Arata ran desperately along the sidewalks of the capital of Karakiri.
His feet struck against the polished stone as he dodged demi-humans and merchants blocking his path.
"I need to reach the slums before sunset," he thought, his lungs burning from lack of air.
"This time, I have to talk to Felicia and Bon before everything happens.
I need to convince them to prepare for a fight and hold Yumi off for some time."
As he pressed forward, Arata felt the crushing weight of responsibility on his shoulders.
The slightest mistake in his plan would result in Bon and Felicia being brutally killed again, not to mention the tragic fate of the blonde girl.
The heat of the setting sun still beat down on his body, a visual reminder that night was still some time away, giving him the precious window he needed to overturn destiny.
The sound of his own ragged breathing filled his ears.
Everything had to go perfectly.
He knew that Kauã Alves would do his part by delivering the message to the owner of the necklace.
Now, it was entirely up to him to align the remaining pieces and finally reach the Perfect Route.
He slowed down for a moment, stopping to place his hands on his knees and catch his breath, trying to calm his racing heart.
Around him, the bustle of the local shopping district began to fill his senses.
The earthy aroma of fresh vegetables piled up at the stalls mixed with the sweet scent of ripe apples.
Nearby, a fruit vendor held a shiny piece of fruit in his hand while observing the exhausted young man.
— Hey, kid! Why are you in such a hurry? — the merchant asked with a light laugh. — Well, actually, that doesn't matter much. Want an apple?
Arata straightened up, wiping the sweat from his forehead before looking at the man.
— Hey, sir... Am I going the right way to the slums?
I was so lost in my own thoughts that I got confused about whether this was the fastest route.
— Well, kid... I've never set foot in that place, and I don't intend to — the merchant frowned. — But I do know that you're taking the fastest shortcut toward the outskirts.
Do you happen to live there? Or is there someone important waiting for you in that hole?
— I don't live there — Arata replied, his expression serious.
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— But I want to go there to save some important people.
— I see... — The man scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly awkward.
— Sorry for being curious. It's just that a guy wearing clothes as strange as yours doesn't pass by here every day.
That got me intrigued.
But anyway, are you going to take the apple? It's only five kiris. That's cheap.
— Thanks, sir, but I'll have to pass — Arata said with an awkward smile, adjusting his jacket.
— I'm more broke than an intern at the end of the month! But thanks a lot for the information!
— In that case, if you're not buying anything, could you please move away from my stall? — the man grumbled, raising an eyebrow.
— I need to work and sell my fruit.
— All right! See you!
Arata bent his knees and pushed off, launching himself into another sprint toward the north.
Minutes of continuous running passed before he finally reached the district's outskirts, crossing the old, worn wooden bridge.
Below him, dark and polluted sewage water flowed slowly, releasing a cold breeze and that sour stench that made his stomach churn.
As he continued forward, the shacks seemed to pile on top of one another in chaotic fashion, defying gravity with crooked wooden beams and rusted metal patches that creaked miserably in the wind.
There was no symmetry in those alleys.
The path narrowed to the point where Arata was almost forced to walk sideways, squeezed between makeshift walls that constantly seeped cold moisture.
Roofs made of rotten straw and torn canvas covered the tops of the alleys, turning the evening into a suffocating gray gloom where sunlight barely managed to filter through.
The ground beneath his feet constantly shifted from packed dirt to thick, dark mud that clung to the soles of his shoes, hiding debris and stagnant puddles.
The silence of the place was deeply deceptive, filled with an uncomfortable symphony: the constant creaking of old wood settling into place, the rhythmic dripping from broken gutters, and the muffled whispers of suspicious conversations that abruptly ceased whenever he turned a corner.
The air was thick, heavy with the smell of damp plaster and smoke from makeshift fires burning scraps of garbage to keep the residents warm against the approaching night.
The feeling of isolation was absolute.
From the dark gaps of windowless openings and crooked doors, Arata could feel invisible, hostile eyes following his every movement.
Cheap oil lamps, sparsely placed at the darkest corners, cast long, distorted shadows that seemed to come alive across the walls of moldy wooden planks.
Every dark corner seemed like a potential trap.
Arata continued climbing toward the northern part of the slums.
The sound of his footsteps became muffled by the dried mud, swallowed by the unsettling silence.
In the distance, the echo of dry coughs and the metallic scraping of sharpened blades cut through the atmosphere, sending an uncomfortable shiver down his spine.
He ignored the fear and continued forward.
After what felt like an eternity of climbing, Arata stopped, panting heavily in front of the wooden mansion.
— I made it...! Whew... — he exclaimed, looking toward the horizon.
— The sun is still far from completely setting. There's still time... I'm going to change things.
Without hesitation, he walked to the entrance and knocked firmly against the worn wooden door.
With a quick creak, the door opened, revealing the robust figure of Old Bon.
— Well... Who are you, kid? — the elderly man asked, examining the stranger's unusual clothes.
— I have something extremely important to tell you! — Arata blurted out without hesitation.
— And what would that be? — Bon raised an eyebrow.
— It's about Yumi... The thief you scheduled a meeting with.
She's not trustworthy — Arata revealed, his voice nearly trembling from exhaustion and nervousness.
— She's going to murder both of you.
Old Bon frowned, immediately becoming defensive.
— Is this some kind of sick joke, brat?
Before the man could close the door, Felicia appeared behind him, drawn by the commotion.
— Old Bon, do you know this weird guy? — the girl asked.
— No — Bon answered curtly.
— I've never seen him in my life.
— Then get lost, kid — Felicia ordered, fixing Arata with a serious, sharp gaze.
— None of us know you, so get out of our way.
In desperation, Arata bent his knees and dropped directly onto the dirt, begging with his hands extended.
— Please!! Listen to me!
This negotiation today is nothing but a trap!
Yumi's real objective is to use this house as bait to lure the owner of the necklace here.
And to make sure there are no witnesses, she's going to kill both of you in cold blood!
She has absolutely no intention of handing over the jewel!
I... I just don't want you to die!
Felicia and Bon exchanged glances, touched by the intensity and genuine panic in the young man's voice.
— But we don't even know who you are... — Felicia murmured, her gaze wavering between suspicion and confusion.
— How are we supposed to know whether this information is real or if it's just some delusion you've made up?
— Please, believe me! I swear on your lives that it's the truth!
Old Bon remained silent for several moments, carefully analyzing the posture of the young man kneeling before him.
Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and opened the door wider.
— Let him in, Felicia. From what I can see in his eyes, this kid isn't lying.
— Thank you so much...! — Arata exclaimed, quickly standing up and releasing an overwhelming sigh of relief.
— You'd better be right about this, weird kid — Felicia commented, crossing her arms as she stepped aside to let him pass.
— I swear I am.
Before crossing the threshold and entering the mansion, Arata turned his head one last time.
He stared directly at the sun, which was slowly descending toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of red.
"This time... I'm going to save everyone," he promised himself.
Arata entered the building alongside Bon and Felicia, carefully closing the wooden door behind him and sealing the beginning of their new strategy.
End of Chapter 12...
To be continued in Chapter 13...