

He scraped the bottom of the soup pot into a bowl and sprinkled the remaining bread crumbs on top.

It was barely enough to fill a teacup.

In the empty dining hall, he ate the cold soup.

‘They say eating fast makes digestion faster.’

Robin finished his meal little by little, hoping his stomach would stay full a bit longer.

Growl.

At the sound from his stomach, Robin gave a bitter smile as if saying he expected this. He had never once eaten his fill from the food given at the orphanage.

He was at an age when children should be eating a lot, but for Robin this was everyday life.

After washing the dishes, he was about to go out to beg when a familiar voice called from behind him.

“Robin, come with me.”

“Yes, Director.”

The place Timmy, the orphanage director, led him to was the director’s office.

A black large dog bared its wariness toward Robin.

Since he hadn’t met his donation quota, Robin expected a beating.

“You’re short on this month’s donation, Robin.”

“If you give me just a little more time, I’ll bring it, Director.”

‘I’ll have to hand over what I earn today.’

He braced himself for the violence he believed would follow, but instead Timmy took out a letter from his coat and handed it to him.

“Run this errand and I’ll make up the rest of your donation. Take it.”

“Thank you.”

It was a one-sided order, but Robin had no choice.

“Deliver it to One-Legged Burt.”

“Yes, Director.”

Timmy waved his hand.

The dog beside him kept glaring at Robin until the end.

When Robin came out carefully, he looked at the letter. It was sealed with a plain wax mark without any emblem.

‘What kind of letter would make him cover my donation.’

He was curious about the contents, but shook his head. Robin was illiterate, so he wouldn’t have understood it anyway.

Leaving the orphanage, he walked along the main road.

“Cheap, cheap! A whole basket of apples for 10 cooper!”

“Come take a look at the freshly baked bread!”

Lively voices rang throughout the marketplace.

Robin pretended not to see or hear them. He didn’t know what would happen if he delayed the delivery.

Entering a small, tucked-away building at the edge of the market, he found a man with a wooden prosthetic on his left leg snoring as he slept.

“Hello, Burt.”

“Grrhk! Who… oh, Timmy’s brat. What’s a kid doing here.”

“The Director asked me to deliver a letter.”

When Robin handed him the letter, Burt opened it on the spot, and his expression gradually hardened.

By the time he finished reading, his grip tightened enough to crumple the letter.

“That crazy old bastard.”

Burt’s expression crumpled like the letter.

Feeling the atmosphere turn dangerous, Robin tried to sneak out, but Burt’s gaze stopped him.

“Phew… what does he expect me to do with this kid.”

“Um… may I go now.”

“Go? Nowhere. The old man wrote that he wants to trade you for the tab he owes me.”

Burt shoved the crumpled letter in front of Robin.

Robin accepted it, but since he couldn’t read, he just stood there blankly.

“Kid, tell me what you can do.”

“I can… clean, wash dishes, run errands.”

“A typical street orphan.”

With a sigh, Burt scratched his head roughly.

“Eh, maybe I’d get some money if I sold you as a slave.”

At Burt’s muttering, Robin snapped back to attention.

His life was already little different from a slave’s, but if he truly became one, it would all be over.

A brand once marked would never fade until the day he died.

Cold sweat trickled down the back of Robin’s neck.


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