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Is It Wrong to Cook in a Dungeon?

He was deprived of his dream during his past life. But now, he had another chance, an ongoing chance that shall never end. He'd no need to swallow a finger, nor to cover his eyes, nor did he have to be a hero. All that mattered was that his knives were sharp, and his sorcery sharper still. Perhaps a fraud he maybe, but life was rarely ever fair. Fortunately, favour was on his side. And though he was under some obligation as was the terms of his contract, what real trouble was it in the long run. For all around him would die...and he would survive as the culmination of his own legacy. Born of no mother or father, able to do as he pleased, what was better for him than to be acknowledge in the Labyrinth City as the King of Cooks, as per his lost dream? "Domain Expansion: Malevolent Kitchen"

Vulkizaro_Zoromi · Tranh châm biếm
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25 Chs

Highway Brigandry

A.N. This is story was requested by one of my followers. He's called Kreig on Webnovel...take your issues up with him.

Sorry Kreig :p

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If one were to just stumble into a certain clearing in a particular forest, they'd find what looked to be...well some would consider it a murder scene, or a freak scene, or perhaps just a hunter's butchering scene. Though as for that last one, it would be a hard conclusion to come to as a first thought because of the contents of the scene itself.

To begin with was the skeleton that was strung up from a tree. Still bloodied with tendons sticking to it and some bits of flesh, it was suspended from a branch by the spine tied with some rope weaved from bark fibre, and the horns nearly brushing the ground. The skeleton would look much like a nine foot human if not for the bull head attached to the neck.

On the ground in front of it was spread out its pelt that had been meticulously cut away and then laid on the fur side so the inner layers could provide somewhat of a clean surface for the rolls of meat trussed and tied up with the same bark rope, as well as the legs and arms that had been cut off and arranged in neat order. A little ways off beneath the tree lay the useless guts and organs that the boy had not wanted to use up, such as the gall bladder, the rectum etc...

But where he was at the moment was a little stream running by just a few feet from the clearing, cutting open the stomach that he'd taken from the minotaur and washing out the contents so he could possibly have tripe on his menu at some point. To his delight, although humanly shaped, the minotaur's physiology was not too far off from a cow, so he expected to have a lot of delicious meaty meals soon. He brushed off the last of the muck that he could find before giving it one last rinse and then flicking the water off.

Standing up with his hood still pulled over his head, he looked above through the trees to see the daylight fading fast and the evening approaching. They were not quite out of the cold seasons it seemed. Sighing to himself, he walked back over to the layout and dropped the tripe beside the other pieces of meat that he hoped to cook up. He then walked over to a pile of wood he'd assembled for a fire. Pausing for a moment, he contemplated lighting it using his 'special' method before ultimately deciding against it. There was a chance after all that he'd burn the whole damn forest down.

Looking around for alternatives, he noticed exactly what kind of forest he was in.

"I swear all these things are Ash trees." The boy said to himself in thought. "Which means they should have..." 

He walked off into the forest, entering the deepest thickets from which the minotaur he was about to eat had emerged. Venturing deeper, he walked around for a bit looking for the kind of tree he needed to see if the ecology of this world was just like that of his previous one. He'd already come across a few things in this world he definitely did not know, but he'd hoped that basic things like what he now sought existed too.

He finally came upon an Ash tree that was a bit slanted in its growth and leaned over to look underneath. And indeed, as per his expectations, there were what looked like small black buds or warts growing out of the bark of the tree.

"Perfect." He said to himself as he flicked each and every one of them. Those that felt squishy and soft he left alone, while the ones that felt solid, he wrapped his fingers around them and snapped them off. Coming away from the tree, he carried a few of these little charred beauties and made his way back to his camp.

...

Once there he put his hand against another tree, and ripped out a perfectly cut log from it, as if someone had taken a chainsaw and cut out the log. The top of the tree collapsed to the ground, leaving a stump, while he took the log and set it down by the firewood pile. He set the black lumps aside on the new seat and with both hands picked up a smaller log he'd cut away earlier.

"{Hachi}"

In an instant, the log in his hands became a pile of fluttering wood flakes that floated to the ground. Leaving it for a moment, he returned his attention to the black lumps and picked out the one that looked the most dry. After that, he removed from his cloak a pocket flint and steel and scraped the two together to make the lump catch a spark. After a couple of tries, it did and the lump started smoking as it began producing embers.

He held it up happily as with his other hand, he grabbed the pile of flakes he'd made.

"Nothing like a natural firelighter than King Alfred's Cakes." He said.

Wrapping the flakes around the mushroom to make a tinder pile, he blew on it to spread the embers and create a flame. It was a good thing he found that dried out fallen tree earlier, because the flakes had come out dry. Eventually the tinder pile began smoking and caught fire on its own, which he then dropped into the firewood and continued to blow until the whole pile came alight with a burning fire.

Why was he doing all this the long way around? Simple. The next best thing he liked after cooking was camping, and if you cheat too much in the things you like to do, then it just doesn't become enjoyable anymore. And making a fire was always fun to him.

While waiting for it to continue burning, his shadow thickened and became fluid like, from which he withdrew a small boiling pot and a skillet. He stuck two longer twigs in the ground either side of the fire with both had forklike formations at the top, into which he placed a longer stick to run across the fire. He returned to the stream to fill the boiling pot with some water and then came back to his fire so he could run the long stick through the pot handle and suspend the pot over the now burning fire.

He then withdrew a small bag from a purse strapped to his hip and took out of it some pine needles he'd gathered before deciding on subduing the elephant from earlier. Cutting of the ends of the needles, he dropped them in the pot and waited for it to start boiling so he could get some tea going.

"You really shouldn't boil the needles because it destroys the vitamin C content. But who cares? I just want the taste."

He waited around until the fire died down a little bit before he added more logs to the fire for a slow burn. Walking over to the pile of meat he'd laid out, he perused his options before taking out a piece that had plenty of fat to it and returning to the big log to sit down. He'd decided to go with a more cheaper cut today, just so that he could save the best for last.

Night had almost fully set in by this point, the sky being just a very dark blue by now. He laid the meat down on the empty skillet and withdrew from his shadow a shovel. He walked a good bit away from the fire and dug out a trench in the dirt, big enough for him to fit in, almost like a small grave. Thanks to his superhuman strength, the job was done in just a couple of minutes.

Putting the shovel back into his shadow, he stretched out his hands and they suddenly disappeared into thin air...or more like the air in front of his hands rippled with light and his hands disappeared into another dimensional space through a small portal with only a bright light shining through from the other side. Out of that light, he pulled out a green bag full of camping equipment with plenty of tarp and layouts.

At the bottom of the ditch, he lay down a layer of tarp so his clothes would not get dirty from the soil and the sheet was big enough that the edges spilled out of the ditch and onto the ground. He then lay a few rods across the ditch, and covered some tarp over them to fully cover the ditch except the part where his head would be. The dirt he'd shovelled out of the ditch, he began piling on top of the upper tarp layer, so what he was left with was a hole in the ground that led to a small grave inside.

"Stealth camping at its finest." He commented.

Sleeping inside the ground so if somebody came by, they would not see where you slept and would only see you if they came close enough to see the hole. Most would be worried about the possibility that the top tarp layer would give way and the soil would collapse inwards, burying you alive. That was the case if you were still an ordinary human...something he was not. In fact, he was no longer human anymore.

...

Returning to his food preparations, he pulled a larger leaf off a tree and laid the meat slab over it before setting the skillet on top of the campfire. After waiting for it to get hot, he tore off some pieces of fat from the meat and put it on the pan, savouring the hiss that immediately arose as liquid fat almost instantly began being rendered from the fat chunks. He then picked up the meat slab by an end and tossed it into the air.

The meat slab stilled for a moment in the air before there it suddenly collapsed into perfectly cut slices, steak sized and with some decent marbling to them. He then reached into his purse again and pulled out a pinch of salt which he sprinkled over both sides of one steak and then pulled out a pinch of pepper to do the same.

"Grocery bought salt is always better than boiling dandelions." He said to himself. "I know I wasn't going to use the system until I got to Orario...but even my patience is limited."

Knocking the fat chunks out of the skillet, he was now left with 'liquid gold' in the skillet, on top of which he happily laid a steak. The burst of sizzling was music to his ears, and the aroma that arose was mouth-watering to say the least.

"It's definitely strong and metallic." He said to himself. "Perhaps it is just like beef after all. We shall see."

And here was to hoping that perhaps the smell of their cooking kin would ward off any other minotaurs living in the area. While his food was cooking, he withdrew a map from the same dimensional rift and smiled for a moment.

"That Item Box skill really is useful. I'm glad I accepted it after all." He then grimaced as he observed his map. "Still, it's stupid that that guy sent me so far away with no sense of direction. Then again, I wouldn't have had the time to enjoy all the camping and the travelling. Flying is an option but there is just so much to see out here...and so many specimens too."

He'd been on this journey for perhaps a month now, and the map he had in his hand was one he'd traded a few certain items for in a small farming village he'd passed that paid tribute to one of those elven forests. It seemed that the rumoured snobbishness of the elves rubbed off on the humans that lived near them. They'd been quite quick to get rid of him. He could understand the lack of inclination to a complete stranger, but you'd think humans would be considerate to someone who...at least looked like them.

Oh what was he hoping for? He'd been human once, so he knew exactly the way human mentality worked. It still didn't make up for how much he'd wanted to fire off Dismantle in every direction he could see...but he'd needed this map of course.

He chuckled darkly to himself.

Only after obtaining this map from behind the counter of the bar he'd visited did he decapitate everyone who'd been sitting there, whether they'd mocked him or nor. Who cared? There was no order to how how humans mated; they proliferated all year round since humans tended to think numbers were their greatest line of defence. That village would replenish their numbers soon enough.

...

He blinked at himself momentarily. It was strange to think that way about humans now...having been one once upon a time. But when you tore one apart, all you'd find in the end was just sacks of meat and blood, and a few bones to hold the whole thing together.

There truly was nothing special to humans or humanity in the end...just a few brief years of light, life and opportunity before the futility of all you'd ever done fell upon you and the darkness consumed everything you'd ever worked for.

In this world it was worse since every time you died, you'd reincarnate somewhere down the line with no memory of what you were or who you were once. Only then to go and make more useless and fruitless decisions which ultimately meant nothing in the annuls of time. Such was the glory of humans...but not him. No more. Now, unlike last time, he had the power to push his dream forward and obtain the opportunity that had been stolen in his last life.

And that being who had brought him here had been ever so accommodating....provided that he accepted a few caveats thrown into the deal.

He sighed and nearly spat in exasperation. There was more to him being spawned in at the furthest point from the Labyrinth city imaginable, and why he just did not fly there immediately given his new powers. He was meant to find something...or rather someone. He thought that perhaps the shikigami would have gotten back to him by now.

They hadn't.

Which meant that they'd not found the target. Tossing the map aside, he flipped his steak over to cook on the other side. Honestly, why did he enter that Binding Vow in the first place? It was not like he even fully remembered the contents of the Vow, perhaps a deliberate thing on that being's part. All he knew that it was all centred around one thing, and that thing he'd been looking for for some time now.

Why oh why did they never say where the runt's village was in the series? It would have been so much easier!

The boy sighed he saw that his steak was done. He'd gone for well done this time around, not in the mood for rarity. He was camping, not dining. With his bare fingers, he picked up the steak and nonchalantly took a large bite out of it. His eyes lit up at the taste, the results far exceeding his expectations.

"This stuff is premium!" He exclaimed. "Turns out that looks can be deceiving after all! How have they not discovered this yet? Or do they eat the monsters and it was just never mentioned? After all, one minotaur could destroy a small army if it wanted. Steel tipped spears wouldn't penetrate a minotaur's hide and there are no adventurers this far out. But still...this is definitely going on my menu." He then looked off to the side in thought as he tapped his chin with a finger. "Still haven't decided on a name though. Who knew coming up with the perfect ones was so hard?"

He sighed and with his clean hand pulled out a funny little stone from his pocket and looked at it. It was purplish in colour, and it looked like a lapidarist's lazy attempt at cutting.

But this was of more value than a common stone. This was a monster stone, or a monster core as known by some. Found in the bodies of monsters, they were little pockets of magical energy that were this world's equivalent of crude oil since stones were used in the industries. All monsters had them, and apparently the monsters in the Dungeon had stones even bigger than this...at least according to that bartender right before he'd slashed him in two.

There was still that debate raging inside of him on what he would do once he got into the city. For his idea and his business endeavour, he still needed access to the Dungeon because like hell he would be asking adventurers to do his stuff for him. So the question was this.

Should he join a Familia? Or should he not?

And if he did join a Familia, it would have to be same Familia as the one that the being he'd parlayed with (and lost to) had charged him with. So many options, so little time...

...

His attention was caught by his bubbling pot of tea and realizing he'd forgotten about it, he pulled a mug from his Item Box and quickly filled it. After taking a long sip from the drink, he sighed in deep content.

"Refreshing. And warm for sleep." He mumbled to himself, purging all his previous thoughts as he opted to just enjoy this night.

Like this, he went through all the steaks laid out on the leaf and washed it down with the tea that he boiled. He wasn't interested in having much vegetable that night. Once he was done with his meal, he wrapped up all the meat he'd left out and put them in his Item Box. He then washed up his cookware in the stream and put them back into his shadow. He would put his tools away in his shadow and his other stuff in his Item Box.

Facing a hand at the fire, he fired a repulsive blast of force at it using one of his generously bestowed techniques, and completely cleared the pile of fire, wood and ash so that nobody and no monsters passing by would see any sign of him being there. As for the skeleton, he simply picked it up and slugged it through the treeline, uncaring of where it landed.

With all evidence of his camp removed, he slid into the hole of his underground camp bed and wrapped his cloak around himself as a blanket before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. All he could hear was a light breeze slightly ruffling the leaves in the trees and the chattering of midnight critters as he slowly let the sleep overtake him. He didn't really need sleep anymore these days...but while it existed as a luxury, what was the wrong in him indulging himself? 

He was still a long way from the city...

---

In his preference, he liked travelling off path. Those marked out trails were prime hunting ground for bandits as he'd discovered. He'd already encountered a few on the path towards the city so far. He wouldn't blame them for trying either. Anybody coming from the Labyrinth City was bound to be carrying something valuable or of significant worth.

And who didn't like acquiring profit with little work for it? That much about a thief's mentality could be related to. It did not mean however that he would tolerate them thinking that he was easy picking. Perhaps every fifty miles now, one would find a bloodstain that would have used to be a brigand or a bandit but was now decoration to liven up the trail a bit.

Still, he wasn't able to avoid them entirely. Not when he would be hearing screams of men and women alike from the trail, mixed in with the cruel laughter of men. He was a curious person by nature, so naturally he went to go and have a look when such an occasion did present itself. Walking up to a tree that cast plenty of shadow, he peered out from behind it and eyed a small retinue of what was clearly hired security being cut down by your stereotypical rough looking bandits with scuffed leather and fur clothes and poorly maintained weapons.

The hired guards were 'protecting' what appeared to be a series of wagons carrying jars and urns, and there was one wagon that had a roof over it in which he could see the merchant in charge of the whole procession cowering with a woman who must have been his wife. Wrapped in the woman's arms was little bundle of hair and cloak that whimpered and cried.

He watched as this whole thing went down, tutting in disbelief at the merchant's stupidity. He had only hired about six guards to escort his 'caravan', and from the clear weathering on it all as well as the dried up mud in the spokes, they'd been travelling a long while. Who brought so few security down this road on a long journey?

Especially when the security in question had so little in the way of equipment and protection. The only real form of metal armour they had were helmets on their heads, shoulder plates and chest plates, which completely left their tunic bound torsos open for attack as they did find out when about 20 bandits altogether fell upon the procession like wolves smelling blood, their eyes mad with greed and hunger as they hacked the poor unfortunate guards to pieces.

The boy felt sorry for them too. Since they were being mowed down by weapons that were not properly maintained, the bandits weren't cutting through properly. That retinue would be dying slow and painful deaths, that was for sure.

...

Eventually with all threats to them neutralized, the lead bandit who was rather a giant of a man with scars across his face, greasy hair and patched clothes with a wood-chopping axe for a weapon, directed his posse to drag out the merchant by his hair, along with his wife and their child who turned out to be a little girl, crying hysterically.

"Alright boys!" He called out as he held the terrified merchant by the hair. "Tear this caravan apart. They've got some good horses so we'll be taking those as well, but anything of value is ours for the pilfering."

""AYE!" His men called out as they began tearing open cloth covered good and using cranks and crowbars to bust open crates.

"Man I love it when these fat idiots come down here with barely any guards." One bandit said as he rested what seemed like a cutlass over his shoulder. "It's so much easier to raid them then."

"Especially when they bring their women along. It makes them less eager to fight." Another bandit said as held a sword to the wife's throat. He then put a hand under her chin and squeezed her face as he licked his lips lecherously while gazing into the terrified woman's eyes. "This one's quite the looker you know boss. I've always wondered why pretty little things like them go around with flabby little dwarfs like him." He said as he pointed his sword at the merchant.

The merchant was, as the boy noted, a little bit on the rotund side. He wore a long outer robe that was open at the front to reveal a hefty belly, while his face was double-chinned and pudgy. And from simple observation and deduction, it was clear that if the man stood up next to his wife, he'd be about a foot shorter.

The wife however was a lithe and fit woman, well proportioned with sun kissed blonde hair and lovely bright blue eyes, with features that were only slightly sharp but emphasised her beauty in some small way. She wore a form fitting summer dress with a shawl thrown over her shoulders, although it was a little displaced due to the rough handling.

"Ain't it simple Rolf?" Another bandit said. "These whores only marry them for the money, nothing about the looks."

"That's right." The one with the sword said before he looked at the wife. "Come on lady, admit it. I'm way more handsome than the little gnome over there you call a husband."

The woman did not answer, instead opting to tighten her grip around the little girl in her arms. The child could not be more than seven years old, a tiny thing with hair the same shade as her mother's although her eyes were a different shade of blue. Fear was etched all over her face, as her young mind could not even comprehend fully the true danger she was in.

"Please." The merchant begged. "Leave us be! Take whatever you want, the money the goods, take it all! Just leave me and my family alone!"

"Shut up!" The lead bandit kicked the merchant in the stomach, making the poor man keel over as he spat out the contents of his mouth and he wheezed for breath. "We're in charge here old man, not the other way around!"

"What are we going to do with him boss?" Another bandit said as he eyed the wife and her child. "He's no use keeping alive...but the others aren't completely useless you know."

"You can do what you want, just as soon as we finish rinsing this caravan." The leader said as he pilfered the merchant's pockets and to his glee found a money purse. "We need to get off the trail before anyone else comes down here."

"You got it." The bandit licked his lips as his eyes ran over the woman's form, making her tense in even more fear as she hugged her child closer.

After a few minutes went by, the bandits' collective mood eventually turned to frustration as they smashed apart jars of spices and urns of oil, while throwing out plants and herbs from the crate.

"There's nothing here of value boss!" One called out as he held up a new and pristine kitchen knife. "Apart from this small piece of good steel, there's nothing here."

"Damn! All that trouble." The leader picked up the merchant by his scruff. "Well, spit it out old man, where's the money, where's the goods? Don't you have anything expensive here?"

"I-I'm a spice m-merchant!" The old man stuttered. "I w-was on my way t-to O-Orario to sell these wares of m-mine. I h-haven't had the chance to make a p-profit yet!"

"...Then you're no good to us, you know that?" The leader said before he ripped the robe off of the old man and examined. "This is some fine silk, you know? I don't know much about spice but these are definitely not the kind of clothes you can just get with simple trade."

"Yeah, boss. His bitch is also wearing some expensive looing stuff." The bandit holding the wife and child hostage. "I bet they could go for some real money, not the rest of this junk."

"...Then she doesn't need the dress anymore I think." The lead bandit said.

The merchant and his wife went pale at that implication, but perhaps most profound of all was the little girl.

"Mummy?" She quivered. "What are the bad men going to do to us?"

The girl got no answer as three men pounced on the woman and began tearing off her shawl and dress while others began stripping the merchant too. The woman cried and screamed in fear but refused to struggle as she continued to hold on to her child, being left in no more than the least of her undergarments same as her husband.

...

Having decided that he'd seen enough, the boy sighed and began walking away.

Why did he have to get involved? What was happening here was none of his business and it was all a consequence of the merchant's own negligence. Due to the fat old man's lack of preparation and foresight, he'd not prepared a strong enough company to keep his wife and child safe, which should have been his priority instead of carrying as much spice and oil as he could.

His caravan was practically begging to be robbed.

He on the other hand had his own plans and none of them involved being a hero that saved the day when others were in trouble. He had a Labyrinth City to reach, a Dungeon to explore and a business plan to set up...and a brat to find. He didn't need to nor could he afford distractions like these.

And that would have been the end of that had his sharp ears not caught the sharp cries of the young girl who was no doubt being handled by the evil men.

"NO PLEASE!" Shrieked what must have been the woman's voice. "NOT HER, ANYTHING BUT HER! 

The protest was stopped by what sounded very much like a thump to the face, followed by a cry of pain. Once again, his curiosity peaked as he looked back to see that the bandit leader had pulled the little girl right out of her mother's arms and the child was now frozen with fear, dangling in the man's outstretched arms.

"Maybe it wasn't such a waste after all." The leader said. "This one here is an even prettier thing. She'd make for good...'merchandise'. She's fresh too."

"Do we have to keep it that way though?" Another, particularly dirty and sharp eyed bandit said as he licked his lips suggestively. "Our customers don't really mind second-hand products."

"Yeah boss, don't keep it for yourself." Another bandit said. "We all pitched in, let's share the spoils."

"Fine. Do whatever you want. Just be quick about it." The leader held out the girl with one arm to the dirty bandit, who approached her with one outstretched arm and the other hand on the button of his pants.

The parents were terrified as they knew exactly what was about to happen to their little girl protested at the top of their voices but the sound fell on deaf ears as other men began to approach the wife with their own hands unbuckling belts while the merchant was pulled to his knees and a knife was pressed to his throat.

...

An invisible slash split the ground in two and cleaved the wagon apart as a gust of wind blew by all the men. Their eyes widened at the sudden interference and they cast their eyes over to the destroyed cart which had been sliced with such force that it had been slammed against the trees so fast, instead of smashing into smithereens as would have been expected, the tree trunks had embedded themselves into the two halves.

The bandits then looked in the opposite direction to see a clean cut miniature ravine in the ground, like a giant knife had just been hacked into the ground, and it came from a large tree that had also been split clean in two. Through the gap, they could see a cloaked person with glowing red eyes beneath their shadowed hood walking and approaching them calmly.

The leader eyed the perpetrator before he heard a squelch noise followed by an 'oof' from the girl. His arm also felt quite cold all of a sudden and he looked to see a stump where that arm had been. The arm that had been holding the girl he realised at the same time the pain kicked in, had been in the direction of the slash that had bisected the tree and the cart.

His arm had been the target, and the other things had just been collateral. How? Well he didn't have time to ponder that as searing pain rushed through what was left of his arms and his brain was bombarded with pain signals as his eyes fixated on his severed arm left on the ground behind the little girl who'd been dropped on her butt.

"Who the f***!" The cutlass guy shouted out as he saw what happened and brandished his knife at the attacker. "The hell man! Where did you come from?"

The boy said nothing as he continued to walk towards them. When he got to the tree, he walked in between the two halves and put a hand on each, throwing his arms out as he thrust the two halves apart. The halves tore out of the ground and collided with other trees, knocking those wooden columns down as well, all for the sake of a casual show of physical power.

"Who the hell are you?!" The dirty bandit screamed. No answer was given as the boy continued to stalk towards them.

"Don't ask questions you bloody idiots!" The leader shouted through gritted teeth. "The bastard is using magic or something that he attacked me with. Kill him you fools!"

The men did as they were told and with war cries, a few of them jumped towards the boy. But they'd barely moved a few feet from their places when their bodes were suddenly split and bisected for no apparent reason, like an invisible sword had just sliced them apart. The bisected bandits fell to the boy's feet as he continued towards them.

The rest that were about to join their comrades came to a screeching halt as they tried to figure out what was going on. The boy had raised no weapon, nor even his hands. And yet there the bandits lay at his feet, cut into pieces like they'd been hacked down. The leader, blinded by his pain could not see simple reasoning and instructed them to continue.

"KEEP ATTACKING HIM!" He shouted. "You're giving him time to do whatever he is doing. Stop standing there and kill him!"

One bandit pulled out a bow and fired an arrow right at the boy's head. The boy simply stood still and looked at the arrow as it came whistling towards him. When it was just a few inches away from his face, it came to a complete stop, frozen in the air like time had stopped for it all of a sudden. It was so bizarre and random that it short circuited their brains for a moment.

"The fu-" Began the archer but that was all he managed to get out. The boy quickly snatched the arrow that was caught in his barrier and threw it arrowhead first at the man's face. The arrow ripped a hole right through the man's skull, a literal gaping hole big enough for someone to put their fist through if they wanted. The man swayed in placed before falling to the ground, blood spurting out of the death wound.

"Sh**! He must be an adventurer or something!" One of the bandits said and the other looked at him in fear. "Only those freaks could do something like that!"

"Nah forget this! I'm not dealing with an adventurer!" A bandit screamed before turning tail and running.

"Me too! I'm outta here!" Another said as he threw down his weapon an began sprinting away.

The other bandits followed wisely, leaving just the leader behind as he gawped at the boy in terror.

"COME BACK YOU COWARDS!" He bellowed after them before he looked back at the boy, with a face like he was about to cry. The little girl by now had crawled over to her parents and they'd moved as far away from the bandit as possible, so there was no way he could use them as hostages. And the carts were in his way, so he wouldn't be able to run.

So the desperate one-armed bandit did the only thing he could do. He picked up his axe and ran at the boy swinging wildly while hoping he could take his head. As he did so and the image of the still standing cloaked boy became bigger to him, he suddenly saw two fields of sight as his vison somehow split in two. He couldn't understand it, but all of a sudden he was seeing two different angles at once.

But of course, somebody else would have been able to explain it. A bloody line had formed straight down the man's face and body, starting at his scalp and end where his legs were joined. The next step the man took after that line appeared prompted the man's body to split into two vertical halves and collapse to the ground, dead while the two halves of his body split further apart showing a perfect side-view of his anatomy.

Doctors, take notes.

...

The boy paid no mind to it, as if a large man swinging an axe had not just come rushing towards him and had just split into two pieces. Instead he approached the merchant and his wife and stared down at them, whilst they stared at him boggle eyed and slightly unnerved by how his hood worked. They could make vague outlines of his features but what stood out in the hood was the glowing red eyes.

Eventually the merchant shrugged off his unease and bowed to him on the ground, like the typical Japanese prostration, urging his wife and child to do the same, regardless of his wife's current state of dress.

"Thank you good sir, for saving our lives." The merchant said. "If you weren't here, who knows what would have happened?"

"Hm." The boy said as he turned to the cart and picked up a jar, popping open the lid and sniffing the contents.

"My name is Enoch." The merchant said. "I'm a spice merchant and I was travelling with my company of guards when we were attacked by these bandits and they killed our security. We were on our way to Orario."

"Like most people who take this road." The boy mumbled just loud enough for them to hear as he looked through all the different 'spices' that the merchant had.

"Indeed." The merchant said as he noted the boy's interest in his wares. "I see you like my wares good sir. We are closer to the city than we are to our home. If perhaps you could escort us there, I'd be willing to let you take whatever you want of our wares free of charge, however much you want."

"Really?" The boy said cynically. "And what makes you think I'm up to that task?"

The merchant misunderstood this and chose the way of grovelling and praise.

"Simple." Enoch exclaimed. "The way you dispatched those bandits so quickly and mysteriously! You cant be anything more than an adventurer from Orario itself! With your abilities, you could wipe aside any lowly bandit that came our way. I'd be honoured if you would do this favour for us, and more than that, I would pay a hefty tribute as thanks to your Familia's patron as a means of gratitude once I am done with my business there."

"Would you?"

"Of course. Nothing less could be offered to our saviour." Enoch looked at his wife and daughter and he nudged them. "Go on. Thank the kind adventurer, He saved our lives after all!"

""Thank you for saving us!"" The two females said in unison. "We are forever in your debt good sir!" The mother added last.

"I suppose I did save you." The boy said, still having not turned to speak to them face to face as he continued to examine all the alleged oils and spices on the man's caravan.

"And we implore you to save us again." Enoch said as he bowed his head, his wife and daughter following suit. "We beg of you, please escort us. We don't have the money to hire more guards right now. And we are lonely and vulnerable. Please help us in any small way and you shall be rewarded handsomely. And also...could we please have your name?"

At that, the boy stopped what he was doing and looked at them.

"Raise your heads." He said to them.

Enoch raised his head from the ground, along with his wife and daughter.

.

.

A moment passed before suddenly, both the heads of his wife and daughter were blown completely off of their shoulders and splattered the trees behind them bloody with fragments of bone, brain matter, blood and flesh. Some of the blood splashed onto Enoch's face as his eyes widened in horror at seeing the bodies of his family collapse to the ground.

"Lumara! Remi!" He screamed, his voice raised to shrill horror as he stared at what remained of his family, blood spurting out of their open necks as the ground soaked in the red liquid. He then looked up at the boy. "WHY, WHY DID YOU DO THAT?! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

"The audacity of you thinking that you could demand anything of me." The boy answered. "Especially when you are nothing but a liar and a fraud."

"W-w-what?" The man gibbered in fear as he began crawling away.

"Bandits aren't all that smart." The boy said. "You had a pretty good cover going on here. None of these are spices, just ground up weeds and dried leaves, with just a few vases of cheap oil. The perfect front for what you've got hiding under here."

The boy put his hand on the bottom of the wagon and dug his fingers right through the hardwood, his finger tips entering a hollow space just as he expected. With a tug, he lifted the false bottom up to reveal what he was pretty sure the merchant already knew was in there.

"Those brigands had no idea they had ambushed a drug dealer." The boy said. "And by their own admission, they knew nothing about spice so they didn't catch on to your little game."

"But why THEM!?" The man pointed at the corpses of his wife and child. "Why did you hurt them?!"

"Correction. I didn't hurt them. I KILLED them. As for why...well people like you destroy hundreds of families practically for a living, so it was divine justice that yours got destroyed in return."

"You killed my innocent family, just to dish out justice!?" Enoch's face, although streaming with tears, now became furious. "Was that seriously it? Some sort of self-centred righteousness?!"

"No." The boy said. "I might still have let them live. What you really did was even more offensive than all of that."

"WHAT?!!!"

"...You offered fake, fraudulent spices to a chef." The boy answered.

...

Enoch seemingly at his wits' end after all that had happened to him completely forgot what had happened to the bandits and to his family and he picked up a discarded sword and swung it at the boy as he leapt forwards, eyes bloodshot and crazed with grief. But the boy lazily slapped the blade aside and plunged his fingers into the fat merchant's throat, gripping his windpipe and tearing out the man's entire respiratory tract through the front of his body, followed closely by his digestive tract.

The grotesque mess hung there for a moment as Enoch did not even realise what had happened to him before his eyes rolled back and he stilled. Seeing as he was done with the criminal, the boy dropped the mess of flesh and organs and turned back to the wagon. Inside the hidden compartment were rolls of narcotic plants and other garbage that was the man's real income.

Was it any wonder why he was wearing such fancy clothes as did his family, even though they were travelling with such rubbish merchandise? Drugs brought in a lot of money. And there weren't many ways to justify that stream of money. So you had to put on fronts to cover it all up. Sometimes they were good, other times they were bad.

The bandits fell for it, but the boy didn't. Because he had spent his whole previous life around spices, hoping to become a famous chef before his dream was ripped from him by his unfortunate accident. In no way was he to be fooled by this pitiful attempt, this mockery.

But what he would take though was a bulging money bag inside the hidden compartment full of Valis. He found similar bags in the other wagons too and tossed them all in his Item Box, hoping to count them properly at a later point. But seeing as he was done here, he wiped the splattered blood from his cloak and flicked it off of his gloves before once again setting off in his original course for the Labyrinth city. 

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