The “Flattery Anne,” “Whispering Marcel,” and “Tearful Emilio” are a trio known far and wide in the eastern district of downtown as the “Bargaining Siblings.” Their leader, a boy named Leo, is such a notorious miser that it’s said not even a single copper coin is left behind after he passes through. The trio idolizes and reveres Leo as their master, a fact well known in the area.
But at least for Marcel, he wasn’t always a follower of Leo. In fact, he initially found Leo off-putting, even to the point of contempt. How then, did their relationship develop to where it is today? The story goes back a year, to when Marcel first arrived at the Hannah Orphanage.
Marcel was born in the red-light district, considered the most dangerous part of the slums. He spent his first three years surrounded by debauchery and violence. His first turning point came when his mother, a prostitute, died. No longer able to fulfill his role as “a distraction from boredom,” he was sent to the nearest orphanage.
Unfortunately, poverty and violence followed Marcel. The world was harsh for a young, small-framed boy. In the poorly managed orphanage, he constantly missed meals and was bullied by older children. During the critical period when he should have been learning language and knowledge, Marcel learned only how to avoid hunger and violence. Constant vigilance was one of his few survival tactics.
Marcel’s few methods for surviving included always observing his surroundings. He would determine who held power, whether someone would hurt him or not. He learned to suppress his emotions as much as possible to avoid being targeted. When the first orphanage closed and he was transferred to the Hannah Orphanage, Marcel once again silently observed his new surroundings.
“The most important person here is Director Hannah. And Bruno… He’s the leader here.”
Within a few days, Marcel had assessed the power dynamics among the dozens of orphans and reached a simple conclusion: the person with the most authority was Hannah, followed by a hierarchy based on age. Among those close to Marcel’s age, a boy named Bruno seemed to have the most influence. Although Bruno had older brothers, even they respected the dark-skinned boy. Marcel had seen him fend off a homeless attacker today; he was quite strong in fights.
Marcel thought it safest to follow Bruno. There also seemed to be a rule that younger kids must obey the older ones, but conversely, the older kids must protect the younger ones—a difference from his previous orphanage. The sight of younger children calling the older ones “big brother” or “big sister” and being affectionately patted was strange to Marcel. But when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Marcel began calling Bruno “big brother Bruno.”
Sitting at the large dining table, still unfamiliar to him, Marcel glanced at the kitchen. From the narrow doorway, a boy older than him was lugging a large pot.
With freckles dotting his face, and chestnut hair and eyes, this was Leo. Known as Bruno’s right-hand man, Leo was well-liked by everyone at the orphanage. Though not particularly strong or physically imposing, this puzzled Marcel.
Leo, the day’s cook, shouted, “It’s ready!” and slammed the large pot onto the table with a thud, atop a shabby trivet.
“Today’s menu is ‘Exquisite! Savory Miser’s Soup’! Rejoice, everyone, it’s got beef in it!”
“Yay!”
“Leo big brother, you’re the best!”
At the news of beef, the orphans’ excitement visibly rose as they clattered their empty plates and spoons. Indeed, slices of beef floated in the served bowls, making Marcel’s eyes widen. It had been a long time since he’d seen beef.
“Wow,” he muttered, and several kids, wearing proud expressions as if they were praised, explained enthusiastically.
“Right?! Leo big brother’s recipes are famous for their resourcefulness!”
“He went all the way to the slaughterhouse to gather those beef scraps!”
The boy with a charming face was Emilio, and the girl with the precocious tone was Anne. According to them, Leo was the greatest miser at Hannah Orphanage. His ability to extract money or goods from others or to create things without spending his own money was unmatched.
“What’s that?” Marcel thought. Essentially, Leo was a cheapskate. Marcel didn’t understand why such a person was praised. At his previous orphanage, many children were stingy, often targeting Marcel, stealing his pocket money and food.
Watching Leo distribute the soup, Marcel’s face clouded. He disliked people who were overly smooth and sociable; they often turned on him for amusement.
“I don’t like this…”
As Marcel averted his gaze, Leo noticed and approached.
“Hey, newbie. What’s up? You were staring at me.”
Leo spoke cheerfully, causing Marcel to flinch. This was bad. Based on his past experiences, this was when Marcel would get hit.
“Uh…”
His throat dried. His tongue stuck, preventing words from forming. As Marcel froze, Leo laughed and said, “Just kidding.”
“I know, you want more meat, right? You look like you do.”
“Huh?”
“Here, a merry happy new customer gift. I’ll give you some of Bruno’s meat.”
With that, he plopped another piece of meat onto Marcel’s plate. Amid cries of “Unfair!” from the surrounding kids, Leo handed them bones used for making broth.
“No way!” “Hey, why’d you take from my plate?” The table erupted in noisy banter as Marcel, clutching his spoon, was left in a daze. Quietly observing his surroundings, no one seemed intent on hitting him. Tentatively, he dipped his wooden spoon into the bowl. The soup, though mild, had a rich, slow-cooked flavor.
***
Marcel’s peaceful days continued for a few more days until they were abruptly shattered. One day, the orphanage’s window was found vandalized with bright red paint. A round shape with a thick diagonal line through it—a mark symbolizing a prostitute in Weitz.
***
“What is this…?”
“It’s awful!”
As morning dawned, the children, still in their pajamas, gathered by the window one by one, noticing the harassment. Compared to a church, the building was small, but the glass windows were considered a luxury in the lower town. To prevent the children, who were known for their restless sleep, from breaking them—and also because the cold that penetrated through the glass was severe—the rule at the Hannah Orphanage was that no one slept in the rooms with glass windows.
Yet, upon waking up, they found a garish, red, lewd mark scrawled across the window.
“Who could have done this…?”
While the children buzzed with anxiety, Marcel turned pale.
(It’s them…)
He had a good idea who was behind it. The same people who had mocked and targeted him since his time at the previous orphanage. They had bullied him, demanding his pocket money, hurling insults whenever they saw him in town. Damien, a lackey from the affluent northern district group, was the ringleader. His corpulent body and acne-riddled face made him easily recognizable. He never resorted to direct violence but knew precisely how to torment a child like Marcel. He enjoyed watching Marcel’s fear and submission, like a spectator at a circus.
(Could they really have followed me here…?)
Part of him thought it was impossible, but the previous and current orphanages weren’t far apart, and the style of the mark was unmistakable. Marcel’s initials were scrawled below it, crossed out with messy lines. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen this handiwork; his previous orphanage windows had also been defaced this way.
“What should we do…?”
A chill ran through him. Twice before, when similar incidents had occurred, Marcel had been blamed. Though not asked to pay for damages, he was tasked with cleaning the windows. When he failed to remove the stains entirely, he faced relentless scorn until new windows were installed.
The cheap paint smeared across the glass was watery, barely obstructing the view beyond, but removing it completely seemed a daunting task.
“Why would anyone do this to us? We’re a well-behaved orphanage!”
“Probably trying to mock someone. Whose initials are ‘M’?”
(Please, stop…)
The older children began theorizing, displaying their age-appropriate deductive skills. Marcel felt paralyzed as they drew closer to the truth.
What should I do?
I’ll be blamed.
“What a filthy initial. Couldn’t even write the full name of their target?”
“If they know the alphabet, they’ve at least been to Sunday school… This must be someone local.”
“No way! No one would be stupid enough to do this with Bruno around.”
If the culprit was found, and if their target was identified, Marcel would be hit.
A gentle hand rested on his trembling head. Startled, Marcel looked up to see Bruno.
“Don’t worry.”
“Huh…?”
The stoic leader spoke in his usual emotionless tone, but his words carried assurance.
“We’ll find out who did this. Once we do, we’ll strike back immediately. Dislocate a joint or two, and most people calm down.”
Marcel gaped.
“What…?”
Strike back? Against them? Not me?
Seeing Marcel’s stunned face, Bruno continued to explain.
“Relax, Marcel. Dislocating a joint isn’t hard. It’s all about technique. Follow my instructions, and within three days—”
“Are you nuts?”
Leo, who had been silent, smacked Bruno’s head, scolding him.
“What are you talking about in front of a little kid? That’s not reassuring! Don’t you know about public morals and character education? And my skull hurts!”
“Uh… those are hard words.”
“Liar!”
After a bout of barking, Leo turned to Bruno with a serious expression.
“Anyway, don’t move yet.”
“Why? Caspar and the others are already close to identifying the culprit. Cheap, quick, effective. That’s what matters, right?”
“It’s not time yet. Look, that’s not enough.”
Leo gestured toward the window. Bruno, following his gaze, eventually nodded in understanding.
“Alright. Let me know when it’s sufficient.”
“Leave it to me, Bruno!”
Leo’s cheerful response left Marcel feeling bewildered and then annoyed. Was the attack not serious enough to warrant retaliation?
Having felt a moment of hope from Bruno’s words, Marcel was now disappointed by the turn of events. Bruno was willing to act for him, possibly to take down the bullies. But Leo stopped him.
(What’s his problem?)
Clenching his fists, Marcel glared at Leo. The excuse of ‘insufficient’ was just that, an excuse. Leo was likely afraid of the repercussions and was finding reasons not to act—just as Marcel had always done.
(I hate him.)
Leo, unaware of Marcel’s growing resentment, continued to smile cheerfully.