“That smells absolutely delicious!”

A vein pulsed at the side of my forehead as I slapped yet again another wandering hand away from the pot. The little bald boy that it was attached to shied away, drool pooling at the corner of their mouth.

“No touching until it’s ready!” I snapped, waving the ladle like a sword. Each swing forces the pack of orphans from the pot and my stuff. More than once someone had tried to do a grab and dash. You would think they would be more grateful to someone giving them a free meal.

[Is it though?]

As far as they are concerned, it is.

[What kind of man manipulates little kids?]

Choosing to ignore Armeria’s goading, I stirred the pot. Steam rose up as the porridge was brought to a boil. It was nothing fancy, just some oats, water, and a few scoops of honey. Scooping up a bite's worth, I blew on it before tasting it.

It’s been so long since I had hot food! So good!

[How the mighty have fallen.]

“Alright, If you want to eat, get in a neat line! I only have five bowls so some of you guys are going to have to share or wait for one to become free!”

I may as well have thrown a bone into a pack of rabid dogs. Utter chaos would be putting it mildly. It took all my strength and coordination to smack away the starving horde.

“Back up! I said to line up! No one is getting any food until you calmly get in line!” I shouted.

This only served to get the boys to fight to be first. Those stuck towards the back, struggled to swap places. Plenty of fists and kicks were thrown. If this kept up, an all out brawl was going to break out.

Great. I can’t even get this sorry lot to line up. How am I supposed to get them to do anything?

Letting out a heavy sigh, I waited to see how things played out. I had completely given up trying to get them to follow directions. They had been neglected all their lives, and here I was with a handout. Naturally they viewed each other as thieves trying to rob them. Perhaps I needed to start smaller. Handling one or two kids would have been the better route. My eagerness has caused my plan to implode at the first step.

“Alright boys, I brought you all here, and I’m telling you if the bossman says to line up, you do it! The bossman has plenty of food, I’ve seen it with my own eyes. You all are going to get to eat! Instead of paying, all you need is to follow his instructions!”

Roland, perhaps one of the smallest of the boys clapped his hands above his head. His voice was just loud enough to allow him to speak over the crowd. His cheeks were flushed red from the effort, and he stood on the tips of his toes in a tailed attempt to make himself more visible.

One of the other boys walked forward and spat on the ground. “Why should we listen to you?”

“Because I’m the bossman’s right hand man! And I am the one that invited you mannerless oafs. It’s my duty to make sure you listen to your host. That is, if you want to eat” Roland squinted his eyes and strutted right up to the loudmouth, and poked him in the chest. “If the bossman says to line up, you best listen.”

It looked like the other boy wanted to throw hands, but by some miracle he glanced my way. As the bossman, I couldn’t allow my underling to get beaten while backing me up. So, I stood tall and glared at the boy. Thumping the ladle into my free hand, and did my best impression of an angry housewife.

That seemed to knock some sense into the kid. It also helped that Roland poked and prodded the boy to the front of the line. He then proceeded to make a fuss with each of the unruly boys. He spitted insults at the boys at rapper-like speed, leaving them no opening before they were corralled. Eventually, a semblance of a line formed. Roland was still letting insults fly while taking position at the end.

“Do you have mush for brains? Do you even know what a brain is?”

“You! Yes you! Are those eyes for decoration? The line is here.”

“No you idiots! Stop trying to make it angle off! Stop using your peckers as reference, and listen to me!”

Who is this kid?

There was something magnetic about Roland. Maybe it was a combination of the way he carried himself and talking like he had some sort of ordained authority. The type of person people naturally flocked to. Regardless, he gave me a golden opportunity, and if I didn’t take it, this mob might actually charge me.

Serving them was pretty easy after that. Two kids each shared a bowl and spoon. Each would take turns scooping as much porridge as they could before passing the spoon. Roland shared a bowl with Finley, and I made sure to give them an extra large portion to empty the pot. Seeing them all sharing like civilized children brought me near to tears.

I waited until most were almost done before banging the side of the pot. A few ignored me and kept stuffing their faces, but I focused on those who gave me their attention. They seemed to be more receptive with food in their bellies. Yet, it was clear that they wanted more. So, under their gazes, I talked as I started another pot of porridge, eliciting a round of cheers.

“I hope you enjoyed the meal,” I said with a smile. Pausing to take in the nodding of heads and even more cheers. “What if I told you that I have an opportunity for you? A chance to earn more food.”

The room went silent. Even those who ignored me swiveled their heads, breathing ragged. Their confusion and trepidation failed to mask the sliver of hope held at the bottom of their hearts.

Why does it feel like there are a whole lot more of them all of a sudden?

Public speaking was never a problem for me before. Granted the majority of my experience were school presentations, but the air felt unbelievably heavy.

Taking a deep breath, I projected my voice with power. “Look around you! Are we not the dregs of the dregs?” No one cares about us! Aren’t you sick of it?”

“Yeah!” Roland popped to his feet and pumped his fist into the air.

Prompting a few others to mimic him and let loose yelps of agreement.

This is so cringy. Focus! And get this over with!

“We are too small to be included with the older kids, and too young to be recruited by the gangs. As for apprenticeship? The sky would sooner rain liquid gold before we get a chance.”

[Are you trying to rally them, or destroy what little self worth they have left?]

Can it.

“I say, ‘so what?’ Let them turn their noses up. They can stare at the sky and think they know our worth! I see you all for what you truly are!” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a lump of coal. “Raw untapped potential! With the right catalyst, your lives can burn bright with the intensity of pure fire!”

If crickets existed in this world, I swear I’d be able to hear them right now. Even Roland was staring blankly back at me. When did I lose them?

“What I mean to say,” I coughed. “Join me, follow my rules, and I’ll feed you for the next year.”

There we go.

Shouts of amazement and disbelief shattered the silence. To the point I was having trouble placating them.

“Why are you doing this?”

Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised, but the kid that had challenged Roland’s nonexistent authority earlier stepped forward. He had a memorable nose as it was oddly potato shaped and had freckles across his cheeks. I believe I had overheard one of the boys calling him Simon.

Raising a hand to stop Roland from defending me, I walked right up to the runt. In fact he was only about a head taller than Roland. “You seem to have reservations about me. That’s only natural.”

“Reservations? This isn’t some fancy restaurant!” Simon shouted and stepped in closer. “You simply sound an awful lot like those bastards of mine. Telling us we can become productive members of society and get free food and lodging. All in exchange for working under them. How are you any different?”

[Yikes, he read you like an open book!]

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

I frowned at him and sighed. “You compare me to those who partake in glorified slavery?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Maybe you’re right!” I retorted.

This caught Simon off guard, and he took a few steps back. Quite a few others stood up and looked ready to bolt.

“Or maybe you’re wrong,” I continued and put my hands gently on his shoulders. “We are the same. People like us have to stick together. The moment we were born, the world wanted to tear us down before we took a single step. I am offering you and everyone here a chance to be a part of something greater. Put your faith in me, and I will show you a future you could only dream of.”

Simon shrugged my hands off and crossed his arms. His beady dark eyes appraised me. “You sure like to try and talk all fancy. You don’t have my trust, but you do have my stomach. I’m in.”

Was kind of hoping you’d walk. Ah, I can already feel what a pain in the ass you’re going to be.

“I welcome you with open arms!” I said and gave him a bear hug. Watching his eyes bulge as the air left his lungs was a small consolation prize.

Others scrambled to come up to me, offering pledges of loyalty and calling me boss. I wasn’t particularly aiming to be some mob don, but why not? What was the worst that could happen?

***

“Disloyal brats,” I grumbled as I scrubbed the last of the bowls.

How was I supposed to be a leader if I failed to rally them to do the dishes? Even Roland was nowhere to be seen. On the other hand, he was quick to promise to be here first thing in the morning. Perfectly on time for breakfast.

“Why are ya doing this?”

I cocked my head back. Savoring the satisfying crack as I peered up at Finley. She had been quiet for the most part. Last I saw her, she was making small talk with Roland. At some point she had disappeared.

“The dishes?” I asked with a yawn.

She lightly kicked me in the back, a nudge really. In return I held out a piece of cloth; which she snatched and plopped down beside me. She picked up a bowl and started to dry it. Her eyes clearly silently telling me I better start talking.

“It’s simple. A rising tide lifts all boats.”

“We’re alone, ya can drop the act.” Finley huffed and moved on to drying the silverware.

My jaw dropped. Did I seem like that big of a poser? Leading really wasn’t in my DNA. Maybe I should take my goods and become a traveling merchant for real. It would be lucrative and I would get to see this strange new world. Heck, becoming one of the richest men in the country as an arms dealer sounded pretty badass. My lips pursed as I felt annoyed with that perfectly viable idea.

“I want to create something,” I finally responded.

“A gang?”

“No, that was Roland and the rest getting ahead of themselves. Well, maybe they weren’t too far off?” I hummed and stood up after finishing the last of the drying. Raising both arms over my head, I stretched towards the ceiling. “By ourselves, we are all easy targets for bullying and exploitation. If I can gather a large enough group, we stand a better chance of survival.”

“So ya are using them?”

I shook my head and lifted the pot. “Like I said before, ‘a rising tide lifts all boats’. If left alone, over half of those who ate from this pot will never reach adulthood, and that’s a conservative estimate. Hunger, violence, the elements, disease, and so many other challenges. How can a kid be expected to go against all of that and come out the other side? Together we at least stand a chance.”

“I see,” Finley muttered.

“Will you join?” I asked, rubbing my hands against my shirt. “It’s not some boys only club. Uh, um. No need to answer right away.”

Finley fidgeted, got up, and walked towards her bed. “I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, wait!” I said and hopped to my feet. I rummaged inside my sack and pulled out the medicine and bandages. “I got these for you. For your wounds.”

Finley quietly took and inspected them. “Thank ya.”

“No problem,” I grinned and rubbed the back of my head. “Actually, I have one more thing to give you.”

“What is it?” Finley asked with raised brows.

With wide gestures, I pullout a simple cotton dress. “Ta-da! I know it’s nothing special, but it’s better than what you have. No offense.”

“How can ya afford all this? There is no way ya could have stolen it all?”

“Don’t worry about it. I had a bit of luck, that's all. I smiled and forced the dress into her hands.

She carefully draped it over her shoulder, and gave me one last look before leaving.

Phew! I almost blew that. What’s her problem? All I did was invite her. She acted like I offered her a slice of chocolate, then shoved it down a puppy’s throat or something.

[That’s one twisted imagination. You know she is a loner. You basically watched her learn to walk, and asked out of the blue to climb a mountain. That is a more accurate and humane analogy.]

Whatever.

[Are you sure about this? You may be creating problems down the road.]

I’ve already made up my mind. I’ll be depending on you in the future.

[Hmmm…]

What is it now?

[Nothing. Even after losing your memories, a sliver of the old you remains. It’s… Comforting.]

Awkward. Based on how she described herself, she was basically some form of magical/spiritual AI that was stapled onto my (or more specifically White’s) soul. Yet it was like having another person in my head. As annoying as she was, it was best for neighbors to get along.

[Where are you going?]

I had already left the warehouse, and was making my way towards the market district.

I’m going to need more money if I’m going to keep these guys fed.

[But it’s so late, would the stores be open?]

Ah…

[…]

***

I walked out of the store with a wooden sign that had the name Extra Arms. Even the sign was modeled after an arm, a quite muscular one at that.

Man, I should really consider becoming an arms dealer. Maybe that sign is a literal sign.

This time I had sold a batch of Troborian Arrows. They were nothing special, with the exception of the poison coated on the tip. It was meant to paralyze something called a Gigallar. From what Armeria had told me, the beasts kind of reminded me of kaiju. It would also be useful to note that those “Arrows” were more like short spears that had no fletching. The buyer was a tad perplexed what the notches at the bottom were for. I passed it off that the “crafter” wanted to design a way for a spear wielder to catch a sword.

[Careful there, you’re starting to sound like a cultist. I would be skeptical of trusting “higher powers” if I were you.]

It’s a figure of speech.

[Earth had to have been one weird place.]

Really? You and White have a bizarre dislike for Earth. If this world is a benchmark, Earth was pretty normal.

[Says you. There are only a handful of mana restricted zones in all of the known universe. My ability to do anything depends on having access to mana.]

So, you have no memories when I was Kento?

[It’s a gaping black hole in my mind.]

Yet you are familiar with things like chocolate? I have yet to see any in this world.

[Ah, one of the mysteries of the universe. Give it a couple of lifetimes, and you’ll notice certain concepts are commonplace. There are many theories as to why.]

“Regardless, those little shits sure can eat,” I said, wanting to dodge a lesson on something my wee brain would struggle to make sense of, and made my way to buy some more grain. “I swear there were more of them today.”

[You would be correct. It would seem you are becoming more popular.]

I freaking knew it!

It got me thinking back on all the new faces. One in particular was pretty noteworthy. A genius pickpocket that was a font of juicy gossip.

Paying the vendor, I lifted the sack of grain over my shoulder. It was heavy enough to be considered a workout. At least I was getting some strength training in.

This must be what a deer surrounded by wolves must feel like.

As I was making the trek back, I could feel countless stares digging into my back. I must look like a juicy target. Staying out on the main street would have been preferred. Unfortunately, poor city planning struck again. Like how was there not a major street to the port?

Sure enough, a bunch of familiar faces soon blocked my path. Dustin stepped forward, bouncing his machete on his shoulder.

“Well boys, this has to be the weirdest thing I have ever seen. What’s a gutter rat like you doing with all that food?”

Oh shit.

Looking around, I noticed that a few onlookers made no attempt to stop the wanna be thugs as they ushered me down an alleyway. In fact, I could almost swear that a few were disappointed that they failed to rob me first. Taking food from a single kid was vastly different from a group of shabbily armed teenagers.

“Hey, Dustin,” I let loose a nervous chuckle and dropped the bag of grain onto the ground. “Long time no see.”

“Stuff it,” Dustin sneered. With a lift of his chin, the others boxed me in.

“Hold on!” I said and raised my hands. “Let’s try to be reasonable. This grain isn’t mine. You take it all, and my employer will come knocking.”

This got Dustin to frown. He probably hadn’t been exaggerating earlier when he said that this situation was weird. Hopefully this would be enough to get him to back off. Not without taking a cut of course.

The fist that proceeded to not so gently caress my face made it pretty clear that my attempt to de-escalate failed. Stars flooded my line of sight as my head slammed onto the ground. Blood flew from my mouth as I let out an involuntary gasp.

[Master!]

“Take it,” I sputtered, trying to find my feet.

Man, this was going to set me back for sure. Finding buyers was a nonissue. The problem came in how suspicious I would seem to anyone paying attention to the local markets. A sudden influx of high quality weapons would attract attention. And I was positive I didn’t want to pique the interest of the type of individuals who pay attention to that sort of thing.

“So, why do you have this grain? Who in their right mind would hire trash like you?” Dustin snarled, his body looming over me. He pressed the tip of his machete against my abdomen. “Be honest, or I’ll cut you open like a pig.”

“Armeria, Klearan Mar-“

Another punch, this time landing square on my nose, made my whole world go black.