"Th-three coins? I have something here. Can I trade it?" Ramzi asked quietly.
Ramzi took out a metal charm that looked as though it had come from a purse.
"That's a purse charm, isn't it? It's been torn right off. You didn't steal it, did you, kid?" The clown's gaze sharpened.
Ramzi panicked at the accusation. "No, no!"
He seemed so nervous that, for a moment, he let slip an accent different from that of the people of Marley.
"Where did this refugee come from? Get lost! This isn't a place for you!" The clown knocked the object out of Ramzi's hand, sending it clattering to the ground.
Ramzi hurried to pick it up. He looked at the damaged metal charm with anguish. He had indeed stolen it, but one of his friends was gravely ill and had little time left. Before dying, his friend wanted only to find out what a lollipop tasted like, having never eaten one. That was why Ramzi had taken the risk.
Tears of humiliation and guilt streamed down Ramzi's face.
"What gives you the right to say that about him? Why can't he come here?"
Yasuo, who had been running around, suddenly appeared beside them and pointed at the clown's nose, shouting angrily.
The members of the Survey Corps and the passersby began gathering around to watch.
The clown glanced at Yasuo's clothes. He was very well dressed.
"Kid, he's not one of our Marley children. He's a refugee from another people. They're all thieves or robbers, habitual offenders," the clown explained with a smile.
"What makes you so sure he's a thief?" Yasuo continued arguing.
Ramzi looked at Yasuo, his eyes shining.
The clown's mouth twitched at that. Why was this Marley child speaking up for a refugee? Didn't he know these refugees