The middle-aged man was his former employer, from whom he had been running after witnessing something he shouldn't have.
"Tsk. It seems the flies are swarming into the capital from just anywhere."
The boy froze in front of him, his whole body trembling as he recalled the incident, how this man had murdered someone with a bottle of liquor without batting an eye.
The nobleman's bodyguard grabbed the boy by the collar with his left hand, his grip tight as if he wanted to kill the boy right then but couldn't because of the crowd.
"Who are you, huh?! What do you think you're doing, you filthy thing?!"
The bodyguard reached into his pants pocket, and the boy's eyes caught a glint of something sharp, as if he were about to pull out a hidden weapon.
But before he could take any action, a voice came:
"You rascal! What do you think you're doing?!"
It was Arthur Ashbourne. As soon as the bodyguard saw him, he withdrew his hand from the pocket and let go of the boy.
"Where did you run to, you brat?!"
Arthur stood over the boy, his eyes fixed on his body. He could see the tremor in the boy's body and stepped in front of him.
"My apologies. It seems my servant made a mistake while I was occupied with other matters. It's his first time in the capital, and therefore, he isn't yet familiar with the ways of the city. As such, I'd appreciate it if you'd be generous enough to show mercy to the young boy."
Arthur didn't even give the nobleman a chance to respond and spoke up again.
"What are you still doing on the floor?! Get up!"
He grabbed the boy by the back of his neck collar and made him stand up.
"Apologize, right now!"
The boy looked at Arthur, who gestured for him to do as he said, and eventually, he did, having not any other option.
"I-I apologize, s-sir."
The man scanned Arthur from head to toe, the one who had dared to interrupt in the middle and hadn't even given him the chance to speak.
He could sense a certain air around him that could only come from someone of higher status.
"Who are you, young man?"
The man's hand tightened around his black-colored cane.
"Ah. My apologies for the late introduction. The name's Arthur Ashbourne."
The man's gaze flinched, then after a brief silence, he cleared his throat.
"Ahem. I see. My name is Marcus Browne."
'Wait... Marcus Browne? But... didn't he belong to the Crown Prince's faction? What is he doing here?'
Arthur controlled his expression as he asked the Viscount.
"Ah, Viscount Browne. What brings you to the capital?"
The Viscount gave the answer briefly.
"I have an appointment with the Crown Prince."
'I guess he still hasn't joined the faction.'
The Viscount placed both his hands on top of the cane and spoke in a mocking tone:
"But I heard a funeral is going to take place at the Ashbournes. As such, it certainly brings me to ask the question: why are you still loitering around the platform, the young acting head of House Ashbourne?"
Arthur felt the anger simmer inside him but replied as calmly as he could.
"It seems the news has already reached the countryside."
The Viscount was furious that his territory was being compared to a mere countryside.
However, before he could respond, a young man reached him and said:
"Father, we should leave for the appointment, or else we will be late."
He seemed a few years younger than Arthur, though the arrogance was clearly visible in his gaze.
"Hm."
The Viscount turned and left without a second word.
Then, his son approached Arthur.
"Let's continue this conversation some other time."
"Sure."
'If we ever meet again, that is.'
Soon after, they were out of reach. Then, Arthur turned to see the boy, whose whole body was still trembling slightly, his hands clinging to the cap he held.
"Hmm... Let's go talk somewhere quiet."
Arthur turned around and walked a few steps further but then stopped, glancing backward at the boy.
"What are you doing standing still? Follow me!"
The boy was still in shock after meeting the one man he didn't want to run into ever again.
"Yes."
Then, the boy stepped behind him as Arthur walked in the front. Arthur still had doubts that the boy might run away again, but he quietly followed without questioning.
'It seems he is quite frightened to run again.'
They soon reached the carriage. The footman stood beside it and greeted Arthur as soon as their eyes met.
"Greetings, young master."
"Alright. But how did you get here, Alfred?"
Alfred stood behind the boy silently.
"Through the train, young master."
'Well... it was quite an absurd question to ask.'
After all, he was trained by none other than Arthur's father, Frederick Ashbourne, who even trained his own son with ruthlessness, so it's no wonder how he would have trained Alfred. He must've engraved it into his mind to always follow Arthur, no matter what. It was his problem to figure it out.
"Anyway, let's head to the manor."
"Yes, young master."
Arthur stepped inside the carriage, placing the briefcase on the seat as he sat. His deep gaze then watched the boy as he contemplated whether to get in or not.
"What? Aren't you going to get in? There's no going back, boy."
"Y-yes, sir!"
The boy stepped inside the carriage, sitting opposite Arthur, while Alfred sat at the front with the footman.
And just like that, the wheels rolled, and the carriage moved forward.
Arthur looked at the boy with his sharp eyes as he observed him.
Arthur's gaze fell upon the worn-out shoes the boy wore, and his clothes didn't seem to be in good condition either. He had rough hands and quite a thin body for someone who seemed to be about ten years old.
After a brief silence, Arthur spoke up.
"What is your name?"
"It's Archie, sir."
Arthur placed his left leg over his right, his posture authoritative as he spoke again:
"Hmm... First, hand me what you stole earlier."
The boy hesitated but then handed it over. Arthur then checked if it was the same envelope that contained the letter which he had received from an unknown person, probably his father, but other than his handwriting, he could not be sure who exactly had sent it.
"Now, let me tell you this. I'm not some generous noble, Archie. And certainly not like the one you encountered a while ago."
Arthur placed both his hands, one over the other, on top of his knees. His intense turquoise gaze fell upon the boy.
"So I'll give you just one chance. Speak. Tell me everything that you know. Starting with who told you to steal the envelope, where you met them and who they were, if you know. But surely they wouldn't have shown themselves to you."
The boy's hesitation was clearly shown as he scratched the index finger of his left hand with the thumb of his right hand, which clearly indicated that it was probably a habit.
"I... I don't know what you're talking about, sir."
"Of course, you do."
Arthur bent his waist a little in an attempt to grab the boy's attention.
"Listen, boy. I don't have much time, nor do you. If you don't tell me anything of importance until the carriage stops, I will punish you."
Arthur took out a pocket watch from his coat and looked at its ticking for a moment before he spoke:
"And according to this watch, it will take about 10–15 minutes. That's all the time you have."
The boy started to scratch his finger more aggressively, and thus, Arthur's hand reached forward, stopping the boy's train of thought.
"Who was that person?"
The boy replied, startled.
"I don't know their name, I swear! That person just gave me a bag of coins and pointed you out from afar. Said I needed to swipe an envelope from your pocket and bring it to the fighting arena."
Arthur let go of the boy's hand.
"Tell me if you noticed anything different about their appearance or anything that set them apart from the many other people."
The boy looked behind Arthur as if he could almost see the person. It seemed like that boy was recalling his memory.
"No... nothing. I couldn't clearly see their face, and as far as I'm aware, there wasn't anything that set them apart... Ah, right!"
Arthur focused instantly on the boy as he waited for him to speak further.
"The coin pouch they gave me had a mark of some kind but... I can't think what it was."
The boy scratched the back of his head.
"Where is that pouch at the moment?"
"Ah. I can bring you that pouch, but on one condition: if you don't harm me and let me go."
Before Arthur could speak, the carriage stopped.
'It seems we've arrived but...'
Arthur looked at the boy with a piercing gaze.
"Do you think you're in a position to bargain?"
"I..."
Arthur knocked on the door, and Alfred opened the carriage door.
"Go and bring me that pouch, along with your siblings. I'm sure you know this as well, but... that person will attack you tonight and kill you along with your siblings. And whether you want to or not, you won't be able to save them."
The boy had a confused look as he said:
"How... how did you know about my siblings?"
Arthur didn't reply and just grinned as he stepped down from the carriage and stood still while the chilly wind enveloped him.
'How did I know...? How could I not?'
When the boy was handing over the envelope, Arthur saw the crumpled photograph tucked deep into the pocket of his pants.
The face of a young child, probably his younger sister, was clearly visible in the photograph.
The boy was probably the only breadwinner of his family and was merely trying to protect them while also keeping them hidden from the outside world.