034. Crucible - 11

034. Crucible - 11

I was ready to act when I noticed the change in Zolast.

He had already been holding his knife when the over-enthusiastic thugs approached his cart, but it had been a harmless gesture, a cook hold onto his tools. Yet, the moment the threat was uttered, his grip shifted.

It was not a big move. His thumb shifted to the other side, his index finger shifted a little, and his hold loosened a touch.

Enough to add just a bit of whipping effect as he delivered an unexpected slash.

It was a fascinating little shift that turned his attitude from a cook to a dangerous fighter, with an intensity that he hadn't possessed while he was fighting against the beasts.

A man who had killed before, and not just in battle. His eyes told that more than his grip. He turned to me and gestured for me to walk away.

I chuckled as I took a step, but not behind. Instead, I walked toward the group. "Tell me, boys, why are you interrupting the lunch of an old man?" I said cheerfully as I closed in toward them, my plate still in hand as I stepped forward.

Just like a retiree who didn't understand the danger he was in. Or would have been, if it wasn't for the gasp of fear my unlucky acquaintance let out as he took note of my appearance.Visit no(v)eLb(i)n.com for the best novel reading experience

"I would be careful if I were you" their leader started before being interrupted by his friend. "What's going on, you moron?" he started as he turned his back, leaving his neck wide open.

An idiotic move, leaving himself completely vulnerable to the armed cook he had just threatened with indentured servitude. Health allowed people to recover from wounds, but it wasn't capable of curing decapitation or at least, that was the impression I rhad so far.

For all my apparent weakness, I was tense, to block Zolast if he took the opportunity to attack. Attacking was the smart move, but only tactically. Strategically, it would have been a disaster.

Instead, Zolast caught my eyes, hiding his surprise behind a question, asking permission to act. A man who was used to following orders. I shook my head and took another careless step forward, bringing me into their midst.

A dubious strategic position, a double-edged sword.

"He he is" the one that stumbled back gasped as he pointed at me. "He's the one that took us down alone," he managed to complete.

It was fascinating just how much he was startled by my presence. Not that I hadn't seen that level of response before, and not just as the Godfather. Many civilians reacted to gang members in a similar manner, panic, fear, and total submission.

It was interesting because it was coming from an armed man, one that was familiar with fighting. So, I paid attention when every single one of them looked at me, surprised at first, especially since I didn't react at all, just took another bite of my food.

My relaxed state was an illusion. At the first sign of hostility, I was ready to smash the plate to the face of the nearest one, before starting to break arms and legs. The earlier experience showed that broken bones were harder to cure than cuts. Coupled with their clear lack of ability when it came to unarmed combat, it was an obvious choice.

They surprised me by retreating. I would have attacked them if it was just a strategic move, carefully pulling back to create some space, but it was something different. A fearful, panicked retreat.

"That was something," Zolast said, and I turned to him. He was tense, which was understandable.

"Sorry about that. Children are always unruly," I said with a shrug.

"So, reds. I seem to remember you didn't belong to any one of them yesterday."

I shrugged. "Yesterday, I didn't, but they seemed to be determined to be annoying and force everyone in, so I joined one, hoping that joining earlier would keep me away from the hassle of being accosted. I miscalculated."

"How?" he asked.

"A bit of misfortune. The others decided to target the group I decided to join, and I revealed a bit more than I had been initially planning."

"Weren't you trying to avoid the hassle?"

"Yes," I said with a shrug. "Avoiding the hassle, but that hardly means I want to be a doormat for every little idiot that wants to make a name in their new gangs. Including your guards, it seemed."

"Young idiots," he said with a shrug. "Dangle a few shiny promises, and they throw themselves away." His tone was calmer, but that didn't mean his eyes were any more trusting. "I'm hoping that you're not going to do the same to me."

"Of course not," I said with a shrug. "The plan was to leave once my lunch is finished, but" I said, though paused before finishing that sentence. Having access to a competent cook might not be a bad idea considering the strategic significance of Health.

Not to mention the temptation how having access to food that didn't taste like garbage.

"But," he followed up.

"Well, I wouldn't say no to having a private chef," I said.

"Let me guess, do I work for free, or only pay half of what I earn," he said.

"Nonsense," I said with a shrug. "Only a moron would fleece his cook. I have a better idea in mind. Protection, in return you cook for a small group of five for free," I offered. "What you sell will belong to you, no cuts," I offered. "However, anything you don't kill yourself, you have to pay for supplies."

"Fair," he said. "Too fair, even. That doesn't seem like a good deal for your group."

"So what," I said with a shrug. "I much prefer to have a decent cook. I'm not a man content to eat garbage every day, especially since it seems I can't avoid attention anymore. Deal?"

He thought for a moment, then turned his eyes towards the moving carts, his eyes resting on the several groups with bands, talking with people, no doubt noting that it would be hard to avoid the inevitable choice, and that was by far the best offer he would receive.

He turned to me, resigned. "Deal."