Bonifacius and the two members of his empire walked through the streets, they were average-looking, not clean per se, but not dirty either.
“Are thou sure we cannot stay at the inn?” Bonifacius asked.
“Of course! It’s dangerous! Besides, we need a base of operations without too many prying eyes and ears!” the first guard exclaimed.
Bonifacius scratched his head.
“I see…”
“Eh – now that I think about it, I know not what to call thee!” Bonifacius exclaimed.
“I’m Frednutter, level twelve axe-user at your command!”
“I’m MilkmanTim, level eight mace-user, also at your command!”
Bonifacius laughed.
“I see, I am Bonifacius, shield and sword class! Level fifty-three!” he announced himself loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear.
The two henchmen looked up to Bonifacius, they’re forced, stern expressions breaking into an expression of shock.
“F-F-F-FIFTY-THREE!?!?!” demanded Frednutter.
“Indeed!”
“With your level… you could take them down without any trouble!” MilkmanTim said shakily.
Bonifacius grinned.
“DON’T TELL HIM THAT! NOW HE’LL THINK OF US AS USELESS!”
“I see!” Bonifacius exclaimed, happy at the thought of his two companions not getting hurt.
“Y-yes! But what about the people!” Frednutter reminded him!
“The people?” asked Bonifacius.
“Mhm, the people have strong ties to the gang! If we act rashly, we could have a rebellion on our hands!” he exclaimed.
Bonifacius scratched his beard.
“I see…”
“That does indeed make sense…”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Bonifacius crossed his arms.
“Well, as locals how would you reach the hearts of these people?” Bonifacius asked.
“HE’S TESTING US!” MilkmanTim thought.
In a shaky voice, Frednutter replied: “W-well, there’s this one alchemist making product for their gang… if we take it over, we can have them make us the goods,”
“Goods?” Bonifacius questioned.
“Y-yeah, like – Moomroot extract,” MilkmanTim proposed.
“I see…” Bonifacius wasn’t much of an alchemist, he wasn’t sure what Moomroot extract was.
“Perhaps it’s a spice, or topping for food! Maybe a drink?”
His interest piqued, Bonifacius asked: “W-well… is it healthy?”
The two gang members looked at him.
“...”
“…”
“No?”
Bonifacius clasped his hands.
“Well, that’s that then, we cannot give out unhealthy consumables,” he explained.
“…”
“…”
The two looked at each other in shock at the unusual methods of their new leader.
“I have a better idea!” Bonifacius exclaimed.
The two led Bonifacius to their base of operations, an empty house located in the west part of town.
Bonifacius rolled up his sleeve.
“I’m no expert, but if we really want to make goods for the people, we should do it ourselves!” Bonifacius exclaimed.
“Alright, men, put thy weapons away!”
Twenty minutes later…
Bonifacius, as well as his two henchmen, stood in the kitchen.
“Am… am I doing this right?” Frednutter asked, his hands covered in white powder.
“Indeed, thou are doing great!” Bonifacius assured him.
He was kneading the dough.
MilkmanTim was cooking the freshly-picked berries in the pot, a bit of sugar and salt the only thing in the pot aside from the fruit itself and a splash of water.
“Uhm… boss…?” MilkmanTim spoke up.
“Yes?” Bonifacius looked over towards him.
“How are pastries going to help us win the people over?” he asked.
“Well, would thou attack thy baker?” Bonifacius asked.
The two remained silent.
“I suppose not…” they both said in unison.
The group continued baking cookies.
They were round with a heart-shape inside, it was filled with the berry jam.
A tray of around two-dozen cookies just came out of the oven, Bonifacius placed the tray on the counter as he put another tray in the oven.
Meanwhile, outside…
Two men stood outside the house, they both wore black cloaks and held swords in their hands.
“So, this is their base…” the first one remarked.
“Mm, the boss told us to gauge their strength first, they might be worth keeping around after all,” the other laughed.
“Alright, I’ll go in first,” the first man said.
“Right,” the other nodded.
The man snuck his way towards the door, quietly pressing his ear to the door.
Hearing nothing other than a casual conversation, he took a step back and kicked the door open.
The man dressed in a brown coat entered the home, he had white-blue hair, it was shoulder-length and bangs that bent out-wards exposing the man’s face.
Unlike the two guards, this person looked more refined.
He placed his hands in the coat pocket as he waltzed over to the couch and sat down on it looking very smug.
He turned towards Bonifacius with an expression that looked almost like he was pitying them.
“Oh no! It’s one of the old boss’ higher-ups!” MilkmanTim thought looking over to Bonifacius who didn’t look concerned.
Bonifacius and the light-haired stranger maintained eye-contact for almost a minute before the man finally opened his mouth.
He began to scream.
“AH FUCK!” he jumped off the couch revealing that it was the place MilkmanTim and Frednutter put their weapons away.
One of the spikes of the mace stabbed the smug-man in the ass while he was trying to look cool.
“Tch… g-guess I fell for your trap!” he announced looking to Bonifacius.
Out of respect for the person before him, Bonifacius didn’t dispel the idea that the weapons were a trap.
“I-I guess you really are a worthy opponent…” he forced a grin as he covered the bleeding ass-wound with his hand.
Slowly he inched his way out of the building, leaving a bloody trail on his way out and losing more blood than he should.
Eventually, he dropped to the ground, a few meters away from the house, exposing his bloody ass-wound to his ally who was waiting in the bushes this entire time.
“W-WHAT THE HELL HAVE THOSE MONSTERS DONE TO YOU, JERRY!?” cried the ally seeing his bloody ass.
With only the purest intentions, Bonifacius stepped out of the house, spotting both men.
“Tell your friend to be more careful where he sits next time!” he announced with a friendly wave before shutting the door.