Why Kill a Madman?

A group of servants were huddled up at the door and looking inside the kitchen curiously. Their eyes held looks of disbelief and pity as they gazed at a young boy moving around busily.

"Do you think he has gone mad after losing the duel?" A young servant voiced softly, a hint of worry in his voice.

"I reckon he must have hit his head when he got blown away. Poor thing. And that was the one thing good about him." Another spoke his mind freely, eliciting a wave of agreement from his peers.

"But what do you think he is doing?" A maid asked curiously, "He has been whisking away for a good ten minutes now. And he is still going. Could it be that he really lost his mind and is wasting away eggs and oil?"

"That is what I just said. How else do you explain him coming to the kitchen. He was so lazy that he never even stepped a foot near here. Always asking someone to fetch him snacks if he ever wanted one. But look at him right now." The second servant added strongly, even surer of his earlier conjectures.

Having come to a unanimous conclusion, the servants clicked their tongue in sync, feeling sorry for their young master.

Completely oblivious to what they were thinking, Vincent continued whisking away happily as he looked at the mayonnaise that was slowly taking shape.

He had grown bored after a week in bed, surprising even himself. In the end, he decided to make some mayonnaise as he suddenly had a craving for it. Why you ask? Because he hadn't had it since his last life and now that all he had was free time, he decided it was a good time as any to satisfy his craving.

"Still. This sucks. How long do I have to do this for? Did I remember the recipe incorrectly?" Vincent muttered to himself before calling Mina. "Here, keep on whisking this until I tell you to stop."

The girl began whisking begrudgingly and directed a hateful look at him. It was finally her free time but her master had dragged her to the kitchen only to begin making food she had never even heard about.

"What's with that look? I even let you get away with stealing my snacks. Is that really the face you should be making?"

Immediately after the boy brought up the matter of stolen snacks, Mina put on an innocent smile and began whisking diligently. Vincent on the other hand, nodded his head in satisfaction at the minion he could order whenever he wanted.

Soon, the thing he had dreamed of for so many years took shape and he held up the bowl like a trophy. Suppressing the joy that was filling his heart, Vincent readied some slices of bread and spread mayonnaise on it.

He closed his eyes and took a bite with great anticipation. As the nostalgic flavor hit his tongue, he couldn't control his emotions and his eyes watered uncontrollably.

"What's wrong master? Did the memories of when you lost the duel come back to haunt you?" Mina asked worriedly. She had heard that the duel had changed her master, but never had she thought that it was this serious. After all, he still acted like the sly fox he usually was.

"Shut up. You snack stealing maid." Vincent stuffed another bread into Mina's mouth and wiped away his tears.

Mina wanted to ask what the matter was but the unique taste of the food they had just made surprised her. She took another bite to better understand the flavor and commented, "This is delicious. Waah. Master, I am so impressed."

Vincent blushed at the compliment and brushed it off in embarrassment. "Hehe, this is nothing. Soon you will have to refer to me as gourmet master 64."

Seeing that her praise had worked, Mina made a mental note that she could steal more snack than usual today and questioned. "Master, I can understand gourmet master part, but why is there 64 attached at the end?"

"You wouldn't get it." Saying so, the boy went back to his food.

*****

"Dear, this is bad. Vincent went to the kitchen this morning." Renee said worriedly to her husband.

Taking his eyes off the document he was reading, he asked in a confused manner. "And? What's wrong with that. Isn't it good that he is already moving around. That's a sign that he is healing faster than expected. He is young after all."

"That's not it. He went there to cook. According to the maids, he made a completely new dish and proclaimed that he would be called as gourmet master in the future."

The viscount put down the document in shock. "That's bad indeed. Did he hit his head during the duel?"

"I don't think so. But the entire experience must have been traumatic for him. You can tell just by looking at him that he is still shook by it. I don't know what to do anymore."

"Don't worry. I will handle it." The viscount massaged his temple in stress. "I will invite a medical expert. I heard that there was a foreign doctor with exceptional ability that recently moved into Mistellia."

"Oh, I just hope it's nothing serious or permanent. If only I knew things would turn out this way, I would have never agreed to the engagement proposal."

*****

"Under the eyes. Make it look like I have bags under my eyes. That's right. A little bit darker." Vincent instructed Mina who was using an expensive make up kit to make him appear sickly.

She thought it was such a waste to use a high quality good to appear unhealthy but kept her thoughts to herself since her master had promised to give the kit to her if he was satisfied by the way he looked. And that promise was also the reason why she was wearing a serious expression, something he had rarely seen in the years that he knew her.

After a couple more tweaks and touches, Vincent looked at his reflection in the mirror and nodded his head in satisfaction. "Good job. You can keep the kit. Just be sure to keep this matter hush hush."

The girl pecked her head like a chicken and quickly hid away the kit, afraid that Vincent would have a change of mind.

The boy began getting into the character of a sickly young man as he waited for the doctor to show up. A few more minutes passed and a series of knocks sounded.

"Come in..." Vincent spoke weakly and followed it up with a series of violent coughs.

A butler opened the door and gestured for the doctor to enter before going away. The brief case carrying man who entered was pale and lanky. While his frame looked weak, he carried himself with a strong gait.

He wore a neatly ironed shirt below his blue coat and smiled at his sickly patient. "I am doctor Stadler. I believe you have been informed of our session."

Vincent nodded listlessly as a reply.

"How are you feeling today?" The doctor questioned in a professional manner.

"Not good. I don't have an appetite and it's difficult to put any strength on my limbs."

Mina rolled her eyes at the words as she recalled her master devouring two plates of sandwich he had her make with strange sauces he prepared. 'Aren't you overdoing this a little? Why do you even want your bed rest to be extended in the first place? It's not like you do anything other than sleep and read on normal days anyways.' She quipped in her heart while maintaining a worried expression.

The doctor listened to Vincent's exaggerated explanation about his sickness with a straight face and waited for the boy to finish. Nodding to show that he heard all of it, he asked politely. "Could I please feel your pulse?"

"Of course." Vincent agreed readily and presented his right hand. But when the doctor touched him to feel his pulse, he felt no warmth from the point of contact. Instead, a cold sensation travelled up his arm, almost as if he was touching a corpse.

Looking at the doctor's arm from the side of his eyes, Vincent saw a shriveled arm wrapped in a bandage. "Doctor, can I ask what happened to your arm?"

"Oh this? It's nothing much." The doctor smiled as he continued explaining. "You see, being a doctor is only my secondary job. My primary job requires me to be able to kill people quickly when I can't take any weapons with me. So I figured that I would make my arm a weapon itself. It's a good idea isn't it?"

His shriveled arm began swelling up before his words ended. The bandage that had been covering him began tearing into thousands of pieces after being unable to restrain the bulging muscles. In just a second, what replaced his preciously thin arm was a muscular black limb that was half the size of his hip.

The monstrous arm moved like lightning and grabbed Vincent by his throat. As a crushing pressure assaulted his neck, Vincent found it difficult to breath. He tried to break free but the difference in strength was staggering.

As his consciousness began fading, he mustered as much strength at he could and reached out to touch the assassin's face. When he felt the assailant's skin on his fingertip, he focused all his energy on the point of contact and invoked a spell.

The assassin hurriedly covered his entire body with mana as he realized that the target was still capable of putting up resistance. But he was too late. Before his actions could be completed, his hair began floating weirdly. As he was wondering what kind of spell the boy used, tiny sparks started dancing in front of his face. He let go of the target and attempted to get away only to be hit in the face by a raging serpent of electricity.

As a scorching pain came from his cheek, the assassin used his left hand to feel his face. The wound had already been cauterized by the spell itself and the fake face he was wearing had been turned into molten goo. If it weren't for the fake face made out of special material that was covering his real face, his injury would have been a lot worse.

"You bastard! You are dead." The assassin covered his exposed face with his normal hand and charged towards his target who was struggling to catch his breath.

Just as he was about to get hold of the boy, a strong impact came from his waist causing him to lose balance and fall down. Looking down, he saw the maid who was previously petrified tackling him.

His overgrown right arm was much heavier than his other limbs, already making his movements weird. With the maid pushing him with all her weight, he couldn't regain his balance easily even if he was an experienced combatant.

"Get away from me. You bitch!" Angered at his work being hampered by a mere maid, he grabbed her by the head and tossed her like a ragdoll.

Finally free of the annoying pest, he got up to finish his business. But before he could get on his feet, he felt himself surrounded by a strange force, bogging down every movement of his. Tracing the source, he looked straight at Vincent who had already found his bearing and staring daggers at him.

Despite applying increasingly more strength, he couldn't overcome the restrictive force. Left with no choice, he decided it was time to retreat. Grabbing a nearby chair by its leg, he hurled it at the target.

Though the chair was thrown with blinding speed, it decelerated quickly and come to a stop before Vincent's face where it floated slowly.

The assassin used the opportunity when Vincent was focusing on the chair to break free. Without hesitating for a single instance, he made a run for the window and smashed through it. He felt the same force that restricted his movements earlier pulling at him. Fortunately for him, he had built up sufficient momentum and the gravity assisted him, allowing him to break free immediately.

The door opened just in time for the incoming guards and servants to catch a glimpse of the assassin jumping through the window to escape. Soon, the entire manor was turned inside out to search for the assassin but no signs of him were found.