[The handless usurper approves of your schemes.]

June heard a whisper. The voice was low, barely audible, but of such a sonorous ring, a deafening clarity he felt it resonate through his very being.

A slight grin traveled to the corners of his dark lips.

“Oh, dear me...”

His face became stoic as sweat fell down his smooth chin. He softened his expression at the sight of a little girl or maybe a boy of barely ten clad in tattered rags who nodded to him.

‘About time.’

Appearing from a now-empty ally, June dove into a bustling street.

A boisterous fishmonger boasted of the day's fresh catch, his shouts blending with the melodic trill of a supposedly blind violinist further down the street. A young flower girl offered sprigs of lavender and rosemary, their scent mingling with the aroma of chimney smoke and freshly baked bread wafting from the corner bakery.

Waves of men and women treaded the paved road. Each exuded an aura of hurriedness, their walk almost mechanical. Most men wore black hats and coats accompanied by a cane for some, while women were mostly adorning big skirts, colorful bonnets, and waist-tight corsets. Children dashed between legs. Some peddled newspapers, their shrill cries announcing the latest scandal or cricket match. Others, less fortunate, begged for spare pennies.

‘There you are.’ June found his prey amidst the maze of faces.

He paced down, receiving some hard glares and groans for which he promptly excused himself.

The gentleman was dressed similarly to most men, if not for his darkish skin tone betraying his peasant origins, his loosely hanging pocket watch, and most importantly, the ever so slight and hard-to-perceive bulge on his coat.

The man had entered a building not long ago, careful to conceal his emotions. However, June knew better. A slight red hue covered his eyes. From afar he could see the excitement from his face.

‘Young, rough manners, uncomfortable in his dresses’

...

Thomas adorned his coat once more after a long time. The last time he wore it, he saw his uncle's Bradford lifeless body get carried by the sea. A fitting burial for someone who spent most of his days sailing. But who would have known the old man accumulated so much unused wealth? About a 1000 pounds! The poor man had no child since his wife died years ago during the delivery of his first and only child who, in a twist of fate, didn’t live to be 3.

“Now see who the fish stinking fool is” Thomas muttered.

His grin was fast to disappear as he felt the estranged gaze of a young child in ragged clothes following his loud rant. Of course, he shouldn’t have to appear too obnoxious. Too many stories of brave men and women getting pillated after exiting a bank.

He clenched his jaws, then attempted his best poker face.

‘Don’t get carried away Thomy, you’ll soon be rich anyways.’

After fighting his way to the bank entrance, Thomas's decorum of seriousness once more felt.

“Magnificent,” he said.

Constructed from solid, grey stone, the building exuded an air of permanence, almost defying the passage of time. Grand, fluted columns rose from the street level, supporting an entablature carved with classical motifs – wreaths, eagles, and figures symbolizing prosperity and strength. Above one could see large arched windows, framed by detailed moldings.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Of course, he had seen greater and more refined buildings. However, only this one carried the promise of a life-changing event.

Thomas stilled his resolve as he passed through the oak door.

...

‘Not bad’ Thomas thought as he reentered the bustling streets.

It had taken him way longer than he thought to navigate through the bank and even longer to convince that forsaken clerk to give him directly a sizable amount, but what could he do? Aristocratic things, they say. However, he wouldn’t leave all his hard-earned money in the hands of some rich folk. But that wasn’t so important anymore. What was, were the 150 pounds he carried tightly under his coat inside a pouch.

“Thief!!!” A juvenile, barely manly voice resounded from within the crowd.

At the signal, numerous were those to tightly grab their coats. Officers stationed around the bank started moving as if woken up. Nevertheless, the majority of the eyes searched for the aforementioned treat.

“There!” The young man shouted once more.

Almost a hundred meters away, a young child, apparently malnourished and with messy hair to her waist dashed across the street.

At her sight, many relaxed, some eyes carrying a hint of pity.

However, this sentiment was not absolute. Some men, mostly of a relatively young age, ran after the child.

“Ahh... My deepest apologies sir” a middle-class lady said as she bumped into Thomas.

Her eyes stored a mesmerizing depth, neither too sharp nor too gentle. Her slender nose bridged the gap between her eyes and her thin pale lips. In contrast with her dark bodice, her body gave off a roughly feminine look, almost boyish.

Amidst the confusion, Thomas felt an additional charge weight inside his abdomen. Before he registered what happened, a lump of blood escaped his throat.

...

[The handless usurper laughs from delight at your misery]

‘What the...’

June opened his eyes wide as another cursed whisper reached him.

The plan had been nearly perfect. All he had to do was retrieve the purse as quickly as possible. However, something was amiss. No, a huge thing was. His hand to be precise. One second he couldn’t feel it, but now...

The young man's gaze froze on his lower abdomen. His eyes traced his bloodied stomach back to his assailants' clear eyes.

“Why?” Thomas asked.

June smiled.

“My deepest apologies my good sir,” he said “I may have lacked some professionalism, but let me-”

In the blink of an eye, June's hand phased once more and shifted through Thomas's abdomen as he quickly tried to remember the sensation he previously felt.

Thomas’ eyes somewhat managed to get larger. His black pupils now dilated to the maximum.

“Sorce-“ An abrupt pain traveled from his lungs to his neck, cutting his words short.

The pain came from elsewhere this time, where the bloodied hand seemed to appear and disappear in an unrythmic tempo.

But this was no time to contemplate the mystery. Thomas finally felt out of his daze and sent a powerful jab to his attacker's face.

Just as the strike neared his left jaw, June’s hand at last escaped Thomas’ body, viscera and internal organs exposed.

June let the strike connect with his skin. Using the momentum, he rolled as far as he could into the crowd, his eyes red and rolling.

“Help me! Please!” June waved his mangled hand to the crowd, then to an officer posted near the bank he observed earlier, his pupils scarlet. ‘Agitated, concerned, looking into the direction of where the kid fled’.

“No, you don’t!” Adrenaline overwhelmed Thomas's senses as he jumped on June. He pinned him to the ground and threw him countless punches to the face.

But why was he smiling?

Thomas's fist connected to what looked like a chin before feeling once more a sharp pain, this time on the back. He jerked back and felt a last rush of adrenaline. Without further thought, Thomas threw an awkward punch behind him. His arm flew in almost slow motion before being caught by the officer behind him.

Thomas felt his body hit the floor, his right shoulder getting luxated. However, all those felt like children's bruises compared to the pain he now felt.

He felt both empty and too full. The hole center-most to his stomach burnt through him like he never knew could. He thought he felt his intestines taking fire before he saw some of them lying on the road.

A liquid surged from his abdomen to his mouth. Instead of the ceremonial duck he ate earlier, what came out was a grotesque amount of blood, followed by a fit of cough.

Some onlookers stared at the sorry state of the man in pity while others fled in disgust from his two hideous, yet enormous wounds.

The young officer, short stubble, probably not 30 of age gasped in horror as he grazed the mangled stomach of the supposed assailant. He controlled the urge to throw up and stood away from the soon-to-be corpse.

The man went in a fit of bloody coughs, life leaving him. His right index weakly pointed in a vague direction where one could see a woman entering an alley past a gap in the loose encircling.

“My purse,” Thomas said “Where are my pounds?”