“I got you.” A low hoarse voice drifts to her ears.

Emma lifts her head, making eye contact with the soft hazel pupils of a middle aged man. Streaks of grey could be seen mixed in with his black hair. His stature can be described as average. Muscles could be seen outlining his uniform, especially when his arms flex while carrying Emma in a princess style fashion.

Emma’s automatic reaction is to push her body off, but she finds that her strength is miserly compared to his.

In Emma’s whole life, the only man to have held her in a princess style carrying position was her dad. That was when she was still a young girl. When Emma was younger, she always felt happy, safe and loved when she was with her dad.

The current situation doesn’t give her that feeling her dad used to give her. Emma is thankful for the man’s help, but she feels uncomfortable in this stranger’s arms.

It doesn’t help that the man’s facial expression scares her. He has a slight smile on his face as he faces her, but it seems unnatural. From Emma’s perspective, the middle aged man has a naturally stern facial structure that a smile can’t soften. Multiple small scars are etched onto his face, and his bushy eyebrows doesn’t make him look very nice.

But Emma knows that this man caught her when she was falling, and feels good will from his honest expression. It’s just that this occurred so fast and out of nowhere that she feels a bit panicked.

Before this incident, Emma was a Senior in college. She has interacted with a diverse group of people in her three and a half years while studying, and this eventually allowed her to see the different personalities that people have.

She can’t tell if this man is a completely good guy at the moment, but she does have a good impression of him for now.

Calming down a bit, Emma stops struggling. She looks at the face of the man that’s carrying her and meets his eyes.

“Thank you.” Emma says weakly. She wishes that she could speak with more strength, but everything that has occurred has drained the energy from her.

“A strong heart.” The man only says these words. He lifts his head and looks at the two hooligans, the soft gaze of his eyes becomes sharp.

“Bullying an old man and a little girl. I guess that’s all you two are good for.” The man bends down, allowing Emma to stand on the ground. Emma watches the back of the man as he walks towards the two men and unsheathes the sword that’s hanging on his waist.

The two hooligans back up. Fear could be seen on their faces. “W..we were just playing,” stutters the young man with the scar.

Playing? Emma’s anger rises when she heard his words. Beating up defenceless people counts as playing? Emma really wants to kick him harder in the same spot. These guys should get arrested.

Emma’s eyes drifts to the sharp sword that the middle aged man is holding. Why is he holding a weapon? She’s pretty sure that people aren’t allowed to have sharp real swords in public. Does this guy want to get arrested too? Even if it’s to scare the two hooligans, isn’t this a bit too much?

Emma opens her mouth, wanting to warn the middle aged man that he shouldn’t take out a sword in public. Before she could say anything, the middle aged man has already arrived in front of the two hooligans and slashes at them.

Shock. Emma feels pure shock as she sees blood gushing out from the two hooligan’s throat. This guy is a murderer?

A small sound escapes from Emma’s mouth as it hangs open.

This is the first time Emma has seen someone die in front of her. She’s never seen so much blood coming out of a person in her life. Emma doesn’t even like donating blood, because she’s scared that she’ll faint from seeing too much blood come out.

Emma’s legs shake violently and collapses on her. No strength could hold her up.

But Emma doesn’t faint. She stares at the dead bodies of the two hooligans, but jolts as she sees the middle aged man turn towards her.

He starts to walk in a slow manner towards her direction. “First time seeing someone get killed?” He says while looking at her.

Emma tries to back away, but she has no strength to.

“You’re scared. Was my judgement wrong?” says the man. The first part is for Emma, but the second part seemed to be said for himself.

“You killed them.” Emma says in a barely audible voice.

“If I didn’t kill them, they would’ve come back for revenge on you and him.” He says while pointing at the old man.

“But the officers would have arrested them. You killed them, so they’ll come for you too,” says Emma.

Emma doesn’t want to interact with this man, but he’s now standing right in front of her. She’s scared. She says this hoping that he’ll leave quickly.

Emma avoids looking the man in the eyes, so she doesn’t see the puzzled expression on the man’s face.

“I am an officer,” says the man.

Huh? Emma looks at the man, and notices his uniform. It’s the same type of uniform the the two men from before wore.

The two men from before really were officers? This killer is also an officer? Is this uniform really the ones that officers wear?

Neither the men from before or this man in front of her act like real officers. The two from before are most likely corrupt and this one is a killer.

Aren’t officers supposed to uphold justice. They aren’t supposed to act violently if the evildoers aren’t retaliating. The hooligans from before didn’t put up any resistance, but this man killed them.

Nothing makes sense.

Blood rushes to Emma’s head as her brain is overloading from thinking. Her weak body can’t handle the extra stress that has been building up. Black spots start appearing in Emma’s vision before everything goes black. The rest of her body slumps onto the floor as she faints.