Even though it was midday and the sun shone brightly, the heat was bearable. Still, a petite figure emerged from the police station, looking downcast as she dragged an unreasonably heavy bag. Alongside her was a young man with a face bruised and furious, his eyes blazing with frustration as he glared at the figure in front of him.
"Hey, next time, make sure you know what you're doing before you jump in, and stop accusing innocent people!" The man finally couldn't hold back any longer and shouted at her.
Malayah Smith quickly turned to face the young man, bowing and apologizing repeatedly. She seemed a bit flustered, yet her expression was genuinely remorseful. "I'm really sorry, truly! I'll be more careful next time. How about this—I cover your medical expenses?" Her hand tightly gripped her pocket, fearing the young man might demand an exorbitant sum.
After venting his frustration, the young man seemed to calm down considerably. He waved his hand dismissively and said, "Alright, alright. Just be smarter next time you're trying to catch a thief. Don't mistake the person helping you for the thief again. Goodbye! Actually, let's just say I hope we never meet again!" He flashed a rather disdainful smile and walked away with long strides.
Watching the young man's silhouette gradually disappear, Malayah finally sighed in relief. She lifted her pale hand to wipe the beads of sweat from her forehead, feeling a mix of emotions.
Today, she'd finally managed to spot a pickpocket on the bus and, with her skills, had apprehended the thief with a swift maneuver and brought him to the police station. However, she quickly discovered that the man she captured was actually the one who had his wallet stolen. The real thief had slipped away during their scuffle. Her face flushed as red as a ripe apple at the thought of her mistake, utterly embarrassed.
"Forget it. I better not dwell on these frustrating matters and head back to my mentor," she thought, knowing how much her mentor disliked tardiness. With this, she pushed the incident from her mind and took hold of the oversized bag, setting off.
"Hey there, Scrappy Cat, you doing alright?" A clear voice called out from beneath a nearby tree before Malayah could walk too far.
Malayah paused in surprise. "Scrappy Cat" was her nickname—one she persistently denied but couldn't escape. Could it be that person was here?
She quickly looked in the direction of the voice. Standing there was a beautiful tree she couldn't name, its green leaves glinting under the sun. Leaning against the trunk was a tall, striking young woman with chestnut-brown hair resembling flowering crabapple, arms crossed, and a pair of eyes that were both icy and warm looking at her.
"Sister?!" Malayah cried out, running up to the coolly elegant woman. "Sister, what are you doing here?!"
The elegant woman's face softened with a loving smile as she stretched out a slender finger to gently tap Malayah on the forehead. "Of course, I'm on the same bus as a certain cat," she teased. "And I got to watch quite the spectacle today, haha."
The cool and stylish beauty was none other than Selena Stewart, Malayah's senior from the same training school and a sisterly figure who cherished her like a real sibling.
Malayah's face turned crimson when she heard Selena's words. "Sister, you didn't see everything that happened on the bus, did you?"
"Absolutely, from start to finish. I saw it all," Selena laughed, standing before Malayah.
Malayah was immediately frustrated, stamping her feet in embarrassment. "Ugh, why is it every time I mess up, you have to witness it? It's been that way since we were kids. I can't handle it—it's so embarrassing!"
Selena tapped Malayah's forehead again, smiling. "Alright, Scrappy Cat, don't be upset. Look, I've got a big surprise for you."
"A surprise? Where? Where?" Malayah perked up instantly at the mention of a surprise, eagerly looking around Selena, only to find emptiness behind her. She pouted in disappointment. "You're teasing me, aren't you? There's no surprise—you’re pulling my leg."
Selena clapped her hands, turned toward the tree, and said coolly, "Come out."
As soon as Selena spoke, a young man with dyed blond hair sheepishly emerged from behind the tree, his head down and his face sporting bruises, suggesting he hadn't escaped unscathed.
"Ah, it's you. You're the thief who slipped away from me!" Malayah recognized the man at once. She approached him, pointing angrily, "Now I've got you! Let's see where you run to now!" She added a light kick for emphasis.
"Please, ladies, have mercy. It was my first time doing this. I promise I'll never do it again. Spare me!" the blond thief begged, kneeling beside Selena and Malayah, tears and snot mixing as he pleaded, "I have an eighty-year-old mother and a younger brother at home. They need me!"
Seeing the thief's pitiful demeanor softened Malayah's heart. She turned to Selena, saying, "Sister, he seems so pitiful. Can't we just let him go?"
Selena, however, smirked coolly and kicked the thief. "Same old story. Can't you come up with something new? Turn yourself in, or it'll be worse for you!" she commanded.
The thief, wary of Selena's prowess, had no choice but to trudge towards the police station, his resentment evident as he glanced back but knowing better than to defy her.
"Sister, you're so awesome! I look up to you so much!" Apart from her mentor, Malayah had always admired Selena, the cool and formidable figure before her.
Selena's icy facade warmed with affection as she tapped Malayah's forehead. "Alright, Scrappy Cat, now's not the time for compliments. We need to get back to our mentor's place before they get upset."
"Okay, Sister. To keep our mentor from blowing a fuse, let's get a taxi back." Malayah looked at the heavy bag in her hands and suggested.
"Nope, can't do. Our mentor specifically instructed us to walk back from the bus stop," Selena replied, tapping Malayah's forehead again with a smile.
"What?!" Malayah's heart sank, feeling her burden grow even heavier. The walk back to their mentor's place was at least six miles. She had quite the journey ahead.
