Madara's grip, through the giant blue hand, tightened. The salesman choked, blood spitting from his lips as the immense pressure crushed him.
A few seconds later, his struggles stopped. He wasn't breathing anymore. Madara looked down at the lifeless form held in the Susanoo's grasp.
"Are you still representing your owner, huh?" he asked, his voice calm.
He paused for a moment, then said, "It seems you are... Don't worry. Your owner will follow you soon." With that, Madara casually flung the salesman's body.
It arced through the air and slammed hard against one of the cages, then slumped to the ground in a heap.
Madara stepped forward, not bothering to avoid the fresh puddle of blood that was spreading across the floor. He did, however, turn slightly to the children behind him. "Don't step on the blood," he told them, his voice even.
The sudden violence, the loud thud of the body, and the sight of the glowing blue hand had caused an uproar.
Slaves in nearby cages started screaming, some crying out for help. It was much like when the first man had been killed in the inn, a wave of panic and noise.
Soon, more men came running, drawn by the commotion. These men looked stronger, tougher than the salesman.
They were clearly the security guards for this building, their faces hard and their hands reaching for weapons.
But to Madara, they still just looked like slightly bigger insects.
Without any real effort, Madara moved. He was a blur, too fast for any of them to follow. He swatted them aside like annoying flies.
Their bodies flew through the air, crashing into the side walls with sickening thuds, or hitting the floor hard.
Some even smashed into the ceiling or were thrown against the very cages they were meant to guard. It was over in moments.
Madara continued his advance. More people, a mix of salesmen trying to look tough and actual security guards, rushed towards him.
But they all met the same quick, brutal end at Madara's hands. Amidst the chaos, however, one salesman, perhaps not overly brave but certainly quick-thinking, managed to slip away.
He didn't try to fight; instead, he ran, planning to alert the town guards and maybe even the Adventurer's Guild about the slaughter happening at the slave market.
With most of its defenders now dead or dying, the building was practically defenseless before Madara.
He made his way to the second floor, his eyes scanning the doors.
One door looked a little fancier, a bit more important than the others. Hoping the owner would be inside, Madara didn't bother with the handle.
He simply kicked it.
The force of the kick was immense; the door splintered and broke, clinging precariously to the frame by a single hinge, tilted at a crazy angle.
Inside, a scene of quiet cruelty was taking place. A demi-human slave, a woman, was huddled in a corner, her body covered in fresh bruises and older, faded marks of beatings.
Sitting behind a large, ornate desk was a portly man, the owner Madara had been looking for.
He was just standing up from his comfortable chair, his face contorted in anger at the sight of a mere kid barging into his private office.
"Who are you?!" the owner shouted, his voice booming. "Who sent you here? How dare you enter my room without my permission? Do you have any idea who I am?" He continued to bluster and shout, clearly unaware of the carnage that had just unfolded on the floor below, or perhaps no one had managed to inform him yet.
Madara looked at the fat man, who was dressed in expensive-looking clothes and had several flashy rings on his pudgy fingers.
To Madara, the man's angry shouts sounded like the squealing of a frightened pig.
Without a word, Madara reached out with one hand, grabbed the broken door that was still dangling by its hinge, and with a grunt, ripped it free.
He then swung the heavy wooden door like a club, slamming it hard into the side of the fat owner.
The man yelped as he was sent flying, crashing into the side wall with a sickening crunch.
The fat owner lay on the floor, squealing and groaning in pain. The impact had clearly broken several of his bones.
"Wh-who are you?" he wheezed, terror now replacing his earlier arrogance. "Who sent you? Wait! Don't kill me… I'll give you double whatever they're paying you! Please, just don't kill me!"
It was clear that the owner, despite his bluster, was a coward at heart, only good at barking orders at those weaker than himself.
Madara looked down at the pathetic figure. "Were you the one," he asked, his voice dangerously calm, "who sent those maggots to the inn? To take the children who are under my protection?" The owner's eyes flicked towards the five children now standing in the doorway, and a flicker of understanding, then dawning horror, crossed his face. He realized this must be the new kid his lackey had told him about.
"W-where are they?" the fat man stammered, his voice a mix of pain and growing dread, referring to the men he had sent.
"Some are dead," Madara replied, his tone indifferent. "Their leader is... somewhat dead. It really doesn't matter. What matters is that someone like you, with your filthy desires, dared to try and take something that is under my protection. Whether you knew they were with me or not, it makes no difference to me now."
As he spoke, Madara's eyes scanned the room, and he noticed a sharp, broken piece of wood, perhaps from the shattered desk. He picked it up.
The fat man's eyes widened in horror. He saw the cold madness in front of him, a young man showing no feeling at all as he prepared to do something terrible.
Those red eyes seemed to look right through him, gazing into his very soul. All his anger vanished, replaced by pure fear.
"Please!" he pleaded, his voice a desperate squeak. "I'll give you anything you want! Just spare my life! I have money, I have slaves... just tell me what you want, and it's yours!"
But Madara didn't listen. He walked closer, his steps slow and steady, while the fat man continued to babble, offering more and more in a frantic bid to save himself.
When Madara reached him, he squatted down, looking the man directly in the eye.
For a brief, foolish moment, a small smile touched the fat man's lips; he thought maybe, just maybe, he would be spared.
Madara's next action proved how wrong he was. He pushed the sharp log forward, drilling it deep into the man's crotch.
The fat man screamed. It was a high, shrill sound, a shriek more like a terrified animal than a person, a sound of pure agony that filled the room.
Madara stood up slowly.
"You won't be spared, no matter how much you plead," he said, his voice cold and flat. "Making a living by selling children into slavery... that is disgusting. You will live... but soon, you will beg me, or anyone, to take your life. In the end, you will try to take your own life, but you won't be able to."
Fueled by pain and rage, the fat man's fear turned into a final, angry outburst. "You fool!" he shrieked, tears and snot running down his face.
"Do you have any idea who you've just attacked?! The noble I work for will hunt you to the ends of the earth! He has connections to the empire, to the church! They'll send heroes after you! You're dead! You're already dead and you don't even know it!"
Madara didn't even seem to hear the threats; he didn't care at all. He simply continued as if the man hadn't spoken.
"You can scream all you want," he said, his voice cutting through the man's pathetic rage. "No one will save you. Not your men... not your wealth... not your background... not even the powerful people who help you." Madara looked down at the writhing, screaming man one last time.
"So... scream all you want. Because that is the only thing you will do from now on."
….
A/N: So, How was it? Next would be those 2 mc's and adventurers come in running with guards to the slave house to deal with madara.
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