We headed for the stairs. With every step, I smelled roasted meat. When I opened the door to the ground floor, the atmosphere hit me with a complete freeze. The main room stank of panic. In the center stood a man. An assassin. He held Luthia by the hair with his left hand. He bent her head back. In his right hand, he held a dagger. The blade dripped with green poison. He pressed the toxin against the dark elf's throat. Elena and Ria cowered in the kitchen corner.
"No sudden moves!" the killer growled. His eyes darted across my relaxed silhouette. "Step back, or this bitch gets a hole in her neck!"
I stopped. My Brazen chill did not waver. I looked at him with an empty gaze. I evaluated his stance. Tense shoulders. Shaking hands. An amateur who failed to predict the consequences. A sincere laugh escaped my throat.
"Are you serious?" I asked with authentic amusement. I leaned my shoulder against the doorframe. I scratched my chin. "You brought a knife to a kitchen?"
Shnee tensed her muscles behind my back. I silenced her with a slight hand gesture. The assassin stiffened. He was disoriented by my lack of fear.
"Shut your mouth!" he roared. He pressed the blade harder. Blood trickled down Luthia's neck.
His screen time was over. I focused raw will in the space. I used hard telekinesis. It worked like an invisible vise. I clenched my mind. The assassin's body became paralyzed instantly. His muscles turned to stone. The dagger stopped half a millimeter from the skin. He choked under the crushing grip. A quiet rattle escaped his lips.
Luthia felt the sudden slack in his grip on her hair. Her survival instinct fired immediately. The girl panicked. She jerked forward violently. She tried to escape, guided by blind fear.
I reacted in a split second. My mind evaluated the risk on pure logic. I threw out a second wave of will. I immobilized her mid-step. Luthia froze like a statue. Her wide eyes stared at the blade. It stayed right next to her neck.
I walked into the room at a leisurely pace. I approached the frozen pair. I calmly pulled the poisoned dagger from the assassin's stiff hand. I tossed the weapon onto the table. The steel clinked against the wood. I released the telekinetic lock on the dark elf.
Luthia fell heavily to her knees. She gasped for air. She held her bleeding neck. She looked at me. She was still trembling from a massive shock.
"If I hadn't immobilized you, you would have brushed that poisoned blade with your own throat during that violent jerk," I said in a harsh tone. I looked down at her. I was protective. "You would be lying on the floor right now. Dying in agony. Always wait for my move. Next time, just trust me. Stand still. Understood?"
Luthia shifted her gaze to the dagger. Green poison hissed on the steel. Her analytical mind connected the facts. She realized the physics of this incident. My brutal grip saved her life. She lowered her gaze with deep respect.
"I understand, Dave. I trust you," she whispered. She slowly stood up from the boards.
I turned to the paralyzed assassin. I loosened the grip on his throat enough for him to speak. I saw pure terror in his eyes. He collided with a force bypassing natural laws.
"Who sent you?" I asked icily. "Remnants of the Crimson Trail..." the killer wheezed. He spat saliva onto his collar. "The City Council paid them..." "Enough," I cut him off indifferently.
I yawned shortly. I tightened the telekinetic noose around his neck. I used crushing compression. A dull crack of a breaking spine echoed through the room. The assassin's neck folded at an unnatural angle. The killer's body slumped to the floor with a heavy thud.
Instead of dirtying Elena's floor, I used a relic. My Ring of Disintegration flashed with cold sapphire. I utilized the dead trash immediately with a wave strike. The assassin's body disintegrated in a fraction of a second. It turned into a small cloud of ash. I erased the blood from my clean boards. The wind coming through the window blew the remnants away. Quick cleanup.
The room pulsed with quiet breaths again. I noticed Ria still huddled against the wall. The eleven-year-old girl trembled uncontrollably. She cried silently. She grabbed her small horns with her hands. Her tail wrapped tightly around a chair leg, seeking an anchor point. She was terrified that this man came to drag her back to a cage.
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I discarded the predator's chill. I switched to the protective brother mode. I approached her with a slow step. I crouched. I reached out and gently pulled her hands away from her face. I picked her up, completely ignoring her slight resistance. She was light as a feather.
"I'm taking you upstairs. You need to sleep off this stress," I murmured warmly.
I walked up the stairs, carrying Ria in my arms. The girl buried her tear-stained face in my shoulder. I opened the door to her room. I placed her gently on the mattress. I covered her with a woolen blanket right up to her chin. I stroked her hair.
"I'm not a little child, Dave," Ria protested quietly. She sniffled, looking away, though she didn't avoid my touch at all. Her complex was acting up. "I want to help. You don't have to carry me."
"I know that, kid," I answered softly. I smiled at her. "You are an important part of this structure. You do a great job with Elena. But every hard worker needs to rest sometimes when emotions take over logic. No one will touch you here. We are family. I promise."
Ria closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, finally calming her racing pulse. I left her safe and headed for the door.
When I stepped into the corridor, I noticed movement. Mina stood against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. The seventeen-year-old Nekomata glared at me. Her cat ears were flattened, and her tail rhythmically hit the wooden frame, revealing deep frustration. She looked pouty, demanding absolute attention.
"What about me?" Mina asked. Her voice was full of quiet jealousy. "I was downstairs too. I was also terrified of that guy with the knife. But no one carries me in their arms or puts me to bed. You treat Ria like a treasure, and I just wash mugs."
I laughed quietly under my breath. Pure logic suggested that the teenage cat simply needed validation from her leader. I approached her. I placed a heavy hand on her head. I started to slowly, firmly scratch her behind the cat ears.
"Stop complaining," I said with Brazen chill. I looked into her eyes. "I don't carry you in my arms because you are grown up enough to stand firmly on your own two feet in a crisis. You did a great job. You guarded the kitchen. You didn't panic when Luthia got a knife to the neck. You are a foundation of this place, Mina."
The girl tried to maintain her offended expression, but she failed. She closed her eyes under the scratching. A loud, vibrating purr of satisfaction escaped her throat. She rubbed her cheek against my wrist. The jealousy evaporated completely. She received her portion of care.
"Alright," Mina murmured. She opened her eyes with a smile. "You saved the situation. Again." "I always do," I summarized briefly.
I turned towards the stairs. A predatory smile appeared on my lips. I rubbed my hands together. "And tomorrow morning, we are paying a visit to the City Council. It is time to clean this market to absolute zero. No prisoners taken."
I returned to the main room on the ground floor. The fire crackled quietly in the hearth. Luthia sat alone at the oak table. She spread the stolen ledgers across the wood. Her dark skin absorbed the warm light of the flames. She traced the lines of ink with her slender finger. Her analytical mind worked at full speed.
Elena wiped the clean counter in silence. She approached me and placed a cup of cold water on the table. I took a slow sip. I rested my elbows on the hard boards.
"The City Council is deeply connected to the Crimson Trail," Luthia stated with a cold tone. "These documents prove they funded the slave camps. If you just go there tomorrow and slaughter them all, the entire market will collapse. A power vacuum will destroy the local supply chains."
I smiled brazenly. I scratched my neck, feeling the satisfying tension in my muscles.
"A power vacuum is just an empty space waiting for a new owner," I murmured with Brazen chill. "On pure logic, killing them all right away is a waste of resources. Dead men cannot sign property deeds."
Luthia narrowed her yellow eyes. She leaned closer over the parchment. "You want to force a legal transfer of power," she deduced instantly.
"Exactly. I will squeeze their throats until they hand over every toll, every debt, and every warehouse to Silas," I explained. "We are not just a gang of thugs. We are a corporation. Tomorrow, Oakhaven changes management."
Luthia looked at me in absolute silence. Her mask of professional distance melted away. She saw a predator who not only broke bones but also controlled the economy. A spark of absolute, analytical respect flashed in her eyes. She felt deep satisfaction working for someone who executed optimal solutions.
"I will prepare the necessary contracts tonight," she said softly. "Silas will need them when he takes over the ledgers."
"Perfect optimization of time," I evaluated briefly.
I stood up from the heavy chair. My joints popped with a dry crunch. I grabbed my black coat from the hanger. "I will go inform our merchant," I threw over my shoulder. "Lock the door behind me."
I stepped out into the night air. The streets of Oakhaven were empty and smelled of wet stone. I walked with my hands deep in my pockets. I reached Silas's office in the Lower City. I kicked the wooden door open without knocking. The wood hit the wall with a dull thud.
The merchant was asleep on his desk. He drooled on a pile of copper coins. I slammed my open hand on the table. Silas jumped up with a panicked squeak.
"Dave! What the..." he wheezed, wiping sweat from his bald head with a dirty sleeve.
"Get your ink ready, Silas," I threw coldly. "Tomorrow morning, I am visiting the City Council. I will force them to transfer all their assets to your name. Be ready to take over the entire city market."
Silas's brain caught a massive lag. He stared at me with his mouth wide open. "The whole market?" he gasped.
"Yes. Do not oversleep," I replied indifferently.
I turned on my heel and left his stinking office. I returned to the Golden Griffin. I walked up the creaky stairs to my room on the upper floor. Shnee was already asleep on the mattress. I took off my boots and lay down next to her. She instinctively moved closer, wrapping her arm around my chest. She sought the warmth of my foundation. I closed my eyes. The base was secure.