âoh, my!â
eventually, i sat down as i lost stamina, and adrian stopped chasing the pickpocket and looked back at me. i pointed back at the man who was running away quickly with a frown on my face.
ârian! donât mind me and follow him! you have to catch it!â
âgrrrrrrrrrrâ¦â
adrian growled, as if understanding my order, and then chased after the man again.
* * *
gasping for breath, it was a dead end where i found adrian.
âfuck, let go of me! you son of a bitch!â
fortunately, adrian seemed to have caught a pickpocket. i clapped my hands when i found rian biting the manâs back.
âthere you go! good job! my baby!â
adrian, who turned his face and saw my happy reaction, grabbed the manâs collar and began to shake him.
âturn, turn, turn!â
perhaps straining from adrianâs hold, the man raised his voice sharply and searched his pocket, âiâll give it back! so let me go!â
i picked up the money bag that the man had dropped and raised my thumb to rian.
âgreat job, rian!â
adrian threw the man away and ran toward me with a big goofy smile. i opened my arms wide as if ready to receive a hug. he jumped into my arms and i stroked his head enthusiastically.
âso pretty. where did such a pretty rian come from?â
iâm sure heâs from the royal family.
i raised my head, muttering to myself the question even when i knew the answer. the pickpocket, who was tearing at the collar that rian caught, looked back at me.
âare you the owner of this bastard?â
the man had his face completely covered with a long piece of cloth from the tip of his nose. the bright yellow eyes that met mine were sharp as if they belonged to an animal with long pupils.
âare you the bastard who stole my money bag?â i responded, unafraid of the pickpocketâs threat.
the man was a little taller than adrian, but he was similarly slender. at least adrian, who wouldâve been thoroughly trained as a crown prince, was unlikely to lose.
âweâll just fight when itâs absolutely necessary.â
considering the time adrian bit jian, it was a good plan.
âhey, bastard? you talk a lot even when we just met.â
he was the one who said adrian was a bastard when he first saw him.
i narrowed my eyes at the pickpocketâs fierce glare. he grabbed his neck and shook his head, and then approached me in a hurry.
âgrrrrrrrrrâ¦â
adrian growled furiously as if wary of the approaching pickpocket.
âthat slave caught me and broke my arm. how are you going to take responsibility?â the pickpocket asked with a raised brow, an armâs distance away from me. âthanks to you, iâm out of business today, so how are you going to take responsibility?â
âwhat is this man shamelessly saying after stealing someone elseâs money?â
âerr, you look fine. what are you talking about?â i stammered as i stared at his bright yellow eyes.
âit hurts and i canât even move it. what, are you okay?â
the man laughed loudly and raised his fluttering arm as if amazed by what i said.
âdid something the size of a chestnut got stuck to the soles of your feet up to your eyes? canât you see?â
âwow, look at this thief!â
my eyes almost popped out of their sockets in amazement at his manner.
âhey. get lost before i call the police! what do you mean you broke your arm? you were pickpocketing and we just happened to catch you on the act!â
âpolice?â
the manâs long eyebrows rose crookedly at my words.
âthere are no police in shamua. this is a place where noblemen come out and commit crimes.â
the man murmured softly as he bowed his head. his features were covered with his hood, but my face was clearly visible.
âhey, youâre not from here, are you?â
he observed my face curiously as if watching a stranger and then clicked his tongue.
âi thought you were royalty because you carried a slave all day, but somehow your pocket was light.â
the manâs eyes were filled with joy as if he had found his prey. i had an ominous feeling with creased eyes.
âitâs illegal for foreigners to carry slaves, what should i do?â
âwhat?â
the man, who was smiling as he looked at me and adrian back and forth, shrugged his shoulders.
âshould i report it and get a reward?â
âi heard thereâs no police here!â
âtrue, there are no police in this city, but itâs teeming with slave traders. a slave of a foreigner is like a slave without an owner.â
the manâs eyes glistened as if he was going to sell adrian to another place at any moment.
ânow, wait a minute! wait!â
i gasped, catching up to the man who turned his back on me.
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