THE DIMENSIONAL MERCHANT-Chapter 85 - 84: The Dao of Fear

"Help!" Vera screamed, clawing toward them. "He’s killing everyone! Please!"

Kael walked out from the alley behind her, the AK-47 in his hand.

The guards froze at the sight of them, eyes darting between the bleeding woman and the calmly advancing man.

"Merchant Kael, what are you doing?" one of the guards called out, stepping forward with a hand on the hilt of his short sword. His voice carried both fear and deference. "Are you... are you alright?"

Kael didn’t slow his steps. The barrel of the rifle tilted slightly downward. He stopped a few paces from the limp, bleeding form of Vera.

"Just eliminating some traitors," he said simply.

He tossed a small leather pouch toward the guard. It landed with a clink and rolled to a stop at his feet.

The man bent down and opened it. Inside—gleaming gold.

"Twenty gold coins," Kael said flatly. "I trust that’s enough for your cooperation."

The guards stared at the gold like wolves circling raw meat. Their eyes flicked between each other, silent calculation flashing behind them.

For guards in Ginip—especially ones stationed in the crumbling lower district—twenty gold was obscene. That was two thousand silver. Enough to feed a family for a decade. Enough to buy a small house in the countryside. Enough to vanish from their post and start a new life.

Vera’s eyes widened as she followed the transaction.

She looked at the guards. Then at Kael. Back again. Her face twisted in disbelief.

"...You bastards," she spat. "You fucking sold yourselves to him?"

The youngest of the three, a narrow-eyed man with an uneven beard, gave a small shrug. "What do you think this city runs on, girl? Honor? We’re not knights."

"You’re fucking enslaving yourselves to an outsider!" Vera screamed, dragging herself upright on one elbow. Blood poured from her leg, pooling beneath her. "He’s not even from this kingdom! I paid you. Every week! I gave you silver—EVERY WEEK!"

The older guard, stockier and wearing cracked pauldrons, snorted. "Yeah. You did. Not enough, though."

"You think twenty gold doesn’t change things?" the bearded one added with a laugh. "You bribe us with scraps. He’s offering real coins. It’s twenty gold! You understand?"

"You motherfuckers—!" she screamed. "You’re supposed to protect the people of Ginip! And I am one of them!"

"You’re a whore," the last guard said, stepping closer to her. His voice was flat. "That’s all you are. A gutter rat with tits who thought licking boots made her a queen."

"You have any idea how many crimes you’ve committed?" barked the older one. "You threatened shopkeepers for protection fees. Racketeering. Theft. Drug peddling. Oh—and don’t forget working under Red Morn. You’re not just a thug—you’re a fucking terrorist."

Vera’s eyes were bloodshot. Her mouth opened—closed—opened again. She tried to say something, but her voice cracked.

Kael stood silently, rifle still in hand, eyes expressionless.

The youngest guard stepped forward, now clearly emboldened.

"Master Kael—if you don’t mind... we’ll take her from here. There’s a bounty on her head. She’s wanted in Mangort. Real shitshow."

"Oh?" Kael raised a brow, mildly interested.

"Yeah. She worked in a noble’s household. Stabbed the old man in the gut and ran off with a bag of rubies."

"You lying fuckers!" Vera shrieked. "It wasn’t me! I—I didn’t do it—!"

"Shut the fuck up," the older guard said, kicking her hard in the ribs.

She coughed violently and slumped sideways, sobbing.

"I saw your face," the bearded guard sneered. "On the poster. You are a wanted criminal. We ignored it before, but now? Yeah. It’s time we did something useful for once. The bounty on your head’s decent."

Kael finally spoke again.

"Fine. Take her."

He stepped past her, looking down with dead eyes.

"I also killed a few others in the alley. Make sure the bodies are burned. I want no names. No trails. If my name comes up, I’ll make your families disappear."

The air seemed to grow colder as he spoke.

The guards stiffened. Then, after a brief pause, the older one nodded deeply, almost like a bow. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel-com

"We understand, Master Kael. Not a word. As always. Our arrangement stands."

"You’ve been good to us," the bearded one added. "You give better than our own captain. And you don’t ask questions. We like that."

Kael gave a small nod.

"Then we’re done here."

He turned and began to walk away.

Behind him, Vera’s screams echoed.

"NO—NO PLEASE—KAEL—!! YOU FUCKING MONSTER! YOU—"

Her voice was cut off by another kick. Then only sobs.

Kael didn’t look back.

That day, after the fire, the artificer hadn’t told anything to the Guard Captain. Kael had confirmed as much through a quiet bribe to the right ears. The man hadn’t said a word—yet. But silence today was no guarantee of silence tomorrow.

And Kael couldn’t take that risk.

So Kael bribed those same guards to silence the artificer permanently. They tracked down the old man and his apprentice as they were slipping out of the city—and ended them both before they could ever become a problem.

His grandfather once told him:

A man who leaves an enemy alive is a fool. A man who leaves a witness is dead.

Kael walked alone beneath the worn stone arches of Ginip.

He’d learned long ago—power wasn’t just about wealth or weapons. It was about making sure people never forgot what you were capable of.

Mercy? That was a gamble.

Let someone live, and maybe they stab you in the back next time.

Kill them, and they never get the chance.

That was how empires were built.

Not with kindness.

With fear.

With precision.

With silence.

In this world or on Earth, the law didn’t protect the weak. It protected the rich. The ruthless. The powerful people. The ones who understood that the rules were written in ink, but rewritten in blood.

He’d come to this world with ideas. Technology. Things no one had seen before.

But those things attracted attention. Power drew envy.

He could play the game like a merchant—but sometimes, he had to act like a monster.

Because Kael understood something most men didn’t:

You couldn’t build the future without burying the past.

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