Zeno broke into a sprint.
There were screams and chaos behind him, but he tuned them out. His legs moved like clockwork, the sidewalk a blur beneath his feet.
His hair, previously a little tousled from the wind, now looked like it had been styled for a slow-motion shampoo commercial. He zipped past shocked pedestrians, dodging food carts, toddlers, pigeons—whatever fate threw his way—with ease.
Ahead, the clown burglar was still running full speed, zigzagging through the crowd. He was actually pretty fast. Fast enough that people had given up.
Except someone hadn’t.
The clown thief felt it.
That strange, crawling feeling at the back of his neck.
The crowd was still screaming behind, but something was different. The pounding of one pair of feet was consistent.
’No way,’ he thought. No one should be that fast. He only stole a bag! A tiny, tiny bag! It wasn’t even designer! He had done this trick three times this week, and not once did someone chase him like this.
“Is that…?” someone gasped behind them. “Is that guy holding a dog?”
Zeno, indeed, was still running. Faster than he had in a while. He sighed mid-run, shaking his head. What was it with him and bad luck? Couldn’t a man enjoy some ice cream with his hellhound in peace?
And the crowd wasn’t thinning either. Instead, they were gaining momentum like some mob at a K-pop fan meet. Phones were out. Videos were being taken. One guy even had a boom mic. When did this become a live broadcast?
– Dang, there’s a speed chase on the street where I live!
– Does that guy have a petite Golden Retriever?
– They’re going so fast.
– It’s not supposed to be funny, but I want to laugh.
To make things worse, red and blue lights were now flashing on the road beside them. The police cars were following after them. Although they hadn’t gotten out of their cars, they just continued to cheer for Zeno.
He narrowed his eyes. Shouldn’t they be the ones doing the chasing?
“You got this, buddy!” one of them even shouted.
Meanwhile, Maxie was sprinting too. Her little demon legs moved so fast she looked like a brown blur with bows. A few kids watching the chase gasped in admiration.
“Look at that little doggy go!”
“She’s turbo-powered!”
But Maxie was not about to let Zeno get all the glory. She yapped once, a command only Zeno could understand.
He turned and sighed. “Fine, demon.”
In one fluid motion, he bent down, scooped her up, and cradled her in one arm like a furry football. With his other arm pumping, he bolted forward at an even faster speed. His eyes were locked on the clown thief, who was now gasping for breath, his shoes slapping against the pavement.
Behind them, the crowd collectively gasped.
“WOAH!”
“Did you see that pickup?!”
“Someone call the Olympics!”
Maxie wagged her tail, chest puffed out in pride.
The clown was just about to turn the corner when he felt a sudden burst of wind behind him.
It was too late.
Zeno had reached him. His legs didn’t stop.
He let Maxie down, and her eyes narrowed. In an instant, she launched herself forward and chomped directly onto the clown’s butt.
“AGHHHHH!” the clown screamed, flailing in pain.
That was Zeno’s cue.
He seized the clown’s wrist, twisted his arm behind his back, and with one sweeping motion, flipped the man over. The clown flew into the air, arms and legs pinwheeling, before landing flat on his back with a wheeze.
Zeno stood over him, bag in hand, Maxie still growling protectively beside him.
The crowd exploded into cheers.
“OH MY GOD!”
“HE GOT HIM!”
“That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”
The police cars finally came to a stop, officers stumbling out, also excited by the turn of events.
Zeno pursed his lips as he looked around. Well, this was definitely more than a crowd. This felt like a fan meeting. Although the people still didn’t recognize him.
Good. Good.
With that, he grabbed the purse from the clown and walked toward the old woman. “Here’s your stolen purse.”
Maxie let go of the clown’s butt with a proud bark.
“Thank you, young man!” the old woman from earlier squeaked, breathless but beaming. “You saved my whole life. Everything’s in that bag—my wallet and my insulin!”
Zeno tried to give a polite nod and slide away, but she grabbed his wrist and slapped some bills in his hand.
“I can’t accept this, ma’am,” he said quickly, pushing it back, only for her to shove it harder into his pocket.
“Take it!” she demanded. “Buy that dog another dog!”
Oh, he cannot handle another dog.
A small group started clapping. Then, the clapping turned into full applause.
A street musician nearby, who had been busking, even began to play a heroic guitar riff while people surrounded Zeno and Maxie like they were in the final scene of a superhero movie.
“Such a good young man,” one auntie sniffed.
A camera light blinded him from the left. Before Zeno could escape, reporters had arrived like vultures.
“This is now livestreaming on ZNN,” one reporter said breathlessly, her eyes wide as she pushed through the crowd.
“Sir! Sir! Can we have a moment? You flipped the suspect. Who are you? What drove you to heroism today?”
Zeno sighed as Maxie sat at his feet like a smug queen.
He leaned closer to the mic and muttered, “I was just trying to eat my ice cream.”
The reporter looked at him with surprise. ” I-I’m sorry?”
“I was trying to eat my ice cream,” he repeated, louder. “That’s literally all I wanted to do today. But this clown ruined the peace.”
The reporter laughed nervously. “Haha! What an eccentric sense of humor. So tell us, sir, you were incredibly fast, and your technique was great. Did you perhaps have prior training? Do you, by any chance, come from a law enforcement background? Military? Or maybe you’re a vigilante?”
“I do leg day,” Zeno said flatly. “And I like naps.”
– That dog actually looks familiar.
– I was about to feed my dog, and that dog looked like the dog in front of the dog food that my dog likes eating.
– Is that a tongue twister?
The reporter tilted her head, frowning slightly now as she finally focused on his face.
“Wait.”
Oh no.
Her hand dropped the mic slightly, and her voice lowered in disbelief.
“Zeno Han?”