"That's right!"
Vuri's words coincided with the completion of a fresh serving. A perfectly seared cut of meat, glistening with fat and radiating heat, was placed directly in front of Shinji. The aroma was so intoxicating that his stomach gave another traitorous growl.
At that moment, an elderly woman approached. Seeing her, Vuri's face brightened with familiarity.
"Well, well," he chuckled,
"if it isn't the old crone visiting again."
She didn't miss a beat, her voice calm and steady.
"How are things? Have you run into any more trouble lately?"
Her gaze then drifted to the boy.
"Oh, and who might this be?"
Vuri stepped forward, placing a heavy, protective hand on Shinji's shoulder.
"This is my apprentice, Shinji!"
Shinji scrambled to bow.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am!"
The woman offered a gentle, maternal smile. "Hello, Shinji. My name is Maya. It's a pleasure to meet you as well."
She turned back to Vuri.
"Anyway, if you aren't in any trouble, I'll be on my way."
As she walked away, Shinji picked up his utensils, his curiosity piqued.
"Mr. Vuri, who was that?"
"Just a neighbor,"
Vuri replied dismissively.
"She lives not far from here."
Suddenly, a coarse, arrogant voice boomed from the doorway, shattering the peace. "Vuri! Where are you hiding, you old dog?!"
Vuri glanced at Shinji, his expression hardening.
"Stay here, Shinji. I have business to attend to."
From inside the shop, Shinji watched as Vuri stepped out to face a man with a thick, unkempt beard. The stranger wore a crimson cloak adorned with jewels—an aristocratic look that was betrayed by his thuggish demeanor.
"Listen, old man,"
the man sneered.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll hand over this month's protection money."
Vuri's jaw tightened, though he fought to keep his voice level.
"Gomme, I paid you a long time ago. Now get out of here so I can run my business."
"Who do you think you're talking to?" Gomme snapped.
"Twenty silver coins, right now, or I'll tear this shack to the ground!"
Inside, Shinji's mind raced through the math. A meal cost five copper pieces, and it took ten coppers to make a single silver... twenty silver was a small fortune.
Outside, Vuri was losing his patience.
"This is the third time you've come this week. Please, just leave me be."
Gomme's lip curled into a cold smirk.
"Fine. If you want to do this the hard way, don't come crying to me when you're bleeding."
Unable to hold back any longer, Vuri snatched up a heavy iron ladle and swung it toward the brute. But Gomme didn't flinch. He merely barked a command:
"Longeole!"
In the blink of an eye, a projectile whistled through the air, piercing Vuri's hip. Blood sprayed across the dirt, and the old man collapsed with a cry of agony. Gomme stepped forward, grinding his boot into Vuri's head.
"This is the price of rebellion."
Panicked, Shinji lunged forward to help, but he was stopped dead in his tracks. A cold, sharp edge of blade was pressed against his throat.
The blade bit into his skin, and a thin trickle of blood began to run down his neck. Standing before him was a man with his face obscured by a cloth wrap. From outside, Gomme's voice echoed:
"Back off, Tibs. We want their money, not their lives."
The man, Tibs, hesitated before retreating to Gomme's side. Beside them stood a figure in a full-head mask—Longeole, the one who had thrown the dart.
Shinji rushed to Vuri's side, propping him up. The old man had lost consciousness, and blood continued to soak through his clothes. Maya reappeared, her face pale as she helped Shinji support the heavy weight of the chef.
"Auntie Maya, stop them!"
Shinji pleaded, his voice trembling.
"They're going to destroy the shop!"
Maya only shook her head, her voice heavy with despair.
"We can't, Shinji... they are the subordinates of Rascha-Xena. Their power is absolute."
A crowd of townspeople had begun to gather, watching from a safe distance. None dared to step forward. Whispers of
"How terrifying..."
and
"To cross Gomme is suicide..."
rippled through the onlookers.
Shinji's teeth ground together. Overcome by a surge of helpless rage, he threw himself toward Gomme.
But in that instant, another figure intercepted him.
Shinji was slammed violently into the dirt. A massive hand clamped around his throat, pinning him down, while another hand gripped a heavy war hammer. With cold, calculated cruelty, the attacker pressed the shaft of the hammer down onto Shinji's pinky finger.
A sickening crunch echoed through the air.
Shinji let out a gut-wrenching scream. The immense pressure had completely crushed the bone.
The attacker, a man in a dark hood, looked up as Gomme called out,
"That's enough, Dukana. We have what we came for."
With a casual wave of his hand, Gomme signaled his men. Dozens of thugs armed with spears and clubs pushed back the crowd, storming into the eatery to smash the furniture and bleed Vuri's life savings dry.
Struggling to remain conscious through the white-hot pain, Shinji managed to stand. Maya and a few brave souls rushed over to help, half-carrying the boy and the old chef toward a nearby infirmary.