Chapter 2: A very unpleasant person.
— What kind of pathetic threats?" Do you think I'm afraid of you?
The contempt in the young man's confused voice was so obvious that the uneducated stratum of the population with which he was currently dealing was able to distinguish the emotional color.
"Then why the fuck are you running away?" Stop and look me in the eye, you pathetic coward!
Sure enough, Ragne's legs were moving so fast that they looked blurred in the dim moonlight, but her face was unwavering.… As much as possible in conditions of intense running.
— Who are you calling a coward, mongrel?" None of you can understand the meaning of the words: tactical retreat.
"A rooster with a loud voice! I'll rip your tongue out!!
"Shove that explanation up your ass!" No, we'll do it ourselves!
"We'll catch up with the bastard, cut him into pieces, and sell him to Zarich's butcher shop!"
- Yes!!!
Whether the young man's words motivated the homeless, or another reason, the fact is that the speed has increased markedly, as well as the purple color of fatigue on the dried fruit faces.
"If I could use the power of the slaughterhouse king, there wouldn't even be any dust left from this filth! I'll have to squeeze every last bit out of my body…"
Despite the high pace, Ragne did not look tired, while the pursuers were ruining the calm of the night with heavy breathing, but as soon as they added a little speed, the slightly pale skin turned red, and the face of a confident young man became extremely tense. As if the limit was exceeded, beyond which fatigue accumulated much faster.
Suddenly, from an alley on the left, on the very edge of the noble district, a girl with red hair that reflected the moonlight as well as a mirror surface jumped out. Beauty and grace intertwined in the stranger, Ragne even looked at her, despite the circumstances that were not the most conducive to admiring.
"Stop, you bastard!"
A woman's screech cut through the young man's ears.
Under the stunned gazes of the homeless and the fleeing target, an equally large gang of pursuers appeared behind the girl. In contrast to the pathetic appearance of the tramps, the ladies looked stately, in rich dresses and coats, with a huge number of precious stones hung all over their bodies.
"What the hell is going on here?!"
"Sir, help me."...
The stranger drew level with Ragne and spoke in a breathless voice.
— There are girls for whom they risk, go to war, sometimes to death, but you... will serve as an excuse only to turn to a doctor, to be checked for sexual sores…
The stranger's indignation took her breath away - a very lousy factor in a situation of desperate kicking.
"That's disgusting! Why does he talk so much and not choke?!"
"It's your fault…
Simultaneously with the appearance of a beautiful smile on his face, the ankle of a girl who intended to leave him to be torn apart by the homeless and arrange a human dump almost fell under the feet of the young man. At the last moment, Ragne avoided the running board and sped off, leaving the villainess behind.
- Vile trash, learn how to trip up!
As soon as the contemptuous words were uttered, one of the heels that the girl was carrying whizzed over Ragna's head.
"Your crooked arm is as good as your crooked leg."
The stranger could not tolerate such treatment, but Ragne did not deny it either. Turning into another alley that led directly to the port of Varenfell, he sped up.
Despite the lateness of the hour, the wharf was bustling with activity. Brave sailors walked around, drinking their salaries, pirates tried to pretend to be ordinary sailors, but the port girls wore out the inter-tribal wealth, raising very good sums. Ragne felt a little indignation as he broke into the idle commotion, followed by satisfaction because his very unusual behavior did not attract close attention. Well, the boy flees from the crowd of homeless people, who does not happen?
"Chance!"
Seeing that one of the moored cruise ships has become a haven of drunkenness, debauchery, and most importantly the sound attacks of some kind of music, the young man rushed there. Running quickly across the wooden bridge, he somehow squeezed through the crowd, and his eyes found several empty barrels.
"Second brother, your stories are truly life-saving…"
"Mr. brute, where are you going?"
Only two steps left to the barrels, when something cold and sharp clung to his back, ripping open his fur coat. At the same time, the girl's sarcastic voice drifted like honey over her ears, red from the rush of blood.