Chapter 151

151. Who Do You Think You’re Dealing With?

I was genuinely curious about OWL so I walked all around the camp the whole night. Results: nothing.
I’m really going at it blindly.
The only thing I know is that OWL is supposed to be somewhat strong.
I couldn’t check each and every person in the camp, but I was about to determine that there were around 10 people who might fit the bill.
I did this by looking at how they walk and how they handle themselves, but that didn’t mean much. Not really.
There are times when a weak looking guy is unexpectedly powerful, or when a musclehead might actually be a really weak.
So basically, I gave up. With so few clues, I couldn’t do it.
Maybe I should go out into town tonight and ask around?
I’ll think about it later.
Okay, that out of the way, I went ahead and had the breakfast that Mr. Zack so graciously prepared, and was currently out on a walk under the refreshing sunlight pouring down on the camp courtyard.
I very much liked the cool winter air coupled with a beautiful, sunny sky.
The sky was clear, and, I can’t explain this well, but it sort of felt like my soul was being reinvigorated.
“Mmm.”
Walking past the hobo-like prisoners having their bad soup and worse bread, I noticed that I didn’t look like a mob at all.
Don’t get me wrong. I can pull off the mob role no problem in a town.
But compared to these people, I wasn’t dirty and ragged enough. Well, I’m still new here, and blending in should come naturally with the time, so…
I noticed people shouting.
“How dare you accuse us!?”
A crowd had formed.
I squeezed my way through them. I felt like this was going to get fun and I wanted front row seats.
“Don’t you dare deny it.”
Said Clara Oriana facing a mobbish dude at the center of it all. The guy was some no-name from the meeting in the cellar last night.
Behind Clara stood people who were probably from the Royalists camp, and behind the no-name stood people from the Doem side. Among them, I could see Zack and also their boss.
“Royalists and Doem Camp are going at it…”
“Things might get bloody…”
The rabble chattered.
“One of ours was murdered last night. When we found him, there were signs of an assault and torture.”
Mother of crap. Since I was out looking for OWL, I missed a key event.
“We dindu nuffin!!”
“He was tortured! You’re about the only people who’d resort to that, confess at once!”
Clara cried furiously.
“Serves him right! I say good fuckin’ riddance!!”
“—Knave!!”
In her anger, Clara slapped the no-name.
Suddenly, everyone got quiet, as if time had stopped.
— Then.
“Done it now, bitch!”
The guy who got slapped grabbed and raised the club at his waist.
Yeah, this be no good.
Clara can’t handle that. Worst case, the club cracks her head open and she’s dead.
Yeah, sorry, but I don’t like it if some no-name mob suddenly kills a major character.
“—Huh?”
Muttered Clara, her eyes wide in shock.
Right before her eyes, the man who was about to swing down a weapon at her, had spontaneously collapsed. The club he was holding was flung high into the air.
“—HUH!? What just happened!?”
“How’d he just!?”
The rabble were scared and confused.
“It can’t be— OWL?”
“Find him!! He’s here somewhere!”
“…Owl?”
Both Royalists and Doem Camp went on guard.
I was the culprit though.
It was simple. I had a piece of slime detach from the bottom of my shoe and burrow underground. Then I had it shoot out from under the guy and hit him under the jaw.
No one noticed, but that’s fine. That right there was very much was a power from the shadows would do.
Or so I thought, by Mr. Zack was glancing at me with suspicion.
I made a cryptic smile, and purposefully looked away— Perfection.
Now that’s what I call a job well done.
Which was when I noticed it. The club that had been sent flying was coming down my way.
And suddenly, I had a eureka moment.
— Show ain’t over yet!
My role of that of a power in the shadows is done for now.
However, I have yet to fulfil my role as a mob!
I took only an instant to determine the club’s trajectory, and as it wouldn’t actually hit me in my current position, I swiftly moved to the spot where it would land.
Having expected I’d need it at some point, I placed a small blood back in my mouth and looked upwards.
And the club struck down right on my nose.
“Bhoorfff!?”
I blew the prepared blood in my mouth from out my nose and fell back.
The blood sprayed out like a fountain, glistening in the light of the sun. Quite artistic if I do say so myself.
Mob Arts: Nosebleed Splasher
This is a pretty high level technique.
“Ugh! I’m gonna puke!!”
“Eghh, it’s on my face!”
To you people of the camp who wished to see carnage, I present to you a fountain of nose blood.
— And there you have it.
While the power in the shadows aids the MC, some random mob gets the unfortunate role of being collateral!
“Wait, you’re hurt!?”
I was collapsed on my back, completely sated, but seeing as Clara was running over, I quickly pretended to be out cold.