Cassian stepped into the dark alley, her brightest smile plastered across her face.

  “This purse belongs to me.” Her voice was soft, almost cheerful. “That thief snatched it from me just a few minutes ago. Thank you so much for catching him for me. I’m incredibly grateful.”

  The five thugs looked at each other.

  Then burst out laughing.

  “Hey, guys!” The biggest one — the one holding the purse — wiped his eyes. “She thinks we’re just gonna… hand it back to her!”

  “That’s adorable!” added another, a skinny guy with a scar across his forehead.

  The big one stepped closer, casually swinging the purse. “Listen, little girl. Getting robbed of this much money is actually impressive. This thing is heavy. Really heavy.” He weighed it in his hand. “And honestly? We’re not even slightly tempted to give it back.”

  Cassian kept smiling, though her eyes cooled slightly. “I understand your hesitation. But you see, this is all my savings. It’s for my little brother’s medical bills. He’s sick. Very sick.” She lowered her gaze, putting on a vulnerable expression. “I can’t lose this money. Please. I can’t afford to.”

  One of the thugs — a burly guy with a messy beard — sniffled loudly.

  “That’s… that’s really sad.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “Her little brother…”

  SMACK.

  One of the others slapped the back of his head. “Pull yourself together, idiot!”

  The leader stepped even closer to Cassian. “Sorry, princess. But today is not your lucky day.”

  Cassian’s expression changed instantly. The smile vanished. Her eyes turned ice-cold. Her voice completely flat, devoid of emotion.

  “You people are really stupid.”

  A blur of movement.

  The thug closest to her dropped to the ground, unconscious, before he even realized what had happened.

  The remaining four froze, mouths open.

  Cassian looked up and sighed. “I did give you a chance.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “YOU BITCH!” Another thug — muscular, arms covered in tattoos — charged at her. “You’re gonna REGRET that!”

  He swung a heavy fist.

  Cassian tilted her head. The punch missed by inches.

  He swung again. She slipped to the side.

  “STOP MOVING!”

  Street fight 101, Cassian thought. Never let yourself get surrounded. Stay mobile. Hit fast and hard.

  She was used to this. Back on Earth, in her previous life, fights had been frequent. And her parents had paid for the best martial arts trainers.

  Boxing. Muay Thai. Jiu-jitsu. Krav Maga.

  Against street thugs? Child’s play.

  One threw a clumsy punch. Cassian blocked it, grabbed his arm, and threw him straight into his partner. Both collapsed in a tangle of limbs.

  Meanwhile, the original thief — the young man — was quietly trying to sneak toward the leader to snatch the purse.

  The big guy noticed. His hand shot out, grabbing the thief by the collar and lifting him off the ground with one arm.

  “You’re pretty light, kid.”

  He raised his fist, ready to smash it down.

  Then he turned his head to the right.

  Cassian stood there, not a scratch on her. The other four thugs lay on the ground, groaning softly.

  “…Shit.”

  He dropped the thief, who hit the ground hard, and pulled a knife from his belt.

  Cassian took a step back, her face twisting in disgust. “Really?”

  These are the people I hate the MOST. The second they’re cornered, they pull a weapon. Pathetic cheaters.

  A memory flashed through her mind. High school. Second-floor bathrooms. Some guy — what was his name again? — whom she’d been beating up for… she didn’t even remember why anymore. The loser had pulled a knife from his bag, thinking he could scare her.

  He became her number-one target for the rest of the year. They bullied him so hard he transferred schools.

  The thug started licking the blade, an ugly grin on his face. “Scared now, huh?”

  Then he winced.

  SHLICK.

  He’d sliced his own tongue. The knife clattered from his shaking hands.

  “AH! FUCK!” He dropped to his knees, clutching his mouth. Blood dripped between his fingers.

  Cassian rushed over, crouching and placing a concerned hand on his back. “Are you okay?!”

  That must really hurt, biting your own tongue like that.

  “Grmmph…” the man whimpered, tears in his eyes.

  Footsteps echoed from the mouth of the alley.

  “What’s going on here?!”

  Two guards appeared — leather armor, swords at their hips, official badges on their chests.

  Cassian’s face lit up. Finally! Authority! Justice!

  The thief tried to slink away, but Cassian grabbed his arm in an iron grip.

  “OW!” He struggled. “Let go of me!”

  “Not a chance, thief.”

  “How are you this strong?!”

  The guards approached, taking in the scene. One — brown hair, neatly trimmed beard — stood near Cassian, listening. The other — taller, bulkier — circled around, inspecting the unconscious thugs.

  The big one pulled a bottle from his belt and took a long swig.

  “What happened here?” asked the brown-haired guard.

  Cassian happily explained. In great detail. The theft. The chase. The thugs. Everything.

  The guard nodded at regular intervals. “I see. I see.”

  He pointed at the purse, still in the leader’s hand. “Is that the purse you’re talking about?”

  “Yes!” Cassian pointed at the thief. “And this thief needs to be arrested right now!”

  The thief thrashed. “No! Wait! The real thief already ran away! She’s got the wrong person! I’m innocent!”

  Cassian stared at him, incredulous. This asshole is seriously lying. Right in front of me. To my face.

  The thief looked away, unable to meet her icy gaze.

  The guard picked up the purse, opened it, and whistled softly. “Lots of gold coins in here.”

  “Yes. It’s mine.”

  “Hmm.” He stood up, frowning. “Unfortunately, this situation is too complicated to resolve quickly.”

  “…What?”

  “There’s a lot of money in this purse. Way too much.” He scratched his beard. “It’s very likely that everyone here just saw an abandoned purse and fought over it.”

  Cassian stared at him, mouth open. “You… you’re joking, right?”

  “Until the true owner can be precisely identified,” he continued, ignoring her protest, “this purse will remain under our supervision.”

  NO. NO NO NO.

  “It’s my life savings!” Cassian shouted. “For my sick little brother’s medical bills!”

  Both guards looked her straight in the eyes.

  The big one finished his bottle with a loud glug. “Lately,” he said slowly, “the pay… it’s really not that great anymore.”

  “…Excuse me?”

  “We’re underpaid. Overworked.” He tossed the empty bottle into a corner. “Best thing is for this money to go toward funding us. It would support the forces of law and order.”

  Cassian blinked. “Wait. What are you…”

  The brown-haired guard smiled — a smile that never reached his eyes. “You understand, don’t you? The city needs well-funded guards. To protect people like you.”