The blond-haired girl shot off like an arrow, her feet barely seeming to touch the packed dirt of the main street. Asher, driven by a jolt of adrenaline, ran after her with all his might. He was a normal guy, with a more-than-decent physical condition for his home world, but here, now, every stride Felt took gained her meters on him.
"Wait, damn it!" he shouted, but his voice was lost amid the sound of his own footsteps and the pounding of his heart in his ears.
They turned a corner sharply, and for a moment, Asher thought he was closing the distance. But then, Felt stopped dead. She turned her head, flashed him a mocking smile, and, with an impossible leap, jumped toward the facade of a wooden house. Her foot rested on a ledge as if it were just another step, and with a second, even higher jump, she reached the edge of the roof.
Asher stood planted, jaw agape, watching as her slender figure stood silhouetted against the orange evening sky. Without even looking back, Felt began running across the rooftops as if they were a sidewalk, jumping between the gaps separating one house from another with a gravity-defying agility. In a matter of seconds, she had become a tiny silhouette that melted into the gloom of the slums.
He, for his part, had barely managed to cover a short distance. The explosive effort quickly took its toll.
"Ah… hah…" he panted, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. His body was at its limit from the run, soaked in sweat and profoundly fatigued.
"It's no use, I lost her," he said to himself, taking another gulp of air before falling back onto the ground, feeling the impact reverberate through his already sore spine.
"Shit. My phone… What was I thinking? Why the hell did I come to this rotten district?" he questioned himself. It made no sense to visit a district that, logically, was the most dangerous place in the capital, and yet he had gone straight there like an idiot.
He slowly composed himself, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his already dirty military jacket before getting up with a groan. The sky had turned a deep orange, and a cold breeze swept over his sweaty body, causing a shiver that made him shudder.
He looked at the horizon: not a trace of the thief. She was as elusive as a rat, but her mocking smile and youthful body had been seared into his memory. She was... pretty cute, for a vermin.
He immediately shook his head in annoyance. Seriously, Asher? Is this the time for that? You just saw a guy die, and the only thing you can think of is that your thief is cute?
The silence around him was as heavy as the dust floating in the air. Through the holes in the ruined houses, he caught glimpses of furtive movements: huddled families, children watching him with curiosity from the darkness, adults with eyes that had given up on everything. The scene was desolate.
Maybe someone will give me information about her. If that girl steals from outsiders, maybe she isn't very well-liked… Although it's unlikely they'd betray one of their own. But I have nothing to lose by trying. It's my only lead.
With a sigh that came from the depths of his exhaustion, he began to walk without a clear direction.
What bad luck. Not even in a damn isekai can I escape getting robbed. This day is absolute shit. And now, besides the phone, I have to find a place to sleep before nightfall or I'll end up sleeping on the street or dying like that idiot in the tracksuit.
The place was a labyrinth of misery. Dusty, identical streets stretched out before his eyes, flanked by ruins that had once been homes. The people, with vacant or distrustful stares, moved out of his way as if he were a plague. After walking in circles, he found himself facing a dead end, and frustration began to boil in his blood.
He crossed a small wooden bridge that creaked like an old man's bones. On the other side, he leaned against the gnarled trunk of a tree.
"This is crap," he sighed, closing his eyes tightly.
Great. Now I'm lost in the shady district of a medieval fantasy. My best plan is to ask the rats for directions.
However, his stubbornness, the same stubbornness that had kept him in a shitty job for months, refused to give in.
One more question. Just one. And if it doesn't work, I'm getting out of this dump.
"I'm too stubborn," he muttered to himself, just as a man with a dirty look and clothes that seemed to have been buried and unearthed passed by him.
Asher looked at him. He didn't seem friendlier than the others, but he also didn't have a knife in his hand. That was something.
"Hey, friend!" he called out with a false cordiality that tasted like metal.
"Do you know where a guy can trade things… 'recently acquired' things? A friend told me there was a place around here, but I have the sense of direction of a rock.[1]"
The man stopped and looked at him with narrowed, rheumy eyes. He scanned him up and down.
"'Acquired' things, you say? Do you want to buy something from Felt?" the man asked, in a tone that implied it was a stupid question. "Over there, to the east, is old Rom's loot house. That's where the girl takes her… acquisitions." He paused briefly. "Anyway, have a good life." And with that, the man turned and continued on his way, shuffling his feet.
Asher stood there, watching the man's back as he walked away.
Seriously? That's it? Wow. I was expecting a little more drama. A riddle, a password, something. This was almost disappointingly easy.
A cynical half-smile formed on his lips. Without wasting any more time, he adjusted his jacket and began walking east.
--[Short Time Skip]--
Following the man's directions, Asher ventured east into the district. It wasn't long before he found something that caught his eye: a small wooden shed, huddled against a rise in the terrain. Several tattered rags and frayed blankets covered the structure, and a thick cloth served as a door.
What a luxurious den. It fits the vermin's personality, he thought, approaching cautiously.
He decided to take a look before announcing his presence. He pulled back the cloth and slipped inside. The interior was austere: a large, worn-out couch covered with dirty sheets, and a side counter with worthless junk.
"Hey, what are you doing breaking into someone's house?"
The voice, feminine and laced with irritation, made him spin on his heels. There she was, the elusive thief, with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.
Asher regained his composure as quickly as he could, adopting a tone of false normalcy. "I was just checking if you'd been kind enough to leave what you stole from me in here. An express recovery service, you could say."
"Too bad. You won't find anything of value here, so get lost!" Felt snapped. Her hand moved like lightning, and a knife sliced through the air between them, stopping and pointing directly at his chest.
Asher felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck. "Whoa, whoa, easy. No need to get physical. We can negotiate like two civilized peo—"
He didn't finish the sentence. A silver slash whistled toward his neck. By pure instinct, Asher threw his head back, feeling the blade pass millimeters from his skin.
"What the hell are you doing?!" he exclaimed, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.
"Don't argue!" she retorted, advancing with a series of rapid, wide slashes that forced Asher to stumble backward.
"You're crazy! We don't have to do this!" he gasped, narrowly dodging a slash aimed at his torso. The next lunge was for his face. Asher fell backward to the ground, and the knife plunged with a thunk into the wooden pillar right above his head.
"You better be gone before nightfall," Felt said, planting her boot next to Asher's face in a dominant stance.
"Are you even listening to me?!" he protested, his back pressed against the cold dirt.
Taking advantage of the blade being stuck in the wood, Asher rolled forward, passing between Felt's legs. She freed the knife and lunged at him, who was still on the ground. Asher twisted and turned grotesquely, dodging the stabs that plunged into the dirt around him.
This girl is completely messed up! he thought, in a crescendo of panic. On his hands and knees, he reached a nearby side table and kicked it on its side, creating a makeshift barrier between them. Felt responded with a furious slash that split the table in two, but the moment of distraction was enough for Asher to get to his feet, grab one of the table halves, and use it as a clumsy shield to block the next blows.
"Don't you ever give up?!" she shouted, incredibly frustrated, launching increasingly fast cuts. "Didn't I tell you to leave?!"
"Listen to me!" Asher tried to exclaim, but his defense broke under a vertical slash. Both pushed, wrestling with the broken wood between them. In a desperate move, Asher spun to the right to dodge a lunge to his stomach, but ended up with his back against the shed. Felt didn't let up. She cornered him until his heel tripped on a stone, and Asher fell backward onto the couch.
With a scream of rage, Felt did not stab Asher, but instead unleashed her fury on the main pillar of the shed. The wood creaked and gave way. With a dull crash, the structure came down.
"W-WAIT, AHHH!"
To Asher's luck, a combination of the couch and the door frame deflected the debris, forming a bubble of living space. Panting heavily, lying on what was Felt's bed, he tried to get up. But a foot was planted firmly on his chest, immobilizing him. Felt's knife gleamed just inches from his eyes, and Asher couldn't help but swallow with a knot of terror in his throat.
Driven by a final, desperate burst of courage, Asher grabbed her ankle and pulled hard. Felt, completely caught off guard by the move, lost her balance and fell sideways onto the couch. In that same instant, Asher's other hand lunged for the wrist holding the knife, pinning her against the sheets.
"Let me go!" she shrieked, writhing. She freed a knee and slammed it hard into Asher's chest, forcing the air out of his lungs with a guttural sound.
"Please… listen to me, Felt!" he gasped, seeing stars from the impact, but maintaining his grip with a strength he didn't even know he had.
The mention of her name had an instant effect. Felt's fierce aggression vanished, replaced by a sudden, cautious stillness. Her eyes, filled with rage a second ago, now scrutinized him with deep suspicion.
"How… how do you know my name?" she asked, her voice much lower and more measured.
Asher was still panting, his vision clouded by the sweat running down his forehead. His body, almost by instinct, kept the girl pinned, with her arms above her head.
"I said… we can… negotiate," he exhaled, trying to catch his breath and composure.
"Negotiate? If you wanted something, you should have said so earlier! Did you want me to steal something for you?" she replied, with a hint of exasperation in her voice.
"You didn't let me finish, you little brat! You almost killed me!" Asher replied, his breathing beginning to return to normal. It was then that his gaze dropped, and he became fully aware of their position. His body was on top of hers. His eyes wandered, almost involuntarily, over Felt's small but shapely figure: her small chest rising with each labored breath, the soft curves of her waist opening up to hips more generous than her height suggested, down to her leggings, where the tight fabric outlined the shape of her small, plump pussy. An intense heat rose up his neck until his face was tinged with a deep blush.
F-fuck... she's c-cute. wanna fuck her so baaad..
The thought struck him like lightning, he felt an involuntary response in his pants, a physical reaction to her proximity and the sudden awareness of her attractiveness.
"You're... so cute..." he exhaled the words directly into her face, before his brain could filter them. It was a raw, honest whisper that laid bare his confusion.
Felt's expression was a whirlwind. She went from caution to surprise, from surprise to a blush of embarrassment, from embarrassment to a flash of anger, and from anger back to even greater surprise, all in the span of a second.
"W-whaaaat?" she exclaimed, staring him straight in the eye with a mixture of emotions she couldn't even identify herself. Her cheeks flushed with a blush that betrayed embarrassment... and something else, something she flatly refused to admit. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment... and something else, something she flatly refused to admit.
"I-I said we can negotiate! We can barter!" Asher quickly corrected himself, trying to divert attention from his monumental blunder.
"Barter..." she repeated, as if savoring the word. After a moment of tense silence, she let out a resigned sigh. "All right. If you have something to offer, I'll listen."
"How greedy," Asher replied, letting out a short, nervous laugh.
"Well, can you get off me? You've already soaked me with your sweat, and it looks like we're going to have sex. Unfortunately for you, my body is not for sale," she replied with a cynicism that snapped Asher out of his reverie, making him aware of how intimate and compromising his position was. He immediately pulled away from her.
Asher cleared his throat, trying to regain his dignity. "W-well, as I was saying… I have this to offer in exchange for what you stole from me." He pulled the dead guy's phone from his pocket. "It's an artifact that… that can capture time itself and save memories forever!" he improvised theatrically. Before she could protest, he raised the device and took a picture of her. The flash lit up their faces for an instant.
"H-hey!" Felt complained, blinking from the blinding light.
Asher showed her the screen, which displayed his own face captured in an expression of absolute confusion. "This is the artifact I'm offering you. What do you think?" he added with a mischievous smile, regaining some of his confidence.
"You don't seem to be lying…" Felt admitted, placing a hand on her chin in a thoughtful gesture. She observed the photo closely, a mix of impression and bewilderment in her eyes. "Is that supposed to be me? I'm prettier in person," she added with wounded pride.
"You look good like that without makeup, don't complain," Asher teased.
"Well, it's weird. I admit it," Felt conceded. "But I'm not foolish enough to make a trade with just anyone without asking questions."
"That's understandable," he nodded.
"There's a bazaar on the edge of the neighborhood, down this path," Felt said, gesturing with her head. "The fairest thing would be for the old coot to appraise the value for us."
Asher let out a sigh, a mix of relief and anticipation. Then he looked directly at her. "Okay. Let's go then."
[1] Or Zoro