Chapter 316
Theo and Aldraya paused for a moment, synchronizing their breathing and scanning their surroundings.
And there, only a few paces from where they stood, at the edge of the swelling crowd, their targets reappeared as if stepping out of a living painting.
Erietta and Ilux had completed their transition from the street world into the world of the market.
A subtle yet significant change had occurred between them.
Ilux's left hand was now clasped firmly, yet gently, within Erietta's right hand.
The grip was no longer a spontaneous act born of a chase, but a calm decision, a deliberate bond as they prepared to enter the sea of people.
With that handhold as their anchor, they stepped into the crowd.
Their pace was slow, unhurried, as if time itself no longer ruled them.
They were absorbed in their own world, heads leaning closer, shoulders frequently brushing, lips moving in conversations drowned out by the market's clamor.
"Let's wait here for a moment. The distance is too close to follow them directly."
"I understand."
Buuuuuk!
"Control yourself, Aldraya. We're not finished with this mission yet."
At the threshold of the market's noise that had begun to bite at the ears, Theo felt that their distance from the two teenagers was still too risky.
Voices and glances could easily slip through the narrow gap separating them within the still-loose crowd at the outskirts.
A sharpened surveillance instinct ordered him to stop, to give space and time.
In a low voice, almost a whisper meant only for the air and the single pair of ears beside him, he spoke to Aldraya.
His words—a simple statement laden with strategic meaning—declared that for now, their place was here, at this intersection of light and shadow, remaining silent spectators before slipping back in.
Aldraya listened.
Her head, which had been facing the crowd, turned toward Theo.
In the multicolored light reflecting off glass and metal around them, her face looked like a living porcelain mask.
Then, without excess expression, she nodded.
A short, certain nod—an unmistakable agreement.
But her action did not stop there.
As if the nod were merely a preamble, her body then moved with unexpected intimacy.
Her pearl-white hair tilted forward with calm surrender, and her head came to rest directly against Theo's chest.
The contact was light yet unmistakably real through the layers of fabric, a weight filled with trust.
Theo was startled.
His chest tightened for a moment, his breath catching.
All his alert senses, still half-focused on the mission, rang loudly.
This was not part of the protocol, not an action accounted for in any observation scenario.
A desire to pull away, to remind her of professionalism, surged within him.
In a voice striving for calm yet still trembling with surprise, he whispered—a gentle request that Aldraya restrain her closeness, that she maintain the necessary distance in an operation like this.
The request evaporated, untouched.
Aldraya did not move.
On the contrary, as if responding in a way only she understood, she pressed her head even more firmly against Theo's chest.
The curve of Theo's shoulder now felt a clearer pressure, a deeper presence.
A silent refusal, yet one heavy with meaning.
"Try this, Ilux! The texture makes no sense—like soap foam—but it tastes so good it makes you laugh! Haha!"
In the belly of the street-food market, Erietta and Ilux moved like two particles of light drifting in a sea of people and sensations.
They never truly anchored themselves; their journey was a continuous flow, an unhurried yet unceasing circuit.
Their hands remained clasped, the only constant amid the shifting scenery, while their free hands busied themselves holding various snacks bought in haste but enjoyed with delight.
They walked as they ate, bite by bite, sip by sip, absorbing not only flavors but also the atmosphere, light, and sounds surrounding them.
At times, the flow formed small eddies.
Erietta, guided by curious instinct or drawn by a particular color or sound, would suddenly halt.
She tugged at Ilux's hand—still firmly held—a subtle yet commanding signal, drawing him off the path toward a specific stall.
Perhaps a cart with a strangely hissing machine, or a tent exuding an unusual fruity aroma.
There, with sparkling eyes, she would order something—usually what she called "weird" or "unique," a challenge for the tongue and a small adventure.
The drink would then fill her grasp: a plastic cup containing a liquid of questionable color or writhing texture.
That moment of testing always became a perfect little spectacle.
Erietta would raise the cup, eyes narrowing with anticipation and a touch of bravery.
Then she would drink.
Not a cautious sip, but a gulp sufficient to capture the drink's entire character.
Her reaction was rarely immediate.
Often, her face would freeze for a moment.
Her brows knit, forming comically confused lines on her forehead.
Her mouth, still holding a quarter of the strange liquid, chewed slowly as if processing not just taste, but a sensory riddle.
She described it as washing-machine foam creeping down her throat, a sensation utterly unfamiliar.
Yet from that confusion, joy often burst forth.
Her frown shattered, turning into an uncontrollable grin before erupting into laughter.
A crisp, honest laugh, admitting that the strangeness was actually delicious—a pleasant surprise.
And at the peak of that delight, without hesitation, the hand holding the cup would extend toward Ilux.
An invitation to share the discovery, to let him feel the same wonder, to make this unique sensation a shared experience.
"Blegh! It tastes like spoiled chocolate milk!"
Fuuuuh!
"Come on, I'll treat you to another drink that's way better than this."
Even though Ilux's expression clearly showed doubt—perhaps even reluctance—after witnessing Erietta's complex reactions, Erietta's resolve was far stronger.
She pushed the plastic cup closer toward Ilux, her eyes shining with a mix of enthusiasm and playful mischief, insisting without truly forcing.
A silent demand to share this strange experience.
Finally, with a dramatic gesture of surrender accompanied by a nod, Ilux gave in.
He bent forward, bringing his mouth to the same straw Erietta had just used—an act of intimacy that crossed the bounds of formality.
The moment his lips closed around the tip of the straw and he sucked, the world seemed to pause for Ilux.
The foamy-textured liquid with its utterly unexpected flavor flooded his tongue, then rushed down his throat.
His reaction was immediate and far more physical than Erietta's.
His body jerked backward as if shocked by electricity, stepping a full pace away from their closeness.
His free hand reflexively covered his mouth, his cheeks puffing briefly before he turned his head and spat the remaining liquid onto the ground beside the cart, his expression uncontrollably disgusted.
His face twisted as if he had just swallowed something terribly wrong.
Through muttered words broken by small coughs, he described the taste as months-expired chocolate milk—a comparison that only amused Erietta even more.
Yet amid the disgust, something interesting happened.
To be continued…