Cleaver Of Sin

Chapter 120: Batman

Asher simply stood there for a few minutes, staring up at the statue. For commoners to admire a noble, the noble must have done numerous things to win them over. In most cases, commoners in a territory didn’t even like the nobles ruling over them... or so he had read.

’Well... if Father isn’t a cultist, I guess he’s just a good ruler,’ Asher thought with mild amusement.

He didn’t dwell much on the gold coins his father had distributed. The man was already absurdly rich. The only expenses within the Wargrave family were probably salaries paid to maids, workers, and the taxes owed to the Emperor, virtually nothing else.

After all, no one really lived permanently at the Wargrave estate, certainly not enough for them to splurge lavishly on meals or festivals.

Asher began to wonder how long a commoner would have to work just to earn fifty gold coins. Based on his estimation, it would likely take them several years, if not longer.

Shaking his head, he turned away from the statue and continued walking. Along the way, he noticed a few children bumping into him, seemingly by accident. But with his sharp perception, Asher could clearly see their small, nimble hands reaching deftly into his pockets.

Unfortunately for them, he hadn’t stored any coins in his pockets, so these little thieves left empty-handed.

Asher simply smiled and shook his head at the behavior. He didn’t speak a word. He had already anticipated something like this. Just because the commoners loved the Duke didn’t suddenly make them all saints.

With a thought, Asher brought out a few copper and silver coins from his inventory and quietly transferred them into his pockets.

He knew full well that even if he stopped these children and scolded them, they would still go on stealing. Words of encouragement didn’t feed empty stomachs or keep roofs over heads.

Besides, his Absolute Physique didn’t come with some kind of Talk-no-Jutsu ability. Asher didn’t bother lecturing any of them.

Instead, he simply kept refilling his pockets with small amounts of coin. Every time a child bumped into him and stole the money, he would replace it again, letting the cycle continue.

Asher wandered into several alleyways, trying to find children who might be orphaned or without guardians, those truly lost and alone. But after walking for quite a while, he found none.

Eventually, he discovered that the territory had two orphanages operating under the Wargrave estate. These institutions took in homeless children and housed them until they turned seventeen. At that point, they were sent back into the world. This explained why the alleys were free of strays, no children were sleeping in trash cans or filthy corners.

Just then, Asher’s steps came to a sudden halt.

He spotted an injured child, no older than seven, walking with trembling legs toward an unfamiliar building. Blood stained the child’s knee, and his clothes were slightly torn.

Asher watched quietly as the door closed behind the child.

He didn’t move at first. But something about the situation felt... off. His instincts whispered that something wasn’t right.

Curiosity piqued, Asher walked to the building.

With a light push of his feet, he propelled himself upward into the air, landing gracefully on the roof. From there, he spotted an open space in the roof tiles and slipped in quietly.

He stopped suppressing his Omni Perception and let it expand, encompassing the entire building in a heartbeat.

Silently, he moved across the wooden beams supporting the roof, like a shadow gliding from one to the other. Within two seconds, he came to a stop above five men, tattoos sprawled across their bodies, marking them as thugs or gangsters.

Below, the same child stood before them, trembling. He brought out a few copper coins and offered them to one of the men with shaky hands and a quivering voice.

”C...ca...can I have the herb...? My... mot...mother is really... si...sick,” the boy stammered, tears already glistening in his eyes.

Suddenly, a loud smack echoed through the room as a vicious slap hurled the child sideways.

The boy slammed into a table with a crash, his body rolling off as he whimpered and began to sob uncontrollably.

”Traders sell that herb for a gold coin! I told you I’d give it to you for eighty silver, and yet you bring these meager copper coins every day,” one of the men snarled after striking the child.

But the boy said nothing. He just sat on the floor, crying.

”For breaking the table, it’s now ninety silver coins. Get out of here and don’t come back until you have the money,” the man growled, spitting on the ground beside him.

The child got up slowly, tears and snot covering his face like paint on a canvas. Silently, he turned and left, his sobs barely audible.

From above, Asher observed everything with icy clarity. He understood exactly what these men were doing. They were scamming the boy. That herb did cost a gold coin, but they were simply using the child to funnel money into their pockets. By demanding eighty silver, a sum just short of a full gold coin, they lured him into an endless quest for money he couldn’t possibly acquire.

Asher dropped from the beam he’d been perched on, landing hard on the wooden floor with a resounding crash. He no longer bothered to hide his presence.

By now, his cap had vanished, revealing his full face to the room.

The men spun to face him, frowns etched across their rough features.

”And who the hell might this stupid kid be?” one of them barked.

”You can call me... Batman,” Asher said casually.

Before anyone could react, he was already standing before the man who had slapped the child. Astra energy surged into his right index finger, and with a sharp motion, he swiped it across the man’s throat.

A sickening sound followed, flesh tearing, blood spurting. The man’s eyes were wide with shock as he dropped heavily to the floor, lifeless.

Without giving the others time to process what had just happened, Asher moved again.

With that same finger, he repeated the maneuver, swift, lethal, and efficient.

Blood splattered across the floor and wooden tables as the remaining men collapsed in pools of crimson. Some died instantly; others twitched for a moment before going still.

Asher didn’t bother with any saint-like monologue. He hadn’t come here to debate morals or offer second chances. He didn’t hope for change by believing in humanity.

He simply ended them.

The stench of blood now lingered in the air.

Without turning, Asher spoke calmly, ”One of the Knights should handle the cleanup. Lyra, ensure that child and his mother receive adequate care. I’ll be heading back to the estate. Return once you’re done.”

With that, he activated Virelass’ position marker ability. In the next instant, Asher vanished in a streak of silver light.