The Virgin Waitress (5)
Rat leaped up from the sofa, bellowing, and the two thugs standing behind him grabbed my shoulders.
"If we're gonna throw down, send the girl out first."
Rat snickered and jerked his chin. One of his men opened the door, and Della shot me a terrified glance.
"Wait outside. I'll be right there."
Della nodded and slipped out of the room. The moment the door clicked shut behind her, I whipped my foot back without looking. There was a hideous crack as one thug's shin snapped clean in two.
"Gwaaaaaah!!!"
I spun around and smashed my fist into the other guy's face. Bones caved in on one side; I grabbed his collar and hurled him out the window. He sailed past Rat, shattering the frame to pieces as he plummeted outside.
The rest froze, stunned by how I'd dropped two men in seconds, eyeing each other warily without advancing.
"Draw your swords! Swords, now!" Rat shrieked hysterically.
His men gripped their sword hilts. But before they could pull them free, I lunged forward and yanked the blade from the nearest one's scabbard. In one fluid slash, I carved diagonally across his gut and chest—blood erupted like a geyser. As he crumpled backward, it splattered the walls and ceiling.
I sidestepped to avoid the spray.
"Argh! Fuck! Kill him!"
Rat panicked at the sight. Several blades thrust toward my stomach. I leaned back and swung wide—their swords shattered one by one with a symphony of metallic shrieks. One unlucky bastard lost his wrist entirely; his severed hand flew through the air, still clutching the hilt, before thumping to the floor. Blood gushed from the stump, and he collapsed in seconds.
Terror etched the faces of the remaining men.
"The ones without loyalty get to live."
Half bolted for the door without a second thought.
"The ones who stick it out to the end? They don't leave alive."
Another half ditched their weapons and fled. Now only two remained. One pissed himself and slumped to the floor; the other, drenched in blood, smeared it frantically over his clothes like a madman.
"Wh-what the hell are you...?"
Rat stammered from behind his desk, voice quivering.
"Which... which gang are you from? Who sent you?"
"Open the safe. Give me my money back."
"You're insane! It was a legit loan with collateral! What's wrong with collecting what's owed?"
"The money. Now."
Rat's eyes flicked to the window. He made a break for it—but I'd read his move. Before he hit the sill, I seized his nape.
"Open the safe."
"Fuck you, you bastard!"
A dagger sprang from his sleeve. Fine, no choice now. I grabbed his stabbing wrist, hoisted him into the air by collar and wrist, then slammed him headfirst into the floor like a nail. His skull burst open, eyes bulging out. He went limp instantly.
I'd planned to kill him anyway, but damn, what a messy end.
I approached the safe, gripped the handle, and wrenched it hard. Gears ground inside with a crunch, and the door swung open limply. It was stuffed with trinkets, jewelry, gems, and pouches brimming with gold coins. I pulled out the one with the fifty coins I'd given Della earlier, plus the thick loan ledger from the desk.
With the creditor dead and records gone, no more harassment. Sure, there'd been a ruckus, but gang scraps were commonplace here—guards wouldn't bat an eye. The fleeing remnants? Mercs for hire, loyal to coin, not grudges. No revenge coming.
I opened the door. Della waited outside, pale as a ghost, trembling against the wall.
"It's over."
"A-are... are you hurt...?"
Her eyes scanned my face shakily.
"I'm fine. Got the ledger too—no more debt troubles."
She stared at the book in my hand, speechless.
"Let's go, Della."
I took her hand and headed downstairs. The entrance goons had fled; the street was empty. We mounted up and escaped that dingy alley.
Della, riding in front, shook pitifully.
"You okay, Della?"
"J-just... a bit shocked."
I stopped at a street vendor brewing hot tea and bought her a herbal cup. Sipping it steadied her tremors.
"Thank you..."
"Della, before we leave town, mind swinging by the merchants' guild?"
"It's fine. Don't worry about me."
She forced a smile.
Asking passersby, we found the merchants' guild easily. Mollo was there, so I listed my purchases.
"Always a pleasure, Bertrand. Who's the lady?"
Mollo eyed Della.
"New waitress for the inn. Getting too big to handle alone."
"Makes sense. Place is booming. Here for hires?"
"Rosens is planting season—everyone's in the fields, no staff left."
"Fair enough. Delivered by tomorrow."
I paid upfront. Della stayed silent till we left Bue—still reeling from Rat's lair, or maybe realizing she was truly leaving.
We skirted Vurn Lake on our right along a dirt path for hours before she spoke.
"Thank you, sir. How can I repay this kindness...?"
"Work hard. That's enough."
She nodded.
"What about the inn's debt?"
"Creditor's gone, ledger's mine—no immediate crunch."
"So... you become the creditor?"
Uh, never thought of that. Rat dead, ledger has the IOU—effectively, I'd inherited the debt. In this underworld, possession was nine-tenths of the law.
But I wasn't into loan sharking.
"Could be... but do I need to?"
"I see..."
Della trailed off. With the inn—her mom and grandpa's legacy—debt-free, did she regret following? No more forced whoring, no dad's pressure.
But she wasn't regretting.
"If you did take it... I'd beg you to keep the inn as collateral."
"To stop your dad selling it."
"Yes. Can't retitle to me yet, and debt-free, he'll just rack up more. Better he struggles like now."
"Status quo, huh."
"Yeah. Someday... when he passes and I inherit..."
She fell silent. I knew the rest.
"I'll make sure he can't touch it. Work under me, learn. When the day comes, you get the inn—I burn the ledger."
"Thank you, sir...!"
Cold truth: even if I turned sour, she'd be powerless. But I wouldn't—I genuinely needed a waitress.
We reached Rosens by morning. No Kali at the inn.
"Kali!"
He barreled from the stable, flopping belly-up before me.
"Oh!"
Della gasped softly.
"Told you to guard the house—where've you been?"
"Woof!"
"Oh? You're back?"
Hildeva followed, sleeves rolled up.
"Administrator? What brings you here?"
"Milking the cow?"
"Yeah. Udder was bursting—let it fester?"
"And who...?"
Hildeva eyed Della.
"New hire. Della from Bue."
"Hello. City Administrator Hildeva."
They exchanged greetings. She'd milked the cow, gathered eggs, fed the livestock while I was gone.
"I'm the administrator—gotta step up. Everyone's busy in fields."
Personal livestock city business? Whatever—grateful.
"Any word from the capital?"
She counted on her fingers.
"Probably just arrived today. Few more days."
After she left, I showed Della around. In the hall, she gawked at the high ceiling.
"It's huge."
"Used to be a bustling hub."
I gave her the room next to mine—small, but bed and desk. She loved it.
"You traveled all night—sleep first, talk later."
"Sir...?"
She stopped me at my door.
"I'll call you Master from now on."
"Do that."
"And... thank you. For saving me."
She bowed deeply and darted inside. Alone in the hall, I mulled her words.
Saving... A phrase I'd heard endlessly as a hero—from villagers freed from witches' beasts, merchants spared monster feasts, sailors storm-rescued, countless others. Thought those days were done.
Feels... strange.
Late afternoon. Della inventoried pantry, basement, kitchen—learning her future workspace.
As she mopped the hall, I tallied books at the bar.
"Master...?"
She stared wide-eyed.
"What?"
"That sword... it's glowing...?"
I turned. The Holy Sword on the wall behind the bar blazed white.
What the—?! Monster?!
A knock echoed from outside.
"Hold on!"
Della propped the mop and headed over. I yelled,
"Wait! Della—no door!"
Halfway open, she turned.
"Back! Away from the door!"
I snatched the Holy Sword, vaulted the bar. Something flashed through the gap.
Too late to cross the hall...!
Gripping tight with both hands—blinding flash. I teleported right behind her, yanking her waist back as razor-sharp tentacles pierced through the door.