The ring was gone. Completely. There was no way I was going to find it in this chaos.
"Hey," a familiar voice called from behind, cutting through the murmur of the busy street. "Are you still searching for that?"
I turned to see Aenn's daughter, though I still hadn't caught her name. She had two bows slung across her back and carried a longsword in both hands, shifting its weight as if it had been digging into her arms. Judging by her hurried steps, she was making a delivery somewhere.
"Yeah," I replied, rubbing the back of my neck. "Can't find it."
She frowned, glancing at the ground as if thinking it over. "You might want to check Dorlang's house."
"Dorlang?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Who's that?"
"A… devil," she said, shaking her head. "A dirty little thief. My mother raised him, but he was adopted by a family when he was eight."
I crossed my arms. "And you think he'd steal from the woman who took care of him?"
She let out a breath. "Who knows? Maybe? I don't want to believe it, but it wouldn't be the first time he's been accused of something like this. Either way, it's a good lead, no?"
I considered her words before nodding. "Where's his house?"
"Just around the corner." She tilted her head toward a street stretching west. "Go down that way and find the only one-story house. You can't miss it."
"Got it," I said. "Thanks. I'll go check it out."
"Hope you find it." She adjusted her grip on the swords before giving me a quick nod. "These things are heavy—I gotta run. See you."
"Yeah. See you."
I watched as she disappeared into the crowd, moving swiftly despite her burden. Once she was gone, I let out a sigh and reached into my pocket, pulling out my phone. A stupid hope, but I tapped on James' contact and let the call ring.
Nothing. No signal. Of course.
Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I switched it to ultra battery-saving mode. It was useless here, but a part of me still held onto it—like an anchor to the world I came from.
"Dorlang," I muttered as I began walking. "Please be the thief…"
As I pushed through the dense crowd, I overheard the whispers about the elf who had been slaughtered in the street earlier. The opinions were… mixed.
"The elf…" a man muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "I can't believe they killed him like that. We should imprison them instead…"
"Good riddance," a woman scoffed, her arms crossed. "I'm glad he's dead. The streets and my children are safer now."
"We should hang them instead of killing them," another man grumbled, rolling up the sleeves of his worn-out tunic.
"So inhumane…" a young woman whispered, her hands trembling as she clutched a small bundle of herbs.
"Gods take them," an older man growled. "Gods take the elves!"
"Son of a bitches!" someone whispered angrily, voice raw with grief. "They killed my cousin!"
Finally making it out of the crowd, I let out a slow breath and looked ahead. The street stretched forward before splitting into a 'T' at the end. And there, on the left side, stood the house I was looking for—a single-story shack that had seen better days.
The weathered wood was darkened with age, its surface marred by cracks. The door didn't look much better—splintered in places, with gaps wide enough to see inside if one tried. Two windows flanked the entrance, but both had been hastily barricaded, as if whoever lived there wanted to keep out more than just the wind.
Slowing my steps, I approached and raised a hand, knocking firmly. The sound was hollow, the door rattling slightly under my touch. I had the feeling that if I put enough force into it, I could break it down without much effort.
From inside, there was a shuffle of movement, then a groggy voice muttered, "Who is this… at this hour… ugh."
Footsteps approached, slow and heavy.
I straightened, preparing myself. Time to see if this Dorlang was really the thief.
The door creaked open, and a fat man greeted me. His greasy hair hung in lank strands, and his shirt was stained with what I could only guess was spilled food or drink. His bloodshot eyes—if this world had drugs, I'd bet he was no stranger to them.
"What do you want, kid?" he grunted, scratching his bulging belly with one hand.
"Hello," I greeted, my tone calm and boring as always. "May I interest you in a piece of advanced technology from my homeland?"
The man squinted, tilting his head in confusion. "Advanced what now?"
"It's a torch," I explained, pulling out my phone and turning on the flashlight. "This one doesn't need fire to burn. It works with… prayers."
He stepped back, eyes wide in disbelief. "Gods above... what is that?"
"May I come in?" I asked, gesturing toward the open door. "It'll be easier to explain inside."
Still staring at the light in awe, he quickly waved me in. "Gods... yes, yes, come on in. That thing is... magnificent!"
As I stepped inside, I scanned the room. It was just a mess; plates piled high, crumbs scattered across the floor. My gaze locked onto a boy sitting near the kitchen table. He looked rough—disheveled hair, sharp eyes, and an attitude that screamed trouble. He had the kind of look that instantly reminded me of the bullies from school. He couldn't have been older than thirteen, maybe fourteen at most. He had to be Dorlang.
I took a seat near the table, my eyes never leaving the boy. I placed the phone down, its light still illuminating the room.
"As you can see, it doesn't burn," I said calmly. "But you can still see in the darkness just as clearly."
The man, still mesmerised, sat beside me. "What's... what's this thing called?"
"Smartphone," I replied, sliding the phone slightly across the table. "I'm selling it for five gold."
He blinked, reaching a tentative hand toward the device. "Does the fire... ever run out?"
Before I could answer, the kid broke the silence with a snarl. "Who the hell are you?" His eyes narrowed, full of suspicion. "Father, why are you letting some random weirdo into the house?"
"Shut up, boy!" the man snapped, not even glancing at his son. "Can't you see the torch he's holding? It's... it's the future!"
Just then, a knock at the door interrupted our little show. The old man muttered under his breath, looking annoyed as he stood to answer it.
"Damn guards again," he grumbled. "They've been asking questions about elves. Probably searching the area again. I'll be back, wait here please, okay?"
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. "Yep, no problem."
As the man moved toward the door, I shifted my attention fully to the kid, who had crossed his arms and was glaring at me from the kitchen counter. He was trying to intimidate me, but I'd seen enough kids like him to know he was just a small-time bully trying to assert dominance.
I stood up slowly, taking a few steps toward him, closing the distance between us. Only a metre separated us now. Neither of us blinked as we locked eyes, the tension thick between us.
"I lied to your father," I said, my voice calm, yet cold.
The boy scoffed, pushing me hard enough to make me take a step back. "What the hell are you talking about?"
I regained my balance and straightened up, my eyes still locked on his. "This device? It's not just a torch. It helps me communicate with Rowe herself. The Goddess of Death."
His sneer faltered for a second, but he quickly recovered, spitting venom with every word. "Suck my dick, weirdo. Get out of here before I throw you out myself."
"You angered her," I continued, ignoring his insult. "You should be careful with your words. Rowe doesn't forgive easily."
While his face hardened, doubt flickered in his eyes. That was all I needed. I subtly opened the notepad app on my phone behind my back, typing out a few lines quickly.
"You bumped into Aenn," I said, my tone steady. "And you took her ring."
"The hells I did," he snapped, his voice rising. "Even if I did, it's none of your business, bastard. Now get out!"
"You did." I took a step forward, my voice unshaken. "Stop lying."
He lunged, shoving me harder this time. My back hit the wall with a thud. "What if I don't?" he growled. "What're you gonna do about it, huh?"
My expression remained neutral, unfazed. "You have a foul mouth. It's rude to speak that way in the presence of a goddess."
"What goddess?" He cocked an eyebrow, but his voice wavered. "Get out, you freak!"
I tapped the phone and activated the text-to-speech app, watching the screen flicker. Then, after I finished writing a sentence on it, a robotic woman's voice echoed through the room from my phone. "You! You have stolen what you should not have!"
"Gods above! What the hells is that?" The boy's bravado vanished in an instant. He looked around the room wildly, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. "Who's there? Is this some kind of trick?"
"You have stolen my ring," The voice declared, calm and still robotic. "The one I gifted to my subject. Return it, or face the consequences."
The boy's hands trembled as he fumbled for something in his pocket. "I... I didn't mean to—"
"She sent me here," I said, cutting him off. "Rowe herself pointed me in your direction. She's very angry."
Panic flared in his eyes as he yanked a ring from his pocket and slammed it onto the table. "I needed the gold, I swear! I... I had to take it."
The voice from the phone spoke again, this time abruptly cutting off. "Voice assistant trial has ended. Subscribe within the link to see your personal offers."
"What the...?" The boy's confusion was clear.
"She says..." I cleared my throat, quickly turning the phone off. "She wants you to be a good person from now on. Or the consequences will be... severe."
His eyes widened. "I swear! I swear I'll change! I'll never bully anyone again, I'll help everyone I see. I swear on the gods!"
"Good," I muttered, pocketing the ring. "I think we're done here."