Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 787: I just wanted to eat... damn, what a shitty city!
Cassandra's comment still hung in the air as they moved into a narrower street, a jagged corridor between buildings too old to be beautiful and too new to be considered historic. There, the flow of people was less organized, more rough, made up of poorly disguised shoves, deliberately wide elbows, and glances that assessed risk and opportunity simultaneously. It was the kind of place where nobody apologized for bumping into someone—because it was almost never an accident.
Strax walked at the same leisurely pace as before, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed, completely out of place in that setting. Cassandra and Daniela, on the other hand, had already instinctively adjusted their bodies, steps slightly firmer, attention too focused to seem casual. They knew that kind of street. They knew that kind of people.
Then someone bumped into Strax.
Not hard. Not weak. A deliberately clumsy bump, the kind designed to test reaction. The man's shoulder slammed against Strax's chest, but it was like colliding with an immovable wall. The impact nearly threw the aggressor himself backward.
The man turned immediately, his face etched with arrogance and cheap alcohol, a crooked smile on his lips. He was taller than average, broad-shouldered, with worn clothes and a blade barely concealed at his waist.
"Watch where you're going, little whore," he growled, spitting out the word as if it were an old habit.
Strax didn't react.
He didn't blink.
His expression didn't change.
The man let out a short laugh and tried to pass him, throwing his body forward again—and bumped into him again.
This time, harder.
And this time, Strax simply… didn't move.
The shock was sharp. The man felt the impact travel up his arm, his shoulder, his chest, as if he had struck something that shouldn't be there. He took a step back, confused, irritated. Strax slowly turned his face towards Cassandra and Daniela, slightly pointing with his chin at the man, his neutral expression carrying a silent question.
"Do you know him?"
Cassandra analyzed the man for a second, her eyes cold, and shook her head. "No."
Daniela did the same. "Never seen him."
Strax nodded, as if that solved some internal equation.
The man frowned. "Hey. Are you ignoring me now?"
He took a step forward, pushing Strax with both hands, putting real force into it this time.
Nothing.
Strax didn't move an inch.
The push returned to the man as a silent answer, making him stagger back slightly. The smile disappeared, replaced by pure rage.
"Who do you think you are, you bastard?" he growled, his hand instinctively going for his weapon.
Strax let out a slow, deep sigh, the kind that came from genuine weariness, not momentary irritation. He took one hand out of his pocket and scratched the side of his neck, looking at the man as if assessing something too inconvenient for that time of day.
"Stop," he said calmly. "Go away."
The man laughed. Loudly. Attracting curious glances around. "Or what?"
Strax tilted his head slightly. His voice didn't rise. It didn't tremble. It didn't carry any theatrical threat.
"Or I'll kill you."
There was a brief silence.
Not because people respected the warning.
But because something in his tone… didn't match bravado.
The man hesitated for a fraction of a second—enough time to realize too late that he had chosen the wrong target. Still, pride got the better of him. He lunged forward again, trying to shove Strax violently, already half out of control, shouting something incoherent.
Strax didn't flinch.
He reached out.
It was too quick for anyone not watching closely. A simple, direct, almost casual movement. His fingers closed around the man's arm—not at the wrist, not at the hand, but above, firm enough to stop any attempt at reaction.
There was a dry sound.
Not a bang.
A deep, definitive snap.
The man's body froze for an instant, his eyes widening in utter shock before the pain even had time to reach his brain. The arm simply… wasn't there anymore, separated from the body as if it had never been part of it.
The man fell to his knees in a second, the scream coming soon after, tearing through the air and sending the entire street recoiling in immediate panic.
Strax released the arm as one drops something useless.
The limb fell to the ground with a dead weight.
Silence.
People around began to move away quickly, pushing each other away from the scene, some screaming, others simply fleeing without looking back. Tents were hastily closed. Doors were locked. Chaos spread like wildfire.
Cassandra closed her eyes for a moment and let out a tired sigh. "You warned me."
Daniela crossed her arms, watching the man writhe on the ground, screaming and bleeding, and commented with a frightening calmness: "He really didn't stop."
Strax looked at the fallen man, his expression blank, almost bored. "People usually think I'm joking."
He then put his hand back in his pocket, as if he had just dealt with a minor inconvenience, and looked around the now practically empty street.
"Let's go," he said. "Before the guards decide to show up and pretend they care."
Cassandra nodded, adjusting her pace to his without even looking back. Daniela gave one last look at the man on the ground and let out a crooked half-smile.
The street still seemed to hold its breath as they walked away, as if all of Athenion was trying to decide whether to pretend nothing had happened or to accept that this presence was now part of the city's fabric.
Strax walked ahead, too calm for someone who had just spread panic, while Cassandra and Daniela followed him unhurriedly, ignoring the cautious glances that emerged from behind half-open windows and poorly closed doors.
The chaos quickly faded—in that city, problems were forgotten as easily as they arose, as long as they didn't directly threaten those in power.
A few blocks later, the atmosphere began to change. The narrow streets gave way to a more organized area, with well-kept facades, hand-painted signs, and the unmistakable smell of hot food escaping from open doors. Strax took a deep breath, a gesture almost too human for someone like him.
"I'm hungry," he said simply. "I want to try the food in Athenion."
Daniela let out a short laugh. "After ripping off a guy's arm?"
"It whets the appetite," he replied, too serious to be joking.
Cassandra pointed to a two-story building with a wooden balcony and gently swaying lanterns hanging from it. "That inn is decent. Good food, discreet owners, and they don't ask questions."
"Perfect," said Strax.
They entered the place like ordinary customers. The interior was spacious, with sturdy dark wood tables, a counter polished by constant use, and a comfortable murmur of low conversations. The smell of freshly baked bread, seasoned meat, and hot broth immediately enveloped the three. A few customers glanced at them quickly, curious, but soon returned to their own meals.
Strax chose a table further away, near the wall, sitting down with his usual calm. Cassandra sat to his left, Daniela to his right. A waiter approached quickly, a middle-aged man with a practiced smile and overly attentive eyes.
"What would you like?" he asked.
Strax scanned the menu with genuine interest. "Bring whatever is typical. I want to understand this city through its food."
The man laughed nervously and wrote it down. "Very good."
While they waited, Daniela rested her elbow on the table. "You know this isn't going to end out there, right?"
"I know," Strax replied, looking around. "But I still have hope of finishing a meal."
The food arrived far too quickly for a quiet place—steaming plates, grilled meat with local spices, vegetables cooked in a thick sauce, warm bread. Strax observed everything with almost academic attention before tasting. His eyes lit up slightly.
"Good," he commented. "Athenion gets this right."
Cassandra smiled slightly. "She needs to get something right."
They had barely begun to eat when the inn door burst open with too much force.
The murmur ceased almost immediately.
Several men entered at once, spreading across the hall with a coordination that betrayed intent. They were armed, some with short swords, others with clubs, all with tense and aggressive expressions. Among them, supported by two accomplices, was the man from the street.
Or what was left of him.
His missing arm was wrapped in makeshift bandages, stained with dried blood. His face was pale, distorted by pain, hatred, and humiliation. His eyes met Strax's instantly.
In fact… all eyes met his.
The innkeeper took a step back, pale. Customers began to rise slowly, pushing chairs, some already heading for the exit.
Strax continued eating.
He chewed calmly, swallowed, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and only then raised his eyes to the group in front of him. His gaze passed over each of them slowly, assessing, counting, discarding.
Then he sighed.
He turned his face slightly towards Cassandra and Daniela, who had already stopped eating.
"Are you tired of this too?" he asked, in an almost resigned tone.
Cassandra closed her eyes for a moment. Daniela rested her forehead on her hand.
"The people here have an incredible talent for making bad decisions," Daniela murmured.
Strax looked back at the men. His voice didn't need to rise to cut through the silent hall.
"I really need to ask," he said, with absolute calm, "do you really want to die?"
The armless man stepped forward, leaning on something, his voice trembling with anger. "You… you think you can do this and walk away?"
Strax tilted his head slightly. "I did. And I walked away."
One of the men pulled his gun more forcefully, nervously. Another spat on the floor. The atmosphere was on the verge of collapse.
Cassandra slowly pushed her chair back, standing up. Daniela did the same, cracking her neck with a dangerous smile spreading across her face.
Strax remained seated for another second, observing the plate in front of him, as if genuinely regretting the interruption. Then he stood up as well, adjusting his coat.
"Last chance," he said. "Leave. Now."
No one left.
Strax sighed again. "What a shame."







