ALL MY WIVES ARE BEAUTIFUL ELVES

Chapter 142 Fix my mother back!!

In the dilapidated area, a mosaic of despair unfolded as multiple kids lingered by decaying buildings and damp grounds. Their hands, held out in a silent plea, bespoke the hardship etched into every crevice of this forgotten corner. The surroundings mirrored the melancholy that clung to the atmosphere, a testament to the darker underbelly of the city, notorious for its soaring crime rates and the plight of internally displaced people.

Amid the crumbling structures, makeshift tents perched precariously by the roadside, providing scant shelter to those who called this desolation home. Unbarricaded windows of taller buildings loomed above, each pane framing a voyeuristic glimpse into the struggles below. The buildings themselves, a patchwork of broken windows and sagging structures, stood like silent witnesses to the decay that defined the area.

Mothers, their weary eyes reflecting the weight of their circumstances, clung desperately to babies swathed in tattered rags and makeshift cloths. The air bore witness to the hushed lullabies and whispered assurances of love, attempting to provide solace in a place where solace seemed a distant memory.

The children on the streets, a vibrant yet haunting presence, scrambled in a chaotic dance for toys and resources. Their laughter, a fragile melody against the backdrop of decay, painted a stark contrast to the harsh reality that defined their lives. Each toy, scavenged from the ruins, was a cherished treasure, a fleeting moment of joy in a world that seemed to have forgotten them.

The environment itself was a letdown, a canvas of neglect and abandonment. Potholes filled with murky water dotted the uneven road, reflecting the brokenness that extended beyond the physical landscape. Graffiti, a silent outcry, adorned the dilapidated walls, each stroke telling a story of dreams deferred and hopes extinguished.

The aroma of desperation lingered, an amalgamation of dampness, decay, and the resilience of those who dared to endure. This was not just a forgotten neighborhood; it was the territory of the Blood Wolf—a pack navigating the harsh realities of life, where survival was both a victory and a curse.

In this letdown environment, the struggle for survival painted a vivid tapestry of despair, a narrative etched in the very fabric of the place. It was a symphony of broken dreams and resilient spirits, echoing through the alleyways, carried by the wind that whispered secrets only the forgotten could comprehend.

Along the streets, two men walked by.

The men walking past the kids begging on the road side which was filled with potholes and murky water had an aura about them.

As they turned to a corner, they stopped, sensing a shift in the air, both men laughed.

One of them had brown hair and a bouquet of mustache and was about six feet tall.

His comrade was a lot taller, going by his looks, most likely around 6'5".

The taller amongst the two said to his much shorter friend..."Hehe...look what we have here Roman, we've got a bunch of upset little cunts!!" The man spat with disdain, all the while, backing whatever they knew was behind them.

Roman, addressing Marhal responded, "They probably want their toys back, go on, hand it over," Roman, the much shorter one said to Marhal.

"Not a chance, mate" Marhal said to Roman, turning around to see a bunch of kids, all with yellow eyes glowing fiercely. Teeth were bared out of their mouths and looking at their hands, they all had claws sticking out of them.

"Okay pups, why don't you run back to your daddies before I do something to y'all. Oh wait, you don't know your daddies!" Marhal made fun of the kids.

These kids in question were not just ordinary kids. Far from that, these were all young werewolves and from all indications, it appeared they had some grievances with the two older figures in the alley.

"You...you made my mother sick! She's not able to get up anymore right after you left our tent last night!!!" One of the kids, taller than the rest, stood out amongst them to say.

He wore a brown buttonless jacket and a pair of shorts. His black hair appeared disheveled and he looked quite malnourished over all.

Yet, from his voice, his anger was palpable.

Roman, using one hand, drew Marhal back and stayed in front, addressing the kids. He glanced at them and from rough estimates alone, he could say they were at least around fifty in number. As with the short time they had spent, more kept surfacing.

"Okay kid, what's your name?" Roman asked.

"It doesn't matter. All I want is for that bastard to undo what he did to my mother!!" The feisty kid pointed back at Marhal.

"Your mother? You keep talking about your mother! I've been with a lot of mother's, ya gotta be specific you little cunt!!" Marhal said from behind.

*Grrrrrr*

A deep throated growl escaped the mouth of the kid who seemed to be leading the charge.

"Perhaps, if you'd let me talk to them, Marhal. They are just young and foolish. They don't know who we are," Roman said, walking briskly towards the large number of kids.

And as he took steps, his eyes began to take a dark red colour. This caused the other kids to begin to take cautious steps backwards. Whimpering as they saw Roman approaching them.

"Omega...he is an Omega!!" They all kept saying as they backed away from Roman.

Marhal stayed back, grinning at what was happening. Before Roman could get to the kids, most of them had already scrambled, running for their lives.

Only a single one backing their leader remained. She was a girl, hiding behind a thrash can and watching the whole thing unfold. Her eyes, just like the rest had gone back to normal colours, no longer glowing as soon as Roman's eyes turned dark red.

"Now kid, tell me that name of yours," Roman said, standing in front of the brown jacket wearing kid.

The kid looked up at Roman, his legs trembling the whole time. Yet, he gritted his teeth and said something to Roman..."It doesn't...matter. Now get out of my way!!"

With a swipe of his hand, the kid scratched Roman's shirt, ripping it apart but to his utter dismay, as Roman's exposed skin came into light, not a single scratch appeared on his stomach.

"Tch...tch...tch. That's not very nice, now is it?" Roman said, looking at the kid with a straight face but it was easy to tell he was suppressing his anger as his aura alone was driving the kid down to his kneels. Even the girl behind the dumpster had to cover her head, as the effect of Roman's aura was draining her as well.

As she crouched in a fetal position, the whole time she kept on saying..."No..no..no... Jasper. He's going to end you now,"