Naph was about to jump out the window when Don Extea called out to him.
"Naph, come on. Let's go to your ride first." Anaphol was confused.
More than that he was startled. The cadence and subtlety of Don Extea had always been on point. They had an escape plan before the exchange.
But Extea was cancelling it. He was urging to go to his ride. Not the bar, not the street outside. Not some other random place.
Naph's humour died within him. He knew.
He wasn't just surrounded. He had already been declared dead. There must be a public proclamation of his death as dying to Bulwark or something along those lines.
Naph cracked his dry voice. He didn't know he could get one in such a climate.
His life had tipped.
"But my ride is already wrecked beyond repair. I should just go get a tamed caestre." Naph whistled in his message.
Extea just turned around gripping one of the duffle bags off the table.
"Tamed caestre is a good choice. Let's try the Barley's Pet store. They will have something that can fit your ride as a wagon. Wheels work no matter the situation, right?"
Extea's face wasn't visible to Naph. Extea didn't want him to see it. No, not this face of utter defeat.
The Don Extea was a member not of mafia but of bounty collectors most renowned hunters list. His name meant 'you will be terminated.' It was that simple, once someone knew he was hunting them. They knew to better lock up their work.
Naph walked across the room and opened the door Extea was standing in front of.
"Barley only stays open in the first half. We are already late, come on we better run." Naph had his comic quips dying. Even he didn't want…No, his thoughts had run wild as the door opened.
A new process, a new blue—born of the brain—had begun in him.
'I am Anaphol. Remember it. Remember the reason behind the name.' He reprimanded his trepidation.
They were back in the maze under the city. The maze part in The Outro Restro, was made especially by Don Extea. So they couldn't just exit through that path, not without risking everyone there into the problem that came with killing Bulwark.
Or maybe everyone there had already been murdered. He didn't know, nor Extea did.
The exchange building could only be entered through the maze under the city. It was made like that. The building from outside always looked ramshackled, broken and never to be repaired.
Someone always came to claim it will be, then another proclamation by the city will happen that its allocated resource had to readdressed.
Today, however, Bulwark's bounty itself exceeded the amount of money required to even better make the building anew.
Naph had these wild thoughts in his mind. A few matched Don Extea's. They both were quite aware of the madness that followed money. The bounty collectors also were, in fact, addicts of it, except they went a step further. They did not care enough for human or any life for the matter.
Naph was underage to be registered as low staged Caestrea hunter or whatever was the correct term. For all he knew, he was a bounty collector. That's what he called himself based on the mannerisms he picked from the outskirts and city's inside talks.
This bounty collector, current contenders were people with enough brawns that just its mention was enough to cancel every escape they had.
Don Extea's mind was over clocking. He wasn't even aware of where he was. Just of how to survive the fallout of killing Bulwark. According to all the knowledge he gained, he knew. He knew the city was done for.
Bulwark wasn't called Bulwark for no reason. She was a real Bulwark. Protecting this city of half a million people from the rampages of caestrea and other cities.
Even when the city claimed they were part of some nation. It was just a lie of the time. A decade ago, the city was part of some other kingdom. Now a nation.
Naph and Don Extea walking in a daze didn't know when they had exited the maze into the main street. But their realization also saved them while it doomed the people around.
Naph's plans he made on the fly on his situation were more focused on the end part than the start. And the start had been handed to them by their own volatile hearts.
A crowded city street. Perfect place for silent ambushes. And a stampede as well.
Naph screamed pointing at Don Extea, "he-he-he touched me. Someone! This man is touching me, groping me!" Naph screamed to the crowd.
The crowd looked at Naph then at the burly figure of Don Extea. A few believed the boy, some hesitated. In all of the surrounded people, several moved.
Intents unknown. But their targets have revealed themselves.
Now the stage was set. And Don Extea reacted the way he knew best for this moment, "Eh! Boy! You looked so juicy I couldyy helped myself…hehe."
Internally, Don Extea screamed at himself, 'where are my acting skills gone! Damn it!'
Naph picked up. He screamed more loudly and rammed himself into the nearby three bystanders, "look, he- he –he even. He even.." Sobbing dramatically to the three bystanders, Naph approached to steal their wallets.
The bystanders however were caught glancing into the open duffle bag Naph was carrying. It had so many Tarna.
They could just retire on it. The bystanders raised their voice, calling forth for a on-site trial. A few guards patrolling the streets started moving towards them. As Naph was pushed back behind the three unique bystanders.
He had gained their wallets, while the bystanders had caught onto their madness for money. The stage erupted.
Don Extea wasn't the main target. He was the scapegoat not to be killed, he knew of it. His involvement in the Bulwark case and his prior reputation all warranted that.
And thus the stage by Naph and Don Extea marched towards its stampede. The bystanders vocal of the trial were pulled back by a few guards that had reached. Naph was gone. Don Extea in the front and center.
The guards asked the three bystanders who had nearly started a trial of combat, to show some identification. That's when the real stampede began.
Don Extea ran into the guards and over the three bystanders. Then in another direction as if he had seen some closer stationed guards coming his way. A misguiding lie.
The brawns hidden in the crowd now had to choose the target they wanted but a human wall was dividing up the forces more and more.
Naph however was a blue in the browns and blacks of the crowd. Not hard to distinguish.
Except for a larger man to barrel away, crashing into several people.
Extea knew Naph. And Naph knew Extea.
Both had worked as client and middleman for quite the bounties that came through his bar. Sometimes on bounties that Naph picked from some other places.
Now Naph was showing his expertise. His task simpler and yet the hardest, to survive.
Survive until he could defeat the brawns hidden in the shadows with the blues of thought and intellect.
The three bystanders had two knocked out; a guard out of the couple that came to halt the upcoming stampede had lost their weapon and missing a tooth even.
Time for a new misdirection to begin. One not by Naph or Don Extea, their expectations were met.
There was a smoke rising, a dark one. The staff of The Outro Restro had done their part without ever knowing what happened.
The place chose Naph and Don Extea's survival over its future prospect as a true restaurant.
The smoke was wild. The guards that were further from the stampede area but in view also saw the smoke. They were in a peril to run to the smoke's origin, or stop the rising stampede.
Don Extea had gained quite the pursuers, while he ran away towards the smoke.
The guards that attempted to catch him as he passed them by were hit by the stolen staff. A handy tool for any guard, unlocking or gearing it with a blade and it's a spear.
Easy to do for guards and for Don Extea too. He picked one from the new knocked out guards, one after the other.
Naph's mystery however baffled his hidden pursuers more. Their attention had been on him, only a split second distraction of the smoke and he was gone. The blue in the browns and blacks was gone. What was even weirder was the fact that Naph didn't even wear a blue, he had neon jacket.
So where did the blue come from? The answer may very well be closer to people missing their wallets' inner belongings.
Naph had shown his ingenuity as all the wallets in Sevenren came from the same maker, who used blue for the inside of the wallets.
Naph had been ripping the wallets apart. A stampede behind the boy had begun with the slow realization of the people, their wallets trashed, their money for the pickpockets. Naph had his own crowd of fans to trample the brawns.