Isekai'd Into The Wrong World-Chapter 82: Ch - They aren’t my problem

The glass ball glinted in the sunlight as it spun toward them.

For a heartbeat, Ryan was frozen in place.

BOOM.

Another one of the glass balls landed, smashing into a man who held his hands up in a useless attempt to protect himself. The blast tore through him and everyone else around him.

The explosion ripped Ryan out of his paralysis.

Everyone around him were frozen in shock. Brains struggling to catch up with what their eyes could see.

Ryan leaped on top of his chair.

The ball arched. Spinning closer and closer.

BOOM.

Another bomb had found its mark.

And their spot would be next.

Ryan thrust his hands up.

The glass ball hit his palms.

Ryan winced. His breath stopped.

...

He opened his eyes.

"I—caught it."

BOOM.

Another explosion rocked the arena. Ryan lost his footing, and the ball slipped out of his hands.

It came crashing down to the ground beside them.

BOOM.

Another glass ball exploded in the arena.

Eleanor lunged.

But her fingers brushed the glass.

A gust of wind passed by Ryan’s ear.

A calloused hand shot through, catching the sphere.

The man looked up at Ryan. Then he stood, turned, and threw the ball into the arena and away from the crowd.

The sphere fell into a corner of the arena.

BOOM.

The man’s hand firmly clamped around Ryan’s wrist.

"With me. Now."

His voice was like gravel and iron.

Ryan didn’t speak. The man was already pulling him down the aisle, one hand still gripping Ryan’s wrist, the other shoving people aside with ruthlessness.

Ryan caught a glimpse of Eleanor—another man had her arm, bald with a scar bisecting his face from forehead to chin. He was moving her in the opposite direction, toward a different exit.

"Wait—Eleanor!"

"She’s covered!" the man barked. "You worry about staying on your feet!"

James and Jared tried to keep up with Eleanor, but Ryan could see them get split up.

Jeremy had disappeared.

Ryan and the man exited the aisle into the main pathway to the nearest exit.

The crowd swallowed them whole.

People everywhere. Shoulders slammed into Ryan. An elbow flung into his ribs, knocking the wind out of him.

Ryan keeled over, taking in large gasps of air. But he couldn’t pause. The unrelenting crowd just kept pushing forward.

Someone’s hand clawed at his shirt, trying to use him for balance before the current of panic swept them away.

Ryan planted his feet and pushed forward. The man’s grip on his wrist was the only thing keeping him oriented in the chaos.

A woman stumbled in front of them. Ryan tried to reach for her—

The man pulled him past. "You can’t help everyone. Move."

The woman disappeared under the torrent of feet.

Ryan’s stomach turned but the man kept him moving.

BOOM.

Another explosion—but this one came from the far side of the arena. The opposite end from where the elf had been standing.

Ryan’s head snapped toward the sound.

Smoke billowed from multiple areas in the western stands.

There was more than one attacker.

James was right, that elf... he was actually a terrorist. Fuck! We could’ve stopped this! We cou—

"Eyes here!" The man yanked Ryan forward as someone nearly crashed into them. "Focus on me. Just stay with me!"

They reached the stairs.

It was worse than the seats.

The stairwell was a bottleneck—thirty people wide trying to force themselves through a space meant for ten. Bodies pressed so tightly together that Ryan couldn’t lift his arms. Couldn’t breathe properly. The smell was suffocating—sweat and terror and smoke seeped down from above.

Someone screamed.

A man ahead of them collapsed.

The crowd didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. People stepped on him. Over him.

Ryan tried to pull toward the fallen man—

The guard’s grip tightened like a snake. "No."

"He’s—"

"Dead! And if you try to help him, you will be too! Keep moving."

Ryan gritted his teeth and pushed forward.

Each step was a battle. Shoulders wedged between strangers. Feet finding purchase on stone that might have been steps or might have been someone’s leg. The press of bodies made every breath shallow and insufficient.

A child was crying somewhere to Ryan’s left. He couldn’t see them. Couldn’t reach them. Just heard the wailing getting more distant as the crowd carried him in the opposite direction.

BOOM.

The arena shook. Dust rained down from the ceiling of the stairwell. Someone above screamed that the structure was collapsing—whether it was true or not... that didn’t matter. The crowd surged harder, faster and more desperate.

Ryan’s foot slipped on something wet. He caught himself on the man’s arm.

The man didn’t even look back. Just kept moving and pulling Ryan with the same relentless momentum.

Another three steps. Then five. Then ten.

The press of bodies began to loosen. Not by much, but just enough so that Ryan could move his arms again. Could turn his head.

They were near the exit now. Daylight ahead. The crowd spread ou as it hit open air.

BOOM.

Far end of the arena again.

How many bombs do they have?

The guard pulled Ryan through the archway and onto the street.

The sunlight hit Ryan’s face like a slap. After the dark, crushing press of the stairwell, the open air felt too clean, too bright.

People flooded the streets in every direction. Some running. Some collapsed on the cobblestones, hands over their faces, shoulders shaking. Others just stood still, staring back at the arena with blank, unmoving eyes.

A man staggered past, blood streaming from a cut above his eye. He didn’t seem to notice.

"This way." The guard was already moving, angling toward a narrow side street where the crowd thinned.

Ryan looked back. He searched through the chaos for Eleanor. For James. For any of them.

He couldn’t see them.

"They’ll be fine," the guard said, reading his expression. "Come on."

"Who are you?" Ryan asked.

The man glanced at him. His face was weathered, lined with old scars that spoke of violence survived. His eyes were flat even with the situation they were in.

"I’m one of Gregory’s men."

"Where’s Eleanor?"

"Daveth had her. He’ll get her clear."

"And the others? James? Jared?"

"They aren’t our problem." The man turned down the side street. "You and the girl. That’s the job." 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Ryan followed, but his jaw tightened. Not their problem. James, Jared... Jeremy, they are no less important than me. It’s my fault they were there... we should’ve gone to the top stands. I brought them th—

BOOM.