Hector huffed, wiping sweat from his brow as he shimmied between two stalls, his heart hammering in his chest. Were they still chasing? They had to be. There was no way they would let them get away just like that. But they couldn’t use the alleyways like them—he’d have the same problem himself when he got older. Yet that didn’t mean they would let some children get away.

“Mirae, are you alright?” he asked, ducking under a thick wooden support beam connecting two stalls. “We should be close now. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” she said. Hector caught a glimpse of a smile as she glanced back. What was she so happy about?

He placed a hand on her back, damp with sweat, ushering her forward—they might have lost them, but there was no reason to slow down. “Are you doing okay, Mirae?”

“I did it,” she whispered, letting out a small chuckle and hopping over a block of stone. Hector stepped over it. It was lucky for him he didn’t get his foot caught on something like that.

“What did you do, Mirae?” Hector asked, bracing himself against one of the stalls, the fabric tightening against his weight. It wouldn’t collapse—nothing in the Hilda festival would be left standing if it was that fragile.

“Nothing, nothing. I will tell you about it later; you wouldn’t believe me anyway,” she said, walking forward, practically skipping.

Why wouldn’t I believe her? Though, if it relates to her Talent, that would make sense. I haven’t exactly got a good track record of believing her with stuff like that before the system came.

Hector grunted, coming to a stop just behind Mirae as she paused. Looking over her head, he watched as the crowd of people moved by with ease—the people here in the center hadn’t been aware of the little disturbance they’d caused. Hector rested a hand on Mirae’s shoulder as confetti fluttered around them.

Mr. Pennybrook’s stall should be a few paces down the path. Hector craned his neck over Mirae, his gaze bouncing from a bearded man to a young boy, and finally to a drunken fool throwing up behind a stall—that would have not been fun to step in. There were no guards to be seen. Good. They had gotten lucky; the whole thing had been lucky so far. If that squad of guards had had a captain among them, they wouldn’t have made it back.

“Are we sure it’s safe to go out there?” Mirae asked, tilting her head back, locking her purple eyes with Hector’s own. “I don’t see any guards.”

He wanted to nod, but something told him to wait. He took a breath, training his eyes on the crowd as people strolled by in a mist of confetti. Finally, after a few minutes, he jolted. His eyes locked onto the person he wished to see the least right now.

There, at the back of a group of boys—though they tried to carry themselves as men—was Adrian. Strange. The would-be king of the dumps was actually following behind someone else, instead of leading his usual dump guard. What had happened?

“Hector, isn’t that...?”

“Yeah, it’s Adrian. But it seems he’s had a little run-in with Scoda. At least that’s the only thing I can think of.”

“Scoda?” Mirae asked, leaning against a support post of the stall that made up one side of the alleyway. Her small hands gripped the wood, and she frowned, picking confetti off her lips. “Is that another dojo?”

“No, it’s a new gang that’s moved in. I had a run-in with one of their members at the dump. And Adrian spends a lot of time there.”

Mirae brushed a strand of white hair behind her ear, raising an eyebrow as she continued to watch the group. “Did you hurt them?”

What kind of question was that and why was that her first one? He wasn’t that violent. Though... there had been quite the theme recently. “She deserved it; she was picking on someone. And I think they are connected with the Collar Gang.”

“So you attacked her because she was part of the Collar Gang? Hector, what are you doing? That’s not how we were raised.”

“That’s not what I—” The words dried in Hector’s mouth, evaporating to nothing as his heart leapt. Coming out of an alleyway a few stalls down, a confident grin adorning his face, was Lincoln. Bad, this was very bad. Hector couldn’t speak about the others—Scoda gang’s street antics weren’t exactly known to him—but Adrian would definitely cause some issues. He’d never miss an opportunity to screw them over.

“What, what’s wrong?” Mirae asked. She turned to Hector, followed his gaze, and frowned. “That’s not good. We have to warn him?”

How am I meant to do that without putting you at risk? I can’t. I...

Lincoln strolled down the path, his mask long gone, unaware of the trouble he was walking into. Adrian, breaking off from a conversation with a blond-haired boy within his group, spotted Lincoln. A cruel smile tore across his lips.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

Clenching his fist, Hector looked at Mirae. His show-stopping Talents were on a cooldown at the moment, the leftover power inside him not enough to make a difference, but he had the other two. Hector pursed his lips. A few stalls down was Mr. Pennybrook’s stall; if he could go out before and get their attention and give Mirae time to get there, that could work. Though, a much crueller idea surfaced: what if he just waited till they had already started attacking Lincoln?

That would guarantee that they wouldn’t spot Mirae. He shook his head. Resting a hand on her shoulder, he let out a sigh. No. If she found out he did something like that, she’d never forgive him.

Besides, I’ve already abandoned him once today. I can’t make this into a habit. It wouldn’t be right. And as much as my dad annoys me, I can’t help but think he’d say I took the easy way out.

“Mirae, I’m going out there.”

“Are you sure?” she said, gripping the ends of her shirt. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t, but you need to be careful. Alright?”

He nodded. “When I go out there, I want you to make your way to Mr. Pennybrook’s.” Hector tried to crouch, but the space was too tight, so he had to stick with bending forward a little. He then held her gaze, ruffling her hair, and causing her to frown. “Don’t come out once you are in there, alright? Just sit tight.”

“I will.” Mirae moved his hand from her head and held it between her own. She looked over her shoulder, sighing. “There are four of them and only two of you. Make sure you run as soon as you get the opportunity.”

“I will make sure I try to.”

“Hector.”

“Alright, I promise,” he said, pulling his hands from her, squeezing past, and taking a breath. The smell of fried dough with a hint of warm apple tickled his nose. He eyed the four boys as they closed in on Lincoln. He still hadn’t seen them. How could he be so blind?

System, scan the stats of those three boys. I want to see what I’m dealing with.

————————————————

///: Acquiring target stats…

————————————————

///

Cultivation level: [Gravity Forging - 1]

Talent: [None]

Talent Fragment: [None]

///

————————————————

————————————————

///: “The other two are mortals, with no Talents.”

————————————————

So aside from Adrian, the other two are mortal. Maybe Lincoln won’t need my help. But then again, these aren’t the usual starving dogs. They look pretty well-fed.

Taking one last look behind him, nodding—he hoped he wouldn’t regret this—Hector ran out of the alleyway, leaving Mirae behind. He ducked past people, hopping from one foot to the next, to the next, weaving through the crowd and closing in.

“Lincoln. I can’t believe we meet here of all places,” Adrian said, his distant voice snaking to Hector’s ears; it was like a beast who’d found a new toy. “My friends and I were just looking for something fun to do, and here you are.”

“I don’t have time for this, Adrian. Get out of my way,” Lincoln said. Hector’s sandaled feet beat against the cobblestone. He swerved around one last person and had them in his sights. Lincoln was slowly backing up as Adrian stood at the front of the group, a smug look on his ugly face—it probably felt good to be in his old position.

“What’s your hate with worm?” asked an older boy. The wind tousled his brown hair as confetti whipped by. He had a scowl on his face, like the entire thing was a waste of his time. Scratching his cheek, he tapped Adrian on the shoulder. “This better be worth you stopping us; we are meant to meet Claire soon.”

“It should be,” the blond-haired boy Adrian spoke to earlier said, smiling and placing his hands in his pockets. Watching Lincoln with a curious gaze, he gestured to him. “He’s the one who’s been kicking Adrian’s ass for a while now. He even joined our dojo, hoping to become a Mana cultivator and actually win for once. But still nothing.”

“So it’s a childish grudge then,” the older boy said.

The blond one shrugged, looking at the third member of the group. A short boy with a messy mop of black hair whipping in the wind and collecting confetti. The boy shook his head and said nothing.

“It wasn’t him,” Adrian said, scowling.

“Then who was it?” the older boy asked. But before Adrian could answer, Hector’s sandaled feet slapped off the ground. As he flew through the air, he raised his leg and kicked out, slamming his foot into the back of the older boy.

The force sent the boy flying forward, twisting in a bundle of limbs before slamming onto the cobblestone with a thud. Hector dropped to his feet, standing right next to Adrian with a smile. “Hey Adrian, fancy meeting you here.”

The two boys from the group jumped back. Adrian froze, and Lincoln let out a stifled chuckle—he was mad. But they could talk about it later.

“Ghost,” Adrian spat, raising his fist and squaring his stance. “You messed up big this time. You don’t even know what you just did.”

I ambushed someone. Again. I feel like this is becoming a bad habit. But I can’t waste time talking; the guards are still looking for us, and I don’t need to get caught because I was fighting Adrian of all people. I can do that anytime.

“Don’t care.” Hector shot forward, lashing out with two swift punches. The gut shot crippled Adrian. The second to the side of the head put him on the ground. Jumping away from the other two of Adrian’s group, he moved past Adrian—now cradling his head on the floor—and stepped up to Lincoln. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Lincoln raised an eyebrow and let out a deep sigh—it would be a long conversation. But he got into a lowered stance. Confetti whipped around as Adrian and his new leader got off the floor. Hector spared a glance at Mirae. The alleyway he had come from was now abandoned, and a few stalls down, he saw a plume of white hair picking through the crowd. Good.

The older boy rolled his shoulders, his face red with anger as he locked eyes with Hector. “Who the hell is this?”

“Ghost, the one that’s...” Hector held back a smile as the words struggled out of Adrian’s mouth. “He’s the one that’s been giving me problems.”

“I can see why,” the older boy said. “If he was sneak-attacking you like that all the time, he’d be quite difficult to deal with.”

“Yeah. He has been.”

There he goes again, lying. Well, at least some things don’t change.

“Boys, I’m thinking we break those legs of his so he can’t run around sneaking up on others. Call it a public service. What do you think?”

The two others cheered, while Adrian hesitated—looks like the beatings were finally taking hold.

This would probably be a good time to run.