'How blissful. Too bad... Things can't always remain like this.'
The hooded man smirked dangerously, placing his hand behind his back and sneakily stealing an apple from a street hawker.
~Crunch.
He bit into its juicy exterior.
Along the bustling streets, he walked, moving in zig-zag patterns, avoiding the running children, peasants with goods bought from the marketplace wrapped in their shirts and ankle-length gowns and skirts.
Some were drunk, while others seemed lost instead.
"Stop! Thief! Thief!"
Occasionally, there were cries from victims and many stall owners who had their fruits, vegetables, and goods snatched by the quick-handed street thieves.
Well, even the hooded man could be considered a thief since he stole the apple off a hawker's basket.
Sure enough. It wasn't stealing if one never got caught.
The victims could only blame themselves for being less cautious than he.
