Cleaver's Edge: A LitRPG Fantasy Cooking Adventure (Morcster Chef Book 1) by Actus

Author:Actus [Actus]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2021-12-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

The bald man turned, raising an eyebrow and giving Arek a once-over. He clearly wasn’t particularly impressed by the angry man standing before him.

“You weren’t talking to me, were you?” he asked, his mouth full.

“You know damn well I was,” Arek growled, ignoring the horrified expressions of the shopkeeper and Uri.

The man spat the orange onto Arek’s face. It hit his cheek, sliding down and falling to the ground. The orc didn’t flinch. He didn’t even wipe the trail of juice and spit off his face. Despite the calm demeanor, red had nearly completely enveloped his vision.

“Does that count as an attack?” Arek wondered aloud.

“Show this fool some respect,” the bald man ordered his subordinates.

They nodded, stepping forward. The man on the left had a thin scar going over one eye, while the one on the right sported the ugliest grin that Arek had ever seen. The first one stepped behind him and grabbed his arms, forcing them back. Still, the orc didn’t resist. Scar reared back and kneed Arek in the stomach as hard as he could. The orc grunted as a rush of air exploded out of his lungs and pain erupted from where he’d been hit.

“That counts as an attack,” Arek decided. The last of the normal colors left his sight, leaving everything tinted in a blood-red hue.

He rose, completely ignoring Ugly’s attempts to restrain his movement. Arek tore his arms free of the man’s grasp and grabbed him by his hair. The orc’s other arm shot out before Scar could react. He grabbed him as well and lifted both men into the air. Then he slammed their heads together with all the force he could muster.

They collided with a sickening thunk.

“Don’t worry, boss,” Scar said. He spat on Arek’s chest. “This joker hits like a little girl. We’ll—”

Arek slammed the two men’s heads into each other again. Scar went silent. The orc tossed them onto the ground and stepped past them.

“What is it with you morons and spitting?” the orc growled. “And, for the record, I know a little girl that hits harder than the past seven generations of your pitiful ancestral line.”

The bald man swallowed, stepping away from Arek and raising the bag of oranges in front of him like a shield. “Do you even know who I am? You’re dead, you hear me? My guild will tear you apart!”

“Oh, will they?” Arek asked, baring his teeth. The effect was less intimidating due to the illusion surrounding him, but it still got the point across. “I don’t see them here. I only see you and me.”

The bald man swallowed. “Look, you want the oranges? You can have them, okay? I don’t even—”

“I didn’t say I wanted the oranges,” the orc growled. “I told you not to waste your food.”

Arek nodded towards the piece of orange that the man had spat onto Uri. It rested on the ground by her feet.

“Finish your meal.”

“What? That’s preposterous, you vile brute. I’m not going to eat food off the ground.

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