*********
Ryan remained silent after everything settled.
He was grateful—deeply so—but that gratitude sat uncomfortably in his chest. As a man, he had been raised to believe that strength was something to be displayed outwardly, that protection flowed in one direction only. Being placed behind someone else, especially a woman, bruised his pride more than the injuries he sustained during the fight.
Still, he understood his place.
For now, silence was the wiser choice.
While Ryan was lost in his thoughts, Scarlette exhaled slowly. The tension had barely left her shoulders when a familiar ache began to form at her temple—a dull, persistent pressure threatening to blossom into a headache. The incident was over, yet the consequences lingered.
This is exactly why I prefer working alone, she thought irritably.
Because Ryan was now her companion, the responsibility fell squarely on her shoulders. Whatever mess had been made tonight—broken stalls, frightened civilians, shaken order—she would have to clean it up.
She didn't like that.
'Be thankful that I'm tolerating you right now, Ryan,' her thoughts continued coolly. 'When the time comes, you will explain to me why you're here.'
Scarlette turned her gaze toward the area surrounding them. Cracked pavement marred the street, fragments of debris scattered as evidence of the earlier clash. A few guards were still directing locals away while others inspected the damage.
From the look of it, she had no choice.
I'll need to report this to the City Lord.
The realization only deepened her irritation.
'Another reason why I don't like having company,' she thought. 'After this… I won't be taking anyone with me again.'
She cast a sideways glance at Ryan, who was standing quietly beside her, posture stiff. He looked uncertain, like he was waiting for instructions—or judgment.
Scarlette sighed.
"Any injuries?" she asked bluntly. "Hurt?"
Ryan snapped out of his thoughts and looked at her. He understood immediately that she was assessing him, her sharp eyes scanning his body for fresh wounds.
Despite her tone, there was no indifference in her gaze.
Not gentle either.
Just… practical.
"I'm fine," he replied after a moment. "A few more scratches. Some bruises piled on top of the old ones. Nothing serious."
At his response, Scarlette reached into her pouch and retrieved a small paper bag. Without ceremony, she placed it in his hand.
Ryan blinked, staring down at it.
"…What's this?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she turned her attention back toward the guards as if the matter were already closed.
Perplexed, Ryan carefully opened the bag.
Inside were medicinal herbs—fresh, aromatic, high-quality. The kind that adventurers valued dearly and paid generously for when injured.
He looked up at her, confused.
"Ah… t-this—"
"Forget the payment," Scarlette said curtly. "Compensation."
Ryan stiffened.
Compensation? For what? he thought incredulously. Could you explain things properly for once?!
He resisted the urge to say it aloud. Arguing with Scarlette about her phrasing was pointless—he'd learned that much already.
Instead, he accepted the bag, fingers closing around it carefully.
"…Thank you."
The words left his mouth before he could stop them, genuine and unguarded.
Scarlette did not respond, but he noticed she didn't push the bag away either.
Ryan lowered his gaze, an unfamiliar emotion stirring in his chest.
This was the first time he received sincerity without calculation behind it. No favors sought, no debt implied, no expectations silently imposed.
Back home, kindness always came with conditions.
People bowed, smiled, offered aid—but always because of who he was, not him. Even resentment hid behind politeness.
Scarlette, however, had no interest in his status. She didn't need his gratitude, nor did she care for repayment.
That made the gesture feel heavier than gold.
She might be cold. Emotionless at times.
But her actions carried honesty.
That realization weighed on him.
And with it came guilt.
He was lying to her.
Worse—he was using her.
Scarlette Overland was his primary key in finding that person he had been searching for. He told himself it wasn't malicious, that circumstances forced his hand.
Still…
'I didn't want to lie to her,' he admitted inwardly. 'But I can't reveal my identity—not yet.'
If there came a day when his identity was exposed, he hoped—truly hoped—that Scarlette would listen to his explanation before judging him.
Ryan looked around again, the damaged street reflecting the chaos he had unwillingly dragged her into.
Shame prickled faintly under his skin.
"We should go," Scarlette said suddenly. "I'll handle this first."
Ryan flinched, then hurriedly spoke up.
"W-wait! Shouldn't I come with you?" he asked. "I mean, I was involved too. I should help explain what happened."
Scarlette turned to him.
Her expression was perfectly blank.
That alone answered his question.
Ryan swallowed and nodded, deciding not to push his luck. He'd seen that look before—it meant don't test me.
Without another word, Scarlette stepped away and approached the scattering guards who were still assisting locals in organizing the area.
From afar, Ryan watched as she addressed them calmly. There was no arrogance in her posture, no attempt to assert dominance—only efficiency.
She's really taking responsibility for this, he realized.
Little by little, the crowd began dispersing. People whispered as they left, some casting careful glances back at Scarlette before continuing on their way. It wouldn't take long for word of this incident to spread beyond the city.
Scarlette knew that.
It was inevitable.
She produced a written report detailing the events and handed it to one of the guards, informing them that she would personally meet with the City Lord after attending to a few urgent matters.
The guards recognized her at once.
Her reputation preceded her.
They accepted the report without question and assured her they would deliver both the document and her message promptly.
After settling the immediate obligations, Scarlette thanked them briefly.
Then she returned to Ryan.
"We're leaving," she said simply.
Ryan nodded, following her as they moved away from the site of the incident.
After some distance, Ryan noticed Scarlette veering toward a stall tucked between larger shops. An unfamiliar man stood beside it, posture relaxed yet alert.
Ryan slowed slightly.
That man… he thought. I've seen that kind of presence before.
The stranger's aura was different from the average commoner—subtle, controlled. Not aggressive, but distinctly refined.
Scarlette stopped in front of him.
The two exchanged words—quietly.
Ryan stayed back, observing.
'Another adventurer?' he wondered. No… that doesn't quite fit.
It was rare for Scarlette to initiate conversation.
Extremely rare.
He studied the man more closely.
Auburn hair. Sapphire eyes.
There was something familiar about him, but Ryan couldn't place it. The way he carried himself felt… noble.
Yet he dressed plainly.
'Strange,' Ryan mused.
As he watched, he noticed that the auburn-haired man did most of the talking while Scarlette simply listened.
Ryan couldn't stop himself from chuckling softly.
'Yeah,' he thought wryly. 'I get it.'
Trying to hold a conversation with Scarlette was like talking to an extremely polite statue.
Still, her willingness to listen implied something more.
Even standing just a few steps away, Ryan couldn't hear their exchange. The air around them felt muted—likely due to an artifact blocking sound.
His curiosity flared and then died.
Better not pry.
After several minutes, their conversation concluded.
The auburn-haired man turned toward Ryan and smiled faintly. He stepped forward and extended his hand.
Ryan hesitated for a fraction of a second, then accepted the handshake.
The man spoke, tone warm and composed.
"Please to meet you. My name is Varyn, by the way."
*********