A wide grin spread across his face as he darted through the alleyways.
"Hehe. Take that, you grump!"
The young man was still riding the high of his "victory." Last night, that grouchy merchant had treated him poorly, even though he was clearly in the presence of a soon-to-be legend. So, he came up with a plan—a heroic lesson, in his eyes. He'd teach that bitter old man the value of kindness and respect, especially toward future heroes like himself.
In his mind, Paul got exactly what he deserved.
After all, wasn't it a hero's job to defeat villains?
Of course, to anyone watching him run off with a bag of stolen food slung over his shoulder, the roles might have looked a little reversed.
"This should be far enough…"
He stopped at the corner of a quiet alley, catching his breath. Confident he'd outrun any possible pursuers, he opened the bag to inspect his haul. Inside were pastries and neatly packed meal preps—enough to last him for a while.
His eyes welled up.
"For once... I won't have to starve."
"Oh? That's a pretty big catch."
Startled, the boy spun around and instinctively stepped back. "Where did you come from?!"
Standing behind him, arms relaxed and gaze fixed on the bag, was none other than the blacksmith.
"Are you planning to eat all that in one go? That's a lot of food, even for a kid. Though I guess kids do eat a lot to grow big and strong."
"I'm not a kid!" the boy snapped. "I'm already old enough to drink beer!"
The blacksmith gave a wry smile. "Is that so? Well, I apologize—you look really young for your age. How old are you?"
"Hmph. I'm fourteen," he said proudly, puffing out his chest.
"You just barely hit drinking age!"
The boy was clearly in a tight spot. With the blacksmith having seen his face, there was no easy way out. He had a feeling he'd be chased all over town before the day was done.
"Listen, old man—"
"Old?!" William clutched his chest dramatically, as if pierced by the word.
Ignoring the reaction, the boy continued, "How about I share some of this with you, and we pretend this never happened?"
The blacksmith crossed his arms, giving it a moment of thought. "Honestly, that'd be tempting... if the merchant hadn't already offered me double what I bought. Sorry, kid—you're out of luck."
"So you're siding with the enemy instead of the voice of the people..."
William raised an eyebrow. "What are you going on about?"
With a fist raised high, the boy proclaimed, "We must unite against shady men who feed on the poor! As the voice of the people, I have sworn to fight these villains so the needy can live better lives!"
William shook his head. "That's the complete opposite of what you're doing. Stop being a smartass."
If someone actually acted on those kinds of grandiose ideas, they'd only end up hurting the people they claimed to protect. The lower class already struggled to get by. And if a kid like this stirred up trouble, it could cost them what little support they had.
"No!" the boy insisted. "This is justice! I'm teaching that old man a lesson! It's my duty as a soon-to-be hero!"
The blacksmith chuckled. "'Hero,' huh? I don't think real heroes go around stealing from merchants."
"Heroes bring justice in many forms!" the boy declared. "This just happens to be the form of... thievery!"
William sighed. "That's a twisted way of thinking. Look, I'm already not feeling great today, and for some reason, I keep ending up in the middle of troublesome things. How about you just give me the food back, and I'll—"
"I refuse!"
Before William could finish his sentence, the boy took off again, the bag bouncing on his back as he vanished into the alley.
The blacksmith scratched his head, letting out a long sigh.
"He really does look like a common thief…"
He knew what he had to do, but that didn't make it any easier—not with this splitting headache.
"You better make good on your promise, Paul," he muttered, before breaking into a reluctant jog after the boy.
***
"This is not good! What do I do? What do I do?!"
The young man panicked as he raced through the alleys once again. He knew he couldn't run forever. Thinking on the spot had never been his strength, but he needed a way to shake the blacksmith off his trail.
"I guess there's no other choice… I'll have to leave the town. But what about finding that person?"
He'd come to the town of Aoba in search of someone. At first, he doubted how anyone so far from the capital could be helpful—but he trusted the one who'd pointed him here.
He had looked forward to the journey, hoping to have a traveler's adventure. So far, the only "adventure" he'd experienced was being chased through town by some man he didn't even know.
"For now, I just need to get out of here."
He ran through the town's public roads. Though he didn't want to be seen, it was unavoidable. Aoba had four gates, each heavily guarded and packed with travelers coming and going. But despite his worries, most of the crowd barely noticed him. His speed was fast enough that all they saw was a blur darting past.
Well, everyone except—
"I figured you'd come this way."
"?!"
William stood a few meters ahead, blocking the path to one of the gates. The boy was stunned—how had he gotten there first?
But there was no time to wonder.
"Then I'll just go this way!"
"Hey, just stop for a second—"
"I refuse to listen to a man who applauds evil!"
"…Maybe Paul was right. You really were dropped as a kid."
Just before reaching William, the young man swerved sharply into a narrow alley, scraping his arm against the brick wall. He winced but didn't stop. In fact, he sped up—faster than he'd ever gone before. His body struggled to keep up with the power of his blessing, but he pushed forward.
"Alright, time to use the terrain to my advantage! Let's see if you can keep up, mister!"
He darted through crowds, weaving between people with unpredictable zigzags. For a moment, he thought he'd finally lost the blacksmith...
Until he saw him again—somehow already waiting up ahead.
"What?! How's that possible?!"
Frustrated, the boy kicked it into high gear, sprinting at an incredible pace. His legs burned, his lungs ached, and still... William kept showing up. Blocking gate after gate. Always ahead.
He tried everything—tight turns, using crowds as cover, changing directions randomly. None of it worked.
Then, suddenly, he laughed.
"This is… actually kind of fun."
Despite everything, he was enjoying himself. The running, the dodging—it made him feel alive. Like he was inside one of the hero stories he used to read as a kid. A wave of nostalgia hit him, and for a moment, his chest tightened.
"That's right… I used to read those books…"
He shook his head. Now's not the time to reminisce.
"Alright… up we go!"
Dashing into a narrow alley, he launched himself off the walls and climbed up to the rooftops. The moment he reached the top, the golden glow of the setting sun washed over him. He landed softly and scanned the horizon.
"There it is. Another gate… That might be my way out."
He hadn't seen William for a minute either. Maybe this was his chance.
He turned to look back at the town. He was close—so close—to completing his mission. But even now, the idea of leaving stung.
It wasn't just about escaping anymore.
He couldn't go back home empty-handed. He couldn't give up. Becoming a hero wasn't just a dream—it was his purpose. But for now, hiding was the only option.
"Alright. I'll leave through the gate and come back later. Maybe with a disguise... Yeah. Maybe a wig. Although, wigs are kinda hard to find…"
He sprinted across the rooftops, one leap at a time, heading straight for the gate. Freedom was within reach.
"Woah—!"
Something yanked at his right foot.
His shoe had stuck to the roof—something had unfastened it down mid-run. At the speed he was moving, the sudden halt sent him flying forward. His foot slipped out of the shoe, and he lost balance.
The bag of food was flung in one direction. The boy flew in the other.
Eyes squeezed shut, he braced for impact—certain he was about to crash straight into the ground.
But instead, his fall was cushioned.
He bounced off the canvas awning of a nearby market stall, crashing into it with a loud thump, but breaking his fall just enough to keep him from serious harm.
"What the hell?!"
A startled merchant stood beside the wreckage of a nearby stand, having witnessed the entire scene unfold. His eyes were wide, staring at the unconscious young man sprawled atop the broken wood.
He rushed over. "Wait a minute… you're the one who stole my goods, aren't you?! Where are they?!"
"—They're right here."
The blacksmith approached the merchant holding a bag of stolen food in one hand. "Fell right into my hands. Who knew food could fall from the sky?"
"No one else but you, small brain," the merchant snapped, arms crossed and nostrils flaring. "Took you long enough. The food's probably stale by now!"
William gave a wry smile. "Well, the thief certainly didn't make it easy. He was fast."
During the chase, William had struggled to keep up. The young man was quick, but William knew the town like the back of his hand—he'd lived near Aoba for as long as he could remember and wasn't a stranger to its shortcuts.
"I figured he'd make a break for the gates," he said. "Thought I'd lost him for a moment… then the kid climbed a rooftop."
"Hmph. Kids and their reckless ideas. Is he dead?"
Both men turned toward the boy lying amidst the rubble. William crouched to inspect him.
"I don't think so," he murmured. "Still breathing."
The merchant let out a quiet sigh of relief, unnoticed by William. "Alright, well—time is money. Give me back my goods."
William moved to hand him the bag but stopped just short. "Not before you keep your end of the deal, sir."
The merchant clicked his tongue. "Grr… fine." He reached for another sack, this one filled with food. "Here. As promised."
William peered inside, then nodded in satisfaction. "Pleasure doing business with you."
As the merchant retrieved his recovered goods, he gave the unconscious boy a sidelong glance. "You know… sometimes I think you actually have a spine for this line of work. So, what are you gonna do about the kid?"
"Me?" William blinked.
"My house is full," the merchant said with a shrug. "And we can't just leave him here."
His tone shifted—softer now, almost concerned. William raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his face.
"What's this, Paul? Fatherly instincts kicking in? Who knew you had a soft spot for kids? Maybe I misjudged you last night."
Paul's face went red. "Enough with your jokes. I need to get back to my stand."
William sighed and turned his gaze back to the unconscious boy. Something about him caught his eye—something that stirred curiosity.
"Alright, alright. I'll take him in."
Paul's eyes widened. "You sure?"
William shrugged. "Didn't you say it was time I had a kid? Maybe now's the time. And hey—no diapers with this one."
Paul snorted. "Fair. But how're you going to carry both that giant bag of food and the kid all the way to your place?"
"Good point…"
William lived far outside the town, deep within a dangerous forest. Not the best journey, especially with a hangover and a double load.
He rubbed his chin. "I've got an idea."