The Path Of A True King.-Chapter 33: The Walk

Chapter 72:

Jack’s eyes blinked open to the dim hue of morning light bleeding through the half-closed blinds.

The room around him was a quiet mess—clothes flung over a chair, an old punching bag swaying slightly from the last night’s session, and his reflection staring back at him from the dusty mirror.

He studied himself.

His hair had grown wilder by the day—an untamed mane matching the chaos inside.

There was no neatness in his appearance, no intention to impress.

And yet, as his red eyes met his own gaze, a smile tugged at his lips.

Not the happy kind, but the knowing kind.

A smirk that said I’m still here.

He pushed himself up, dragging his towering frame from the mattress.

After brushing his teeth and stepping into a cold shower, he threw on a loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Simple.

Functional.

His muscles stretched the fabric tight, every movement smooth but deliberate—like a beast too large for the city it wandered.

Stepping outside, the air met him like an old friend—cool, clean, and thick with morning potential.

The streets were still half-asleep, only a few people moving about.

His feet touched pavement with heavy certainty, a steady rhythm of confidence echoing in each stride.

He wasn’t just walking. He was moving through his world.

It wasn’t long before he entered the edges of their territory—barely a block away from his place.

The boundaries were invisible to strangers, but not to Jack.

He felt them in his bones, the subtle shift in energy, the silent acknowledgment in the air.

This was home.

And today, his goal was simple: enjoy the day.

He walked with a faint smile, red eyes scanning his surroundings—not just watching, but seeing.

Every motion, every shift in breath, every person who walked by.

His perception was sharp, carved by years of pain and solitude.

A blade disguised in calm.

"Good morning, Jack!" a voice called out.

Jack turned, raising a hand with ease. "Mr. Vic. How are you this morning?"

Mr. Vic, a man in his thirties with a neatly pressed shirt and a small shop just opening behind him, gave a nod.

"Doing good, Jack. Out for another one of your walks, I see."

Jack didn’t stop walking, but his voice carried with practiced clarity. "Yeah, just a short one."

"Well, you have a good one!" Vic said, stepping into his store.

"You too," Jack replied, waving.

As he continued down the street, he greeted others with simple gestures—a nod here, a word there.

Jack didn’t need to say much; his presence alone spoke volumes.

People respected him, not because he demanded it, but because he had earned it.

Eventually, he found himself near the hotel—their hotel.

The place Kevin and Lucas ran like a well-oiled machine. A quiet thought crossed his mind.

Should I stop in?

Just say hi?

But as quickly as the idea came, he dismissed it.

No, he decided. Not now.

His walks were sacred.

Since the day his parents abandoned him, walking had been his therapy—his ritual.

It wasn’t about the destination.

It never was.

It was the act of walking forward, step after step.

No matter what life threw at him, he kept moving.

Why?

Because stopping meant feeling. Stopping meant remembering.

He had been hurt—ripped apart by the ones who were supposed to love him.

Forgotten by the people he had once worshipped.

In that raw, desolate emptiness, he had discovered something terrifying, something most people spend their whole lives trying to ignore:

We are always alone.

Surrounded by people or not.

Loved or unloved.

Embraced or abandoned.

In the end, we live alone.

We die alone.

Yes, Jack still chased connection.

He wanted love, companionship, even the dream of a family.

But he understood—painfully so—that none of those things were the reason to live.

They were just part of the experience.

We live to live.

To face every storm and still walk forward.

And even if it all amounts to nothing before death, that journey... that effort—that’s what mattered.

So, no—today wasn’t the day to stop and chat.

Not during his walk.

Just then, the door to the hotel opened behind him.

"Jack!" a familiar voice called.

Jack didn’t turn around.

He didn’t need to.

He had already sensed His Ki—Lucas, vibrant but scattered.

Jack raised a hand, waving without looking back.

Lucas jogged to catch up, falling into step beside the towering figure.

Standing next to Jack always made people feel small—not just physically, but spiritually.

His presence was overwhelming, like standing next to a mountain that could decide to move at any moment.

Lucas tried to mask it. "What’s up?"

"On my walk," Jack replied, voice flat but not unkind.

Lucas caught the message.

Jack didn’t want to talk—not yet.

So, he fell silent, respecting the rhythm.

They walked like that for a while, moving through the territory, crossing past familiar buildings until they neared the pool club—still their main base of operations.

Jack finally slowed and turned his head slightly.

"Why did you follow me all the way here?"

Lucas exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

"Honestly, I came to talk to Kai. But he’s not around—I didn’t see the SUV. Figured I’d talk to you too."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "And what did you want to talk to me about?"

Lucas hesitated, then stepped into it. "I was wondering why you never took a high position in the gang."

Jack looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Lucas gestured vaguely with his hands. "Kevin and I manage the hotels and the land.

Tristan handles the gambling dens, strip clubs, and fight clubs.

Mai runs all the finances with Kai. Everyone’s got a piece of the gang.

But you—you’ve never asked for anything. Never demanded a seat at the table. Why?"

A slow grin spread across Jack’s face. "Because I do have a position. Just not one everyone knows about."

Lucas squinted. "What is it?"

Jack’s grin turned into something more.

His aura shifted—golden energy flickering to life around his skin like fire.

His red eyes gleamed.

"I’m Elijah’s bodyguard," Jack said. "After beating Kai—really beating him—I became the strongest. The only one."

He took a step closer, voice unwavering.

"I’m the immovable wall. The round block that stops anyone who thinks they can touch Elijah. That’s my role."

Lucas stepped back slightly, sighing. "Please don’t tell me you’re turning into Kai. Obsessed with Elijah now?"

Jack laughed, the sound rich and honest. "Live with the guy. Then you’ll understand why Kai’s obsessed. Elijah’s not just a leader. He’s something more."

Lucas shook his head. "I haven’t even seen you go all out. Not once."

Jack’s grin faded into something more thoughtful, more reserved. His voice dropped, laced with quiet steel.

"You haven’t seen me go all out," he said, "Then Let me show you."