Limitless Evolution As a Snake

I try my absolute best not to break down in front of him, think mafia prince energy. Do not let him see the screaming.

Old mate, what the fuck is happening right now?

[System: Dunno cunt, dunno, but it’s bloody brilliant, watch this.]

Dad turns half around and hauls something out of the limo by the hair. A woman, long red hair, bright as blood, snake features hmm maybe a lamia, and she’s screaming, actual screaming, legs kicking against the gravel as he drags her out onto the ground in front of everyone.

"Guess what I found," he says, grinning wide and delighted, like he’s just presented me with a birthday cake. "Your whore mother."

The woman scrambles onto her knees, sobbing, screaming that she is not my mother, that I’m not her son, that this is insane, that she’s never even met me.

The delight vanishes from Dad’s face. He kicks her in the face without looking down, casual as swatting a fly.

"Ugh, ew it got on me." He wipes his shoe on the gravel. "Bitch got me when I was in heat, ruined a good suit too. i mean she did give me my son, but that’s it."

He straightens back up, smile returning instantly.

"Anyway. Found her, we’re going to flush her after this. See how she likes it," he says, his smile widening like he just got the best gift ever.

Cherry just smiles at me, happy as ever, completely unbothered by any of this, like we’re watching a nice parade go by.

I keep my face blank. Somewhere behind my ribs, my whole nervous system is doing laps around a burning building.

Old mate. Old mate, what the fuck do I do? I mean, I guess if they did fuck, then that’s Dad’s business, then?

[System: I dunno mate, I dunno, but it’s fun, isn’t it?]

"Uh," I manage. "Thanks, Dad. Hi, Mum?"

The woman on the ground looks up at me with pure hatred, spits in my direction, misses by a mile, and screams at me to die, and that I should never have been born.

Rude.

My mouth stretches open way further, and I fire off a shot right next to her head, gravel exploding an inch from her ear. She screams louder, scrambling back.

Dad claps, actual delighted applause, like I just landed a triple axel. "Ah, wonderful! Love the mods!"

Well, they aren’t mods, but whatever.

Cherry claps too, squealing, bouncing on my tail with pure joy.

Old mate lights up in my head like a slot machine hitting jackpot.

[System: Ok ok ok, I like where this is going, here’s fifteen IP for that, mate, bloody beautiful.]

Fifteen IP. For nearly deafening an innocent screaming woman who apparently isn’t even my mother, in front of my extremely fake mafia dad, my extremely real unhinged girlfriend, two Orc grunts who still haven’t decided whether to run or bow, and a tax inspector who looks like he’s regretting every decision that led him to this exact market stall.

Dad grabs her by the hair again, one hand, like she weighs nothing, and just picks her straight up off the ground. She’s still screaming, still kicking, and he carries her over to the limo like a guy carrying a grocery bag he’s mildly annoyed about.

He pops the trunk with his other hand. Doesn’t even look at her while he does it. Just folds her in there like luggage, slams it shut, and the screaming goes muffled and far away.

"Anyway," he laughed, brushing his hands off, completely unbothered, like he didn’t just stuff a woman in a trunk. "Hana, you and the others run the stall for now."

Hana nods once, sharp, and the hench crew moves in without a word, taking over the grill, the tongs, the whole operation like they’ve done it a hundred times.

Dad waves me over, casual, like he’s inviting me to grab a beer. "Come find me later," he says. "We’ll talk properly."

Then he’s turning, walking back toward the limo, straightening his cuffs like none of this just happened.

I glance over my shoulder. Cherry’s right there on my tail, grinning ear to ear, giving me a slow, approving nod and a big thumbs up like I just landed the winning goal.

Old mate chimes in, way too pleased with himself, of course.

[System: Yeah nah, don’t worry about the stall, mate, Hana’s got it, she’s been running this longer than you’ve been alive surely.]

Good, great. Wonderful. My fake mafia dad just kidnapped my maybe-mother, my girlfriend’s cheering like it’s a birthday party, and I’ve got two orc grunts standing there like someone hit pause on them mid-thought. I thought I wasn’t meant to be a villain or a hero?

[System: Hey, it’s good to learn both sides; think of it as an apprenticeship at a trade! Later we can go role-play as doctors or something.]

The tax inspector’s just gone, vanished. Smart man.

The alley’s basically empty now, just me, Cherry, the stunned orcs, and Hana’s crew setting up shop like nothing’s wrong.

I laugh, an actual real laugh, the first one that’s felt honest in the last week or so.

"Right." I dig into the box at the back of the shack and pull out one of the spare masks I keep for emergencies.

I toss it to Cherry. "Put that on, go hide somewhere else for a bit. I’ve got a thing I need to do."

She catches it, tilts her head, horn stumps twitching, but doesn’t argue. Just slips it on and scurries off into the crowd like a very small, very devoted shadow.

Old mate’s already sniffing around my intentions.

[System: Oh you’re not.]

Oh, I am.

I crouch down by the grill, dig through the box at the back, and pull out the good stuff. Grandpa’s recipe, passed down through generations of men who apparently hated their enemies’ respiratory systems. Stolen grain alcohol, a fat handful of devil peppers I definitely didn’t pay full price for from the witch two stalls down, and the dregs of a lighter fluid can I’ve been saving for a special occasion.

I got one of Dad’s guys to go get everything ready.

This feels like a special occasion.

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