The Useless Prince Is A Gangster

"I give you guys three options. Pick wisely."

Leo held up one finger. "First: tell me who is the one who took the contract on the Royal Hunt stragglers. Step up, name that goldmaster, and walk away calmly. I won't chase you."

A second finger joined the first. "Second: Drop your weapon, swear to your gods, whatever scrap of honor you've got left—and run away. and live a normal life."

The third finger rose, and his lips curved into something that might have been a smile if it hadn't promised oblivion. "Or third... we skip the poetry. You swing. We dance. And sixty becomes zero."

Then the huge guy charged at Leo with a huge axe, like he had a chance to begin with.

Leo didn't move as he approached; he didn't even raise his sword. He just stood there unimpressed.

"FUCK YOUR OPTIONS! I'LL CARVE THE SMIRK OFF HIS FACE!" The guy roared. His huge axe came down in a blur, aimed to split Leo from top to bottom.

Leo just sidestepped gracefully in a blur; the guy who survived bullet rains can do anything. The axe tore past him, missing by a hair, and smashed a heavy wooden table into hundreds of pieces behind him.

The axeman stumbled, off-balance from the wild swing. For a second, he stood there, panting, thinking he'd at least made the pretty noble boy dodge.

Then a cold so deep it felt like death wrapped around the room. From the shadow of Leo's feet, a nightmare rose up.

It was tall and black. Its eyes were two burning with violet fire. Its sharp-clawed hands gently—almost politely—cradled the sides of the mercenary's head.

CRACK! Like a heavy tree branch snapping.

Shadow wraith just intended to snap his head, but its force accidentally ripped his head off.

The body crumpled to the floor. His head fell on the floor with a dull thump, thump, and came to rest upside-down by another man's boot. The dead face inside was frozen in a roar, the eyes wide with the shock of it all.

The whole hall flinched back. The scrape of sixty pairs of boots echoed. Weapons that had been held high now dipped, trembling. They'd all heard the stories, but seeing it… this was different.

Leo finally moved. He slid his katana back into its sheath with a soft click, like he was putting away a tool after a small, messy job.

"Third it is," he said, his voice a quiet murmur, yet somehow carried to every corner. "Pity. I was hoping for a confession."

The hall exploded into chaos. The men roared and charged, fear turning into a wild, desperate rage. It was better to die fighting, they thought.

But death was already here. It stood in the middle of the room with crimson eyes and a look of utter boredom.

From Leo's shadow, another wraith rose up and simply charged forward.

An archer was trying to fit an arrow to his bowstring when his throat opened up. He choked as the shadowy wraith pulled him back into the darkness.

"DEMONS!" screamed a scarred, thin guy with a spear. He aimed the point straight at Leo's heart. "Kill the witch and him!"

Leo didn't even look. He flicked his katana up, and the wooden shaft of the spear was cut clean in two. The spearhead flew away and stuck into a barrel across the room. The soldier's eyes went wide with shock a moment before Leo's blade sliced across his chest and he died.

Leo stepped right over his body without stopping.

Leo moved like a warlord without mercy: a low slash to cripple a swordsman's legs, a quick turn, and a high cut that opened another man's belly.

A third attacker swung a spiked flail. Leo caught the chain on his sword, pulled the man off balance, and drove his elbow straight into the man's face. He shoved the body at two guys charging.

"Keep coming," Leo muttered. "Makes the math easier."

On the other side of the room, the mercenaries who had targeted Erin learned a harder lesson.

Four of them circled her. "Grab the silver-haired bitch alive!" their leader yelled. "The boss will pay a fortune for her!"

Erin's giggle cut through his words. "Oh, honey. You couldn't afford the mess you'd make."

They rushed her all at once, the worst decision.

She waved her fingers, and a thin wire that was as thick as spider silk glimmered around her. It was almost invisible.

The threads sliced through the arm of the first guy, then wrapped around his throat. He dropped to the floor, blood leaking from dozens of cuts.

The other three died the same way—threads looped around their ankles and wrists, and they came apart in four directions at once.

Erin watched it all with a slight smile. "Such messy boys," she cooed, stepping lightly over the twitching bodies. "I love a good unraveling."

A crossbow was fired at Leo. He raised his katana and knocked the bolt out of the air without even looking.

He spun around and raised his other hand, his fingers shaped like a gun. Fire gathered at his fingertip. "Boring," he said, and fired.

The concentrated fire shot across the room and hit the mage with a BOOM.

The man didn't just die—he got vaporized. The explosion threw three other fighters into the walls.

A huge enforcer charged through the crowd. His metal gauntlets crackled with blue lightning. He drove a fist straight at Leo's stomach.

Leo moved to the side and countered instantly; his fist met the guy's fist.

A loud crackle and crunch rippled around the room. The big guy's wrist shattered, bones turning to pulp.

Leo's free hand clamped onto the man's shoulder, holding him in place, then punched with his own volstell glove.

The big guy's ribs stuck out like broken bars of a cage and fell backward, dead.

"Shocking," Leo said flatly, shaking bits of ash from his glove. Around him, his shadow-wraiths kept cutting down the remaining fighters. Bodies piled up.

As Erin was busy fighting, an assassin drove his poisoned blade deep into Erin's back, right between the ribs, aiming for her heart.

She stumbled, and a gasp escaped her lips. Her violet eyes went wide with surprise. The assassin twisted the blade, grinning at the sound.

"Got you, princess," he sneered. "Sweet dreams."

He yanked the dagger out and stepped back to watch her die—she fell.