Time to Kill - 1

Crouching behind the foliage, he considered his next move.

'Should I follow them? They should be heading out of the forest... The skills of those two are subpar; they can't be adventurers here to explore. This place is too dangerous for them. Then... they must be slave traders. Slave trading... they could lead me to the underworld.' Ron mulled over the situation.

He was clueless about the bigger picture, but he was certain they planned to sell the kid—he'd heard them say as much. Ron calmly got up and scanned his surroundings. Seeing no immediate threat, he followed the trio's trail. The big guy's footsteps were hard to miss.

Keeping a safe distance, Ron moved stealthily, aware that the sword guy was likely sensitive to disturbances. He saw them talking but couldn't hear the conversation. After about ten minutes, Ron saw them join a larger group that had made camp.

The most intriguing sight was the cage on wheels filled with multiple children.

"Senior brother, we are back!" the sword guy called out to a man perched atop the cage.

The man was intimidating, with a large scar across his mouth and a thick beard.

"Ohhhh! You found him! Gud, gud! We can't let our precious itims ge' los' after all," the bearded man said in a strange accent. He jumped down from the cage and motioned for the sumo to put the kid down.

The kid, trembling with fear, looked up at the bearded man who scratched his beard thoughtfully.

"Naw, wha' should I do? I can't just let ya go unpunished... or the other kids, ya know will start thinking they can act like ya. So...? wha' shall be yo fate?" The bearded man grinned wickedly at the demihuman boy.

"S-sorry, sir! Hic! I-I won't run away again! Please! Hic! P-please spare me!" The boy clutched the bearded man's legs, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Ah... fuckry sake... This is troublesome," the bearded man said, kicking the boy away with a snort.

"ACK!"

"Should I kill him, boss?" the sword guy asked.

"Hmm? Na... na, we can't jus' kill our merkundise ya dipshi'. They're important for our business," the bearded man replied.

Hearing this, the boy kowtowed in relief and excitement. He had been spared! But this bearded uncle is so intimidating!

"Thank you, sir! I will do as you tell me from now on! I won't run away again!"

But then...

CRUNCH

"AHHHHHH!!!!!! MY LEG!!!!!!!" The bearded man had just crushed the boy's other leg under his boot.

"Naw you truly can't run. Hahahaha! Put him in the caige! Don't forge' the chainss!"

"Y-yes, boss!"

The boss motioned for the sword guy to approach, and the sword guy obliged. From his hiding spot, Ron strained to hear their conversation.

All the while, Ron analyzed the situation. 'Four... seven... nine. Nine traders and twelve kids.

Catching children in the forest? Wait... these kids must be abandoned here! Just like me, they must have been thrown away. And these guys are catching them down.'

Then he heard something that made his head throb.

"Alright, guys, listen up!!" the sword guy clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "We have almost all the kids! Three were found dead! Now only two kids remain! One of which is a noble kid, so it shouldn't be hard to find them! We setting off tomorrow! Find them before then, and we'll have a party in the village!! Now Rest and move in two hours!"

"OOOO!!!" the group cheered at the mention of a party.

'Fuck!! These shitheads! I have to run!' Ron thought.

He retreated silently, and thought of his choices.

He had a head start of two hours, and he had to make it count. He needed to ensure his survival or come up with a plan to kill them all.

Ron's mind raced as he navigated through the dense jungle, determination fueling his every step.

Reaching the spot where he had submerged the vines earlier, he took a long, refreshing sip from the river, feeling the cool water course down his throat, revitalizing his weary body.

He looked around at the serene surroundings—a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him. The river flowed gently, its surface reflecting the dappled sunlight filtering through the forest canopy. Birds chirped melodiously, and the occasional rustle of leaves hinted at unseen creatures going about their day.

Setting to work, Ron retrieved the vines from the water, laying them out on a flat rock. He began to beat them, breaking down the fibers to make them pliable.

The rhythmic sound of his work blended with the natural symphony around him. It was a laborious task, but one he performed with meticulous care. After an hour of focused effort, winding the fibers together he had a sturdy length of rope.

"Now, the plan..." he muttered to himself, eyes scanning the forest around him. This forest likely held a plethora of poisonous plants, a resource he could turn into a weapon.

'Although I could just set the forest on fire, that would destroy my future business resources and maybe an enemy out of the demigod here. He must be bored right? Let's leave a memory then,' he thought, a wry smile playing on his lips.

Ron stripped off his clothes, feeling a brief shiver as the cool air touched his skin. He tore parts of his shirt to fashion a makeshift mask, covering his face to protect against the toxic fumes he would make. then covered his entire body in mud and clay, ensuring no part was left exposed. The sticky, cold mud clung to him, but it was a necessary discomfort.

With his clothes wet, he covered them with another layer of mud, creating a protective barrier of three layers.

Setting off into the forest, moving silently through the undergrowth. The flora here were not so different from those on Earth. Some plants were familiar, but there were also many more varieties, including species long extinct back home.

"You don't know who you've messed with," Eyes narrowing as he moved with purpose. "In a forest, a treasure trove of deadly poisons, you are bound to be dead."

Ron searched the area diligently, collecting various plants, also some fruits and berries to stave off his hunger.

He found datura, with its toxic properties, and anise to attract beasts. He harvested peyote to induce hyperactivity in creatures and some poisonous seeds and dried parts of other deadly flora.

Ron then set to work grinding and mixing. 

He crafted crude but effective dispersal mechanisms from leaves and vines, creating makeshift sachets to release the poisons when burned.

The sun had started to come down and the traders were also were on the way.

"Now It's time to kill."