The Violent Constable

Ilusia Kingdom, Bash Town, a frontier settlement.

Dawn was like a miserly painter, using only the palest colors to sketch the town's outline.

The faint light dispelled the night's chill, and life began to return to the quiet streets. Warm, toasted aromas drifted from the bakery; fishmongers set crates reeking of the sea onto their stalls. The murmurs of passersby, hawkers' cries, and children's laughter as they chased one another gradually converged, weaving a seemingly unbreakable peace.

"Thief! Catch the thief!"

Suddenly, that gauze-thin tranquility was easily torn apart by a piercing cry.

A middle-aged woman, pale-faced and disheveled, ran with all her strength while wildly waving her arms, trying to draw every gaze toward her.

Her eyes were filled with desperate pleading. Ahead of her, a skinny, shifty-eyed man clutched a woman's shoulder bag tightly to his chest, darting through the crowd like a startled rat.

He brutally kicked aside a child blocking his path. Amid the child's piercing cries, he made another nimble leap and evaded the outstretched arm of a burly resident trying to stop him.

His movements were so agile they were almost uncanny, leaving all his pursuers far behind. The town exit was right ahead. Freedom seemed within reach.

Whoosh—!

Accompanied by a faint sound of slicing air, a tall figure appeared like a ghost, silently standing at the town's only exit.

The newcomer wore a somewhat worn black top hat. His skin was unnaturally pale, almost sickly so. A crisp constable's uniform wrapped around his lean frame, revealing his identity.

The tall constable lowered his head slightly and curled his lips. Dark lipstick traced a curve that could almost be called polite.

"Sir, this road is closed."

The shifty-eyed man came to an abrupt stop, savagery flashing in his eyes like a trapped beast