The runic device ended up working successfully—just not in the way she expected.

  One of the exits from the underground sewer was suddenly lit up by a burst of light. From it, a girl came tumbling down into the filthy water.

  Even though it wasn’t too deep, it was enough to get her soaked.

  — That’s the last time I trust this thing, — she grumbled, vanishing in that manner —

  The sewers? Seriously? That was the only escape route? You’ll pay for this, Aidan…

  Unbelievable—and to think I had just taken a bath, only to get filthy all over again!

  Mentally, the red-haired girl lamented her current state and cursed her companion who had put her in that situation—even if he wasn’t directly to blame.

  After a long walk through an unfamiliar path that took nearly an hour, even though she was in the sewers, she actually knew them well. It wasn’t her first time down there, but she definitely hoped it would be the last. Though a convenient escape route, it was far from pleasant for many reasons.

  After finding the exit, she slipped through a wider entrance on the other side of an overpass.

  This place is a mess—but thankfully, it's accessible for us.

  Before it was sealed, the water level here used to rise pretty high. Access through this path was almost impossible—and, of course, the folks up top never bothered to fix it.

  When it comes to this city, there’s a clear divide between the nobles and, well, regular folks. Which we are not.

  Being at the lowest part of the place, let’s just say this is our hideout—or better yet, our home.

  The area was covered with vines, but she already knew it was just a projection illusion to make the place look older. Entering the hideout, she spotted Aidan—her companion—welding something with an improvised blowtorch. Upon seeing him, she stomped toward him, fury etched on her face.

  — "You took your time... let me guess, judging by the smell—you used the sewer route, didn’t yo—Ouch!" — he quipped sarcastically before receiving a slap to the back of the head —

  — "The sewers?! Are you serious? You programmed it to toss me into the sewers?!" — she yelled, slamming the device on the table —

  — "You know how it works, don’t you? Working with fragmented runes comes at a price," — he replied, picking it up —

  — "A price?! That thing almost left me stranded today—those guards nearly caught me!"

  — "I told you not to rely on a prototype. It’ll only be more effective with an authentic rune. Still, it wasn’t a total failure... right?"

  Still angry, she pulled a mirror and a crystal out of her pocket—used to store her stolen loot—and tossed them to him. Pressing the crystal, Aidan released a pile of books, a metal piece, and a few essential supplies.

  — "Seriously? Candy and snacks?! You know you can’t mix that with the books, you idiot!" — he scolded her after seeing her careless stash —

  — "And do I look like I care?! I had to walk through the sewer for half an hour because of you! If something had gotten ruined, it would’ve been the least of your punishments compared to what I went through!" — she shouted —

  — "Okay, okay, my bad! As compensation, I’ll cook dinner tonight." — he offered, trying to make peace —

  — "Hmph. A half-assed dinner isn’t enough. You could’ve at least fixed this for once."

  She removed her cloak, revealing her left arm—a worn-out runic prosthesis with rusty joints and stiff movement.

  — "You know I don’t have the parts. Or the materials. It’s already a miracle it even moves in that state." — he muttered after taking a look at it —

  — "Whatever. Didn’t you say you’d fix the capacitor, or whatever that is? You could’ve used it to get me away from the guards. But instead, I had to go the traditional route." — she mentioned, referencing her unexpected scuffle —

  — "What? Magic? You know not just anyone can do that, right? Especially someone who isn’t nobility."

  — "I know. But this isn’t over yet. Ugh, if this arm had better parts, I could’ve handled it so much faster," — she muttered, sitting down —

  — "Well, your socket's pretty limited, and I’m no prosthetic expert. If you keep doing reckless stuff with that arm, it could literally explode—and I mean that literally. So stop pushing your luck." — he warned —

  — "Hey... my arm might be falling apart, but I can still punch your face in with one hand." — she threatened —

  — "Yeah, yeah..."

  Tzz. Crash!

  With a small tool, he pressed a piece on the prosthetic and easily disconnected it from Sophie.

  — "If you can’t take care of yourself with a prosthetic, imagine a real arm." — Aidan teased —

  — "Shut up..."

  He then fitted a cap over the connector where her prosthesis had been.

  — "Go take a bath. I’ll see what I can do." — he suggested —

  — "Is the water at least hot?" — she asked —

  — "Beats me."

  [...]

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  It’s good to be back—even if the stench was a nightmare. I managed to wash it off, though. Sadly, I’ll have to ditch my clothes for now and use the spares, which are in awful condition too. But hey, what do you expect in a place like this?

  Our space is limited—it is an overpass, after all. We don’t have a proper bathroom, but thanks to Aidan and his runic knowledge, which he loves to brag about from time to time, we’ve got a water purifier. With a few resources I “found,” he managed to improvise one for our tub. It uses a different water system than the ones in houses up top. The water’s usually cold, but you don’t need soap—the purified water cleans your body entirely, removing the smell... even if it doesn’t leave you feeling particularly “fresh.”

  Even though Aidan knows how to survive in the streets too, his mobility isn’t great. In short, he’s not the athletic type—so that part falls on me. I handle the dirty work, and he deals with all the science behind the runes. He always tells me anyone can learn it with their eyes closed if they just pay attention... but I think I’ll pass.

  Unlike me, he can’t use magic. His mana is enough to manipulate runes, but only with their help. Like he said, only a few nobles have access to magic. I’m one of the rare exceptions. That’s the common belief, anyway—most people can’t use it, but there are exceptions.

  You could say we’re both rare cases... and kind of hopeless.

  Unfortunately, we don’t have access to certain luxuries that even average folks do—like a proper home. Everything here is built from scrap—or rather, his “creations,” which are basically piles of old gears and rusty junk put together to resemble machines. We rely heavily on runes. They’re full of magic and power everything.

  They’re made by refining raw magical stones into a more usable form. Technology only advanced because of them. Even though they’re common, we had to steal a few—or dig through trash. They're often discarded by adventurers or knights, whether in fragments or outdated gear. That’s where Aidan’s brains come in—he sorts them for us to use.

  That prosthetic? He’s the one who upgraded it for me. I lost my arm in a tragic accident—at least that’s what they told me at the orphanage. I was given a runic artificial arm. Since it was a poor place, the original version was extremely basic and far inferior to the one I use now. Eswain may be fair in its distribution, but that doesn’t mean everyone has access to something good.

  But I don’t complain. It’s not big, but it’s not uncomfortable either. Unlike a normal home, everything here is in one room—if you can call it that. Except, of course, for our “bathroom.” It’s one big improvisation, but we manage. Cleanliness, though... yeah, that’s an issue.

  Everything else—our kitchen, living area, bedroom, and his workshop—are all crammed into a single space. And by “crammed,” I mean it’s a total mess.

  After her bath, Sophie changed into old clothes while her others were drying. She dried her hair with a worn-out towel, wearing a thin shirt and short shorts.

  She made her way to an old carved wooden table in the center of the hideout. On it, there was a plate.

  — "What’s this?" — she asked, eyeing the food suspiciously —

  — "Well, since you somehow managed to steal candy from a vendor, I made something you might like. Or not," — he said after hurriedly putting together a dish —

  It wasn’t easy—I had to tag along with some kids and sneak in quietly. Of course, I couldn’t grab much since I was being watched. But what I did get was enough. Two chocolate bars, a pack of cookies, a few caramels—not what I wanted... all those sugary sweets... a shame I wasn’t more daring.

  He melted the chocolate and caramel and poured it over the cookies, sticking them together. On the first bite, I realized it wasn’t a bad combo.

  — "Not bad. Still doesn’t redeem you, though..." — she said while munching on something she clearly enjoyed —

  — "Yeah, yeah... just come over here." — he called out —

  Wearing protective goggles—one lens cracked—he kept working on a machine. Using a part Sophie had acquired, he made the final adjustments and closed it. Since it wasn’t in the best shape, he gave it a smack, forcing it to turn on.

  — "Haha! It’s working!" — the boy cheered —

  Two weeks ago, he bargained with a junk dealer for a broken potion refining machine. He believed he could upgrade it to synthesize as well. When he showed up with it and spent our savings, I nearly beat him up. That’s why I had to hit the streets again... “to work.”

  — "Sigh... All our savings—gone. Sold secondhand parts... for secondhand junk? This thing’s wrecked!" — she criticized the machine’s appearance —

  — "This, my friend, will make us money. We can get ingredients cheap and sell potions up top for a high price. That’s what they call an investment, right? Heard a merchant say that—it sounded cool." — he grinned, amused —

  — "Pfft, clearly a pro," — she replied sarcastically — "But if this breaks, don’t you dare come to me with another one of your crazy ideas!" — she warned —

  — "Of course not. Once I fix something, it lasts a long time." — he boasted —

  — "Sure... just like my arm. Have you even looked at it?" — she asked, staring at him across the table —

  — "Good news—it’ll keep moving. A little oil in the joints should do the trick, but we’ll need to replace those parts soon. Might last a few more months."

  Plop!

  When he warned the girl, one of the fingers from his mechanical arm ended up falling to the floor.

  — "Or maybe even less..." — he said, redoing his mental calculations —

  — "Just do your magic, I promise I won’t use it recklessly." — Sophie promised —

  — "You promise?" — he asked directly —

  — "I’ll try..." — she said, uncertain —

  ...

  Night had fallen, and they were both finishing up their chores.

  Sophie continued with her daily exercises, doing push-ups with her only arm, while Aidan kept up with his usual nighttime reading.

  A small improvised lamp, rebuilt by him, lit the place. Occasionally, it flickered due to its damaged rune.

  Some time passed, and it was time for both of them to lie down.

  After getting ready, the two of them lay on the floor, each wrapped in an old blanket and surrounded by old newspapers.

  With that, my exercises were done, though I could have rested since I had to run a lot during the day.

  The problem is sleeping with this connector. Although, using the prosthetic is even more uncomfortable. It's not easy for someone missing a limb—especially when the pain comes.

  — "Hey, Sophie..."

  — "Hm?"

  — "You know, I was wondering... is this enough for the two of us?" — he asked her the same question —

  — "Oh please, don’t come at me with those philosophical questions right now..." — she replied, trying to deflect — "Don’t tell me that came from those new books?"

  — "I’m being serious, you dork. Living with worn-out runes, junk tech, the occasional theft—is that really what makes us happy?" — he asked, going even deeper —

  — "What’s wrong? Are you tired of this life?"

  — "I’m just wondering, you know? We went through different things, but we ended up meeting by chance and now we share the same life. But couldn’t things be a little different?"

  — "I don’t know. It felt like things were going to change for us anyway. Remember the orphanage?" — she asked —

  — "Kind of. We left that place a few years ago, didn’t we?"

  — "We were still kids, eleven or twelve—I don’t even remember. But they didn’t even notice we were gone. I mean, we weren’t the first to disappear, but they didn’t even try. Maybe they thought we wouldn’t last more than a few days and would end up coming back, right? But look at us now!"

  — "Lying on old newspapers?" — he pointed out their current situation —

  — "Yeah... but even if it’s not the conventional lifestyle, it’s better than nothing, right?" — she tried to convince him with a fake sense of optimism —

  — "Yeah... maybe you’re right." — he agreed, unsure — "But what would a normal life even look like to you?"

  Normal life?

  — "Hmm... I don’t know. I never really thought about it. But I can picture you as one of those snobs from the Grand Academy." — she said with the clear intention to tease him —

  — "What a shallow image you have of me." — he challenged her view —

  — "After today, you don’t want to know what else I think of you."

  — "Seriously? You’re still holding a grudge?" — he looked at her, mocking her reaction —

  — "Maybe. But until then, let’s just keep living this ‘life’." — she gestured air quotes with her only hand —

  — "It’s all we can do for now, isn’t it?"

  — "That’s it, then. Good night. Tomorrow will be a long day for us." — Sophie said, turning to her side —

  — "Just like every day." — Aidan replied, turning to the other side —

  They ended their conversation. Aidan put his book aside and Sophie settled down to sleep. Then he turned off the old lamp and they both fell asleep.

  Double Trouble)