It's been a couple of weeks since I moved in with Buster, and from what I've seen, the weather only seems to be getting somehow even colder, with the freezing temperatures being low enough to freeze you to death if you aren't wearing a coat or something of the sort in seconds.
My tasks are relatively simple: I clean, cook, wash clothes, and other stuff like that. I've been working on my hand carving techniques in my spare time, using a dull knife and some pieces of wood to understand better how to craft since I need weapons to be helpful as a hunter.
On the menu today was some simple vegetable and meat stew that I thought would taste nice after tasting all the vegetables available to me, which looked like potatoes, tomatoes, and whatever these white thingies were called, onions or something like that. No matter, I didn't need food to survive anyway. All I needed was some blood now and then.
Getting blood wasn't hard either as Buster was usually able to catch small rabbits and other small animals to feed me fresh blood since dead blood has a disgusting iron-like taste that I did not like one bit, at least fresh blood had a better taste like that of grape juice if grape juice were more gore.
As I cook inside the cabin, I hear Buster returning home, but instead of coming straight in, he stops and turns around. I listen to voices all over the cabin as if they surround Buster. "We know you have our prey, Buster; give it up or face the consequences!" One voice I knew all too well says while Buster laughs.
"And if'n I don't?" Buster responds with pressure near the cabin and probably all over the surrounding forest. It feels like it could make you crumble all of a sudden. I definitely felt it right away; that strenght and aura of a true fighter was frightening.
"So you're strong! So what!? We are twenty; no matter how strong you are, you can't win, Buster; give us the prey." As the wolfman responded, the pressure got even more potent, almost pinning me to the ground with how intense it felt; all I could do now was to hide behind the door and wait as Buster did his thing.
"Well, I am afraid to say, gents, that your prey is now under my protection; if you want them, then you will have to do it over my dead body," Buster's voice sounds incredibly menacing as the wolf people all start retreating behind their leader probably thinking that the risk outweighs the reward.
"You're committing a grave mistake, Buster. We will not leave the kid alone; if you are in the way, we will just have to wait for more to arrive. This is not over!" The wolfman who had managed to flee the first time was the one who now led an attack team to try and get me back, which was kind of scary since I thought they would just leave me alone.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
"How many Werewolves does it take to take down an old geezer like me? One Hundred? Two hundred? Is your kind really that weak?" Buster responds with such tempting words that the leader immediately turns around, angrier than ever, along with his friends, who get ready to fight.
{Ready to duel - Yasuharu Takanashi}
"Shut up, old man! We will kill you right now!" While all I could see was through the door crack, what I saw next was truly astonishing as Buster easily started punching the werewolves away with so much ease it would make you think they were not that strong, but take in mind that they quickly destroyed my mom who was supposed to be a mature vampire lady.
"You call this strenght? This is strenght!" Buster says as he catches the leader's hand just to rip it off his body like he was made out of paper and then just bite it right before him as the werewolf yawns and screams in pain, all while his friends are easily thrown around against trees and rocks nearby all while avoiding destroying the house.
Who the hell was Buster anyway? I mean, I loved that he was on my side, but my god, he was a monster, a mighty monster with a kind heart and love beyond any other; just how did he get so strong? Was it the result of living in the woods alone his whole life?
{Sound of airwaves clearing up}
"Grade two!" As soon as Buster finishes inhaling a lot of air, he suddenly poops his chest clear open with nothing but muscle, as well as his arms and thighs become huge like those of a dedicated bodybuilder, almost like he used air or magic to achieve such a herculean physique which was incredibly frightening to look at.
"Come on! Let's go! I'm just warming up!" Buster screams as the werewolves start retreating while squealing like hurt dogs after their master educates them.
"Bastard! Ugh! Retreat! Retreat! Ugh! Fuck you, old man! Ugh!" The pack leader simply packs up and runs away toward the bushes while his comrades follow him, all humiliated and defeated by the mighty Buster, whom I now wanted to learn from more than ever before; if I could fight like him, holy hell, I would be unstoppable!
The pressure around the area soon becomes incredibly dull as Buster slowly walks back toward the house while his physique returns to normal. The best part of the whole thing is that he doesn't even mention his fight with the wolves until I ask him about it.
"Thank you for not giving up on me, Buster; I am in your debt." Buster simply places his hand over my head and pats it with love and care, almost making me feel like he thought of me as his daughter or something.
"Don't mention it; I told you you'd be safe. I never break my promises. Now, what did you make for dinner? I am starving." If there ever needed to be a definition of stoic behavior, then Buster would be the clear example as he was clearly a little hurt from his short fight, but even so, he didn't show any signs of weakness to me, nor did he complain about it even one bit. Was I feeling admiration or love, for god sake?