The boy finally spoke, though it was clear how difficult it was for him to put his words together. It was as though he was drawing courage from the deepest part of his heart, then meeting Alaric's gaze with a look that was now firmer.

"My name is Fery," he said, as if to make sure every word was clear. "I've lived with my parents since I was little, and I have a younger brother. We're a complete family."

For a brief moment, a faint smile appeared on his face, but it quickly faded, replaced by deep sorrow. His voice lowered, trembling as he continued. "But... when I was six... my brother, who was two years younger than me, just vanished. He was playing outside the house alone, and when my mother called him for dinner, he was gone. All that was left was his ball and a few scattered toys in the street."

Fery fell silent for a moment. His hand clenched on his knee, his eyes staring blankly at the wooden floor of the rest stop. Alaric watched him closely, not interrupting, letting the boy continue at his own pace.

"My family panicked. Everyone searched. Neighbors, friends, even strangers pitched in to help. But the result was always the same... my brother was never found. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and then years, but we never could forget that day. Even though he's been gone for so long, the feeling of loss has never left us."

The air around them seemed to grow heavier, as if it too was absorbing the sadness in every word that left his lips. Alaric still stared at the small object in his hand, but now, his full attention was on the boy. He could feel that the story being shared wasn't just an emotional outpour, but a wound that had never fully healed.

Fery took a deep breath, as if bracing himself to reveal the hardest part of his tale. "And... a few weeks ago," he swallowed hard, "I saw him. My mom and I were at the market. He... he was there, working as a laborer, helping people carry their groceries."

Fery's gaze shifted to the side, fighting back tears that were nearly falling. "At first, I almost didn't recognize him. His face had changed, his body thinner, his skin more pale. But... I knew. My brotherly instincts screamed that it was him."

He paused, his shoulders slumping, as if remembering the exact moment. "I was shocked... really shocked. I wanted to run up to him, to hug him. But before I could do anything, a big, scary man came up. He pulled my brother away, saying his work was done. I tried to chase after them... but the market was too crowded, people were pushing everywhere, I almost got crushed. My mom called me, saying she was done bargaining."

Fery's shoulders drooped further, his eyes closing briefly as if he could still feel the weight of those moments. "In the end, I lost track of him. He vanished again, just like before. And... I didn't want to worry my mom, so I kept it all to myself. I never told her I saw him."

His voice fell silent. The room was still. Alaric remained quiet, processing every word, weighing the meaning beneath the boy's story. But Fery only looked down, clutching his knees tighter, as if the story he had just shared had left a heavy burden.

Fery drew a steadying breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. Alaric could see how the boy was trying to align his breathing with his body, as if making sure his voice wouldn't tremble when he continued.

"But I didn't just sit back," he said. "I kept searching for my brother around that place. Even though it was hard, even though I often came back feeling disappointed, I kept walking the same path every day. I didn't want to stop. And finally... I found something I was looking for."

Fery's eyes sharpened, his expression no longer just sorrowful, but full of determination. "I found a house. It was big, nice from the outside. But every time I peeked inside, I saw a lot of children coming in and out. Most of them seemed to live there."

Alaric leaned forward slightly, squinting his eyes in attention. "And were there guards there?" he asked slowly.

Fery nodded quickly. "Yeah, men dressed like the one I saw earlier. Big, muscular, their faces hard, their gazes sending chills down my spine. I'm sure they were the same kind of men as the one who chased us by the lake."

He paused for a moment before continuing in a quieter voice. "I once dared to get closer. Pretended to ask for directions. I spoke to one of them. But as soon as I opened my mouth, they stared at me with suspicion. Their eyes... it was like they wanted to swallow me whole. Then one of them growled, telling me to leave. I had no choice. I left, reluctantly."

Fery lowered his gaze, his hands clenched tightly. "But before I left completely, I looked back. From behind the iron gate of the house, I saw something. A boy peeking from a gap in the wall." His voice trembled, his face flushed with emotion. "It... it was my brother. I'm sure of it. He was looking at me with terrified eyes, as if asking for help... but too afraid to speak."

Alaric could feel the restrained anger in the boy's words. He could see how hard Fery was trying to keep his tears in check. "That's when my blood boiled. I knew my brother was being forced to work there, treated like an object. And he's still just a kid... even younger than me."

The boy paused for a moment, his head hanging lower. "At that moment, I made a vow. I wouldn't sit back anymore. I would find out everything I could about that house, about the people who ran it."

Then, he took another deep breath, heavier this time. "And I did it. One day... I took a risk and snuck into that house. When everyone was gone, including the children and my brother who was trapped there. I managed to see something... something that was enough to use as evidence."

His gaze shifted to the small object wrapped in black plastic that was now in Alaric's hands. "But... not long after, they found out. They came after me. Just like that man before, they didn't want me to leave with anything. That's why they kept chasing me... until we met."

Fery stopped there, his voice trailing off with a heavy breath. The silence hung in the rest stop. The weight of his words seemed to linger in the air, as if the story he carried still held pieces of something even darker.

Alaric could feel the questions forming in his mind, like small ripples on the surface of a pond. He didn't want to keep them to himself for too long, because if he stayed silent, the weight of it would only grow. So, he decided to ask.

"Why did you take matters into your own hands? Isn't that dangerous? Why didn't you report it to the police?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the boy, his attention unwavering.

Fery slowly lifted his head. He bit his lip for a moment, then drew a breath. His voice was quiet but still clear. "I really wanted to do that, Sir. I wanted to report it to the police so they could find my brother and bring him back. But... I know it's not that simple."

He paused for a moment, then looked down at the dusty ground in front of them. "My parents already reported it a long time ago. They placed a lot of hope in the authorities. But the process was slow, full of complicated investigations, and in the end... my brother couldn't be found. It all felt like a dead end. I didn't want to wait anymore."

Alaric fell silent. There was no denial or doubt on his face, just a quiet understanding that slowly grew within him. He could feel the bitterness woven into every word the boy had said. And in that moment, he couldn't help but respect him. At such a young age, this child was able to think more maturely than most adults. He was willing to take risks, face consequences, and even put himself in danger for the ones he loved. Deep inside, Alaric admitted to himself that he might not have been as strong in his position.

Fery spoke again, his voice firmer this time. He pointed to the small object in Alaric's hands—the one he had given him earlier. "That... it's not just any object. Inside, there are photos I collected secretly."

Alaric lowered his gaze to his hands, weighing the small package as if its weight was much greater than its size.

"Photos of illegal weapons I saw in that house," Fery continued, his voice pressing harder. "There are also other illegal items I've kept as evidence, and... images of the children being exploited there. Everything is inside. Proof that this place is not just an ordinary house, but a syndicate's den."

Alaric straightened his back. He could feel how serious the contents of that package were. Even without opening it, he could already imagine the danger contained within.

Fery bowed his head slightly, as if facing a choice between life and death. "After this... I do plan to report it to the police. But not empty-handed. I want them to trace the network to its very roots. And I know, with this evidence... that possibility is real.

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