The Identity of the Pickpocket Tiger
"You wore a skirt! Don't climb the roof!! Everything's showing!!"
Sigh, she can't hear me. Seria stepped on the roadside tree and leaped, landing lightly on another building's roof.
"Stop right there!!!"
Seria started dashing across the rooftops, leaping from one to the next. Luckily, she was wearing shorts underneath. The hem of her fluttering sky-blue dress teased glimpses of white fabric below, hanging dangerously close to exposure.
"Argh, seriously!"
I pressed my forehead and drew up mana. 'Haste!'
I cast acceleration magic on my legs and bolted off with all my might. Up above, Seria flew across the roofs; down below, I kicked up dust in a bizarre, outlandish chase.
"Young master! I'll catch that bastard and separate his bones from his flesh!"
Seria's ferocious shout echoed from the rooftop.
"Hey! Fix your skirt first! The townsfolk can all see!"
"The hairpin comes first! It's a gift more precious than my life!"
"No, I'll buy you another one! Just calm down, please!"
Despite my pleas, Seria's speed only increased. But surprisingly, the black-cloaked thief was no pushover. His speed was naturally inferior to Seria's, yet he seemed to know the town's layout like the back of his hand, deftly weaving through narrow alleys and obstacles to carve out escape routes.
"That guy's footwork isn't amateur,"
He'd kick off walls to change direction or use clotheslines for rebounds—moves straight out of back-alley brawls.
"I said stop!!"
Seria leaped down from the roof to block the pickpocket's path, but he curled up like a cat and slipped right between her legs, vanishing into a narrow back alley like a bullet.
"Ugh, is he a rat?!"
Seria gnashed her teeth and resumed the chase.
"Seria! Herd him into a corner! I'll cut off his retreat!"
I shouted, panting hard. No matter how superior Seria's physical prowess, in these tangled alleys, the one who knew the terrain had the edge. Time to use some brains, like a proper intellectual mage.
"Got it, young master! I'll drive him into that dead-end alley!"
Seria caught on and blocked the thief's right escape route, forcing him toward the outskirts—into the dead-end lined with dilapidated warehouses that I was herding him into.
"Good, he's hooked."
I smirked and focused mana into my fingers. A narrow alley with no escape. Time to catch the cornered rat.
—
"Huff... huff..."
The black-cloaked pickpocket panted raggedly as he ducked into the narrow back alley. Moss-covered brick walls towered on both sides, and ahead loomed a dead end blocked by rundown warehouses.
"Got you!"
Seria, who'd been soaring across rooftops, leaped down to seal the alley entrance.
"Hand over the hairpin my lord gifted me—now!"
She advanced step by step, radiating intimidation. But the thief wasn't one to buckle easily. Even cornered, he showed no panic, crouching low as he scanned for an out.
"Seria! Be careful! He's no ordinary thug!"
I stumbled up behind her, gasping.
"Don't worry, young master. A punk like this..."
Seria glanced around and snatched a thick wooden branch from the alley corner. She'd left her wooden sword behind—a moment of regret—but to her, this was a fine weapon.
"Seria! Pressure him from above!"
"Right!"
At my command, she kicked off the brick wall and shot upward. As the thief flinched and looked up, I thrust both hands toward the ground.
'Ice Field!'
Whoosh! Frigid air burst from my fingertips, flash-freezing the alley floor in an instant. The slick ice sheet sent the leaping thief's feet skidding out from under him.
"Kuh!"
Seizing his stumble, I unleashed my second spell.
'Earth Wall!'
Rumble! A massive wall of earth erupted behind him against the warehouse. Now left and right were brick walls, back was earth, floor was ice, and Seria rained down from above. Surrounded on all sides.
"It's over!"
Seria dove from the air, branch raised high. The thief hastily assumed a defensive stance.
Thwack!
Good, she held back. His guard broke.
"Urk...!"
"Hand it over! My hairpin!"
Seria followed with a kick straight to his solar plexus.
Thud!
"Gahk!"
He crumpled like a frog, slamming into my earth wall. The silver hairpin clinked from his hand onto the ice.
"My hairpin!"
Seria scooped it up and lovingly wiped it with her sleeve. No scratches—safe and sound.
"Phew, thank goodness."
I sighed in relief and carefully navigated the ice to her side.
"Now, show your face!"
Seria grabbed his collar, radiating killing intent.
"Daring to touch Martel family property. Prepare yourself!"
She snarled, yanking off his black cloak's hood and mask.
"...Huh?"
We both blurted out dumbly as the mask fell away.
"..."
Not what we'd expected. No scarred, vicious bandit face. Dust-caked features, skinny frame, huge eyes trembling in fear. A boy, maybe ten or eleven—way younger than me.
"...A kid?"
I muttered in disbelief, and the boy teared up, struggling against Seria's grip.
"L-Let go! Let me go!"
"...Who are you? Why do this?"
Seria loosened her hold, flustered. Her fierce aura vanished; her eyes wavered in confusion.
"Sniff... Please spare me..."
The boy burst into sobs, collapsing to the ground.
"My siblings... They've been starving for days... No money for medicine... I thought stealing something shiny could buy bread... Sob sob."
Tears streamed down. His bony shoulders heaved, ragged clothes revealing a spine stark against his emaciated back.
"..."
The branch slipped from Seria's hand, clattering down. She stared blankly, then bit her lip hard.
I knew right away from her expression. Her orphan past—wandering cold winter streets, shaking from hunger and chill. She knew that agony better than anyone, so she couldn't bring herself to strike or punish this starving boy thief.
"Seria."
I gently placed a hand on her trembling shoulder.
"I'll handle it."
I eased her back and crouched to meet the sobbing boy's eyes, brushing dirt from his hair with a soft voice.
"Stealing is wrong."
His shoulders flinched at my first words. He sobbed into the dirt, expecting a whipping in the guardhouse.
"But."
I patted his scrawny shoulder lightly.
"Your heart to protect your family? That's admirable."
"...Huh?"
He peeked up in disbelief. I felt Seria's surprised gaze from behind.
"Siblings sick and hungry. You're the eldest, doing your best to feed them. Wrong method, but I respect the responsibility."
I stood, dusting off.
"What's your name?"
"L-Luke... sir."
He whispered meekly.
"Luke, huh. You're quick and sharp. First to evade Seria that long. Wait, no—I'm first, you're second."
I chin-stroked thoughtfully, then grinned.
"Instead of jail, how about earning money legit?"
"M-Money?"
"Yeah. Our barony's in the shampoo business—need hands at the herb farm."
"Y-You need workers?"
"Yep. Weeding, errands, hauling. Earn way more legally than that hairpin. Enough for siblings' meds. Sound good?"
"Y-Yes! I'll do it!"
Tears flooded his eyes. He banged his head on the ice, kowtowing thanks.
"Th-Thank you! Truly, young master! Anything! I'll work till my bones break!"
"Broken bones mean no work. Just work hard, moderately. See that building? Tell the foreman my name—he'll hire you. Go on, I'll vouch."
"Yes, sir! Right away!"
I helped him up and sent him out. He bowed repeatedly over his shoulder, then hurried off with hopeful steps.
"...Young master."
As Luke vanished, silent Seria spoke softly.
"Why? He's a criminal. By barony law..."
"Laws matter, but flexibility too sometimes."
I shrugged at her.
"And I saw you couldn't hit him, hand shaking. Brought back old memories, right?"
"..."
She bowed her head, pierced. She clutched the recovered silver hairpin tenderly.
"Thank you."
She murmured meekly.
"For showing mercy in my place. You're... truly kind."
"Kind? Nah, just the heir scheming to squeeze labor outta shortages."
I quipped coolly, approaching. Up close, she was a mess. Sky-blue dress dirtied from roof rolls, hem torn. She glanced down, crestfallen.
"Ruined my nice new dress."
"Who roof-runs in a skirt? I yelled everything was showing, but you ignored."
"B-But they stole your gift! How could I stand by?"
She huffed indignantly, then shyly looked down.
"Don't worry. Know who I am?"
I snapped my fingers, drawing mana. 'Clean.'
A gentle breeze of purification magic enveloped her. Dirt flaked off the dress; her tousled black hair settled smoothly. Hem still torn, but better than the grimy state.
"Whoa..."
Seria marveled at her clothes.
"There, presentable now."
I took the silver hairpin from her hand and carefully pinned it back by her temple.
"Date's not over."
"...Huh?"
"We planned lakeside sandwiches. Digestion's done chasing thief—I'm hungry. Let's go."
I naturally took her hand and led. She hesitated, then gripped back, following obediently.