[After making up your mind, you head to the back kitchen, just in time to see several helpers feeding the pigs. Without saying a word, you rush forward, raise your palm as a knife, and cut open a big fat pig. Blood splatters onto the ceiling—this is a normal pig.]
["Who are you?""Fool, kneel! Is this even someone you dare question?""Sir, who are you looking for? We're just workers, please don't kill us!"]
[The people present have never seen such a scene, and each one trembles like a sieve. At first, a few hotheads wanted to blame you, but they were stopped by perceptive seniors, who kneeled down to beg for mercy.]
[You pay them no mind and focus on being a pig butcher. The second hog is cut open—normal; the third pig is cut open—normal; the fourth, fifth, sixth...]
[Under your fierce wrist, these fat pigs are no match. Your blade rises and falls, slaughtering them and causing blood to erupt like a spring, flooding half the kitchen.]
