As Orano approached the group, their laughter abruptly ceased, replaced by a curious glance at one another.

"Wasn't Jonathan your closest friend?" one inquired, "You spent so much time together."

"He was a fool," Orano replied, his voice laced with disdain. "Couldn't even afford a proper drink."

"Remember that time at the bar?" the other person chuckled. "He made such a spectacle of himself, throwing himself onto the table."

"And he screamed before that!" they added, their laughter escalating into a boisterous chorus.

Just as their mirth reached its peak, a gentle tap on Orano's shoulder interrupted their merriment.

"Excuse me," a voice said, "I need to ask you something."

Orano, still intoxicated, was momentarily confused. He slowly turned, his gaze meeting the stranger's.

"What do you want, kid?" he inquired, his tone dismissive.

"I'd like you to return that leg," the stranger replied calmly.

The group exchanged bewildered glances. Orano, however, merely chuckled.

"A kid like you telling me what to do?" he scoffed. "I'm sorry, but I haven't got time for this. Go cry with your friends somewhere else."

As they turned to leave, the stranger tapped Orano's shoulder again.

This time, Orano's patience snapped. He whirled around, his anger evident.

"Didn't I—" he began, but before he could finish, Orano delivered a powerful uppercut, sending the stranger reeling. He then grabbed the man's face and slammed him to the ground.

Terrified, the stranger reached for his sword.

"Hey, you!" he shouted, "What are you—"

Before he could attack, Orano kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying through the window of a nearby house.

Caitrin watched in astonishment. He actually did it, she thought.

After the fight, Orano calmly picked up the leg and tossed it to Caitrin. She looked at him quizzically for a moment before taking the leg and reattaching it to the injured boy.

"There you go," she said. "Stay here. I'll be back."

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

Caitrin rushed towards Orano, her heart pounding in her chest. Orano, returning his sword to its sheath, spoke calmly.

"Now that we've dealt with that, let's address the auction and leave."

"You're right," Caitrin replied, her voice laced with relief. "With the children safe, we should avoid further chaos. If we continue like this, they'll surely come after us."

As soon as she finished speaking, Orano's gaze darted around, scanning the surroundings with a keen intensity.

"What are you looking at?" Caitrin asked, her voice tinged with apprehension.

Orano appeared calm, but a certain unease hung in the air. It was as if he sensed something approaching.

Just then, a figure materialized seemingly out of nowhere, moving with a speed that suggested they had flown from the beginning of the street. They lunged towards Orano, their weapon raised.

Orano, however, was quicker. He stepped in front of Caitrin, drew his sword, and parried the incoming attack.

A young man, clearly a skilled swordsman, stood before them. His iron sword, with its black hilt, glinted in the light. He was in his early twenties, with short blue hair and piercing yellow eyes. His attire was dark blue, consisting of pants, gloves, and a uniform that resembled a suit.

As their blades clashed, Orano met the young man's gaze. The solemn expression on the man's face never wavered.

Orano pressed forward, their swords a blur of motion. Just as their blades were about to meet, a woman appeared, mirroring the young man's sudden arrival. She pointed her sword at Orano, her eyes as sharp and focused as his.

The woman was also in her early twenties, dressed in a long black outfit with a white cape. Her hair, a vibrant blonde, seemed to glow, and her eyes were an emerald green.

As the standoff continued, a man accompanied by a group of soldiers approached. The soldiers were dressed identically to the young girl, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight.

Caitrin gasped, her face etched with surprise. "This must be the Sniper Unit," she muttered.

The man, in his mid-twenties, had long, tied-back hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a white shirt, a black vest with a blue collar, white pants, and a blue cape. A sly smile played on his lips.

"Excellent work as always, Runo, Lydia," he said, addressing the young man and woman. Then, turning to Orano, he said, "So, it was you who caused the trouble? You should know that there will be consequences."

Caitrin's gaze was filled with righteous indignation as she addressed the man.

"Your actions are the true crime," she declared. "An innocent child's leg has been stolen, and you, the people, and the government do nothing to protect him. How can you claim freedom when you disregard your own citizens?"

The man's expression darkened, his anger evident. "You dare to speak to me in such a tone?" he retorted. "Your foolish actions have made you a criminal. You'll rot in a dungeon, regretting ever crossing my path."

Orano met his gaze, his voice steady. "The same goes for you," he replied. "You must understand the gravity of your actions. Your manipulation of the people, your disregard for the Royal Society—all of it. When the truth comes to light, you will face severe consequences."

Orano's words ignited a murmur among the crowd, their attention turning to the Earl. The atmosphere grew tense.

The Earl, his anger palpable, glared at Orano. His face contorted in fury, his eyes filled with a venomous intensity.

But then, a slow, chilling smile crept across his lips. He approached Orano, his voice a whisper.

"You may be right," he said, "but as you can see, there's no one here to challenge me. A mere creature hunter like you cannot dictate my rule. Remember this: no one can stand against me. Never forget that."

Orano remained unperturbed, his expression unchanged.

The Earl turned to his soldiers. "Take them to the dungeon," he commanded. "I'll deal with them later."

The soldiers seized Tatsumi and Caitrin, their rough hands gripping their arms. With little resistance, they were led away, their fate sealed.