3 A Thief's Purpose

The man's face was dirty, water for him only served as a drink, not for washing. His hair was like nest made of stiff curves held by dirt, just combing it will be unless.

There were only a few 'rats' like him in the city slums. Being one of the hand full peasants in the city, he was treated and termed as such. But in the towering gazes of those wealthy, he certainly looked the part.

"Hhmpp. Rat. I'd prefer fox." Bonufur said, after leaving the crowd, he toyed with the leather pouch in his hands. Clangs from the coins that brimmed from the it were like seducing whispers of a woman. Despite the stitches on his coat, there were still several holes littered across it . They were momentoes of countless fights he survived. But hidden on it, were several more pouches.

Bonufur immediately hid on corner. His right shoe was heavier than the other, but his steps were soundless. Despite running at full speed, he still blended in nicely with the crowd. Like an unoticable shadow that streaked passed the people. While the shadow provided comfort, an even bigger threat looms above.

Alucard's eyes flickered with bloodlust, as he stared at the rat below. He was like a God above. If he so chooses, death will be the only fate the thief can accept. A pest scurrying below the capital's slums, the city he was stationed at. Stealing in broad day light. It was a slap in the Demon Hunter's face.

"The rats of the empire even extends to it's capital. I've heard that officials are in it to" Even the wind faltered slightly at his fury, but Alucard didn't killed him, yet. His professionalism still allowed him to maintain focus, and followed the rat back to it's lair. He then disappeared, and like a shadow, he followed his prey.

The only danger Bonufur was aware of, were large hooded figures on the alley. A robed man bumped him, as he hurried. Unlike the stitched, hole-littered robes the hooded figures wore. A faux fur coat lavished the man. It's fabric was soft, like a mother's caress.

He scurried to a man leaning on a wooden crate. The man was a giant among the men around him. Each of his six-pack were the size bulging-large cups, with arms as big as a woman's waist. He was like a tiny mountain that towered over everyone. His hand leaned on the caurse crate beside him. Not welcoming the man's hand, the crate gave his hide-thick hand with various splinters.

"You sell, I buy." He took out a pouch from his fur coat. Despite the dimness of the alley, his gold coins still shone bright.

"Sure." The giant saw his greediness reflected on the coins, and wasted no time in taking out several of his goods.

Puff of smokes came out. Some were inhaled by Bonufur, sending him to a vivid trip that came from the deepest trenches of his imagination. He shook his head, and a thriving pain ensued. He wanted to curse at the man, but found him on the ground. Intoxicated, the man was already flying high. The man extended his hand towards the sky, foddling the empty air. Who knew what fantasies he groped himself into.

Bonufur hid behind his hood, as he felt the hair-raising gazes that caged him. He passed by a myriad of colorful flowers and verdant herbs exuded an intoxicating aroma. While he further hid behind his hood as the steel-cold glints of daggers shone at the corner of his eyes. Somehow, these dangers were more reassuring than the inhumane gazes given by the citizens of the capital.

The people grew increasingly sparse as he got deeper into the alley way, but a familiar figured leaned on the wall. He blocked Bonufur's way, before looking at him straight in the eyes. Various products were used on his gentleman's hair, it filled the air with an aromatic fragrance. But the blood stain on his fine leather coat told a different story.

Bonufur stopped his scared man act, he came out of his comforting hood to glare back at the man. "It's a long while, Ricameo."

"A long time indeed." Ricameo smiled before a snap of his fingers signaled the entrance of his brothers.

As they surrounded him. Bonufur couldn't help but say, "Are they new?"

"Sharp as ever. But yes, they are. I brought them here for a training." Ricameo then looked at them. "Kill him, and his money will be yours. But make sure his face stays intact."

Like a pack of hungry wolves, they pounced on him with eyes flashing with greed. A sea of punches came from all directions, and whenever he fell down, their hammering kicks forced him to get up. He couldn't see it, but he knew that his whole body looked like a big, purple welt as the bruises upon bruises were stacked on each other. If it weren't for his beating heart, he would have looked like a corpse.

The sea of pain stopped, as the men backed out. It was when a thin, yet familiar man, stood in front of Bonufur. His salty sweat dripped in front of beaten up thief. In his hands, was a rusty hammer given by Ricameo himself. His intention was clear, to hammer Bonufur to death.

Bonufur looked at the hammer, it was raised so high it eclipsed the sun above, it ushered in pure darkness. It was it, his death. But the blood bath was halted as the hammer stopped mere inches away from his head. Memories flashed before his eyes as he saw Bonufur in front of him, causing him to stop.

As the man stared at thief on the ground, a slender sword was making it's way. With one swipe, a head was cleaned off its body.

"I don't tolerate hesitation." Ricameo said, as he looked at the head of his brother beside Bonufur.

Ricameo then kicked Bonufur, sending him crashing at a wall. Bonufur tried to crawl, but a battering stomp planted his head on the ground. He could feel the dusty-hard gravel suffocating him, but the boot was lifted at the very last moment.

"What are you guys waiting for? Rob him." While they took every single pouch on Bonufur's coat. Ricameo stared at him, deep in thought.

Bonufur gave all of his strength to look at Ricameo one last time. That distant silhouette was cold, but just for a moment his eyes flashed a sympathetic warmth.

"Hahaha, hesitating at the last moment." Bonufur laughed. He then took off his right shoe, there several gold coins shone. "This should be enough."

...

The sun's last beams of light seeped through the window, highlighting the pleasure, yet horror the man felt in his last moments. The room was dirty. Everything was splattered on the floor, including a faux fur coat and a woman's lingerie. Weather she happily took them off was forgotten in the moans that lingered in the room.

Alucard wiped the blood off his sword as he looked at the man. "The child that woman bears will grow up without you. Not like he'll need someone like you. You shamed our court with your corruption." He said at the corpse.

He then looked outside, the whole capital was seen outside the window. "Now, that thief will meet the same fate."

...

The moonlight had already gave an ominous light at the dark night, and the stars were all focus one a bruised man beside a river. Bonufur washed away the dirt from his face. Moonlight illuminated the river below, allowing him to see his reflection. Brushing water on his hair, he combed his it nicely. While the refreshing cleansing of his face sent a chill feeling all over his face. After thoroughly cleaning himself, he went deeper into the woods.

The trees towered over everything. Their branches blanketed the forest from the sky above, causing darkness to loom over everything. But somewhere in that all embracing black, light seeped out of the windows of a wooden house. With an aroma that brings out the chewiness of mushroom stew, it draws in Bonufur. The door creaked, but it breathed life into the entire house.

"Dad!" A young boy pounced at Bonufur's bruise-ridden body, but the only thing he could feel was joy. Behind him was a pale-white woman with curly brown hair.

"Welcome home honey." She said with a teary smile.

With all his strength he lifted the both of them. "Let's eat, I'm hungry." Bonufur didn't waste anytime.

After enjoying the company of his family. Bonufur collapsed to the bed's embrace, his long day caressed him to a deep sleep.

A rustle suddenly sounded as Alucard stood on a branch. The moonlight illuminated him. "It is getting dark", he said.

That next morning, before the emperor could stretch off his drowsiness. Alucard's figure surprised him. His sword was on his shoulders, and dirt still covered his boots. Who knew where he went.

"Hey, old man. When am I going to this mission of yours?"