As was becoming quite obvious to me, there were a lot of qualifying statements to be made; I was pretty uncertain. The only thing I knew for sure was that I would judge things on a case-by-case basis and figure out where to go from there.
However, in general, I was going to rely on what I could do with what I had on me. Which was— as of right now— only a dagger.
And some gold coins. Which was not very helpful, considering I had to be frugal in my spending.
Until I found a job. And I had an incredibly limited scope of jobs I could take up.
As the milliner had briefly mentioned, regular kids my age would be doing apprenticeships in this part of the world. That meant settling down and starting a new life, pretending I was not wanted by both the Holy Xan Empire and the Dark Crusaders for various different reasons.
As of right now, I was considering many different options: living a life of isolation (which I did not want); becoming a Hunter or a Mercenary; or finding my way back to Earth. The last option was quite clearly impossible, but I was holding out meeting with that false god again, and maybe getting him to do something like a reverse reincarnation to send me back. I hate this world after all—
I felt someone bump into me as I was passing through a crowd.
I did not hesitate. I whirled around and reached for my coin pouch. As expected, it was not there.
I made eye contact with a kid dressed in ragged clothes. Neither of us paused. Both of us immediately jumped into action.
"Stop! Thief!"
I yelled out, chasing after the boy. He dashed past a group of adults, who simply gave us an odd look.
"We’re not playing—"
I cut myself off; there was no time to explain anything. If they were not going to help me because they thought this was a game, then fine. But I was not going to lose half my gold to some thief. Especially when I knew the whole drill of bumping into someone and taking their stuff (from watching enough movies back when I was still on Earth).
The kid ducked into an alleyway, and I followed suit. I drew my dagger as I did, careful of a possible ambush; just because he looked like he was alone, did not mean that he was.
I closed the distance between myself and the boy. We were about the same size, but I was clearly faster. He was about to turn a corner when I reached out and grabbed him.
He could not escape the same way he would with an adult.
So, he tried to shake me off. Tried to pry off my grip. But I held strong. Far stronger than he expected.
"Let me go—"
He raised his other hand, pulling back for a punch. But I twisted the arm I was holding, circling around his back.
The boy yelped, continuing his struggle.
"Give it back," I said, from his behind.
"What are you doing?! I haven’t done—"
He froze as he saw the flash of metal. The cold blade's edge was not pressed against his skin; the dagger was sharp, and I did not want to hurt him without reason.
Instead, I held it half an inch off his neck. Far enough that he would not get cut unless he made any sudden movements. Which was the point— I did not want him to somehow escape.
"Give it back," I demanded with finality in my voice.
I edged the blade even closer to him. I was precise in my movement; I had not been neglecting training with my dagger, since unlike magic it would not have gotten me in trouble. Plus, becoming physically stronger made me more motivated to practice what Karna taught me. So I trusted myself not to accidentally kill the boy.
He inhaled sharply. "But I..." he started, before eyeing the dagger for a moment. The threat was apparently very convincing, since he gave up with a sigh. "It’s in my left pocket— please, just don’t hurt me!"
"I won’t, as long as you don’t move."
I lowered my weapon, and reached down. My grip did not loosen for a second. I found my coin pouch after a moment, but I still did not let go.
"And everything’s in here?" I asked, while counting out my coins.
"Yes," he said quickly. "I didn’t have time to take anything! It’s all in there!"
He was telling the truth; I only brought half of my gold with me. And it was all in there. So I let go of the boy’s wrist, letting him fall to the ground.
He began rubbing his hand. "O-ouch… What is wrong with you?!"
I narrowed my eyes. "What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you? You tried to steal from another child! At least try and steal from an adult or something."
"I had no other choice!" he protested. "And I saw you. When you first arrived. You were spending your money left and right. I thought you were rich— so I…" he trailed off.
"So you targeted me," I finished his sentence for him. I folded my arms, and glared at him. "That does not change the fact that I’m younger than you, you know."
I was guessing. He was about my height, but from his frame— how thin he was— I assumed he was not nourished well enough to grow properly. I was malnourished for a while as a slave, but I had been eating plenty since then.
"How can someone younger than me be that strong," he muttered under his breath. Then he got up slowly, still grasping his sore arm. "Look, I’m sorry, ok? But I— we needed the money."
"And am I
