"I do have one with me at the moment, but it has been used before once. Is that fine with you?" Orin asked as he pulled out soap from his pouch.
"It's fine. Thank you, Orin!" Hannah replied, "And sorry for troubling you and finishing up all your soaps," her gratitude evident as she handed Orin the pouch with the gold coins.
"What is this?" Orin asked with a puzzled look on his face, knowing very well what it would be.
"Inside the pouch, there are fifty gold coins. It's for the soap." Hannah explained.
Although Orin felt like acting to decline the offer to strengthen their bond even more and so that she would like him more. He felt it was almost unnecessary now, since he knew he would be dealing with the actual big shot.
Orin nodded and thanked Hannah. They both then talked about random stuff a little bit, then parted ways.
In an abandoned warehouse near the park where the kids played. Two shadowy figures lurked around in the dim light. They were the bodyguards and mercenaries hired by Hannah's father to capture the 'friend' of her and interrogate him/her.
"I didn't expect such an easy target. That kid is a slum rat," one sneered.
"Easy money," the other agreed. Their eyes shone with predatory gleam, and they soon started to follow Orin.
Orin had an ominous feeling of being followed by someone, but he couldn't point it out. It felt kind of scary because he was alone on an open road and the sun dipped below the horizon. He trusted his guts and soon started to sprint to the slum area.
Between the normal people and the slums, there was this open area with a bunch of abandoned warehouses. This area also acted as a divide between the slum and where normal people lived. Children come here to play a lot since the area was quite big and had a lot of open space.
As soon as he started to sprint, he heard a chuckle behind him. 'What the fuck..where did he come from?' Orin thought. He had somewhat expected this, but he hoped it would not go this way because, quite frankly, this was one of the harder routes. His choice of people was not so good after all.
"You are quite a smart fella. Running was a good choice, but it's too late, son," a voice called from behind—he was about fifty meters behind Orin. He was cladded in a whole black outfit, and his face was adorned with scars, which looked scary even from a distance.
Right after, another man with the same outfit appeared in front of him—surrounding him with no way to escape. They soon closed the gap and knocked him out.
"I think we should have followed the kid to his home." One mercenary suggested.
"We don't have any weapons with us except a single knife. Going to the slums with only this much is way too risky." The other mercenary nodded in agreement and then carried Orin to their employer.
In a spacious office, Orin lay unconscious on a couch, and while two figures observed him across the room, one sat behind a polished desk, his hands clasped on his chin—while another stood right beside him.
"David, go and wake the kid up." Phil instructed. The standing person, who seemed to be the assistant of Phil, gave a nod and started walking towards Orin. He sprinkled a bit of water and shook Orin, jolting him awake.
"Where am I?" Orin asked, disoriented. Nobody answered him. A few seconds later, Phil, who was sitting on his desk, spoke codly, "So you are my daughter's secret friend who gives her the thing you call'soap'."
"Hannah?" Orin asked, his voice calm and collected, as if he expected this to happen.
Before starting his plan, Orin had considered every possibility and consequence that he could think about, and this was one of them. So he was well prepared and looked undeterred, contrary to their expectations. They didn't expect him to act so calm in the presence of two strangers who had basically kidnapped him.
"Yes, she is my second daughter," Phil replied, his eyes cold and sharp. "WWhere did you get that thing from and who hired you? How do you know my daughter?"
Although Orin looked calm and composed on the outside, and even though he had expected this to happen, he still felt very nervous and scared inside, because if messed up, his life was as good as gone.
"My master made that soap, and nobody hired me. I gave it to Hannah because she is a very good friend of mine." Orin explained confidently.
"Your master?" Phil asked as he narrowed his eyes, not quite buying it. "Who is your master?"
Orin smirked and confidently replied, "He knows magic, and he made it."
Phil and his assistant David's exchanged glances, and their faces scrunched a bit. Although they didn't really believe him, they still had to take this matter seriously. After all, magic for them was as mysterious as to everyone from the town and beyond. Nobody except the temple mages could do magic, and everyone knew how powerful these mages were.
Once in the past, there was an evil psychotic magician who ran rampant in Leeside, their town. He had inhumane strength and could seemingly produce lightning out of nowhere. He had gone on a killing spree, killing hundreds of people and creating mass fear among the citizens; he was finally put to his end by a few mages from the temple.
This happened just a few decades ago, and the trauma still lingered on the people. Phil was one of the victims of this incident. He had lost his father and a brother because of this, and even though he had recovered from the loss, the trauma still haunted him now and then.
Where did the mage come from? Who was the mage? Nobody knew, but they knew one thing that mages were not to be trifled with.