Chapter 60: Who Cares? We Can Make More

“He’s ten years old. The oldest of the bunch.”

Luca continued while everyone quietly listened to what sort of demon this child was.

“Son of a well-known doctor. He idolized his father, wanted to become a healer just like him. Admirable, right?”

He gave a humorless smile. “Except Frederick decided he didn’t want to study medicine—he wanted to practice it. So what did he do?”

No one answered, while Luca’s eyes darkened.

“He used his mother’s noble connections to kidnap people. Ordinary people. Peasants, workers, sometimes even patients from nearby villages. And he brought them into his father’s old operating room.”

The elves faces paled as Luca went on.

“He’d tie them down on the table, open their skin, pull out their organs just to see how long they’d live. He’d remove eyes, cut off limbs, take blood just to measure how much the body could lose before it died.”

A collective shudder passed through the crowd.

“When I found him.” Luca said quietly. “He had dozens of glass jars lined up in his room. Filled with…parts. Human eyes, hearts, lungs—organs preserved in fluid. He kept them as trophies.”

One elf turned and vomited to the side, unable to stomach it.

Even the male elves, who had once stood confidently behind Julius, now looked pale and sick.

Luca sighed, the sound heavy with the weariness of a thousand lifetimes. “And those are just three examples. Three children—eight, nine, and ten years old.”

“I could name more, each one with a history like that—each one with victims behind them. But judging from your faces, I think that’s enough.”

And hearing all this, the elves couldn’t meet his gaze.

They looked at the ground, at their hands, anywhere but at the man who had looked into the abyss and didn’t blink.

Luca then turned his attention back to Julius, his tone sharpening.

“Julius, you said earlier that children make mistakes. That they should be guided and taught. That they can still grow up and change.”

“I agree to a point. Normal children make mistakes. They steal, lie, or break something. That’s human. That’s forgivable.”

His voice dropped lower, colder.

“But what about these children?”

He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving Julius.

“Do you think Little Albert, who hunted people for sport, would ever stop if he grew up?”

“Do you think Little Anna, who burned her servants alive, would ever learn compassion?”

Do you think Frederick, who dissected people alive, would ever heal anyone?”

No one answered.

He turned back toward the crowd.

“That’s what I want to know. Tell me—would you forgive them?”

“Would you look them in the eyes and say, ’It’s alright, you’re just a child’?”

“Would you let them grow up and hope they become better people?”

He didn’t even pause long enough for an answer.

“Because I didn’t.”

Every elf froze.

“I didn’t let a single one of them go.”

Luca said, his words with steady, terrifyingly calm.

“I killed them. Every single one of them.”

A ripple of sound passed through the elves—a collective gulp, the sound of throats tightening, hearts racing.

“I’ve lived long enough to know one thing.” Luca continued steadily. “Sometimes, even children can be devils in disguise.”

“You may not believe it, but thoughts implanted early in their hearts—cruelty, arrogance, entitlement—those things stay. They grow with them. They don’t disappear with age; they sharpen.”

He looked across the crowd, reading their faces—shock, fear, pity.

“I know some of you might be thinking, maybe there’s a chance.” He said softly. “Maybe, if given time, those children could have grown up to be better. Maybe they could have changed. But who…”

He said, his voice suddenly rising.

“…who among you would risk that?”

“…who would take that gamble?”

No one moved.

“Just think about it. If I let one of them live, how many more lives would they destroy? How many more families would they tear apart?”

“And if I kill one monster now—just one child—then all that suffering ends. Right there. No more victims. No more pain.”

His words carried a heavy finality that pressed against their chests.

“To tell you the truth, I’ve seen what happens when you let such things go.” He said quietly, almost to himself. “I’ve seen the cost. And I swore I would never make the same mistake again which is what led to the decisions I’ve made now.”

That last line made Leona and Nyx exchange glances.

There was something in his tone—a shadow of a memory, an echo of something deeply personal.

Neither dared to ask, but both wondered just what kind of past he had lived through to say such words so coldly, yet with such conviction.

Then Luca lifted his head again, straightening his shoulders.

“That’s why.” He said softly. “I looked every one of those children in the eye before I killed them and gave them a prayer.”

The elves watched him, breath held.

“I prayed….that in their next life, they would have better parents. Parents who would raise them right. Parents who wouldn’t spoil them, who’d teach them compassion. Parents like…” He turned his gaze to Leona and Nyx. “…like you two.”

The two women stiffened, caught in the gravity of his words.

“And after that prayer.” Luca said quietly. “I snapped their necks. Quick. Painless. One twist. And it was over.”

The elves shuddered, while he let the silence stretch, the air thick with discomfort. Then, slowly, he asked,

“So tell me, what do you think now?”

He turned his head toward the left.

“Do you think I’m some kind of villain?”

Then he turned right.

“Or do you think I did what was necessary?”

But even though he asked everyone, no one spoke.

Not a word.

They all looked at each other—faces pale, hearts conflicted.

To agree would mean justifying the killing of children.

To disagree meant denying the logic that had saved their people.

It was an impossible choice.

The mothers in the crowd especially hesitated, their hands unconsciously tightening over their hearts.

They thought of their own children—what if it were them? What if their sons or daughters ever turned into such creatures?

No one could say a word. The air was filled with the conflict of conscience.

Until, suddenly—

“What you did is right, Luca! What you did is most definitely right!”

All heads turned toward the voice—and everyone blinked in shock.

It was Lulu.

Her hands were on her hips, her tone confident and clear.

“I know, children are cute and innocent and all.” She said, puffing her chest out proudly. “Just like me, of course.”

A few elves blinked. Just like her?

“I love playing with them.” Lulu continued cheerfully. “Pinching their cheeks, teasing them till they cry and run to their moms—it’s so much fun!”

Some of the elves groaned quietly, while Luna buried her face in her palm.

But then Lulu’s expression shifted. The brightness faded, and her voice became firm.

“But…if I ever found out that those same children were doing what you just said—torturing people, killing them for fun—then I wouldn’t see them as children anymore. I’d see them as something darker. Something worse.”

Her eyes narrowed, serious for once.

“And I wouldn’t care what happens to them. Sure, I could ignore it, pretend it’s not my problem…but what if one day those same ’children’ hurt someone I love? My family, my friends?”

She looked around, meeting the eyes of several elves who had children of their own.

“No. I wouldn’t let that happen. I’d rather that kind of child disappear forever…than let even one of my loved ones suffer because of them.”

Hearing this, everyone was utterly baffled.

No one expected those words—not from Lulu, of all people.

Luna’s mouth fell open, her hands covering it in disbelief.

Nyx rubbed her eyes dramatically, muttering. “Is that really Lulu talking?” while Leona stood still, utterly stunned.

Even Luca blinked for a moment, then suddenly grinned from ear to ear.

He strode over to her, grabbed her hand, and shook it vigorously.

“Oh my God, Lulu! I really underestimated you!”

He said with genuine excitement.

“For so long, I thought you were kind of a dummy. I even wondered if your mom dropped you when you were a baby—”

“Hey!” Lulu snapped, glaring at him, but he continued anyway.

“—but right now, I see you’re actually smart. No, not just smart—brilliant! I take it all back. You really surprised me!”

Hearing this praise, Lulu tilted her chin proudly.

“Of course, of course! Everyone thinks I’m a dummy, but that’s just part of my plan. I act silly so people drop their guard—I’m actually a secret mastermind controlling everyone from the shadows.”

The elves stared at her and they couldn’t help but wonder if that was true.

Even Leona wondered if her daughter was actually a genius.

But then Lulu shattered that image when she smirked mischievously and added,

“Besides, killing one child isn’t that bad. You can always make another one!”

“WHAT?!” Half the elves nearly fell over.

But Lulu continued, completely unfazed.

“I mean it’s quite obvious, isn’t it? You just need a man and a woman alone, doing some, uh, intense exercise together—and a few months later, boom! Baby! It’s that easy!”

Luna turned bright red, her ears twitching violently.

“LULU!” She hissed.

Several elves groaned, burying their faces in their hands. Leona sighed, massaging her temples. “I need to discipline that girl more.” She muttered.

Nyx, however, was giggling uncontrollably, nearly doubling over. “Oh gods, she was doing so well for a moment!” She wheezed.

Luca too chuckled despite himself, shaking his head.

“And there she goes again…”

Still, even with her wild comment, Lulu’s support broke the ice. One by one, others began speaking up.

“I agree with what the hero did.” Said one older elf firmly. “It’s unpleasant to talk about, but necessary.”

Another nodded. “I’d never want to face that choice myself. But if I did, I’d do the same.”

“I couldn’t stand by and let something like that grow into another monster.” Said a third.

Luna, though still pale, finally nodded faintly too.

“It’s hard to say…but yes. What he did was right.”

And one by one, voices rose—not all loud, but all in agreement. The weight of judgment that had hung over Luca slowly began to lift, replaced by reluctant respect.

Even Leona, after a long pause, exhaled softly and crossed her arms,

“It’s disturbing.” She murmured. “But necessary.”

Nyx smiled faintly beside her. “He’s not a hero because he’s kind.” She said quietly. “He’s a hero because he can make the choices no one else will.”

And by the end, the crowd stood united—not in joy, but in solemn acceptance.

And in that moment, Julius, standing alone by the side, realized that his final card—the one he had saved to destroy Luca—had failed completely.

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