The boy had been a person of few words. Up until this point, the only things that had come out of his mouth was spit and inexpressible yells. That, precisely was why Camille had next to zero clue as to what he would do. Was he introverted, weird, or maybe some sadistic pervert?

For all Camille knew, he could have been any. But even with these open possibilities presented, what he said next still shook Camille down to her very core.

"I am very sorry for all this trouble." He would comment with a tilt of his head. "Are you alright, madam?"

Dumbfounded, Camille's first instinct was to scratch her chin.

"I'm pretty alright. No wounds, no nothing. Boy."

In response to being called a madam, which she thought was a title reserved for elderly ladies or headmistresses, she countered by calling him, boy. A term that she imagined would have been put off by claims of being a grand magician or professional.

Unfortunate for her, though, he took it in stride. Without a response, all he did was remain silent. Awkward, Camille tried to conjure up something to dispel the stillness. However, despite a dozen seconds or so passing, she was still unable to.

And the boy, given his great deal of patience, emptily stared back through the two empty black sockets where his eyes should have been. Without a single extra word or movement, it was all very peculiar.

Camille, having finally remembered that she was supposed to ask questions instead of being a bumbling idiot, chose to do just that.

"First things first. What's your name?"

"Molok."

"Are you here to kill me?"

"No."

"Are you actually a teenager?"

"Yes."

Suffer as her pride did at being saved by a teenager, Camille released a short sigh of disappointment. She considered the possibility that he was in fact some two thousand year old anomaly masquerading as a young boy. Though that was largely a trend in entertainment, the chances of it happening in real life weren't impossible if anything.

Alas, Camille was quite determined to save her pride. While not one to doubt, or much less shame someone for saving her, the fact that it had been a mere boy of perhaps fourteen of fifteen years of age was something.

Well, besides that, Camille was somewhat satisfied. With those three queries out of the way, she could now move onto more important matters. At the bare minimum, the boy was no imminent threat. And while she knew the stupidity behind asking a potential killer whether they were one, something about his response put her at ease. Betraying a sense of innocence in his words, Camille wondered if it was the work of genuine goodness or her own delusions. Quietly, Camille expressed her confusion with a somewhat distraught sigh.

"So, uh, yeah."

Crap. Why was that what she said? Now that she thought about it, asking questions was harder than she thought it would be. Information was a scarcity, sure, but that didn't really make a difference. It was as if she was handed a dictionary and asked to choose her top hundred favourite words.

"W-why are you saving me, yes? Why are you saving me?" Camille repeated her question twice. Once while still unsure if it was the right one, and the next while being certain that it was.

"I am saving you because it is my obligation to do so."

Lovely. A charity worker. Next, he would start talking and preaching about compassion and justice for all of humanity. Camille silently swallowed her mild displeasure and nodded. This was not the time to complain about someone who just saved your life, and plus, as far as she's concerned, his 'obligation' very well could have been to sacrifice her to some demon god or something.

"Would you prefer if I give a rundown of everything thus far to you? I do not mean to pry, but you seem a little distressed." Said in a tone free of any mockery or derision, it was instead carried in the same exact manner as before.

For some reason, Camille envisioned a pure smile underneath his cryptic mask. Reminded of Morgan, a close friend who belonged to the small category of individuals known as 'good people', Camille could not bring herself to be angry.

"Yes, go ahead. I am very, very distressed and unable to ask, much less speak."

The boy's head tilted ever so slightly underneath the robes. Camille didn't really know why, but she guessed that it was because he was thinking.

"Would you prefer I apply some medicine to ease your pain before I explain?"

Did he not understand her sarcasm, or was he just playing a joke?

Cause honestly, she had no clue. Underneath his mask and cloak, where his body and facial gestures were hidden, Camille was forced to rely on voice alone.

Annoyed, Camille was now ready to insult him and his weird way of talking. Heaving a heavy sigh under her breath, she was just ready to do so. Then just as quick as she had come to anger, she had dispelled it. Deciding in a split second that he probably meant well, Camille chose to instead still insult him, but this time, in a humorous tone.

"Yo-."

Unfortunately, Camille would never get the opportunity to finish her sentence.

In the time that she had spent thinking this over, the taxi had stopped dead in its tracks. Arriving at their destination, the time for payment had come. Relieved, Camille was ready to pay. Her hands in her pockets, she hunted through its seemingly endless dimensions for a few moments before stopping.

Ah, right.

How could she forget? She literally didn't even carry money. After all, the last time she had gone outside with a coat was when she went to the fight ring, which just so happened to not need a wallet.

Molok, who did not even turn to Camille for funds, was shuffling underneath his coat. The sound of coins and paper bills resonated throughout the small car before a bill came out from underneath his robes.

Generous as he was, wasn't this too much? In sheer disbelief, Camille was astonished. Was the boy really about to pay a fee well worth ten times the fare?

As if to discourage him from doing so, Camille began to stroke her chin in great intensity. But, to no avail, the transaction had already been completed.

In shambles, Camille took a moment to accept the quick disappearance of such a large sum of money. The fact that all that cash which could have been spent on three boxing bags or many nights at good restaurants was instead being given haphazardly to some random nobody destroyed her.

Answering the driver's thanks with a brisk nod, Molok simply exited the car.

Out of everything that had taken place over that eventful day to Camille, this was the single-handedly greatest surprise of them all.

"What is up with this kid..."

Camille, who sighed again, then left her car. Positioned before the precise location she had asked for, Camille looked up.

The two were now in one of the busiest places in Greyville. Famous for its many electronic, video game, and dare it to be added, anime-related attractions, it was the haven of the contemporary geek.

While diplomatic relationships behind and between the countries that pioneered in such technologies were less than pleasant, the government made no effort to care. Money, as it were, no matter where it came from, was loved all the same.

And, Camille, while thinking of politicians as nothing but weak, cowardly fools for not standing up for their agenda, at the same time appreciated it.

After all, this was a place that Camille had unabashedly visited on more than one occasion. Though the reason behind her travel this time would not be for pleasure, she figured it was as good a place as any. Crowds of all sorts of folk, whether it be those covered in techwear, cosplay or cybernetics, surrounded the entire area.

The main reasoning behind choosing this place was due to its sheer diversity in aesthetics. If they knew they were here, it shouldn't be easy to find her. And even if they did, then they would have to go through thousands of people first. Thousands of potentially dangerous people armed with potentially large amounts of guns. Provided that they were even willing to risk collateral damage in the first place.

Checking her side to see if the boy was still there, Camille grabbed onto his hand. Clasped firmly within her palm, she looked at him with sobriety.

"Hold it tight. There's a lot of people here, so I don't want you getting lost."

As a response, Moloch nodded. The incentive for her to march on, the two then plunged into the midst of the crowd. Into the heart of the district which she so cherished, Camille remained blissfully unaware of the dangers that lay ahead.