The Heavenly Demon of Terror

[Owen's POV]

The market square was unusually packed today, with street vendors barking out prices and the scent of grilled skewers mixing with sweet buns in the air.

I was just walking through, hands in my coat pockets, trying to stay unnoticed while on my way to grab a quick meal—when, of course, the universe decided to spice up my life again.

"Someone stop him! He's trying to harass me!!"

The voice rang out like a blaring horn through the crowd, and suddenly, all heads turned in my direction.

I blinked. Wait, what?

There she was—a tall, overly dramatic girl with perfectly styled curls, fake tears welling in her eyes as she pointed a trembling finger at me.

The crowd instantly shifted, mumbling and closing in. A few even looked ready to pounce.

I tilted my head. "...Are you sure you're talking about me?"

"You grabbed my wrist and whispered something filthy!" she wailed.

I looked at her hand. "Lady, your wrist's covered in perfume strong enough to tranquilize a yak, and I haven't come within five feet of you."