<...loading...>
"As diligent as always, for a garbage mod."
<...of course. Our Executioner's life is at stake.>
"Shut it."
Mochi groaned as she stood facing Hans's confused gaze. His freshly bandaged stump gleamed under tavern lanterns.
"Little girl-uh..."
"Sorry, on a timer."
She raised four fingers. "I won't negotiate. Four. I need four things from you to clear out the four bandit leaders in this town."
"Wha-what is this all of a sudden?" Hans huffed, cradling his wounded arm.
"Oh right. You're still injured." Glancing at his 'breaded' hand, she turned away.
"You. Yes, you."
"Ah? Me?"
One of the thieves—a lanky man clutching a bow—pointed at himself.
"Sheryl Amberstone. Your sister. She was ill because of the Mouse Plague haunting Western Central City. And you're trying to steal enough for a high-tier health potion, correct?"
"Wait, what do you mea—"
"Two streets east, turn right at the corner. A scammer's selling a purple potion disguised as
"Wait wait wait, why should I—"
"Former Noble, Arden Amberstone." She glared. "Two days till the plague reaches your sister's lungs. Risk it now, or don't come crying to me later for a reload."
Arden hissed, untangling his bowstring. He looked to Hans for guidance, but the bartender just grunted and nodded.
"...I'll kill you if this is a lie."
"Four items." Mochi ignored the hollow threat. "Thief Guild's Cloaked Hood. Mask. Novie Mage's Ring. Best dagger you've got."
"Hans." Arden lowered his bow, signaling the others to stand down. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Hans sighed. "Give her the gear. Not because she passed the trial, but because she just saved an innocent's life."
Foolishly kind as always. Mochi huffed. "Hurry up."
---------------
"Ah. Forgot to ask for a room."
Mochi clicked her tongue, adjusting her ragged cloak as she exited the tavern. Two of the four items were already stashed in inventory—safe from Divine Lion patrols. Only the dagger remained at her hip.
"System." She twisted the Novie Mage's Ring on her finger. "You're basically an omnipresent camera, right?"
<...loading...>
"Weird quote, but I'll take that as a yes." Now... "Give me real-time locations for all four bandit leaders. They're—
<...loading...>
<...compiling...>
"Good. Now, my reward from earlier."
<...loading...>
"Ha?" Mochi nearly choked. "Did you... adjust the rewards on the fly? That's exactly what I want!"
"Damn right I do." She summoned the elixir and downed it in one gulp, shuddering as fatigue bled away. "By the way, why no stamina stat? HP and MP get numbers."
"So another feature locked behind your incompetence. Got it."
<...>
"Tch." Classic boss maneuver—dodge the question and point to deadlines.
----------------
"Here. Your breadstick."
The baker frowned at the red-stained end. "Why's this one...?"
"Strawberry jam." A deadpan gaze, before Mochi stowed away.
Shame for her. The Guildmaster's blood proabably tasted sweeter.
"Now, preparations..."
Mochi studied the schedules walking, mapping each kill for optimal timing. "One soul needed—fastest target first."
Even speedrunners knew patience. No routes. No consistency. No retakes.
Crash.
Fifteen metres ahead, two bandit goons (not leaders) towered over a fallen child with crushed apples.
"Tch. The Knights. And now a child." One grasped the child's hair. "Pests just stroll into our den, huh?"
"P-please... mister..." The child sobbed.
"Huh?!" The other goon raised a brow. "Well now a child likes to talk big, huh?"
Tattoo of teeth mauling a bear. The Howling Maw.
Mochi's eyes narrowed, hesitating. Three gangs in this town. Four leaders total—The Howling Maw had two brothers. More planning. More caution. Killing them all at once was preferred to avoid alerts.
Her pixeled dagger retracted. Goons weren't targets.
<...host?>
"I'm not doing it." She glanced through trembling crowds. "Because they will."
Knightly steps. Steady breathing. The crowd parted to reveal armor glinting with a golden lion emblem.
A squeaky, resolute voice scorned:
"You must be enjoying the fuck out of this, huh?"
"Ha? Who are you—"
Crunch.
A punch crushed the thug's spine. Knees buckled. Haelmira scoffed, stepping past him.
The blonde knight knelt, patting the child's hair. "My child." She hugged the child, her chest covering the girl's eyes. "I'm sorry for my late arrival."
"Uh-ha? No need! Pretty sister..."
Haelmira smiled—then glared at her knights, mouthing:
Take care of the rest.
Swords drawn. Ears covered. Heads chopped off.
Blood stained the knights' hair and backs—yet Haelmira's front remained pure, the child untouched by the world's malice.
"Sister...?" The child peered up. "What happened?"
"No need for you to know." Haelmira touched the crushed apples. Behind her, corpses dragged across stone.
Divine magic glowed. The apple's pieces swirled, reforming whole.
"I would not run so carelessly if I were you." She offered the restored fruit. "We won't be here every day. You must be strong. Understand?"
"...Thank you, sister."
"Don't mention it."
People scattered. The child clutched the apples and ran, smiling.
A typical scene—if not for the bloodstained hair and armor.
"So." Haelmira frowned. Divine flames surged, purging blood from her hair, her armor, the street's stones.
"It would seem there are rats to clear."
It's a race then, Faction Leader. Mochi smirked, turning and vanishing deeper into an alley's depths.
"System. I changed my mind."
<...?>
"Now that I think about it..." Her eyes scanned the schedules and shop menus. "Why should I let scum breathe another second? I'm scum myself, and even I feel ashamed walking."
<...>
"Thanks a lot." Unashamed by her lie's reward, she continued. "We can afford a few risks, right?"
"I've drafted a route." Madness swirled in her green eyes. "Lower the timer to fifteen minutes."
"What? You want me to help earlier, don't you?" Mochi tilted her head. "Start the timer."
<...>
<...sigh...>
Perfect. Mochi smirked and dashed.
-------------
Silas the Hollow-Tongue's morning routine never varied:
Wake late. Yawn. Don apron. Wobble to kitchen. Cook stolen eggs.
"Hm." He crunched eggshells. "My throat's sore..."
No ritual materials today. Another dull morning in the outskirts. The pan flipped.
"Ah." The egg slipped. "My break-"
CRACK. His window exploded. A masked figure tumbled through.
"Hello. Delivery service!"
Silas's incantation died in his throat as steel flashed.
Slice. Blood gushed from his neck.
"Oops." Mochi grinned. "It's pick-up service for hell. Bye bye, child-eater."
The Shaman's Wretch leader collapsed. Just another death - soon to be followed by three more.
"System."
"Buy
"Perfect." She looted and pocketed a MP potion. "Now, let's break another record."
Mochi leapt through the shattered window. The run had officially begun.