SWNOVELXO Chapter 30: The Thief
Ark walked through the neon-lit streets, the coin in his hand still cool from the recent toss. He opened his palm and stared at the design—the demon's sneer seemed to mock him.
"Demon?" he muttered, slipping the coin back into his pocket, his steps growing restless.
Leaving the restaurant had put him in a good mood—after all, he'd just had a feast. But fate clearly had no intention of letting him relax for long. Within an hour, street surveillance cameras had caught him three times. Worse, a few Golden Eagle patrol robots suddenly appeared at the street corner.
"What the hell? Did these bastards sniff me out?" Ark cursed under his breath, his heartbeat quickening. He swiftly turned into an alley, but after just a few steps, mechanical footsteps sounded behind him.
"Target locked. Initiating capture." The cold mechanical voice sent a chill down his spine.
Ark sprinted deeper into the alley, the footsteps growing closer behind him. It seemed the demon's curse had already taken effect—his foot landed on a slick patch of ground, and he lost his balance, crashing to the ground.
"Shit!" He gritted his teeth and got up, glancing back—patrol robots had entered the alley, their weapons flashing red, ready to fire at any moment.
Ark instinctively reached for the small knife in his jacket, but a second later, he let out a bitter laugh. "What, am I supposed to fight robots with a knife? Might as well be a goddamn clown."
Gunfire erupted. A bullet grazed his shoulder, nearly ripping off a chunk of flesh. Clutching the wound, he kept running—he didn't have the luxury of hesitation. He dashed to the alley's end, only to find himself blocked by a chain-link fence.
"Game over," he panted, the demon's laughter echoing in his mind.
At that moment, a shadow leaped in from the other end of the alley. The figure moved with fluid precision, closing in on the nearest robot. With a swift motion, his hands pressed against the machine, seemingly extracting something from within. Instantly, the robot let out a screeching alarm, its mechanical arms going limp.
"Hey! You wanna die or live?" The man grinned, turning toward Ark. His dark skin gleamed with sweat in the dim light, tattoos sprawling across his exposed arms, exuding a wild and unrestrained energy.
"Live!" Ark answered without hesitation, lunging toward him.
"Then keep up and don't slow me down!" The man laughed boldly before charging deeper into the alley, punching open a rusted metal door. Ark scrambled after him, narrowly avoiding another hail of gunfire.
They ran through multiple streets, finally shaking off their pursuers. Ark collapsed onto a pile of discarded wooden crates, gasping for air. The man leaned against a wall, barely winded, and smirked at Ark.
"You run pretty well. Didn't expect a scrap mechanic to have such a strong survival instinct." He flashed a grin, his teeth stark white against his dark skin.
Ark raised his head, eyes wary. "Who are you? Why'd you help me?"
"Matias Correa," the man patted his chest. "But you can call me Mati. Help you? Heh, I just can't stand those corporate dogs."
Ark raised an eyebrow. "You don't seem like the charitable type."
"Charity?" Matias laughed heartily. "Brother, I've never been a good guy. I just want to be a legend. Think about it—what a great story this would be. 'Matias Correa saved some poor bastard, and together, they toppled the corporate machine.'"
"Legend?" Ark scoffed at the word. "You saved a loser. Hell of a start."
"Hey, don't be so pessimistic." Matias stepped closer, his grin fading slightly. He studied Ark carefully before lowering his voice. "The way you ran just now, like you had nothing to lose—I'm guessing you've got something big in mind, don't you?"
Ark didn't answer, but his silence spoke volumes.
"Good," Matias extended his hand. "How about we team up? Do something real—something big."
Ark eyed his hand, skepticism written all over his face. "And what exactly do you have in mind?"
"We build a crew," Matias' eyes glowed with dangerous excitement. "Find all the people crushed under corporate boots, get them on our side, and hit back hard—make those bastards lose sleep at night."
Ark stared at him for a moment before finally chuckling. "You do realize you're probably the unluckiest bastard alive? One wrong move, and we're both dead."
"But we're still breathing, aren't we?" Matias' grin widened. "And besides, how do you know fate isn't on our side?"
Ark thought for a second, then reached out and shook his hand. "Alright, Mati. Let's go crazy."
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The moment they shook hands, Ark still carried a hint of doubt—but also an inexplicable sense of exhilaration. Unfortunately, that feeling only lasted a few seconds. Just as he turned to leave, his foot landed on a shard of glass, sending him sprawling face-first onto the ground.
"Fuck!" He groaned, clutching his bruised knee. Looking up, he saw Matias doubled over in laughter.
"Brother, you've got some next-level bad luck!" Matias wiped a tear from his eye, still laughing uncontrollably.
Ark rolled his eyes, propping himself up against a wall. "Laugh it up. I just stepped on the demon's landmine. Once the time's up, I'll turn this whole thing around."
"Demon's landmine?" Matias raised an eyebrow, grabbing a broken wooden plank from the ground. With a snap, he split it in two and handed one piece to Ark. "Well then, let's see just how bad it gets before that happens."
"You're nuts," Ark muttered, but he didn't argue. Instead, he found a clean spot, sat down, and pulled out the coin, flipping it idly before slipping it back into his pocket.
For the next forty minutes, Ark fully experienced just how cursed he was. First, a neon sign above them short-circuited and exploded, sending glass shards raining down—barely missing his head. Then, a nearby pipeline suddenly burst, spewing high-pressure steam, forcing them to relocate.
"Brother, your demon curse is insane." Matias shook his head, eyeing a collapsed pedestrian bridge in the distance. "If I hadn't reacted in time, we'd be buried under that thing right now."
Ark ignored him, his gaze fixed on the coin as he muttered, "Just a little longer… It's almost over…"
Finally, the coin's coldness faded, and a wave of relief washed over Ark. He stood, stretching his limbs. "Alright, the demon's gone. Let's find a place to lay low and figure out our next move."
Navigating through abandoned streets, they eventually found a half-collapsed building. It had once been an office for a small company but had long been deserted, its signage faded beyond recognition. Matias shoved open the rusted door, taking in the surroundings before grinning. "Not bad—secluded and livable."
Ark followed him inside, wiping dust off a table. "It'll do. Not like we have options."
As they settled in, their conversation turned serious.
"Brother, we need a name," Matias leaned back in his chair, bouncing his leg. "If we're going to pull off something big, we can't just be a bunch of nobodies."
"A name?" Ark shot him a look, smirking. "As long as it scares the corporate bastards, I don't care what we call it."
"It's gotta have weight—something deep," Matias mused before suddenly slamming his hand on the table. "Got it! 'Seven Sins and Six Desires.' Every person has seven sins and six desires, but we'll use them to tear down these heartless corporations."
Ark blinked, then grinned. "That's crazy… I like it."
Matias stood up, pointing at Ark. "Then you're the boss. I'll be your 'hand.' We start here, make a name for ourselves, and keep growing until those corporate pigs tremble at the mere mention of us."
Ark eyed him, smirking. "You sure know how to assign yourself a cushy role. But fine, I won't fight you for the title. 'Seven Sins and Six Desires'—starting today."
They raised their fists and bumped them together.
And so, in an abandoned office building, a name that would one day shake the Western Continent was born.