The Useless Prince Is A Gangster

Erin's 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 died.

For a second, he thought he did what's impossible.

Then a sweet voice spoke from right behind the assassin.

"Ohh, congratulations."

The assassin spun around and saw Erin, completely unharmed.

The Erin on the floor dissolved into purple smoke—a magical illusion.

Before the assassin could make another attack, her blade gently slashed his throat cleanly. Blood poured out, choking and dying on the floor like a rat.

Erin leaned close to whisper as he died. "You really thought it would be that easy? " she whispered. "How adorably fatal."

"Having fun yet?" Erin called out lightly, stepping over a body without even glancing down. "Or should I start charging them by the slice?"

Leo didn't answer right away. He looked around the room; the surviving fighters were hesitating, their charges weak.

He let out a sigh and unsheathed his katana.

"Enough," he said, his voice flat. "Let's finish this quickly; I want to sleep."

Erin's eyebrows went up. Pure delight sparkled in her eyes as she walked closer. "Oh? Using that? You've been playing nice all night."

Leo glanced at his katana, a smile formed on his lips. "It's been months since I used it. I have to try once in a while."

Suddenly, blue fire burst to life along the edges of his coat. It didn't burn the fabric. The flames wrapped around him like a second skin.

"Mana domain," he whispered.

And the world around them turned pitch black.

It was a void. The mercenaries screamed in nothingness, swinging their weapons blindly. All they could hear was the frantic pounding of hearts.

And the world appeared again.

But not the warm planet they live on.

This was different; they stood on a vast, cracked earth, glowing purple from deep cracks. Purple sky overhead with constant blue lightning.

The pillars at the edge were broken. Pieces of them floated in the air. Ghostly blue flames burning around the ruins.

Air filled with a heavy pressure that pushed down on their shoulders, making their legs shake.

About forty men—all that was left—stood huddled together in the center of this nightmare. They had forgotten how to fight.

"What... what the actual fuck is this place?" gasped a tattooed archer. "We're not in the guild hall anymore!"

"It's a domain," another man rasped. "He's a domain lord. We're not fighters anymore."

Then Leo's voice boomed.

"Welcome to my special little arena."

They turned around.

In front of them was a huge, stepped pyramid.

At the very top, Erin sat on a broken stone throne, looking like a queen. One leg crossed over the other, her chin resting in her hand. Her violet eyes shone with wicked amusement as she looked down at them all.

Leo was sitting on the very bottom step with one leg drawn up. The blue flames completely covered him, his red eyes burning with coldness.

He looked like a predator watching the herd.

The mercenaries stepped back in panic. One of them turned and sprinted desperately to escape.

But a shadow wraith formed from the ground in his path.

It just stood there, and the guy skidded and fell to the ground.

More wraiths began to appear.

"Battle royale," Leo announced. His voice boomed, but he kept that same casual tone. "Rules are simple and will be fun."

"My wraiths around you will start attacking you guys, and don't think to fight with them; they'll regenerate endlessly as long as I'm breathing. The last man standing walks out of here."

A big man spat, though his voice trembled. "Y-You're insane! We'll kill you first—"

Leo laughed, more like a growl. "Give it a shot or don't. Doesn't matter to me." He swung his sword in a lazy arc, the blue fire blazing brighter. "One survivor. That's the deal. Be the last one or die."

A mercenary scrambled to his feet, his hands raised in pleading. "Wait—please, we surrender! We'll swear off life! No more contracts, no more—"

A wraith's claw flicked out, and his arm was sliced off at the shoulder. He screamed, clutching the stump, as the shadow dragged him into the darkness.

The rest of the men gulped, their legs buckling in fear.

They raised their weapons again but pointed them shakily at each other. Friends became enemies in a second, hissed whispers:

"You and me, we take the big one—"

"Screw you, I'm on my own—"

Leo sat back down on the step and crossed his arms.

With a thought, Erin made a small, glowing violet crown above her head out of thin air.

"You only have five minutes, boys," she purred down at them. "Play nice. The view is fantastic from up here either way."

Leo's grin widened, and he leaned forward, the flames around him roaring higher.

"Begin."

The mercenaries didn't charge the throne. They turned and attacked each other.

The wraiths around the edges are looking at people killing each other like a referee. This was a desperate battle; every friendship broke off, with friends killing each other in desperate need of survival.

From her throne, Erin sipped from a cup of tea that appeared in her hand. Her eyes were bright with fascination. "My favorite part," she murmured to Leo. "The exact second they understand that they are the game."

Leo gave a single nod.

"Almost," he said quietly. "But the ending is still the best."

Maybe three minutes passed, maybe four. The bodies piled up in messy heaps.

Now, only one was left alive. He knelt in the very center, his chest heaving, his hands shaking as they gripped a bloody short sword.

He wasn't the toughest or the one with the most kills. He was small and thin.

His only weapon was pure desperation, waiting for the strong to kill each other off. He only attacked when his last one was killing the other one.

"I'm sorry," he gasped to the dead men around him. "Gods, I'm sorry… I didn't want to… I had to…"

He kept apologizing—to the young kid he'd kidnapped, to the woman he'd killed on a job years ago, to all the sins he did.

He rocked back and forth, pounding his bloody fists on the ground. This wasn't joy. It was the hollow, empty feeling of having survived.

The domain faded into the familiar guild again. The bodies of the sixty men were spread across him on the floor.

The survivor just stared at his own bloodied hands, like they belonged to someone else.

Then he heard footsteps.

He looked up and flinched to see Erin and Leo standing in front of him.

"P-please," the man whimpered, his voice thin and torn. "I… I won. You said…"