I pushed past Anna. Softly, but with as much excitement as finding out your 5 year old had a surprise for you—and it was cooking related.

  “So… what did you hear when I said to NOT burn the house down?”

  Waiting for a response that shouldn’t come, but did anyway.

  “While I understand your frustration Greg, the error was not on my part.”

  One cannot claim responsibility but deny it when something goes wrong.

  “So what… oh.” Now witnessing the source of said burning smell.

  “Lay your fucking weapons down or we will...” One side of adventurers yelled before being interrupted by the opposing party, which were situated behind the burning remains of my once luscious beds.

  “Shut your mouth, tree-fucker. We were here first, so you can piss off back where you came from!” The human adventurer slurred, pointing a severely unwashed finger at them.

  “Who you calling tree-fucker? Your kind likes to drink each other’s piss for sustenance!” The group of dark-skinned elves retorted, flaming arrows aimed right back at them.

  Defaq is this, a roast match?

  Looking at the dining section, which was used as a fortified base for the elves.

  “We don’t drink piss, but when you run out of water…”

  A round of deafening laughter broke the human’s spirit. Giving me a front-row seat of the next exchange or arrows and thrown spears.

  [Sir Charge is calculating]

  You fucking better!

  I dropped my shopping bags, my remaining bills and gifts pouring out of them like rice. Then continued to slowly step forward into the main room and between the two groups.

  “You guys have any idea what this is going to cost you?!” I commanded with white-knuckled fists and twitching eyes.

  “You are?” One of the elves asked mockingly.

  There’s that taste of copper again—but now I smell gold!

  Snickering to myself as the first calculation notification blessed my ears. Like a flash-bang.

  [Current Sir Charge Cost]

  [Furniture Damage: 200 gold coins]

  [Structure Damage: 300 gold coins]

  [Potential Revenue Loss: 100 gold coins]

  [Emotional Damage: unable to calculate]

  Ok. That last one was funny.

  “Now.” Clapping my hands together for their attention.

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  “I’m Greg. You can call me Sir Greg, Mr Reed or simply Greg.”

  I walked over to one of the charred arrows in my floorboard. The one that now resembled the look of some sort of cheese—and definitely triggering someone’s trypophobia.

  “You are in… how do you say Anna?” Looking over my shoulder for a smug one-two combo.

  Nothing.

  I let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.

  “Simply put, you guys destroyed parts of my house… and that’ll cost ya.”

  There was a pregnant pause, before both sides burst out laughing.

  “You what now? You’re lucky if we don’t put you down right away.” The human snorted, pointing his sword at me.

  “A human threatening a dark elf, how original—and stupid.” The elf replied, rolling his eyes in disbelief.

  I looked at the 2 groups of adventurers and started to feel rage bubbling in my gut.

  Did they honestly think they could just waltz into someone’s home and destroy it?

  I was about to start using the lord's name in vain, while simultaneously cursing as many words as the English dictionary allowed—without resorting to made up slurs.

  When another notification appeared.

  *Ding*

  [For fulfilling a prerequisite you have been awarded a unique Skill]

  [Throwing Hands]

  What?

  [Throwing Hands]

  [Temporarily disable all combat and spell capabilities to troublemakers within the Safezone. Limiting fighting to fists and feet only]

  [Note: This only lasts for 1 Hour]

  [Side Note: Individuals might react differently when forced to fight without the aid of tools and magic]

  Huh, will you look at that?

  I subconsciously activated the skill, a thing I was doing by intent mostly and only when the conditions seemed appropriate.

  It said troublemakers—and I’m the home-owner-operator.

  I turned to ward the human, who just looked at me with wide eyes as the steel in his hand dropped to the ground with a loud clang.

  “Everything good boss? Why you dropping your blade?” His comrade inquired, armoured glove clasping around his shoulder.

  My pace was steady, now swiping up a wooden leg. From a table by the looks of it, and kept my eyes locked on the man.

  Now the rest of the group dropped their weapons, while I heard the subtle gasps of wooden bows hit the floor boards and a “what the hell” from the opposing group.

  The wooden leg connected with the man’s jaw with a loud crunch and a muffled “urgh”, as he ate that hit with full force. Dropping to the ground in one clean strike.

  I wasn’t the best fighter, nor even a competent human by any means of strength. But show me a man who can’t swing a bat and I’ll show you… well.

  Me—I can swing a bat!

  The man groaned on the floor, blood from his bruised and split mouth drooling onto my ever increasingly damaged floorboards.

  “Now then, that’s you lot sorted.” I announced and turned on my heel, heading toward the elves next.

  “Hold up now human. Shit, what was his name again?” The lead elf scrambled, looking at his fellow companions for assistance.

  “I think it rhymed with leg or something.” Another elf responded.

  Oh I’ll give you a leg!

  Spinning the bat round and round, like that episode from the walking dead. You know which one.

  “So which of you is getting the lumber?” I announced like some weird executioner.

  Without delay and somehow with the hint of “oh shit, I think we just fucked up.” The lead elf was unceremoniously pushed out in front of me, his once smug facade replaced by a man running calculations through his head.

  “Stupid was it?” I queried, pulling the wooden leg back for a home-run.

  The elf didn’t flinch, but simply pulled his arms up to protect his face. Arms and legs visibly shaking, but tensing all the same for the incoming strike.

  Oh my sweet boy, wrong target.