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How The Weak Live
7. The Dead Butcher

7. The Dead Butcher

As much Lucious wanted to get into the middle of the fuckfest, doing so with his bare fists was a sure way to become the Ghoul’s meal. He’s seen what those teeth could do to bones, and he would rather keep all his flesh on his body at all times. Instead, and only for this time, Lucious thought, he would do the right thing first.

Dodging a few broken tables, a few men skirmishing with chairs in their hands, and a Ghoul having the meal of his life, Lucious quickly making his way to the kitchen door, where all the pointy objects were kept. Halfway through, however, he heard the piano. It was a slight, condensed sound. Quite and experimental, the same way a hesitant child might press the keys. A man fell, screaming as Ghoul made mincemeat out of him. Through the gap, he saw the pianist, 20 meters away, the same one who was previously playing. Short and wavy dark brown hair covered her ears. She had her eyes closed as she played softly. Lucious once again found himself staring at her. There was something that was off. He spent a few dangerous moments standing still, his mind slightly blank.

Then she opened her eyes, looking directly at Lucious. Dark green. Then absolute horror filled his mind.

That’s all he saw before every fiber of his being screamed at him. His body moved, his mind momentarily losing conscious. By the time he snapped out of it, he found his himself running towards the kitchen, cold sweat covering his back. And Fear, lots, lots of Fear.

Skill Gained: Seventh Sense ®

What your mind won’t understand, your body will.

Ignoring the status screen, and swallowing a painful lump of weakness, Lucious broke through the crowd,  gaining in vision of the kitchen entrance.

Blocking the double doors was the brawny Chef, in all his might and glory, wielding a foot long butcher Cleaver, the perfect meat cutting tool. His left hand at a heavy set of iron gloves, originally used to bring out hot pots out of smoldering brick ovens, this one was used to block strikes from overeager Ghouls. Surprisingly, this Chef was sufficiently able to hold off two Ghouls, though not without getting a few deep gashes on his thick arms. Standing next to him were two assistance with pointy knives, slashing whenever the Ghoul’s tried to circle the Chef. Probably, it was the only reason the Ghouls didn't try to run the Chief down. Smart guy, holding a narrow point instead of fighting in the open. The Ghouls were even smarter though, since from the looks of things, they’ll last longer. The Ghoul’s dark purple blood was mixed with the Chef's red, coloring the giant man’s apron in a wide variety of colors. The Chief kept attempting to get a deep cut, but each time the Ghoul stepped back. The moment they would leave the doors covering their backs, was the moment the Ghouls would strike.

The dead waitress on the ground, the same one that had previously served Lucious, was proof of that.

The Chef and his men weren’t quick enough to lock them down, but Lucious was. His muscles pulsed, the adrenaline soaking his blood in sedatives, urging him forward. His bones felt tight, sturdy steel instead of brittle sticks. Pumping himself forward, Lucious charged, savoring the air’s embrace as his shoulder crashed into the unsuspecting Ghoul. Their body weights being roughly equal, all Lucious did was tip the beast forward a few stuttering steps. The Chef was surprised but promptly took advantage of the opportunity. He lifted the Cleaver over his head, expertly relaxing all his muscles, then came down with the weight of his entire body.

Strikes such as these are ridiculously impractical in battle. Not only is it difficult to correctly aim and align the edge of the blade correctly, few are stupid enough not to move out of the way, but for the poor Ghoul’s case, it didn’t really have the option. The Cleaver dug halfway into its neck, probably stopping at the spine.

Meanwhile, Lucious himself was off-balance after the shove. For the ninth hundred time, Lucious wished he weighed more, was bigger, and a couple feet taller. Unable to back-step, or step under the range of the second Ghoul’s claw, he had to take a  hit.

It lunged forward, swiping with his right hand at Lucious’s neck. The only way Lucious could defend his neck was by placing his knuckles in front of the Ghoul’s palm, just blew the sharp edges of its nails. Which wasn’t hard, since the Ghoul’s trajectory rarely changed. Lucious saw what those could do to flesh, and once again, he did not anticipate experiencing any of it.

It worked, somewhat. Lucious was not able to completely stop the strike, but he was able to slow it long enough to duck under it. His left wrist slightly twisted, the impact shuddering his arm, but dealing no damage otherwise. As he ducked forward, the beast’s left hand thrusted downward, instead of swiping. The smart thing realized it could not swipe when Lucious was so damn close. Fully out of position, and under the beast, Lucious’s only option was to step forward again. The thrust that was aimed at his neck ricocheted off his angled shoulder blades instead, taking a bit of flesh out of Luscious but otherwise keeping his organs inside his skin. 

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Level 9 Ghoul dealt minor cut -10 HP. Shallow Bleeding -1 HP Per Minute for 5 Minute or until Bandaged.

Disease Failed. 

Before the pain could register, Lucious brought his fists up with the entire force of his legs pushing him forward, twisting his upper body for each bit of force he could add. Not knowing whether the Ghoul’s groin was a weak spot, Lucious opted out for sinking his fist inside its guts. The beast might have been quick and lethal, but it’s skinny body and lack of muscle meant it went down just as quick. The beast hunched forward from the might of the blow, it’s teeth coming dangerously close to Lucious’s neck. Feeling death a few inches away, Lucious slightly pushed the beast away with his outstretched arm as he fell backward, landing on his butt.

Just as the beast readied himself to pounce, one of the Chief's men finally gained enough brain cells to rub together, only now figuring out that it was a pretty good time to kill the fucking thing. He charged forward, knife shaking in hand, stabbing the distracted beast in the neck. The 8-inch knife went 5 inches in. Not bad for an immature. It released an identical screech to the last Ghoul he had killed, though this one much more primitive. Unfortunately, The Chef's assistant made the mistake of not retreating immediately after. The beast turned madly, left arm crashing straight into the man’s chest, sending him a good two feet back. As it turned completed its turn, however, it met face first with the Chef's signature chop. The Cleaver went in for a good four inches inside the Ghoul’s skull before it stopped.

The beast froze, its eyes meeting in the middle, attempting to look at the Cleaver. Its eyes unable to see the blade inside of it, it tipped its heads slightly up, still looking for the Cleaver. A still moment later, the Ghoul dropped backward.

Level 9 Ghoul Killed. 30% Experience gain.

 Lucious glanced at the corpse a few feet away from him.

Level 10 Ghoul Killed. 50% Experience gain.

+5 Achievement Points for winning barehanded against higher level enemies.

+7.2 Battle points.

The blue screen did not appear until he was aware that the other Ghoul was dead, Lucious observed, reserving that piece of information for future use. He would leave decoding rest of the screens later after the undead monsters were...dead. As he was about to pull himself up, the Chef offered him a bloody hand, purple and red blood mixed together. “Not bad for a child.” He said, spitting red blood to the side.

Considering I saved your life, sure. Regardless, Lucious allowed the man to lift him up. Lucious was probably around 130 pounds, while the Chef's muscular figure looked to be at least double that while being a foot taller than him. Bald and imposing, he looked to be in his late 30s. Even the staff working in the kitchens are handsome, Lucious thought, calming the rage in his blood. While Bloodlust allowed soldiers to decapitate their enemies easier, it was not a great state to be in when speaking.

“You too, Chef. With those chops, no wonder the pork tasted great.”

The Chef grunted though it was a grunt full of pride. There are many people like that, in the army. They communicate better through spitting and grunts than primitive old speaking. Lucious was on his feet, yet the Chef did not go, looking at Lucious oddly. “These hands are too rough to belong to a child.” An intimidating, and smart man, this Chef was. Even while a massacre was occurring, he was still level-headed enough to be skeptical about the person that saved his hind. “You’re one of those people, aren’t you?” The Chef grimaced as he released his hand, bending down to wiggle the Cleaver out of the dead corpse. He apparently was not found of Lucious’s lineage.

Lucious nodded. “There are about 20 Ghouls left, and nearly 30 of us left.” Lucious initial estimates were off, but after running through the mob he gained a better understanding of the situation. “Some idiots tried to leave the building, and ended up as food for the Ghouls when they were left in a corner, with no weapon to defend themselves with.” Each Ghoul was as lethal as a human adult, but only if the humans had a weapon, and from the looks of it, most of them didn’t.

The Chef nodded, gaining a rough insight of the situation. “There were about 7 in there. We killed 5 of them, while they got…” The Chef shook his head, immediately ordering one of his assistants, the panic-struck one, to bring out every sharp object in the kitchen. The Chef turned back to Lucious, handing him the extra blade that was left.

Uncommon Chipped Steel Kitchen Blade

Reach: 9 inches long

Slash: 2

Thrust:4

Steel Strength: 5

Durability: Good

Good for cutting lettuce, onions, Ghouls, and chickens.

Well at least someone has a sense of humor, Lucious smiled. This would make his life much easier. About 9 inches easier at least.

The Chef nodded again “Our blades are of the highest quality. We’ll get by if we can get all those idiots ones of these,” The Chief pointed his chin Lucious’s newly acquired blade. The plan was simple. Either the humans would rally, or they would all perish. “But first…” The Chief’s muscles bulged, the nerves on his giant forearms pulsing as he turned towards the noise “...Who in the nine fucking hells is playing the piano at a time like this!”

Luscious shivered. The piano was gradually seeping in through the sounds of violence, its soft keys increasing in weight, each human scream and monstrous screech increasing its tempo. Lucious doubted he would like this.

Seventh Sense ® leveled up!

Shit.