I was prepared to act when I noticed the change in Zolast.

He had been already holding his knife when the overenthusiastic thugs approached his cart, but it had been a harmless gesture, a cook holding onto his tools of trade. Yet, the moment the threat was uttered, his grip shifted.

It was not a big move. His thumb shifted to the other side, his index finger shifted a bit, his hold loosened a touch.

Enough to add just a bit of whipping effect as he delivered an unexpected slash.

It was a fascinating little shift, turning his attitude from a cook to a dangerous fighter, with an intensity that he hadn't possessed while he was fighting against the beasts.

A man who had killed before, and not just in battle. His eyes told that more than his grip. He turned to me, and gestured for me to walk away.

I chuckled as I took a step, but not behind. Instead, I walked toward the group. "Tell me, boys, why are you interrupting the lunch of an old man?" I said cheerfully as I closed in toward them, my plate still in hand as I stepped forward.

Just like a retiree who didn't understand the danger he was in. Or would have been, if it wasn't for the gasp of fear my unlucky acquaintance let out as he took note of my appearance.

"I would be careful if I were you—" their leader started before being interrupted by his friend. "What's going on, you moron?" he started as he turned his back, leaving his neck wide open.

An idiotic move, leaving himself completely vulnerable to the armed cook he had just threatened with indentured servitude. Health allowed people to recover from wounds, but it wasn't capable of curing decapitation — or at least, that was the impression I received until now.

For all my apparent weakness, I was tense, to block Zolast if he took the opportunity to attack. Attacking was the smart move, but only tactically. Strategically, it would have been a disaster.

Instead, Zolast caught my gaze, hiding his surprise behind a question, asking permission to act. A man that was used to following orders. I shook my head and took another careless step forward, bringing me into their midst.

A dubious strategic position, a double-edged sword.

"He — he is…" the one that stumbled back gasped as he pointed at me. "He's the one that took us down alone," he managed to complete.

It was fascinating just how much he was startled by my presence. Not that I hadn't seen that level of response before, and not just as the Godfather. Many civilians reacted to gang members in a similar manner, panic, fear, and total submission.

It was interesting because it was coming from an armed man, one that was familiar with fighting. So, I paid attention when every single one of them looked at me, surprised at first, especially since I didn't react at all, just took another bite of my food.

My relaxed state was an illusion. At the first sign of hostility, I was ready to smash the plate to the face of the nearest one, before starting to break arms and legs. The earlier experience showed that broken bones were harder to cure than cuts. Coupled with their clear lack of ability when it came to unarmed combat, it was an obvious choice.

They surprised me by retreating. I would have attacked them if it was just a strategic move, carefully pulling back to create some space, but it was something different. A fearful, panicked retreat.

"You," the leader gasped.

I just smirked and took another bite from my food, but I wanted to frown in frustration. As much as it was fun to see them react — I wasn't above admitting I had a bit of an ego, hard not to develop in my line of business — it was the sign that I had miscalculated, and established myself as a bigger threat than I expected.

And along with that, attention.

Luckily, it wasn't the worst case considering it was gang members that were afraid of me rather than armored knights rushing forward — or worse, flying castles coming down to visit. It caused a bigger splash than I expected. Not entirely negative, as well, considering the fearful gazes that turned to me prevented a fight from breaking.

"Me," I said after a long break, realizing that they didn't intend to speak. "How can I help you, young man?" I spoke softly, like a kind old man chatting on the street. It was one of my favorite intimidation tricks, showing just how little I regarded their threat, which in turn made them even tenser.

Though that only worked when they were already afraid of me, it had some significant advantages, the biggest being not triggering the reflexive defense a more aggressive might bring.

"What …" he started as he looked at me. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" I said, chuckling. "I'm just eating from my favorite food cart when you barged, ruining my pleasure. The question is, what do you want?"

He bit his lips as he looked back, looking to his friends, seeking courage, but finding nothing. "We're not afraid of you, you know!" he said, loudly, his voice cracking to the end.

I could have said a lot of things, including just how useless that was as a statement. I chose something simpler. "Good for you, young man," I said with a chuckle as I took another bite, wondering whether it would be enough to break their already wavering determination.

"Do Reds trying to renege their claims," he said after a while. "He was supposed to be one of ours."

Zolast tensed at the mention, though I wasn't sure whether the declaration that he was treated as some kind of property, or a declaration about my alliance. I ignored that momentarily. "Oh, I didn't realize we have already become nobles and splitting our fiefdoms, my mistake," I said, not bothering to hide my sarcasm. I wasn't surprised at their overreach of power except for the speed. The circumstances and instability were perfect for a gang to grow to be something more — and it seemed the constant monster attacks only made things move quicker.

Jertann didn't mention anything about expanding forcefully, but considering his attitude, I didn't doubt that he wasn't informed of that detail as well.

He looked unsure of what he would do, while I enjoyed my food, the situation was in stalemate, and I was the only one without a weapon. I extended my perception to the limit, waiting for an opportunity.

Which came in the form of a diving bird, attacking me. With everyone else locked to the stalemate, I was the only one that noticed its approach. A good way to flex. Perception helped me to time my attack, and with my off-hand, I grabbed my dagger and slashed upward and back, not even looking in its direction.

Not the fastest or strongest hit I could deliver, but more than enough to make a point. Everyone staggered back. Still, I made sure to complete the motion like it was a Skill.

"I see," the leader murmured, the resignation in his tone showing my display. "We're going to talk this about, leadership to leadership," he declared, his tone stiff and confident, almost threatening.

It would have been more effective if he hadn't waited until he was safely behind the others.

I just shrugged as they walked away, going as fast as they could without running.

"That was something," Zolast said, and I turned to him. He was tense, which was understandable.

"Sorry about that. Children are always … unruly," I said with a shrug.

"So, reds. I seem to remember you didn't belong to any one of them yesterday."

I shrugged. "Yesterday, I didn't, but they seemed to be determined to be annoying and force everyone in, so I joined one, hoping that joining earlier would keep me away from the hassle of being accosted. I miscalculated."

"How?" he asked.

"A bit of misfortune. The others decided to target the group I decided to join, and I revealed a bit more than I had been initially planning."

"Weren't you trying to avoid the hassle?"

"Yes," I said with a shrug. "Avoiding the hassle, but that hardly means I want to be a doormat for every little idiot that wants to make a name in their new gangs. Including your guards, it seemed."

"Young idiots," he said with a shrug. "Dangle a few shiny promises, and they throw himself away." His tone was calmer, but that didn't mean his gaze was any more trusting. "I'm hoping that you're not going to use the same to me."

"Of course not," I said with a shrug. "The plan was to leave once my lunch is finished, but…" I said, though paused before finishing that sentence. Having access to a competent cook might not be a bad idea considering the strategic significance of Health.

Not to mention the temptation how having access to food that didn't taste like garbage.

"But," he followed up.

"Well, I wouldn't say no to having a private chef," I said.

"Let me guess, do I work for free, or only pay half of what I earn," he said.

"Nonsense," I said with a shrug. "Only a moron would fleece his cook. I have a better idea in mind. Protection, in return you cook for a small group of five for free," I offered. "What you sell will belong to you, no cuts," I offered. "However, anything you don't kill yourself, you have to pay for supplies."

"Fair," he said. "Too fair, even. That doesn't seem like a good deal for your group."

"So what," I said with a shrug. "I much prefer to have a decent cook. I'm not a man contend to eat garbage every day, especially since it seems I can't stay avoid attention anymore. Deal?"

He thought for a moment, then turned his gaze toward the moving carts, his gaze resting on the several groups with bands, talking with people, no doubt talking note that it would be hard to avoid the inevitable choice, and that was by far the best offer he would receive.

He turned toward me, resigned. "Deal."