The Missing Prince

Chapter 14☑️

Boruto Pov:

It's hard to contain my laughter. The general seriously fell for my mimic clone? Priceless.

Now that the adrenaline is no longer being fueled I can really feel the effects of my activities. So I have to try not laugh otherwise my stomach hurts.

I walk casually to the village forge. It has my medical instruments I guess you could say. My wound won't heal if I just wrap it up like usual. I'm going to have to cauterize it. And won't that be a pain in the ass. Or more correctly stomach.

I sigh in annoyance and immediately regret my action. My stupid injury throbs whenever I inhale or exhale. Fucking royals. Fucking brain making me save them.

Well at least I'm not hungry anymore. Any thought of food makes me want to throw up. I have to take the second to lean against a building. I take sips of air and watch the nearly empty streets. There's just something about an assassination attempt that keeps people inside.

"Hey you! Remove your existence from my premise" A woman shouts, throwing an old boot at me. Well, well, well would you look at that. Doesn't matter if you save someones' life, as long as your poor your worthless.

I briefly consider grabbing the boot and throwing it at her. I disband the notion after a quick glance. Something tells me the guards will be ramping the search up after they discover my little trick.

As for now they search the lower economic side of town, leaving me free to roam the upper side. I think I like the lower side better. Sure a lot of the inhabitants are loud, drunk and smelly but they were nicer then these inbred bitches.

As I pull away I notice a bloody handprint. Out of spite I lick the clean part of my arm (or well, the cleanest) and rub it against the mark. It doesn't make much of a difference; if anything making it worse. I feel better now. At least in mind. My stomach worsens by the second.

I wonder if the general has noticed my little trick? I'll know when the magic fades. The memory of what happens will surface and I'll be able to map out the situation better.

The streets and surrounding areas all have feel fake. There no life to them. Sure it's neat, clean and orderly but there's nothing to bring to life. Even the animals have barely any vitality. They're tools for their masters.

The thought angers me. I've met rocks with more spirit than these animals. The birds, cats, dogs heck even the rodents are so robbed of the carefreeness of usual animals.

I speed up my pace. I want out of here as fast I can. Also the dagger out of my stomach too. But mostly I just want to leave this place. I exhale slowly through my nostrils. I have another match tonight.

The one perk to being poor is boxing matches and illegal betting, drinking, buying and selling are all overlooked. A few of the coins I had made honestly (or mostly honestly) I made from winning fights. And I won't be able to fight with a mother fucking dagger in my stomach now will I.

I blunder along my way. Anyone I come across gives me a strange look. The divert their attention quickly when they see the blood on my coat. Everytime it happens I smirk, it's really annoying because smiling widens the split on my bottom lip, causing even more blood to spill on my already sodden top.

A wave of dizziness creeps up and I stumble into an alley. I try to at least keep upright but I lurch to the ground on my hands and knees like a beggar.