What the hell was that?!
The image of the four-headed monster flashed in Fri's mind, sending another wave of cold sweat down his back as he tried to process what had just happened.
"Earth to you, one-two, is anyone there?"
'Huh?' was all Fri could think as he heard the words. Snapping back to reality, he realized he was standing in the middle of the street he had just arrived at. In front of him was a boy, shorter and thinner than him, wearing a tattered checkered beret. His short olive-colored hair gave him the look of someone straight out of a rural town.
"Hello? Are you alive?"
The skinny boy kept asking his silly questions, flashing a grin upon seeing Fri's perplexed expression.
"Sorry, I thought I saw something and got lost in my own world. My bad for spacing out."
Just as Fri was about to make a quick escape from the awkward situation, the boy grabbed his sleeve and introduced himself.
"People around here call me Wembley. You look lost—need a guide, by any chance?"
The smile on his face was almost childlike, enough to make anyone believe it belonged to someone with a heart full of kindness. But just as some appearances deceive, others reveal the truth—his grin was the kind that only someone who cared for nothing but themselves would wear.
"No need to try and fool me. What do you want?"
Fri's tone turned cold, hoping to intimidate the young thief into backing off and avoiding a fight. But before he could react, three hooded men stepped out from the very alley Fri had come from—each taller and bulkier than the last.
"Just follow my dear friends into the alley, if you know what's good for you."
Wembley let out a rat-like cackle, one that could give any child nightmares for the rest of their life.
Fri scanned the street. The way people kept walking past, avoiding eye contact, made one thing clear—this was normal here. Even if I screamed for help, no one would come. It would only make things worse.
Raising his hands slightly, he surrendered to the muggers, following the three hooded figures down a narrow passage. After a few turns, they arrived at a small courtyard, surrounded by boarded-up windows—the perfect place for something like this.
Wembley sneered, his beady eyes locked onto Fri.
"I don't think I need to say it, but hand over everything you have. A pretty face like yours must be carrying something valuable."
"You saw me come out of an alley, right? Why would someone like that have anything worth stealing? I'm just a traveler with no belongings. You can check for yourself if you want."
Fri subtly nodded, giving him permission to search his pockets.
"Do you think we're stupid? You could have a storage ring on you, keeping all your loot hidden. But now that I think about it… if you really are a traveler, maybe we can use you for something else. I'm sure someone like you would make a fine slave for one of this city's wealthy folks."
The moment he finished speaking, blood rained down—but not from the sky. It came from one of the corners of the courtyard, splattering across Wembley's face and hat. Where a man once stood—a hulking brute, as big as a wardrobe—only a pair of legs remained, collapsing onto the ground.
A dense mist began to roll in, swallowing the city, muting its sounds.
Then, another grotesque noise—a low, guttural growl.
Another burst of blood.
This time, the torso of another thug hit the ground, missing its limbs and head.
'The tiger?!'
Fri could only imagine one thing capable of such carnage in so little time.
Wembley, who moments ago had a sadistic glint in his eyes, now stood trembling, his legs shaking uncontrollably.
"W-what the hell just happened?!"
Even his voice cracked in terror.
Another growl.
A third body dropped.
The last thug's head landed at Wembley's feet.
"J-John!" he screamed.
Legs. Torso. Head. That means the next target is—
Before the thought even fully formed, instinct kicked in. In a split second, Fri dropped to the ground just as another growl echoed through the courtyard.
And then he saw it.
The 'tiger' from before.
With terrifying speed, it lunged at Wembley, tearing both of his arms off with a single swipe. The young thief collapsed, shrieking in agony, his cries morphing into desperate pleas for help—until his voice and his light faded into nothingness.
'What the hell just happened?!'
A final growl, different from the rest.
In a blink, the monster was in front of him.
Its fur was a mixture of gray and black, its body twisted and unnatural. On its left flank, instead of fur, there were eyes—pitch-black voids. Its mouth wasn't lined with teeth but filled with writhing worms of all sizes and colors.
Just one of its claws could rip a human in half.
And Fri had just seen it happen with his own eyes.
The beast roared, shaking the air itself, towering over him as he knelt on the ground, frozen in fear.
This was it.
He was done for.
But then—
A voice.
A voice he had never heard before.
"Nebrion, that's enough. You can see the boy wasn't doing anything wrong."
It came from the alley's entrance.
A girl stood there, her hair a blend of gold and chestnut. She wore a deep red armored dress, the shade of a ripe pomegranate.
And with nothing but her presence, the suffocating pressure in Fri's chest vanished—replaced by a mix of hope and confusion.
The mysterious girl seemed to be the companion of the bizarre tiger-like creature, Nebrion. With a faint smile, she offered Fri her hand to help him stand. His legs barely responded after the stressful ordeal he had just endured.
'Better not turn around… I really don't feel like looking at a corpse right now…'
"Are you okay? This little, lovable kitty didn't do anything bad while I wasn't looking, did he?" she asked with an amused tone. "My name's Effie, by the way. What's yours?"
Fri nearly smacked his forehead upon hearing the words "little" and "lovable." If there was anything Nebrion lacked, it was those two traits. But maybe, in Effie's eyes, things were different.
"Fri. I'm a traveler who just arrived in this city. Nice to meet you, and thanks for saving me from those muggers. I don't know what I would've done without your help."
In truth, he had already considered several options. He could have cornered and used the thinnest of the four attackers, Wembley—who seemed to be their leader—as a hostage. Or maybe he could have sucker-punched the closest one in a rather sensitive area and made a run for it in any direction.
Of course, all of these plans had crumbled the moment he laid eyes on the three-meter-tall monster that could tear him limb from limb at will. After that, coming up with an escape strategy hadn't been so easy—he admitted to himself with a self-deprecating smile.
"Well then, Fri, how about we get out of here?" Effie suggested. "I'll give you the address of the nearest security outpost so you can get some basic necessities. Just tell them you're with Effie, and they'll treat you like royalty."
As she said that last part, her eyes sparkled with pride, her cheeks slightly puffing up. It was clear she was someone with a strong reputation around here.