—Thump!
A small body slammed lightly into my side.
At first glance, it looked accidental.
A clumsy stumble.
A child too thin for his age.
Then I felt fingers close around Amelia’s wrist.
Fast.
Practiced.
Desperate.
"Ouch!" the boy yelped theatrically as Amelia reflexively tightened her grip.
His eyes—too sharp for a child—burned with venom inside a gaunt face.
I clicked my tongue.
"Poor technique," I said calmly. "Do you know who you just tried to steal from?"
The boy froze.
Around us, the street subtly shifted.
Shadows leaned closer.
Breaths paused.
In the dark district, nobles received only two kinds of treatment.
Prey—
or monsters.
And the difference was decided in the first heartbeat.
I smiled.
Not warmly.
"Ladies," I said lightly, glancing at Emma and Amelia, "what do you think? Shall we cut off his wrist?"
The air went dead still.
That did it.
The watching figures flinched. Some shrank back into alleys. Others pressed themselves flat against walls. A few melted into doorways and stairwells, vanishing like smoke.
Fear spread faster than blood here.
The boy’s bravado cracked instantly.
"H–Hey! I didn’t—!" His voice wobbled. "I was just—!"
Emma crouched in front of him, her movements slow and deliberate. Her expression was calm—but her eyes were sharp enough to carve bone.
"Just hungry?" she asked.
The boy swallowed.
"...Yeah."
A lie.
Not a clean one, either.
Amelia tightened her hold just enough to make a point. "Hungry children don’t aim for the pulse."
The boy’s face drained of color.
I leaned closer, lowering my voice so only kid could hear.
"Here’s how this works," I said calmly. "You tried to take from us. That means you wagered your life on our mercy."
The boy’s lips trembled violently.
I straightened, then deliberately swept my gaze across the surrounding shadows—alleys, rooftops, half-broken windows where eyes were clearly watching.
"Anyone else feeling lucky?" I asked lightly.
Silence.
Not a single breath answered me.
"...Enough. Let him go."
The voice cut in, sharp and controlled.
I turned.
Fortunately, it wasn’t someone frozen in fear—or trying to play the hero.
It was Emma.
She stepped forward, her expression filled with naked disdain, as though she were looking at something she’d scraped off her boot.
"Did you really think I came all this way just to watch blood spill?" she said flatly.
I blinked once.
Then smiled.
"As you command," I replied, giving an exaggerated, mocking bow.
The moment I released my grip—
"Eek!"
The pickpocket didn’t even look back. He bolted down the alley, tripping over himself as he ran, vanishing into the maze of streets in seconds.
"Kid," I called lazily after him, "be careful who you mess with next time. Or else—"
He was already gone.
"...You went too far," Emma said, crossing her arms. "You scared him half to death."
"Can’t even see his heels anymore," I muttered, watching the empty alley.
She shot me a sideways glance. "...Did you really have to do all that?"
"Yes," I answered without hesitation.
Emma frowned slightly.
"A place soaked in desire is always chaotic," I continued. "And chaos doesn’t quiet itself. It needs order."
– Tuck, tuck.
I brushed the dust from my hand—the same one that had been wrapped around the boy’s wrist moments ago.
"Whether that order comes from law," I added, "or violence."
Emma stared at me for a long second.
"...It’s strange hearing that from a demon," she said. "Are you even aware of that?"
I shrugged. "We usually favor the latter."
That earned me a small huff—almost a laugh, though she tried to hide it.
I extended my hand toward her.
The same hand I’d just cleaned off.
"No time to linger," I said. "Let’s find the thieves’ guild while the rumors are still fresh."
Emma looked down at my hand, hesitating for half a second—
Then took it.
"Right," she said, grip firm. "Now that we’re here, there’s no turning back."
Her fingers tightened.
Not with contempt this time.
With resolve.
The will in her eyes—focused, sharp, unwavering—suited her far better than scorn.
"Ah," I added, glancing over my shoulder, "Lady Amelia. It might be time you snapped out of it too."
"Wh-what do you mean ’snap out of it’?" Amelia snapped, instantly flustered. "I’m perfectly fine!"
"...Are you?"
She froze.
That was unexpected.
Of the three of us, Amelia was supposed to be the most familiar with the dark district. Earlier, she’d been talking nonstop—routes, gangs, back alleys, warnings.
But now...
’Come to think of it,’ I realized, ’she’s been avoiding my eyes for a while.’
Every time I glanced at her, she turned her head away just a little too fast.
I slowed my steps.
"Amelia," I said carefully, "you’ve gone quiet."
"I haven’t!" she shot back. Too fast. Too sharp.
Emma raised an eyebrow. "You’re walking like someone headed to the gallows."
"That’s because this place is disgusting," Amelia muttered. "And you—"
She stopped herself.
"And me?" I prompted.
"...Nothing."
I hummed softly. "You sure?"
Her ears turned red.
Emma noticed immediately.
"Oh?" Emma smirked. "Is something bothering you?"
"N-no!"
I leaned closer, lowering my voice just enough to tease.
"Strange," I said. "You were staring at me earlier. Now you won’t even look."
Amelia nearly tripped over a loose stone.
"T-that was nothing! I was just—watching for threats!"
"Mm," I replied. "Very vigilant."
Emma snorted outright.
Amelia spun on her. "You too?!"
The tension finally cracked.
Good.
In a place like this, staying wound too tight only invited disaster.
I straightened and gestured ahead, where lantern-light dimmed and the streets narrowed into something far less welcoming.
"Come on," I said. "If my guess is right, the thieves’ guild won’t be far."
"And if you’re wrong?" Emma asked.
I smiled faintly.
"Then we’ll let the city know we’re looking for them."
Amelia swallowed. "That... doesn’t sound subtle."
"It isn’t," I replied.
"But in the dark district," I added quietly, "fear travels faster than whispers."
And judging by the way the shadows shifted around us—
They were already listening.