Godfather's System

I waited until the servants had disappeared before standing up, grabbing an empty crate to lift it to my face. A simple way to stay concealed, but effective. I walked forward confidently.

It was one thing that most people misunderstood about disguise and infiltration, thinking that it required detailed make-up, carefully designed credentials, and weeks of observation. Were these useful, certainly, especially when infiltrating high-value and, carefully guarded places?

But walking through the corridors filled with servants, all I needed was to walk around with confidence and hurry, a loose excuse to walk around all I needed. I moved forward.

Technically, the safest thing was to hide in one of the storage rooms, waiting to see if they would limit their search to upstairs, or if they would actually realize I was with servants. There, even if the worst happened, I would just change from one group to another — and there was no guarantee they would be looking to harm me.

Maybe they would even treat me as well as my original destination.

Unfortunately, even thinking about that made my skin crawl. Earlier, I was happy to take a wait-and-see attitude, but now that I had a chance to act, trusting others for my future went against everything I believed in.

Luckily, perception allowed me an alternative. I walked forward, steady, following one of the most horrible smells I had ever had the displeasure of smelling. Yet, I smiled as I moved toward the direction as fast as I could manage without running.

Running would look too suspicious.

I passed several servants on the way, my speed much faster now that I didn't have to duck and cover whenever another servant was in the corridor. I wasn't careless, of course. My perception allowed me to track the footsteps with eerie accuracy, even before they stepped into the corridor. I quickened or slowed down as appropriately, making sure I constantly stayed away from them.

Even with my disguise, it was for the best if I didn't get too close to any other servant. No need to take unnecessary risks.

Until then I stood in front of my target, another magically locked door, the disgusting mixture of smell hit my nose. The shape of the lock was different, but I still used Toross' sigil, hoping it would unlock.

It did, confirming that it was similar to some kind of universal access card rather than a specific key. Very useful.

I wanted to smile as I stepped inside, and found myself in a room filled with cage after cage, both huge and small. Each was filled with a great number of beasts, growling and roaring. The biggest source of hope I had.

Unfortunately, I wasn't alone. "What are you doing here," said a servant as he turned toward me, standing up from the seat he had been occupying, loud enough to be heard through the loud beasts.

"I'm here to take your place, Captain's orders because I spilled his food," I said, trying to sound throaty like someone had been squeezing my throat just moments ago. However, even as I did so, I pushed the door close with my foot.

"Really?" he asked.

"Are you questioning your orders?" I declared. I didn't shout, as unlike what most people assumed, shouting was never the best way to order people. It applied a sense of force toward the target, but any such force was only necessary without the expectations of being followed.

He moved halfway before freezing. "Wait a minute, who are you to order me!" he realized as he took a note of my clothing, my face was still hidden behind the crate I had picked.

I didn't get annoyed.

Not when it triggered another line of notification.

[Stat Potential Awakened: Charisma

Accept / Reject]

[Stat Points -1]

[+1 Charisma]

Not only I accept it immediately, but also assigned a point to it rapidly. If it could be used like. I had hoped, it would help me immensely. "Silence," I ordered, trying to reinforce my words with Charisma.

Unfortunately, that didn't work as well as I hoped. I felt a flicker in my tone, but that was the best I could push to my tone.

And that flicker backfired, shown by the widening of his eyes. "You're not a servant," he gasped as he rushed forward.

"Maybe, are they really paying you enough to care, you can walk away," I suggested as I took a step back, lowering the crate. I didn't like senseless slaughter, especially when such young men threw their life away. Unfortunately, he didn't stop his charge.

I hoped he would recognize me as the Hero, and stop. He didn't.

Luckily, he didn't also try to raise an alarm, maybe assuming that an unfamiliar old man would be easy to take down. A poor choice.

If the situation was different, I might have tried to convince him to lay his weapon for a more extended time. But, after being treated as merchandise — very high-valuable merchandise, but that didn't change its nature — for the last couple of days, in a world where I still didn't know how it worked, and about to be hunted by another party with dubious intentions…

I wasn't feeling particularly merciful, even if I didn't have anything particular against a servant who was only doing his job — maybe with more enthusiasm than it was necessary.

I turned my attention to his charge, waiting for an opportunity, that came when he was two steps away from me, putting all his weight on one leg, ready to lash forward. The point he couldn't react.

The empty crate in my hand made an excellent projectile weapon as it smashed against his chest. With the full might of my newly acquired Strength behind, it smashed into pieces, filling his body with lacerations.

Lacerations that were quick to disappear.

A miracle in my old world, but after watching it happen several times in front of my eyes, even the most impressive miracle was quick to turn into something ordinary. I didn't even pause, closing the distance while he recovered from the improvised attack.

I was tense because I didn't know anything about his true combat capabilities. I knew that servant classes received limited Stat points, but that was the extent of my information. I didn't know their average level, I didn't know their potential combat capabilities, and I didn't even know if they practiced combat regularly.

However, the smoothness of his slash to prevent my approach, with almost no leading movement, gave me the first idea. The tightening of his shoulder was subtle enough that I could have never noticed without Perception, and without Agility, I couldn't have changed my path to turn that dangerous swing into a close call.

Even then, I stayed dangerously unbalanced. I prepared myself to receive a kick that would topple me back, putting enough distance to push forward, and prepared myself to roll with it — maybe toward the wall that held several spears, hoping to use it to cover the distance.

That was not the only thing he could do, of course, just the smartest option. I was still tense, ready for other, riskier moves, like shifting into a reverse grip to target a vital point, though I doubted. In a world with instant healing, the concept of a deadly hit would have been different.

Was I ready to bet my well-being on such an assumption?

Certainly not.

I kept both feet on the ground, preparing to react to a dozen moves that might happen, glad that the combination of Agility and Perception actually allowed me to react fast enough to strategize in combat rather than reacting reflexively.

Still, I found myself pausing as I saw his next move. He didn't follow up with a safe kick. Nor did he follow up with a more dangerous move. He pulled his dagger back, to the exact same stance he had used earlier, using the exact same slash.

Surprised, I just took a step back, dodging. The attack was nonsensical enough to make me think of a trap, but there was no hint of it on his face.contemporary romance

Then, he repeated the same move, the smooth perfection of the attack contrasting with the absurd strategic choice. I wanted to dodge again, to see if he would follow up the same way...

But I didn't have the time to waste with such luxuries. Instead, as he swung once more, I ducked under the move and grabbed his wrist, slamming him down with a classical takedown.

He was strong, but as I violently twisted his wrist to make him drop his dagger. I used my empty hand to grab the dagger before it fell to the ground. And, just like that, the leverage was entirely on my side.

He froze, showing that he wasn't familiar enough with combat. "Let's try it again. Stay silent, and I promise nothing —" I started, giving him another chance to surrender. Not just because I was feeling merciful, but also didn't want to lose someone I could interrogate.

He took a deep breath, preparing to shout even as he struggled, showing that he chose to resist the situation he found himself in.

I lashed into action.

I used my arm that was used to keep his arm to clamp on his mouth, silencing him, while the other lashed with the blade. My first target was his neck, against his artery, pulling back just as quickly. Yet, the artery recovered almost instantly.

That, I was prepared for. I stabbed him again and again, each stab recovering almost as quickly as they opened. Then, fifteen hits later…

They stopped recovering.

His eyes widened, unable to process what had just happened, still trying to push me back. His diminishing strength was still impressive … but useless without proper leverage.

"Pity," I muttered as I stood up, throwing one last glance to his side before moving to the spear on the wall. He was far from the first person I had to kill.

And, I strongly doubted he would be the last.

done.co