TPCF 69

Posted by zahid, Released on September 9, 2025

CHAPTER 69………………

The girl pounced on Rutger as if she had just discovered a brand-new toy.

“Hi!”

That wasn’t all. Anita even held out an amethyst brooch to him. To be honest, it felt burdensome. What if he accepted it, and later her parents were troubled by it?

When he snapped at her out of irritation—because ignoring her didn’t make her go away—she pulled a pained face and walked off. Her expression, twisted as if holding back tears, lingered in his mind. Rutger couldn’t fall asleep that night and finally sat up in bed.

Just ignore her.

That seemed easier.

“Hi!”

At the all-too-familiar greeting, Rutger clutched his head. It was her again. The girl next door. For some reason, she came by every day, watching him like he was some zoo monkey.

She would toss him little “offerings,” like a banana through the bars, then stroll around with an innocent expression, gauging his reaction. The fact that she’d been shooed away a few days ago didn’t seem to bother her at all.

“Go away.”

“…Do you really hate me that much?”

That pitying look in her eyes made him bristle. But it wasn’t Anita herself he hated—he was just annoyed by everything. Even he didn’t know what he wanted or how he was supposed to live from now on.

“It’s not that I hate you. I just need some time alone.”

“Then when do you want to be together?”

Her black eyes bored into him. They had only met two days ago—why was she so relentless?

“I don’t know. Just go.”

“Okay. But you know your parents are coming over to our house for dinner tonight, right? You’ll have to come too.”

The last thing Rutger wanted was to sit at the same table as that man, Heindel Veylan, and pretend to be a happy family. But children’s opinions were always ignored by adults. So he blurted out, impulsively:

“Hey, wanna run away?”

Anita blinked blankly, as if she’d never heard the word before.

“Run away?”

“Yeah. Want to? If not…”

“No, I’ll go!”

And so Rutger and Anita darted out, using the ivy and rosebushes in the garden as cover, then kicking open the gate and slipping into the street.

Anita had lived on this street her whole life, while Rutger was just the newcomer. Logically, she should have been leading. But somehow Rutger strode confidently ahead, while Anita trailed him, glancing nervously behind every minute.

“So… where are we going?”

“How should I know?”

“…?”

“Just wherever our feet take us. It’s not like we’ll get lost, right?”

Rutger trusted her in his own way. This wasn’t a big, crowded capital city—it was a quiet little town. How could they possibly lose their way?

“Wow, this is my first time doing something like this. So now we’ll catch a train to the next city, get fake jobs, and go undercover, right?”

“…What?”

Blushing, Anita hugged the book in her arms tighter. The Truth of the Crimson Footprints. The same one she’d been carrying yesterday.

“What even is that?”

“This? Are you into detective novels too? In this one, there’s a horrible murder every time, and the culprit always leaves unique footprints. They cut off the victim’s legs, soak them in blood like ink, and leave bright red tracks at the crime scene…”

She chattered away with excitement, and Rutger’s brow furrowed. Why did I run away with her? Too impulsive. Anita simply wouldn’t shut up. If at least her stories were interesting, he might have humored her. But she went from murders to outer space, and before he realized it, she was explaining how trains worked.

“I don’t care, Anita Rodel. Why would anyone need to know that stuff?”

He meant it. He had taken steam trains often enough with his mother, but not once had he wondered how they actually worked.

He hadn’t thought much of the remark, but Anita was clearly shaken, stammering.

“H-how… how could that not be interesting? Then you—”

Rutger just clamped his hands over his ears. Damn weirdo.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Anita Rodel.”

Anita’s shoulders stiffened as she hugged her book, following behind Rutger. She tried to ignore the voice and walk on, but a rough hand clamped down on her shoulder and spun her around.

A face filled her vision—snarling like a rabid dog, or maybe a bulldog. Trey.

“Anita? Why are you dawdling here… and who the hell are you?”

Rutger, hearing the footsteps behind him stop, turned around.

Shouldn’t have come to Fourth Street.

It was too late for Anita to regret it now. Petty Trey—he must still be holding a grudge over that stupid incident she’d tattled about.

She squeezed her eyes shut and lifted her thick book like a shield, bracing for a blow.

But nothing happened.

Peeking her eyes open, she saw a familiar back. Rutger’s—one she had stared at for half a day.

“And who are you?”

“That’s my line. Who do you think you are, butting in?”

Trey’s face flushed red to his neck, breathing heavily in anger. Watching from behind Rutger’s back, Anita whispered softly:

“Let’s just run. He’s big, so he’ll be slow.”