As the demon wolf howled, a massive crack splintered the earth beneath its paws. The sonic echo was so violent that the children collapsed, clutching their ears, but Justin didn't flinch. Instead, he radiated a terrifying, focused excitement. He adjusted his leather gloves, clicking his neck from left to right while locking his enemy in a fearless stare. He stretched his arms, his body coiled like a spring.
"Greetings, you demon pedo. Congratulations on being selected by my Don," Justin greeted with a formal royal bow, devoid of any immediate bloodlust. "Before you say goodbye to this world, let me introduce myself. I am the current head butler, the irreplaceable Consigliere, and the sole right-hand of the great supreme leader of our clan—Justin. Just Justin, capiche? Remember the name so you aren't ashamed in the afterlife. Now, little puppy, let's have a walk, shall we?"
The demon wolf's veins bulged across its snout. With a roar that shook the very foundation of the forest, its fangs elongated into spear-like points dripping with corrosive, poisonous saliva. The ground began to collapse under the sheer weight of its intimidating aura.
In a literal blink, the beast vanished.
BOOM.
Justin was thrown three meters back by a phantom impact. The wolf reappeared, delivering four, five, six consecutive bites and a flurry of claw strikes. It was a desperate, frustrated onslaught. The beast used a heavy claw swipe as a bluff to create an opening, and seeing its chance, it unhinged its jaw and swallowed the butler whole.
The wolf simpered, savoring the kill—until it felt a sharp flick on its forehead.
The beast spun around, eyes wide. It hadn't eaten the man; it had consumed a lingering after-image. Justin stood a few feet away, laughing as he cracked his fingers. The monster realized it was facing a high-level combatant—perhaps a mage. It closed its eyes, focusing its senses to track the butler's mana.
"Oh, trying to act like a pro? Brilliant," Justin complimented.
He rushed forward and vanished again. The wolf sensed him behind its back and lashed out with its massive tail. Justin's body bent at a perfect ninety-degree angle, the tail whistling inches above his chest. As the wolf turned to blast him with poisonous breath, Justin lunged with a devastating uppercut.
The hit connected with the wolf's chin, sending the grizzly-sized beast spinning three hundred and sixty degrees into the air. It crashed back to the dirt like a wounded animal.
"Did that hurt? I'm just warming up," Justin bantered happily. "C'mon, give me some hype, you filthy scum!"
Infuriated, the Alpha wolf charged with the speed of a runaway train. As it ran, a cloud of black miasma erupted around it, coalescing into four medium-sized demon-kin minions. At their Alpha's command, the pack swarmed Justin simultaneously.
Justin faced the onslaught alone, armed only with the short sword at his waist—which he hadn't even drawn yet. The minions tore at him, but their claws failed to leave a mark. One tried to sink its teeth into his head, only for its fangs to shatter against his skin like glass.
"Is that all? Boring," Justin cackled, combing his hair back. "It's boring to the point I'll puke. Time to finish this before something flukes."
Suddenly, the shadows beneath the minions' feet turned into bottomless pits. The Alpha lowered its tail, shivering as its pack was instantly swallowed by the earth.
The Alpha courageously summoned a dozen more, but Justin didn't give them a chance to breathe. He cast [Dark Cummonue]. The minions' own shadows rose like obsidian hands, dragging their owners into the abyss. Justin watched their muffled struggles with a look of deep, dark pleasure.
"Hoho! Should have summoned a million of them if you wanted to scratch me!" Justin laughed, stepping toward the wolf. His face was wreathed in a dark, vicious mana that made the Alpha—a creature that knew no fear—start to back away.
It realized this wasn't a mere human. This was something ancient. Something dangerous.
The wolf opted to flee, but Justin showed a crescent moon smile. "Withdrawing now? Too late, puppy. I was going to use my sword, but you aren't even worthy of the steel."
The surface quaked as Justin released his inner mana, the pressure pinning the wolf to the ground. Desperate, the beast's eyes darted around until they landed on the two children huddling behind a rock.
The creature smirked. If it was going to die, it would take the Don's "precious" subjects with it. It vanished from Justin's sight, launching itself toward the twins.
"Oh shit!" Justin snapped his fingers. A carpet of shadow-sticks erupted from the ground to impale the beast, but the wolf ignored the pain, its limbs shredded as it used its momentum to fly toward the kids.
"Graaaarwh!"
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The demon beast was one meter away, its jaws open wide to crush the children who had embraced each other in terror.
But just as the fangs were about to close, a new figure entered the battlefield—full of guts and standing right in the path of the monster.
"Ah, crap. No, you don't," a gravelly, familiar voice declared.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
The rhythmic thunder of a submachine gun shattered the air. Several bullets slammed into the demon wolf's face, the kinetic impact throwing the massive beast backward just as its jaws were about to snap shut.
A young man in a merchant's outfit, his face obscured by a black gas mask, stood his ground. He held a sleek, black Tommy gun, with four copper rectangular magazines hanging from his belt. With the fluid efficiency of a seasoned operator, he ejected the spent magazine, slapped in a fresh one, and unleashed another torrent of lead. Hundreds of brass shells rained onto the dry earth, clinking like a deadly chorus.
The beast's face was shredded. The direct hits tore away its left cheek, exposing raw flesh, bone, and a lolling tongue.
Hermes Archnemesis, the young Don of a small-time clan, clicked his tongue behind the mask. He didn't stop. He emptied the magazine into the struggling monster until the firing pin hit an empty chamber. He reloaded again, moved closer to the whimpering beast, and began systematically shooting its limbs. Each burst cut through the wolf's legs like a knife through soft bread. The monster cried out, a pathetic, high-pitched whine—a predator reduced to a victim, begging for mercy.
"A filthy dog needs to learn its place," Hermes enunciated, his voice muffled but cold. "This creature must learn which is the supreme race in the world's ecosystem. To think you had the guts to target these children... you've proven you don't deserve to breathe."
He aimed for the wolf's heart, his lips pursed. But a hand gripped the barrel of the Tommy gun, tilting it down. It was Justin.
"Boss, let me. It is the servant's duty to finish the dirty work," the butler insisted.
"Move away," Hermes snapped, shoving Justin aside. He pulled the trigger again, the muzzle flash illuminating the dark forest's edge.
'Wicked... so wicked!' Justin thought, his heart pounding with devotion. 'My Don is a total savage. I thought he'd gone soft, but the hunger for the kill is still there. I am so proud.'
"What will you do with it now, my Don?" Justin asked as Hermes emptied his third magazine. "It's completely defeated. Tell me... did you feel anything, killing such a beast?"
In truth, Justin was testing him. Most fifteen-year-olds would be traumatized, paralyzed by the reality of blood and death. They were children who needed guardians to shield their eyes.
"Capable? Don't be ridiculous," Hermes responded abruptly, stomping his boot three times into the wolf's bleeding stomach. "Only fools with immature minds hesitate. When a person's interests are at risk, they protect them at all costs. Whether you're a veteran or a child, the body moves automatically."
"And the children? These 'insects' who witnessed this?" Justin asked, gesturing to the sobbing twins. "The uneducated commoners won't understand your 'generosity.' What will the public think?"
"I've read about this, Justin," Hermes replied, drawing on his knowledge of narrative tropes. "Generous men do not create victims; they nurture them. This creature was just a broken stone—it wasn't human life. History pays tribute to the dead, not the living. Saving these villagers will do us no harm. It's an investment."
"I see... I understand now, my Don," Justin said, bowing deeply.
Hermes slung the gun over his shoulder and approached the children. Terrified, they shrank back, pushing him away.
"Why you little—! Show some respect!" Justin growled, his nostrils dilating in fury.
Hermes held up a hand, signaling Justin to stay back. He saw the children weren't just afraid of him; they were staring at the twitching, mangled wolf with wide, traumatized eyes.
"Justin. A soundproof barrier. Now," Hermes commanded.
"Yes, sir." Justin cast the spell instantly, a shimmering dome of silence encircling the twins. They panicked, hitting the invisible walls, but they could no longer hear the carnage.
Hermes leveled the Tommy gun at the wolf's head. The beast looked up, its eyes shedding literal tears of agony.
"You won't achieve your dreams without getting your hands dirty," Hermes whispered. "Nice to meet ya, doggy. My name is Hermes Archnemesis. I'm the one who kills you. Be honored; you're my first. It's unfair, and I see the despair in your eyes... but that's how the mafia works."
BRRRRRRRT!
He emptied the final drum. The wolf's head shattered into a spray of gore. Organs exploded like squashed watermelons, and the beast's heart finally stopped. A stray droplet of blood hit Hermes's mask.
Justin stepped forward immediately, using his handkerchief to wipe the mask clean before the blood could dry.
"Justin. Clean up the mess and remove the barrier," Hermes commanded, his voice steady.
"Affirmative, sir."
The barrier vanished, and a dark magic circle began to consume the wolf's remains. Hermes turned and walked back to the car without a word. He stowed the Tommy gun and the magazines in the crate beneath the seat and finally pulled off the mask.
His face was beet-red, dripping with sweat.
'What the hell was that?!' Hermes thought, his heart racing. 'I'm so embarrassed! Those lines... I couldn't stop them! I sounded like a total chuunibyou villain! And the blood... thank god Justin wiped it off, I was about to puke. Keep it cool, Aljen... keep the bluff alive.'
"My Don, may I?" Justin asked, gesturing to Hermes's blood-spattered merchant coat with clinical precision.
"Proceed," Hermes permitted, focusing on slowing his racing heart.
The butler cast [Clean] and [Neat] in a single fluid motion. A shimmering wave of mana swept over the fabric, vaporizing every trace of gore and dust. The clothes looked as though they had just been pressed by a professional tailor.
"Amazing..." the twins whispered, their eyes wide as they watched the magic from the grass.
Hermes took a steadying breath and approached the children to greet them, but they immediately recoiled. 'Oof, that's a bad call,' Hermes thought, his skin prickling with nervous sweat. 'This rescue probably looks like an execution to them.'
He glanced back at the field. Justin's shadows had swallowed the wolf's corpse entirely; the grass was pristine, but the children remained petrified. To them, the "hero" was just a more efficient monster.
"My Don, the evidence is cleared," Justin said, his voice dropping into a chilling, level-headed register as he looked at the children with sudden, sharp bloodlust. "What shall we do with the little peasants? Do you want me to purge them, or enslave them like ants?"
The twins flinching, the boy shielding his sister as they withered under Justin's gaze.
"No, stop it," Hermes said firmly. "Neither purge nor enslavement is the answer. We aren't here for that."
"But my Don," Justin argued, his eyes fixed on the boy. "They witnessed your power. Peasants of their station shouldn't be allowed to walk away with such knowledge."
"Shut your mouth or I will smack your throat," Hermes snapped. "Don't tell me what to do, capiche?"
"Forgive me, sir," Justin replied, instantly pressing a hand to his chest.
Behind his calm facade, Justin's mind was racing. 'Ah, I see! My Don is applying the "Saviour's Debt" technique I taught him last summer. By sparing their lives and stopping my "cruelty," he makes himself the only light in their world. He is isolating their loyalty through a calculated play of good and evil. Truly, a masterclass in manipulation!'
'Shit, this guy is a walking disaster,' Hermes thought, unaware of Justin's internal praise.
He approached the twins with his hands raised. It failed miserably. The kids only grew more silent, their bodies locking up in "quiescence."
"Hey, kids. This masked man is a friend," Hermes appealed. "I know we just met, but I mean no harm. Don't look at me like that; those icy glares don't suit children."
As he got closer, he noticed the girl's knee was bleeding. Without thinking, he offered a bandage. "Are you alright? Please, bear with this," he said softly.
"Don't touch my sister!" the boy shouted, shoving Hermes back.
"Wait, let me help her—"
"Shut it!" the boy chastised. He snatched a tiny rock and hurled it.
CLACK.
The rock hit Hermes's right hand, leaving a stinging scratch. Hermes stood up quickly, hiding the bleeding hand. 'If Justin sees this, he'll kill them!'
"D-don't come any closer or I'll throw another one!" the boy warned, his hands and lips trembling.
"Oh, you've got some guts to hurt me, boy," Hermes said, his voice dropping into a terrifyingly dark tone to maintain his "Don" persona, even as his inner voice screamed: I'm friendly, you brat!
"You're showing your true colors!" the boy yelled. "That mask is scarier than the beast!"
"This?" Hermes pointed to his gas mask, letting out a dry chuckle. "You hit me because of a mask? How disappointing. The people of this village have no shame."
"S-shut up! My father isn't like that!" the boy defended.
"Is that so? You're disrespecting the person who saved your lives. Is this your gratitude? Have some shame," Hermes condemned.
"My father taught us manners! Stop ridiculing—D-don't get close, sir!"
The boy panicked as Justin suddenly blurred into motion. In one blink, the butler was behind them, his large hands clamped around their small throats.
"Hooo... so this is the payment for our service?" Justin's voice was like grinding stones. "Did your parents not teach you to say 'thank you' to a supreme being? Boy, I didn't like your tone. I let the rock slide, but this disrespect cannot be ignored. Prepare to meet the beast in hell."
"Halt!" Hermes ordered, grabbing Justin's arm.
"No, boss! They must learn respect!" Justin tightened his grip.
"Please don't hurt my sister! We apologize!" the boy begged, weeping.
"Please don't hurt my brother!" the girl whimpered. "We're sorry! Please release us!"
"Hooo, now you're talking?" Justin mocked. "Even if you beg, I'll still break your arms like boiled eggs."
"Justin, I order you to halt!" Hermes demanded.
"But boss, I cannot ignore treason! They drew your blood!" Justin insisted.
"Justin, listen. I am ordering you to halt for the second time. Are you planning a revolt? What kind of servant are you?!" Hermes blustered, his hand gripping Justin's wrist with all his strength.
Justin froze. A bead of sweat dropped from his forehead. He saw the genuine, offensive fury in Hermes's scarlet eyes and felt a thrill of terror. 'His acting is so perfect... he's even willing to threaten his most loyal servant to maintain the illusion of being a "merciful" savior to these children. His commitment to the long-con is unparalleled!'
"A-as you wish, boss," Justin gave in, his voice trembling in fright. He released his grip, and the twins collapsed to the ground, gasping and rubbing their bruised necks.
Hermes rushed forward, scanning the twins for injuries. Seeing their savior kneeling before them, Troy lowered his head, his face burning with regret. Although this masked man looked like a monster and had spoken harshly of their village, he was clearly the lesser of two evils compared to the demonic butler standing behind him.
"We're so sorry, mister," July whispered, her voice trembling. "My brother didn't mean to hurt you. He was just trying to protect me. We admit our mistakes."
"Me too," Troy added, his lips protruding in a pout of shame. "I apologize for hitting you. I'm so sorry."
Hermes felt a wave of relief wash over him. He reached out and gently patted their heads as a reward for their honesty. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. It's my fault for wearing this thing on my face. Forgive me for the remarks about your village; I didn't mean any disrespect. I know you were scared, but next time, try not to throw rocks at the people saving your life, okay?"
"Yes, sir," the twins nodded, finally convinced of his sincerity.
Justin clicked his tongue, a low snarl vibrating in his throat. He loathed these children for their insolence, but he was bound by his master's decree. 'Be thankful my Don is here, insects,' he thought, his eyes narrowing. 'Be very grateful.'
"Who are you, mister?" July asked sincerely.
Hermes scratched his cheek, carefully filtering his response. "I'm nobody special, little girl. Just a small-time businessman."
"Where are you from?" Troy inquired.
"I'm from the Southern Cimeria Continent," Hermes lied smoothly, drawing on his knowledge of the world map. "It's south of Italia, west of Algeria. You have to cross through Tunisia to get there."
The children marveled at the exotic-sounding names.
"Alright, take this bandage and cover your wounds," Hermes said, handing July the medical supplies. "And sorry again about my butler. He was just... doing his job."
Hiding his identity was a must. If the villagers found out a member of the Archnemesis family had saved them, he wasn't sure if they would reward him or hang him on sight. For now, he would be a ghost.
"Why was that beast chasing you?" Hermes asked.
"We were coming home from the Seerside garden when it came out of nowhere," Troy explained, bowing low. "Thank you for saving us, Mr. Mask Man. Thank you so much."
"I'm Aljen, the merchant," Hermes corrected with a grin. "And you are?"
"I'm Troy Camelia, and this is July. We're the children of the Village Chief of Neue Fiona. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Aljen."
Hermes's eyes widened. The Village Chief's children? This was better than he could have hoped for. He pointed his thumb toward his glowering servant. "And this is my personal devotee—I mean, my butler, Justin."
Hermes shot Justin a look that clearly said: Say hello. Play along.
Justin reluctantly placed a hand over his heart and gave a stiff, wordless nod. The twins smiled at him, but Justin's face turned a sickly shade of blue, his eyebrow arching in disgust.
"See? He's a good man and a gentleman," Hermes lied, cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Yes, a very good man!" the twins chirped in unison.
At the word "good," Justin looked like he was about to physically retch. He excused himself, turning away before he could lose his composure.
"Why don't you join us for a ride? It's free," Hermes offered.
"Is it okay?" Troy asked, looking at his muddy clothes. "We'll ruin the seats. Father says we should mind our appearance when people offer us things."
"Don't mind that," Hermes chuckled, then looked at his butler. "Justin, use the spell you used on me earlier. No questions. Just do it."
Justin obediently cast the spell. In a flash of light, the mud and sweat vanished from the twins' clothes. Their eyes sparkled in surprise. "Thank you very much!"
"Leave your baskets for Justin. He'll put them in the trunk," Hermes ordered. Justin disappeared and reappeared by the baskets, tossing them into the car with one hand.
As Hermes guided the children toward the vehicle, Justin leaned in, his voice a worried whisper. "My Don, seriously, what are you planning with these... guests?"
"Just go with the flow for now, Justin," Hermes replied.
"Yehey! A real car!" Troy rejoiced, bouncing on the soft, fluffy leather of the backseat. July's face beamed with delight, her fear replaced by the wonder of the most comfortable ride of her life.
Hermes climbed in after them, feeling the first stirrings of a successful mission. He was no longer just a villain; he was Aljen the Merchant, and he had just secured a direct line to the heart of the village.