Ryojin walked toward the counter, lifting the tray with a calm, almost indifferent motion. He placed it down gently.
"Here is the tray," he said, his voice even.
Jin, the restaurant owner, took it with a smile. "Glad to serve you," he said, gratitude lacing his tone. "Hope you come back next time."
Ryojin gave him a small nod and turned to leave, but before he could take another step, a firm grip caught his arm.
He glanced back.
It was Gesbine.
The older man hesitated for a moment, his eyes studying Ryojin's back before he spoke.
"I apologize on behalf of my comrade," Gesbine said, his tone even yet carrying a sense of sincerity. He cast a glance toward Asketh, who was now seated with Debav, seemingly unconcerned. "He's… a bit childish."
Ryojin remained still for a moment.
"It's all good," he muttered, not bothering to turn back. "I was about to leave either way."
Gesbine's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Ryojin's figure. Beneath the cloth draped over the man's back, a faint outline—a sword.
"If I may ask," Gesbine spoke again, his curiosity growing, "are you from this kingdom?"
Ryojin stiffened slightly.
Did this man sense something? Did he somehow know?
If Gesbine had even the slightest inkling that he was a member of the Abyssal Clans, things could get messy fast, of course for Gesbine.
"…No." Ryojin's answer was short, clipped. Without another word, he stepped past Gesbine and walked out of the restaurant.
Outside, the night air was crisp and cool.
Ryojin exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the towering castle in the distance. It stood at the heart of the kingdom, its silver spires illuminated under the moonlight, a beacon of power. It was the only structure that looked to be in good condition.
Yet, to him, it was meaningless.
He had no place to go.
With a sigh, he sat on the edge of the street opposite the restaurant, deep in thought.
His moment of quiet, however, was quickly shattered.
The pounding of footsteps filled the air.
A flicker of tension crept into Ryojin's muscles.
He turned his head slightly, listening.
Someone was approaching—fast.
His eyes sharpened. Was someone following him?
He rose to his feet, walking toward the narrow alley where the footsteps echoed louder.
Then, he saw them.
Streams of flickering light in the distance—lamps. Voices, shouting.
"Don't let him escape!"
"Catch him!"
"Thief!"
Ryojin's expression remained unreadable, but his mind raced.
Were they coming after him?
No… he hadn't stolen anything.
And then, amid the chaos, a figure in black dashed past him.
The thief's face was concealed beneath a dark mask, only their eyes visible—sharp, calculating.
Ryojin's gaze flickered toward the crowd of angry civilians rushing toward him, their breaths heavy.
A man in fine black robes stepped forward, desperation in his eyes.
"Where did the thief go?" he demanded.
An idea clicked in Ryojin's mind.
If he caught the thief, he would be rewarded.
"How much will you pay?" Ryojin asked, his voice calm, almost uninterested.
The man's expression lit up with hope. "Anything you ask for. Just bring back my jewelry!"
That was all Ryojin needed to hear.
Without another word, he turned and sprinted after the thief.
The restaurant door swung open as Gesbine and his two comrades stepped outside.
The sound of shouting still filled the streets.
"What's all the noise?" Gesbine muttered, his sharp eyes catching a glimpse of Ryojin running.
"Why is he running?"
The man in black robes turned to him. "He's chasing the thief that stole my jewelry."
A strange look flickered in Gesbine's eyes.
And then, without hesitation, he ran after Ryojin.
Despite his age, he moved with the swiftness of a seasoned warrior.
Meanwhile…
Ryojin was already closing the distance.
Yet, the moment he was out of sight from the crowd, his feet barely touched the ground.
With inhuman speed, he vanished.
In an instant, he cut off the thief's escape, appearing right in front of them.
The thief skidded to a halt, their breathing heavy, eyes wide with shock.
"You're coming with me," Ryojin said simply, stepping forward. "Give it up. You can't outrun me."
The thief whirled around—but the moment they turned, Ryojin was already standing in front of them.
A sharp intake of breath.
They tried again—running in the opposite direction—only to find Ryojin there too.
Left. Right.
Each time, the thief found themselves blocked by the same man.
A deep sigh left their lips.
"…Come on, man," the thief said, their voice carrying a hint of frustration. "Can't we talk this out?"
Ryojin narrowed his eyes.
A woman's voice.
She took a step back, then raised her hands.
"If you want," she continued, "we can split the items. Eighty to twenty ratio."
Ryojin didn't respond immediately.
He hesitated.
A woman.
Capturing her would mean forcing her into submission, perhaps even hurting her—and that went against everything Ryojin stood for. No matter the circumstances, he never raised a hand against a woman. It wasn't just a rule he followed; it was an unshakable conviction buried deep within him.
But… he also needed money.
Before he could decide, a familiar presence was approaching —fast.
Gesbine.
Ryojin's eyes flashed. He was almost here.
With no time to think, Ryojin grabbed the thief and vanished into the night with speed.
A few moments later…
Gesbine stopped in the narrow street, his sharp gaze scanning the area.
Nothing.
Only the silence of empty alleyways.
"…I could've sworn I saw them here," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. Am I getting old?
With a sigh, he turned and walked away.
A rooftop, overlooking the city.
Ryojin stood there, his arms still holding the thief. From this distance, he could clearly see Gesbine heading back.
Odd. His vision had never been this sharp before.
"…Hey."
The voice pulled him from his thoughts.
Ryojin looked down at the thief, still in his arms.
"Mind putting me down?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Without a word, he set her down gently.
She stretched her arms and let out a sigh. "Thanks for the save. I was pretty sure I was gonna get caught." She glanced at him. "Damn. You're fast."
She took off her mask, revealing a beautiful young woman with long, flowing black hair.
Ryojin blinked.
She smirked. "So? Who are you? And why did you help me?"
"…I'm a traveler," he replied, his voice low. "I need a place to stay. Three or four days."
To his surprise, she agreed without hesitation.
"Alright."
Just like that.
Ryojin frowned slightly. Why was she so quick to trust him?
"Come on," she waved at him. "We should get moving."
She turned and began walking.
Ryojin watched her for a moment.
Then, without a word, he followed.