Chapter 185: Book Three – Chapter Ten – Part Five – The Banquet of Death

Oh, Servi's fun still continued. She flew up into the air via Air Step and used Telekinesis to grab any survivors she saw. The wind blowing by from such an altitude brushed across her breasts. Though she didn’t show any embarrassment of showing off her naked body, nonetheless, Servi took the short second to make herself decent in whatever clothes she saw first. The color and style didn’t match, a short dress with bright yellow pants and silver shoes, but not a single person laughed or chuckled at her state of apparel.  

Her power spoke for her, and it became even more convincing when she used Telekinesis to grasp any survivors that tried to run away. The battle was their loss. They saw that clearly. Some attempted to use skills like Smokescreen to assist them, but no one successfully escaped.

Nine people remained alive, and after Servi focused on an Elf with a staff, eight people were left when she ripped her head off. That divided in half when Servi froze four Dwarfs with a hundred Ice Balls each. For the final four, Servi simply tossed them to the ground, but Telekinesis wasn't involved. No, she used Air Step to drag all four up a distance of 250 meters and then slammed them down using her physical strength. To say they suffered anything else than liquefaction would be a vast understatement. It felt like the very earth shook when each one slapped the ground in quick succession.  

She danced her way across the sky over to the nearest building and sat down.  

“It’s done,” she whispered. "By my count, that was the last base. They’re all dead. I killed them. I took their despicable power and made it my own.” Her voice still contained and harbored her undivided hatred, but the way her words were articulated by her lips was different. It was as if realizing that, more than ever, her goal was near enough that she could almost grab it with her two hands. Only eight or nine hours remained until the moon went to bed. 

Do you want to check the 1st and 2nd base? Itarr asked. She bravely found the courage to talk with Servi.  

“I already did when I was bouncing through the city earlier. We went right past them, and no one was there.” 

How do you know that? 

“I actually crashed into the buildings belonging to them. If someone was inside, then I would’ve gotten their souls because they would’ve died. If they didn’t die, they're fatally injured. Shit, what do I do now?” Servi laid back on the dirty roof covered in white, dried bird excrement. Her beautiful black hair became stained by it, but not a single word of displeasure escaped her lips.  

Servi, remember the RASP buildings? Can we do something about them? 

“Sure. Want me to destroy--" 

Itarr quickly cut her friend off. No! I mean, let’s help them. RASP is short for Rent-A-Slave-Program. That means there are slaves inside there.  

“And? What does that have to do with me?” Servi responded in an uppity manner. Itarr became furious and decided she didn’t care if Servi hated her.  

Because think of how Momo would feel! Think of how Seka and Seko would feel! What about Liealia and Llamare?! Servi, we risked our lives to help them rescue those slaves at the markets in Canary! Isn’t it our duty to do what we can? Remember what you said to me on the day we met? You told me that you want to protect those who can’t defend themselves. And those slaves can’t do that! So we have to do it! We have to protect them! 

“Will Momo approve of it?” Servi suddenly rose up.  

Yes! She will! Come on! Hey, take out the map! We can find the closest RASP building. 

Servi raised her hands and grabbed onto invisible platforms created from Air Step. She used them as a pull-up bar, but instead of getting to her feet, Servi pulled down so hard she flew dozens of meters into the sky. Servi's body twirled until her she faced her destination, and she jumped across the sky with the help of a skill that quickly rose to the top of her favorites.  

I’m glad some of the old Servi is here! We only need to do a little bit of good, and I’m sure she’ll come back! Itarr wanted to pat herself on the back for convincing Servi to do a bit of rescuing instead of murdering, but she had no idea what was coming.  

---

Before Servi landed in front of the first RASP building of the night, she inadvertently flew over an armor shop belonging to a worthless husband by the name of Dal. He was a man who cared more about the thrill of gambling than the thoughts and feelings of his wife and children. She didn’t know what compelled her to slow down and descend to the second-floor window belonging to his room, but she certainly never expected to find him dangling from the ceiling.  

“I guess she took the kids and left.” Servi placed no encouragement or sadness in the tone of voice she spoke with. He was trash, plain and simple. The knocked-over chair a meter away from him suggested he tried to break his neck so the death would be painless, but the nasty state of his room suggested the opposite. Servi broke the window and hopped through. The decomposing smell of his corpse had built up, creating a rotten stench far stronger than one man ought to be able to produce.  

“What a failure. Dal couldn’t even hang himself right on the first attempt.” Servi picked up a dirty rope from the floor and saw a few large nails hammered into the ceiling. Bits of frayed fabric stayed attached to them when he yanked them down in anger. “I gotta say, I don’t feel sorry for you. Enjoy death, you son of a bitch.” 

Servi hopped out of the window while running a hand through her hair, and she left behind a parting gift: Fire Wall. It surged to life after three Air Steps and died down after seven. Itarr watched in silence as the smoke billowed upwards.

That was probably for the best. If Dal's wife came back and saw that, I don’t want to imagine the sadness— Wait, why are you stopping? On their combined ID, Itarr asked the latter when Servi made a second sudden stop.  

A large church stood in front of them. Big and imposing, it held a max capacity of 200 worshipers. Such a magnificent church should’ve been the talk or icon of the town, and there was a chance it could have been, but the boat for that sailed a long time ago. None of the stained-glass windows were intact. Most didn’t even have a quarter of glass left standing in the window panes. The doorway was missing the two doors that used to stand guard, but with it gone, Servi waltzed right in like she owned the place.  

“We’re stopping because the church pisses me off. They should’ve done something when the Mafia showed up, but they didn’t.” Servi finally answered Itarr’s question.  

She figured it would be the case when she saw piles of warm piss outside, but the inner sanctum belonged to the homeless. Most were asleep with clutched bottles continuing the faint traces of Monotonia, but one was awake. He clutched his scarred head and wobbled back and forth. Whatever flavor of Monotonia he took fried his brain, but he shouted at Servi when his crazed eyes looked at her.  

He stood up, leaning forward as he did and fell over. His teeth severed his tongue from his mouth, but such a trivial thing didn’t stop him from calling Servi the devil. His words, slurred and nearly indecipherable, woke up the others who used a place of worship as a place of rest. They all stared at Servi, and she saw the blood coming from their eyes. If Monotonia had a side effect that caused that, then she wasn’t aware of it, but their frantic state didn’t deter her from what she came to do.  

She hopped back. The crazies followed her out, stumbling over the broken floor and raised asphalt. The pain in their mouths and fragile bodies did very little to prevent them from seeing a growing wave of fire. It started small, of course, like all the other fires in the world, but roared alive when Servi kept stacking Fire Walls. Faster than a blink of the eye, it swallowed the building, church and homeless both, turning them into ash. The light it gave off brightened up a large portion of the town, allowing Servi to take in the dilapidated state of things one last time before the sun came up. Then like the noise produced from a single clap, it was gone. The fire disappeared like it never existed, even though the charred, smoldering remains stood right in front of her.  

Itarr wanted to ask if killing them was something they had to do, but she didn’t have time. By the time the words appeared on the ID, Servi had jumped all the way to her destination.  

It wasn’t the one she crashed into, but it looked similar. With the chaos she produced over the week, the line to get in stretched far and long. Even with death on the line and mysterious events happening over the week, the debaucherous leeches couldn’t go a day without rubbing their privates against something. The RASP program offered far more than sexual favors, but most men and women treated the RASP buildings as a second brothel.

Nearly every slave was of the female gender, after all. There were a few men of the feminine variety who remained to satisfying a particular fetish that was starting to grow, but the rest had either died or had been sent to work somewhere else.

In many ways, the rotten buildings provided more than a simple whore house like Boxcar. It held many rooms within its walls, much like a hotel, yet the cost of a room included the slave they wanted to rent. But in terms of price, Boxcar had it beat. Since it was the more expensive option of the two, the line standing outside the RASP building, at this very moment, contained more wealth than what the Boxcar earned in a month.  

“Hey, bitch, to the back—” Some tough-looking man grabbed Servi’s shoulder, but she exploded him from within via Telekinesis. The crowd stared, but soon, their bodies were sliced in half at the chest when a fast-moving object sped past them. It was her nadrium greatsword, controlled by Telekinesis, that did the harrowing deed. The street she stood on did not contain a single soul, so nobody saw her.  

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Itarr thought about saying something, but again, she refrained against it. In her eyes, the Servi she fell in love with fought against the mental blocks, yearning to become the dominant personality. She was so close to coming back. Itarr only believed she needed a little push.  

Servi gripped the sticky door handle and opened it up. She stepped forward. Her boots deposited whatever filth they had on the black carpet as she walked up to the only desk. A large sign displaying different prices for different debaucherous acts stood behind an Elf with a nose ring. She glanced at Servi and held up a hand, so Servi wasted time by reading the sign. Nothing stood out to her until she read the last line out loud.

“If you have business that involves killing or maiming your rented slave, please register for an appointment with the acting manager.” Disgust slammed into her stomach like a ton of bricks.  

“Ah, would you like—” the Elven receptionist looked up from a book on her desk. Thick black bags dirtied her brown eyes. Even though she seemed kind enough, that didn’t matter. Looks didn’t account for anything. Servi rushed forward with her left arm out, catching the Elf off guard. As Servi crushed her throat, her other hand went to the nose ring, ripping it out. A typical response would be to scream, but Servi’s grip could crush stone. Preventing a fleeting scream from escaping was simple. She stared at the bloody nose ring and simply let it fall to the floor.

Servi then held a fist to the Elf's face and slowly pushed it forward, continuing until her bloody arm emerged out of the back of the Elf's head. Then Servi dropped her like a pile of bricks, leaving her corpse for all to see. She then walked into the first door on the right down the only hallway available to her.  

 The door had the world ‘occupied’ written on it in scratchy handwriting. Servi opened it, and the noise of a man thrusting himself on a Human girl filled her ears. They were so deep in mid-coitus that neither of them heard the door open. Their ears didn’t pick up a set of footsteps that only grew louder as Servi walked across the tiled ground. She grabbed him by the shoulder and ripped him off of the girl. 

Servi looked down at the crying girl. Red welts surrounded her inner thighs, and a steady stream of white leaked out from her most secret areas Apparently, the foul bastard Servi held had finished inside. She turned up to the man, and that was when she realized something.  

She had seen him before. After her best friend’s kidnapping at The Berrycanta Inn, Servi walked out of the room belonging to the scene of the crime. Then she stepped into the room next door. That was when she saw that man having sex, and she foolishly decided to heal him and the girl he was inside after she threw them both out of the window.  

Servi's naivety at the time had cost the girl before her an evening of pain. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. But gravity wouldn’t be the cause of his death. No, Servi needed to be sure he wouldn’t have the chance to force himself on anyone else. So she killed him by breaking his neck and throwing him on the floor. His large stomach twitched during his final moments, but a red soul soon found a home inside Servi’s ring.  

“Hey, that fucker won’t bother you again.” Servi produced a blanket and laid it on the sniveling girl. She expected the girl to speak, even if it was nothing more than a whimper, but she never expected the words she uttered.  

“Why did you do that?!” the girl cried. “I don’t wanna go in the hole!! I don’t wanna!! Mama, don’t make me go in the hole!!!!”  

“There’s going to be no hole. I’m here to save you,” Servi replied. She crouched down and carefully held the girl’s hand. Small and shaking, it said all she needed to know.  

“Stop lying! This is Mama playing another trick on me! I’m not falling for it!” 

Servi lifted the girl up and sat her on the floor. She stared into her crying eyes and waited for her to say something else, but that didn't happen. The abused girl dropped her towel and started to smack her savior. It wasn't just once or twice, and it wasn't even ten times. A hollow sound filled the room twenty-eight times. Each smack came accompanied by a curse or expletive directed towards Servi.  

On the twenty-ninth smack, Servi warned her not to hit her again. “Don’t do it. I promise I’m only here to save you and the others. Come—” 

“I JUST WANT YOU TO LEAVE AND DIE!” The girl raised her hand for the thirtieth time, and Servi responded with a smack of her own, which knocked the girl's head clean off her shoulders.  

WHY DID YOU KILL HER?!!! Itarr yelled, scribbling her words on the ID many times over. It was the only thing she could do to show her utter disgust. Servi stared at the girl's head as it gruesomely slid down the wall and said a simple sentence.  

“She attacked me. She’s an enemy. They’re all enemies. This whole fucking town is full of people who I have to kill!” 

No! They aren’t!! 

“Yes, they are! I tried to help them! I did! I FUCKING TRIED TO DO IT YOUR WAY!!! GODDAMN IT, ITARR, WE DON’T NEED TO HELP OUR FUCKING ENEMIES!!!” Servi smacked the vibrating ID out of the air. It exploded into red dust, which was something that Servi never wanted to absorb.  

Itarr collapsed into another crying mess. Her naïve plan of trying to get the old Servi back via rescuing the slaves had failed in a way she never expected.  

I don’t understand why she didn’t grasp at the chance of freedom?! And now I’m responsible for her death!!! A yellow gas filled Servi’s vision—and Itarr’s vision—and she panicked. She did all she could to assume control over Servi’s use of skills, but it was impossible. Even when she could speak to her, Itarr never held power to forcibly control Servi’s abilities. In theory, it was possible to manipulate Servi’s emotions to sway her towards specific techniques and skills. Itarr didn't want to go that far because her only goal was for Servi to always remain happy. She never desired to go beyond that.

Servi nearly wiped herself out of exhaustion when she used Kaasuvuoto to flood the area with poisonous gas. When accounting for the wind and other factors, she performed feats of legends. Comparing that to flooding the RASP building with the same gas didn’t seem comparable in any way. And in a way, that was true. However, filling an entire building, especially one with six or seven floors while accounting for any holes that allowed outside air to filter through, was still a breathtaking feat, to say the least.  

A flood of red souls joined her extensive reservoir inside her ring, and Servi pulled open the map. Her eyes darted to the remaining buildings.  

A terrible feeling welled up inside Itarr. No… She wouldn’t do that!!!! Would she? She wouldn’t go to each building and flood—no! NO!!!!! NO!!!! Servi, you have to stop! PLEASE, STOP!!!! 

Like before, Servi slammed her franticly moving ID into the floor. Then she picked up the soiled bed and threw it into the wall. It exploded, revealing a way for her to leave, and she took it.  

In the eight hours Servi had until the sun came up, she went to every RASP building and pumped it full of Kaasuvuoto’s poisonous gas. Such acts of depravity depressed Itarr. As she wallowed in sadness, a weird thought forced itself to the front of her mind.  

Why did we get a different amount of souls from each building? It doesn’t make sense. It's almost as if certain RASP buildings had something extra, but I don’t know what it is. Does it even matter? Innocent people died! And it’s all my fault!!! I never should’ve asked her about it. Damnit, Itarr… 

After gassing the last building, Servi walked to the nearest roof that was closest to the forest. The sun had some time to show up, and Servi wasted time by taking a shower that lasted hours.

When the tiniest hints of red broke through the sky, Servi dried herself off and put on armor for what would hopefully be the last time.  

She sat down on the wet ground and stared at the sun as it soared across the horizon. Her eyes darted back and forth across the tree line in search of smoke.  

“Momo, today’s the day,” she whispered. “I've wiped out most of the Mafia, I’ve killed the enemies that rolled over and allowed those foul bastards to take root in this city, and now? I’m waiting. I’m waiting for the signal. Please, Mosie, stay strong for me. Your Servy is coming. I swear.” 

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