Oliver, a young master, stood fuming at the remains of the Malevolent Bear. His eyes blazed with fury, his hands clenched into fists. "Where is she?" he barked at his bodyguard, the frustration in his voice unmistakable.
The bodyguard, a burly man with a scar across his cheek, shifted nervously. "We haven't found any signs of her, Young Master," he said, his voice low and cautious. "We've searched the area, but it's like she vanished."
Oliver's face turned red with rage. "She has my money," he growled, his voice barely controlled. "I tasked her to be the bait, and she used it as a chance to steal from me."
He kicked a piece of the Bear's carcass aside, his anger boiling over. "That bitch stole my money," he rumbled, his voice shaking with fury. "And now I'm stuck with only a little cash on hand."
He stormed back to the carriage, just a few meters away. "Return to the Mining City," he snapped at the driver, thoughts rolling kinds of punishment. "She must have gone home with my money. Fucking thief."
As the carriage jolted into motion, Oliver's thoughts darkened. He would find her, and when he did, she would pay dearly for her betrayal.
However, as soon as he arrived at Mining City and strolled around to find a place to sell his artifact for better money, he realized he had lost it as well. His heart sank, and then, a burning rage took over. He remembered a kid bumping into him earlier. At the time, he had kicked the kid and watched him run away, not realizing that the artifact ring on his finger had been stolen in the process.
"Do all people from Mining City thieves?" he shouted in rage, his voice echoing through the crowded streets. His outburst drew the attention of several passersby, their expressions turning from curiosity to offense. He could see the anger in their eyes, but he didn't care. As a noble, the opinions of commoners were beneath him.
Ignoring the hostile glares, Oliver stormed into an exclusive inn, the luxurious surroundings doing little to soothe his seething anger. He slammed his fist on the counter, demanding the best room available. Once he was settled, he summoned his men, his voice cold and commanding.
"Continue the search for that servant," he ordered, his eyes still burning in intensity. "And find that little thief who stole my artifact. I want them both brought to me. Now."
His men nodded and left immediately to carry out his orders, their expressions were stern but anxious. As Oliver paced the room, his mind raced with thoughts of retribution. He would make sure both the servant and the thief paid dearly for crossing him. No one stole from Oliver and got away with it.
At the same time, a kid was running for his life, his face painted with fear and excitement. In his hand, he clutched a gleaming ring he had just snatched. He wasn't entirely sure how valuable it was, but it looked expensive, and that was an assurance of its hectic price.
"I wonder how much I could get from selling this ring. It looks expensive," he mused aloud, the torn jacket flapping by his side and partially obscuring his vision.
When he finally realized no one was following him, he slowed down, allowing his racing heart to catch up. His mind flooded with images of how he would spend the money. He envisioned buying a feast for himself and his sister, paying off their rent, and maybe even getting a few small luxuries they had long been denied.
He and his sister had been struggling ever since their parents passed away, leaving them to fend for themselves. He had always managed to scrape together enough to keep them fed, but this ring represented a potential bonus, a chance to change their circumstances.
Just as he was about to enter a jewelry shop, he felt a prickling at the back of his neck, a sense of being watched. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a tall man standing behind him, eyes glinting with malice. The man grinned before reaching his shoulders.
Panic surged through him. He bolted, but the man was quick on his heels. The boy's jacket caught on something, and he wriggled out of it, leaving it behind as he sprinted away.
He hissed in frustration, realizing he had let his guard down too soon. His legs pumped harder, breath coming in ragged gasps, but the man was relentless. The streets blurred as he ran, his mind a jumble of thoughts—he couldn't get caught, he had to protect his sister, he needed to get away.
The man's presence loomed closer. The boy's desperation fueled his dash, the stolen ring would provide for his sister against all odds.
Despite his frantic efforts, the kid's escape fell short. People passed by, unwilling to intervene. He was caught, his heart sinking as rough hands seized him, dragging him to a dark carriage, away from his world.
Meanwhile, from a distance, his sister witnessed the scene unfold. Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched her brother being thrown into a nearby carriage. She wanted to chase after him, to reach out and bring him back to her side, but the transport was already speeding away, carrying him further from her grasp.
A single tear traced its way down her cheek as the reality of their situation sank in. Her voice trembled, barely audible above the bustling street.
"You're going to leave me too, Lando?"
Her words hung in the air, a sorrowful plea that echoed the ache in her heart. She stood there, alone, watching the distant carriage disappear from sight, taking with it her only family and leaving her to face an uncertain future without him.
Meanwhile, Oliver's men returned, their expressions tense and uneasy as they reported their failure to find the kid. As soon as the words reached Oliver's ears, his anger erupted like a volcano, his face contorted with rage and disbelief.
"You are all useless!" he bellowed, his voice echoing with fury through the halls of his room. The men flinched at his words, knowing the consequences of disappointing their young master.
Oliver paced back and forth, his fists clenched tightly at his sides as he struggled to contain the storm of emotions raging within him. The kid had slipped through their fingers, along with the artifact that held such promise of wealth and power. It was an unforgivable failure in his eyes, a stain on his pride and reputation.
"Find him!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Search every corner of this city if you have to. I want that kid and my artifact back before sunrise, or heads will roll!"
His men nodded, fear and urgency painted on their faces as they hurried to obey his command, knowing full well the consequences of returning empty-handed.