He stood where he was. There was no anger on his face; instead, he laughed.
"Interesting."
In that moment of close contact just now, he had caught a trace of aura.
That aura first gathered around Shuto's legs, then poured into his waist and back when he landed. When his hand touched the cash box, the aura compressed into his palm as well. Its circulation was utterly disordered, and he could not control its strength, but it had indeed wrapped around his body.
A crude Ten.
Shuto himself had no awareness of it whatsoever. He was relying entirely on the instincts forged by survival and years of thievery.
"Hey, outsider."
A thug at the mouth of the alley called out to him.
"You still chasing him? That kid runs fast in the drainage district. By the time you get out there, the money will be long gone."
Morel bent down and picked up the shoe Shuto had dropped, along with the coat he had taken off when asking for help.
Part of the sole had been shaved away and filled with iron sheets. The different weights of the sounds it made on brick floors and iron plates were highly misleading. The stitching on the hidden pockets inside the coat was rough and messy, but they all avoided the shoulders, elbows, and waist, so the seams would not rub against his joints while he ran.
A little thief who could not even afford enough food had modified his own shoes and clothes, broken into the basement of a hospital controlled by the royal family, and spontaneously learned Nen without anyone teaching him.
He seemed to be a rare talent.
Morel tossed the shoe to the thug running the betting pool.
"Hold onto it for me."
"You're really going after him?"
"I