-Sizzle!-

"..."

The low crackle of the campfire under the dim full moon was pure catharsis for the three.

"..." Nobody chose to speak, as it wasn't necessary now. Nobody chose to look around, as it wasn't necessary now. Nobody chose to care: since it wasn't. Necessary. Now.

At that moment, the only thing they saw was the fire, the only thing they heard was the fire, and the only thing they felt was the fire; no fear, no responsibilities, insecurities, hatred, rage, sadness, love, any and all strenuous feelings were flushed down the drain when they neared its comforting flames...

It was just them. Them and the fire; three empty slates and the eraser responsible.

Like I said: Pure Catharsis.

But all good things could never last forever, I suppose...

-Step!-

Everyone turned to glare at the intruder, their eyes simultaneously turning a menacing red, and if looks could kill, their wayward guest would've been slaughtered ten times over.

Unsurprisingly, the newcomer let out a girlish 'Eep!' before trying to scurry off into the bushes from whence they came.

"Eh?! Ahhh— oomph!" ...Only to trip and fall, hitting the sand face first.

Connor sighed, got up and subdued the unknown figure, putting his knee on their back, "Who are you? I told the others here to back the fuck away," He interrogated, pressing his full weight on the knee.

They gasped, struggling to get away from him, but when they found it impossible to do so, they gave up and answered, "I-I'm sorry... I swear I didn't mean no harm!" Although hidden by the shadows, his voice betrayed both his youth and his gender to the trio. Coincidentally, Malkov's ears pricked up when he heard the man.

"Wait... Sima?" Malkov looked incredulous, almost not believing he was here. "What are you doing here? And how'd you find us?" And for a good reason too: they had separated several dozens of kilometres back, and unless he was actively tracking them, he'd never... oh...

"Sima. I have to ask you a question," He said, his voice chillingly monotonous, sending shivers down Sima's spine, "Have you been following us?"

"..." There wasn't an answer, but from how the young man flinched, it was painfully clear to everyone Malkov's guess was correct.

Now everyone's full attention was on him, and even if it was just in his imagination, Sima still felt the pressure on him multiply one-hundredfold, making him let out another, albeit weaker 'eep!'.

Mariya was in front of him in an instant, her dagger placed riiight under his chin, "I'm only going to ask this once, so play nice for me, will you?" She smiled sweetly, though it didn't come any closer to reaching her eyes than if you told her she's just been scammed of all her money and she's the one going to jail for obstructing their efforts in stealing said money!

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

He wanted to nod, but feeling the cold piece of sharpened steel on his moderately tan skin made him decide otherwise, opting to grunt instead, hoping to whatever being up there she knew that was a yes and not a 'you'll never be getting anything out of me!'

She narrowed her eyes, and he felt the knife inch ever closer to his neck. Soon it pricked his skin, and he shut his eyes, praying tearfully to himself, 'Pleasehelppleasehelppleasehelp! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!! I'm too young to dieeeeeeeeeeeeee!!'

He waited fearfully for the knife to stab him, waited for his date with death, waited for the burst of pain... that... that never came?

The seconds ticked by without the knife moving an inch, and after a minute or so of nervous waiting, he finally gathered the courage to open his eyes:

In front of him was a grinning Mariya, her smile practically screaming, 'Hah! You fell for it, idiot!'.

"W-W-Wuh??" He stammered in confusion which somehow made her already impossibly wide grin even wider!

"I can't really question you if you're dead, now can I?" No, she cannot, he realized belatedly before kicking himself in shame.

Mariya ignored the deep blush on his cheeks, her face back to the cold expression everyone had affectionately taken to calling her 'work' face, "Back to where we left off: why were you following us, hm?"

He answered straight away, the tone of his voice indignant and prideful, like he was offended by the fact that they felt the need to ask, "Hmph! Obviously, because you dolts didn't want to accept the offer I so graciously extended to you, I wanted to follow you, wait till you inevitably get lost, then come swooping in to save the day, duh!"

Everyone was, to put it in nicer terms, speechless.

To put it into more vulgar terms? They were so unanimously stupe-fucking-fied by his brain-melting, concussion-inducing and, frankly absurd statement they felt like ten thousand bolts of lightning had just struck them while a crowd of angry soldiers were lining up to gouge their eyes, rip their tongues and slice up their extremities before being ploughed by the cocks of every animal that came to mind, all at the same time. And to be honest, if it wasn't for me deliberately omitting a few things, this description would've been far, far worse.

Surprisingly, it was Connor who snapped out of it first. And although he'd love to say it was because he was really good at recovering from surprises, it was more so the fact that he'd dealt with similar people during his time at school (he shudders to imagine the number of people without growing out of this insane obliviousness that will get them killed sooner or later).

"Why do I never get to deal with remotely normal people..." He griped defeatedly. First was a guy who thought implanting a bomb into his friend's(?) cranium would help bring him on their side; now came along this asshole who's apparently never heard of 'No, I don't want anything to do with you or your product, please get the fuck away from me,'.

"Hey! I'll have you know I am perfectly norma—" He was tersely interrupted by Connor's hand over his mouth. After a few moments of useless struggling, he eventually gave up, to which Connor also got off him.

"Look, we don't want anything to do with you, and you're only gonna get yourself hurt if you keep following us, right guys?" He turned to his friends for support, knowing that, by now, they should've recovered from their momentary shock.

"That's right," Malkov said, "We're gonna be fighting a whole lotta dangerous guys out there, and we can barely survive ourselves! We can't protect a civilian on top of that,"

"I can fight perfectly fin—"

"It's not just about fighting, though I doubt you'd be able to deal with anything we're dealing with. No, it's revenge. And we don't want some stranger coming in willy nilly, no matter how good their intentions are," Mariya interjected, her hands touching the back of her head when she said that last part.

Connor and Malkov sidled closer to her, each having one hand on her shoulders.

She nodded reassuredly at them before turning to Sima, "Anyways, that's why you can't follow. So please go away and forget we ever exis—,"

"But what if I can help you with Don Khai?"

"—What?!"