A Dark Night settles over a land in the world of mundanity,

Creaking wood to the noises of crickets can be heard.

The moon hangs low in the sky as a sorrowful predator is on the hunt.~

~   ~   ~

"What a hot mess." Strength murmured as she then sighed, upset at what she managed to figure out during her stakeout.

Putting down her Binoculars, a set she had personally gotten enchanted with mana sight.

She spent a few moments digesting the information she had gotten, having spotted her targets within and where they were in the building.

A total of fifteen in all, all armed with a variety of knives to firearms like pistols.

 

This would usually have necessitated backup, perhaps more than one additional ally.

But Strength wasn't a normal hunter, in matters of potency, and more so,

She didn't like dragging other hunters into her work unless it was required.

 

As it is, this was a job that she didn't like on many levels and it was just a disgusting affair all around for anyone involved.

Though it wasn't because she despised killing, she long lost felt disgust at the act.

No, she hated this, for this set of bonafide criminals were lounging in their base, drinking the night away, after a day of terrorizing a local village.

 

They kidnapped villagers for human trafficking in the dead of night and once they got their quarry, they ran with haste.

Careful to hide their trail from authorities above and below.

She hated that people like this got to live such carefree lives, and seeing it only made her blood boil, knowing they stripped it from their victims.

 

Strength stands, weighing her options, glancing back at the large box behind herself, filled with her weapon of choice.

She walks towards the box and begins opening it, as her bloodline ability begins to work overtime, with the content of the box slowly spilling out.

It was time to clean up a mess of lambs and put them into a nice stew.

 

~   ~   ~

A while later...

 

In the basement of the building Strength was looking at, the Raiders were relaxing, having a variety of discussions at the time.

With one of the conversations that is soon to come to an end, the man took a swig of beer before speaking his piece as he had done before.

"Hehe, poker is the superior game to uno, suck it, bro." One of the raiders drunkenly spat out, in banter to one of his allies.

 

"Oh shut it, Dave, We get it, you think poker is cooler, can you help me clean up the table?" Said his ally, irritated at another of Dave's rants about poker. 

Could he just shut up about it at least for one day? He'd rather hear the screams of their quarry than another hour of his stupid rants.

Oh well, they're gonna have another operation in a few days, he can just use their new targets to-huh? What's that noise?

He clutched his sidearm at his hip, as he began to silently stalk away, trying to pinpoint the noise that was slowly rising in intensity.

 

"Hey Johnny, what's the sudden silent treat-" Another raider pipes up before Johnny shushes him.

The raider is miffed but soon catches why Johnny went silent, as he can soon hear the sound as well.

As the raider motions the rest of the crew starts getting into ambush positioning, facing the doorway to the upstairs.

 

"Get ready everyone, we got to make sure this new visitor gets a warm welcome," Johnny whispers, as the raiders finish getting into combat positions.

They take out machetes, knives, pistols, and the occasional shotgun, as they start getting into an ambush position.

This wasn't the first time some bounty hunter or gods forbid a team of them tried to take the group down, so they were already used to getting ready and quick to deal with some nosy do-gooders.

 

They waited, ready in their new positions to light up the intruder as soon as the doors swung open.

Against their expectations though, the noise got steadily louder instead of quieter as it approached, without any sign of stopping.

However, they soon got their answer as the noise got closer, for Dave got a confused expression on his face as he asked, "We sure that's an intruder? that just sounds like a stream of water?"

 

"Of course, it's an intruder!" Argued Johnny, though even he felt unsure as to how else would a stream of water be able to come all the way down into the basement.

He grumbled to himself as he stepped leerily towards the door...

A moment before he gets to look through the peephole, the doors slam open, and a tide of smoking stew flows into the base unhindered.

The raiders shout in shock at seeing such an absurd quantity of stew enter the base.

 

However as it begins to fill the room from bottom to top, those shouts of confusion quickly transform into screams.

With raiders beginning to be boiled alive, those drowning became the lucky ones.

They attempted to escape but the stew, as if possessing its own will, formed a whirlpool, dragging all raiders to the center.

It was as if it was an eternity, for the screams of the raiders were unending, until eventually, it went silent.

 

The soup boiled for minutes longer, until like it was placed into a freezer, it rapidly cooled as fast as it had boiled.

It continued to flow into the low-lying area, giving the impression that it was just cooling off, and seeped into the soil of the basement.

Strength walks in a few minutes later, after having looked through the other floor for anyone else she missed.

She seemed to have not missed anyone, though she was still wary of any potential traps of an invisible avenger of the raiders.

 

It doesn't take long for her suspicions about a survivor to be true, as she spins on her heel behind a box, once she hears a footstep behind a box beside her.

A shot rings out, missing by a mile as the scorched raider steps forward, removing the helmet he kept on his head, and tossing it to the floor.

 

"Y-You sick bitch. I-I don't know why you used boiling soup of all things, b-but I am going to f-fill you with holes for what you did.

But if, If you want me to show mercy - put your hands up, and I might give you mercy once I'm done with you." said a man I couldn't help but pity as his soggy, and burned appearance did not inspire fear.

However, the threat only incensed me further after a flash of pity, as the soup that was seemingly inert puddles around the room began to gather silently behind the man, outside of his sight.

"G-get your hands up in the air, if you know w-Gurgle."The burned Raider attempts to shout as a pool of soup flows onto him before it begins boiling.

 

I watch as the man continues trying to scream, seeking any help from the heavens from the agony he is enduring now.

He tried to aim his gun at me, but the soup would forcibly push it sideways, causing every single shot to miss.

I watched, as his garbled screams and thrashing got quieter and weaker, until he eventually slumped over, off to the afterlife.

 

The soup, as an extension of my will, dragged along his body to rest it beside his dead allies.

By the end, all that remained was a pile of cadavers, strewn about their former residence, now dead from a variety of causes.

And a single sad, pitiful cadaver that cannot tell you its life story any longer, no longer screams about the injustice done to their gang.

After the untold numbers of people's lives, that their group, had ruined.

 

Looking over the remains of thugs who had robbed dozens of lives, and died without being able to swing a single blade or fire a single shot.

How did it feel to die helplessly? To be unable to do anything before you choked? Thought Strength, with a veneer of vindictiveness at the remains.

I stared a moment longer before stepping out of the room and dialing a friend to come help pick up the bodies to turn in.

Once the call ended, I returned to my original stakeout spot.

 

I examined my emotions, looking for that fabled spark of joy that a colleague told me about,

That would appear for serving justice to this group of scum for what they had done to the people here,

...I still don't feel fulfilled, in any notable manner.

 

Guess I will just tell her that I just am not getting the sensation.

Heck, maybe if the raiders had any sort of prisoners at the current moment, I would have felt differently?...

I certainly would have had to adjust my control of the soup if there were any innocents.

They deserve no further harm, from anyone, let alone from the rampaging stew I made just for scum.

 

She had described the sensation to me as like it was some boiling feeling of pride, of retribution.

But that is not what I am feeling right now, at all. . .I guess I can't be too hard on her, it was a long shot I would feel the same sensation anyway.

I stand back up, and organize my gear, to my remaining soup, for I will soon depart from this impromptu graveyard.

 

Experienced by 'Refuge of Strength'