King of Clubs is Coming

Ambush at Slaver's Manor

---

"Where the hell are these morons?" Hulgar fumed, drumming his fingers on the table. Hulgar was a fifty-year-old man of average height with pale red hair slicked to the left, a stubble-covered triangular chin, narrow gray eyes, a hooked nose, and a slightly protruding abdomen. He was wearing a sea-green shirt, orange trousers with white stripes from the knees, and black boots. A dark red coat was thrown over his shoulders, "I gave them a simple task: to find two runaway slaves. Why the hell are they looking for them for so long?"

Suddenly, the door to his quarters flew open, and one of his subordinates burst in with a shocked expression, "Boss, we have a problem!" he shouted.

"What happened?" Hulgar asked displeasedly.

"All our slaves are gone!" These words plunged the gray-eyed into shock.

"WHAT!?"

"Not only that, but inside we found the bodies of Mike and Devin!"

Before the slave trader could formulate his answer, another subordinate rushed into the room, looking rather shabby, "Boss, we're under attack!" he yelled hysterically, clutching his bloodied left forearm with his right hand.

"Who?" the fat man asked, subconsciously feeling fear.

"Monster!" the subordinate shouted before hearing some strange click and turning pale, "Run! He's already h-" He was prevented from finishing the sentence by a shot to the head that blew it to hell. The headless corpse stood still for a couple of seconds before falling to the floor, blood flowing from its neck. Trembling with terror, the remaining duo turned their gazes from the corpse to the monster standing behind it, who looked at them with a look that promised a painful death.

***

The first thing Tarantula did when approaching the estate was to check the amount of energy to know how many people were there. Having calculated the location of the slaves, he crept up to a separate room intended for the storage of slaves and, assuming his combat form, gutted one of the two guards with his claws as he turned a corner during his round. Y/N then climbed onto the roof, crept up to the one at the door and jumped down, landing right on top of him. Before the representative of the cannon fodder could do anything, the King of Clubs rolled him onto his back and grabbed his throat, the soul of the scoundrel. Quite quickly, the faint wheezing and futile attempts to push the attacker stopped. After making sure that the enemy was dead, Undead hid his body in the bushes, after which he opened the door and began to free the girls who were there. After reading their memories and finding out where they came from, Tarantula teleported them to their native villages, just in case, sending a pair of Darkroaches from each. He then teleported to the forest, returned from there with the corpses of his victims and left them inside. Sensing the approach of one of the guards, L/N quietly left the room and began to observe. The assistant who went inside jumped out after about a minute and ran to the estate. After confirming that there were no more innocents in the area, Y/N assumed the form of a monster and took out the Nyan Gun. The people who began to run to the sound of the music drew their weapons and tried to attack, but were shot before they could even take a step.

"Hey, what's going on here?" a shout was heard and another guard came out of the door, rather overweight, dressed in a dark gray shirt torn and stained with greasy stains and crimson pants, apparently taken from someone else. Seeing the intruder, he tried to draw his sword, but Undead was faster. A shot, and the fat man loses his right arm to the elbow. The cry of pain that began was almost instantly interrupted by a shot to the head. Tarantula kicked open the door and began to methodically shoot cannon fodder, trying to crush him with a crowd. Reloading the magazine with a habitual movement, he unpleasantly surprised a group of guards who tried to take advantage of his small hitch with a Nyan Grenade, blowing them to pieces.