“Give it back! Give it back right now!”
“Whoa there.”
The moment I asked whether the lost item was a pendant, the girl sprang to her feet and tried to grab me by the collar.
But I couldn’t just let her grab me, so I easily slipped out of reach.
Judging by the way she moved, I couldn’t imagine she had any combat training. Her agility seemed to be honed specifically for pickpocketing.
“...You little—!”
“Now, calm down. I never said I wouldn’t give it back.”
The girl’s hand missed me, and she stumbled forward two or three steps. Then she glared at me, huffing and puffing.
Good grief, she’s scary. That kind of murderous intent was far too much for a girl so young to be giving off. She must have been through some truly harsh circumstances.
As an old man, what scared me more than the murderous intent itself was the kind of environment that could make a girl this young grow up to give off so much of it...
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