Cameraman Never Dies

"You know what, Amber," Judge said, struggling to keep his voice down as an uncontrollable smirk stretched across his face.

"Me, Mom, and Liam are going on a trip," Judge said, struggling to suppress his grin. "Oh, but don't worry, Amber—we'll make sure you're safely tucked away in campus confinement before we leave!"

Amber raised an eyebrow. "You make it sound like I'm a dangerous criminal."

Judge gasped, clutching his chest. "Amber, no! You? A criminal? Pfft. That would require actual rebellion. You're more like… an expensive piece of luggage. Someone's gotta make sure you don't get lost."

"I will bury you alive."

"And I will resurrect just to remind you that I got to go on the trip and you didn't."

Amber's eye twitched. She let out a long, exasperated sigh before facepalming so hard that Judge swore he heard a faint bonk. "Judge, seriously?" She peeked at him through her fingers, her voice laced with exaggerated patience. "Are you actually trying to make me jealous right now?"

Judge clasped his hands together and looked at her with faux innocence. "Moi? Make you jealous? Oh, dear sister, would I ever stoop to such levels?"1

"Must I remind you," Amber continued, ignoring his antics, "that I am not a little child? I am ten. Ten."

Judge tilted his head slightly, observing his sister. Yeah, she was ten. But if someone had to guess, they'd say she was pushing seventeen. Then again, the same applied to him. He was just four years old and already had the look of a brooding teenager who contemplated life's deepest mysteries while standing dramatically in the rain.

"Whatever," he sighed, stuffing his hands behind his head in the universal sign of 'I have completely given up engaging in this nonsense.'

The two siblings continued walking through a narrow alleyway, nearing their home, when suddenly—bam! A towering, muscle-bound brute with the general aura of someone who ate raw meat for fun blocked their path.

"Where d'you think you're goin', kids?" The man cracked his knuckles, his voice deep and gravelly. "This ain't the kinda place for rich brats to be wanderin' around."

Judge glanced down at his entirely non-rich outfit. "Sir, with all due respect, if I was rich, do you think I'd be walking down an alley? I'd be in a fancy carriage, throwing money at people like a dramatic noblewoman on a balcony."

"And I'd be beside him," Amber added, "complaining about how the peasants don't appreciate our generosity."

Judge let out a long-suffering sigh. "Now, who are you supposed to be again? The Blood Hounds? No, wait… the Wolf Hounds? No, that's not it either…"

"Red Hounds," Amber muttered.

"Ah, yes, that." Judge snapped his fingers. "Are you one of them?"

The brute took a swig from a suspiciously grimy bottle. Hopefully, it was alcohol. "Oh? You kids know about us? Yeah, yeah, I'm part of the… uh… the Greeaaat Red Hounds!" He struck a pose like he expected applause.

Judge blinked. "Wow, talk about eccentric."

Deciding that this wasn't worth his time, Judge made an attempt to sidestep the man. He had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn't work. It didn't.

"Not so fast," another man interrupted, slinking out from the shadows. He was leaner but had the unmistakable "I grew up stealing bread" aura. "Leave all your money here, and maybe we'll pretend we never saw you."

Judge raised an eyebrow and turned to his sister. "Do we look like easy targets or something?"

Amber deadpanned, "Yeah, Judge. We're children."

Judge blinked. "Oh, right. But in my defense, we're very tall children."

Amber sighed. "And that is why Mom doesn't let you outside unsupervised."

He sighed dramatically. "Guards!"

Now, technically, neither of them had permission to leave the house. But their ever-loyal, ever-stubborn guards always found a way to track them down. Judge had managed to shake them off once, and they still hadn't forgiven him. Now they stuck to him like an overly attached barnacle.

He honestly had no idea when these people slept. Melina once told him they only needed rest once a month, but the exact timing? He forgot. It was both fascinating and mildly terrifying.

And then there were Amber's guards—two women, one wielding a sword and the other dual-wielding short swords, her guards were just as good as Judge's, but they started their job a long back when Amber turned four.

The second Judge uttered "Guards!" the entire alley transformed into a horror movie for the Red Hounds.

One second, they were standing tall. The next, they were horizontal, they were… gone.

Judge turned to Amber. "Okay, I know I should be concerned about how fast that happened, but I also kinda want to test how fast they can clean up a mess. Like, if I drop my tea cup—"

"Judge, please," Amber sighed.

The street was now eerily quiet, save for the soft rustling of the wind and the faint sound of a bottle rolling away from the brute's lifeless fingers.

The two guards kneeled before him. "Young master."

Judge inhaled deeply, exhaled, and muttered, "You know, I was really looking forward to walking home." He crossed his arms, suddenly feeling put off by the whole thing. "But now? I'm just not in the mood anymore."

He turned to his guards. "Do either of you know teleportation principles?"

"Yes, young master." They spoke in perfect unison.

"Great. Take me to my room."

Judge turned to Amber with a lazy wave. "Bye, sis. See you tomorrow."

And then he vanished.

Amber stood there for a moment, staring at the now empty space where her brother had been.

"...What do you mean 'See you tomorrow'?" she burst out. "We live in the same house! For the lord's sake!"

For reference, by "lord," she meant the Dragon Lord (Her actual grandfather). The Drakonis family refused to acknowledge any gods as superior beings—it was practically written in their blood.

With an annoyed sigh, Amber lifted her hand. "Take me to my room."

Like clockwork, her two guards appeared, clad in a white uniform. "As you wish, young miss."

And just like that, she vanished too.

Moi is "Me" in french