I Reincarnated As My Waifu, What Do? 20

My fist shattered the thug's nose the moment he thought he had me.

Why does everyone assume I can't fight?

"It's because you're short, blonde, and your tits are gigantic."

"Did I ask that out loud?" I asked, allowing myself to express my displeasure, even as I kicked the man who had just tried to attack me away. He rolled on the floor. "Really though, do people seriously think a defenseless, brainless twit would walk into the slums like this?"

"That would be where the brainless part comes in!"

The leader of my own thugs was entirely too used to me by this point to be in awe. The underworld of Trom was not entirely under my command, not yet at least, but it was at times like these that there was a visceral, guttural satisfaction in taking it over. Directing men and even watching their progress was all good, but...

"There's a certain satisfaction one gets from dirtying one's own hands," I muttered, using a handkerchief to wipe the blood and snot off of my knuckles, then tossing it away. I stretched my arm, flexed it, then threw a fist at the air, the sound of its displacement a satisfying whoosh. "I don't often get to use this set of skills you know, for all the training I put into my body."

Arnaldo looked me up and down.

In my military dress, I struck a fairly different figure than I usually did. While I was still wearing a bit of ceremonial gear, most of it was stripped, and instead, the almost entirely practical dress uniform allowed me freedom of movement. Red and black, accented in gold, and stretched at the chest area like almost everything else that wasn't designed with me in mind.

None of that seemed to do anything to prevent the lecherous gazes of my own men, roving over my body. A princess with dignity may be insulted, one with poise may ignore them, an innocent may not even know.

I bent over at the waist, very deliberately, to pick up a knife from the ground, making sure to take my time. I didn't need my powers to tell me that my men were very excited by this little show that I put on, impromptu and unprovoked... If I'm going to be keeping control of them, I must give them their 'salary' so to speak. These wretches may indeed be corrupt, but they are my wretches in the end.

Besides I don't even really mind that much at this point, even if most of these people have some really extreme fetishes... I'd have thought they'd be the sorts to enjoy violating and humiliating women, but you only need to walk in on Amalia with the whip once to know that's not quite the case.

At least, not anymore. They even thank her for the punishment these days. Amalia has become quite the versatile minx.

"You highborn cun-"

A man who was pretending to be knocked out grabbed his knife and tried to rush at me, but even as Arnaldo jumped at him to try to knock him back down to the ground, I was much faster, performing a roundhouse kick that had him spinning in the air, to land in a heap of trash.

"Why, exactly, you choose to live in trash and squalor instead of doing something with all that drug money you've got, I'll never get," I muttered. 

The tenement was dirty, to say the least. Trash, blood and vomit caked the floor and walls. About the only clean area was directly around the sole piece of furniture in the room, a large desk with a set of alchemists' equipment, as well as quite a few ingredients as well as packets of finished product.

In front of it, a man grit his teeth, clenched his fists, and tried to somehow make himself threatening, despite being a thin, weedy and thoroughly unimpressive lab rat type of person. As much as my own body is deceptive, it's quite rare to have any sort of skill that conceals your strength in a weak body.

The alchemist spat, glaring at me. "Who the fuck do you think you're fucking with, little chit, I'll find whatever family's backing you and-"

"I think I'm fucking with Vignuolo," I responded, cutting him off. Vignuolo was a supposedly legit businessman... a legit businessman who showed up in the black ledgers of a handful of nobles of the Kingdom. The obligations of nobility as per their skills weren't quite ironclad and fully proofed against abuse. After all, allowing people to sell something in your lands isn't considered an act of malice against your own people, as long as you're able to justify it to yourself.

The man gave me a weak, crooked grin. "If you get on your knees and give me some service I might forg-"

I walked up to him as he spoke, and then grabbed him by the face, slamming him into his equipment and destroying most of it, the glass shattering and much of it sticking to his back and arms, before I tossed him off of it.

"Now, see, normally I have no problem getting on my knees to gain the services of a skilled man, or woman, or both," I said, raising an eyebrow. "But then, you're not the sort of man who works well under supervision, are you Vignuolo? Do you know how many families want you dead?"

He whimpered and cried a little. So much for a man who thought himself strong, powerful and dangerous, merely because he commanded the lowlives addicted to his product. I eyed it on the desk, my nose twitching as I caught a whiff of the sickeningly sweet, disgusting smell.

Would that I could launch fireballs from my hands, or just burn it with my mind's power. People seeking an escape of their daily life, whether it be a soul crushingly boring routine or a painful reality, I can understand. On some level, I sympathize. I know how much one may wish to be someone else, if even for a limited time.

And yet, this poison destroys the people's lives. Drugs mixed with poison. "Makes it more addictive," Arnaldo said, grabbing one of the little pouches, "when it's mixed with powdered blue poppy petals, they call it Blue Ghost, since people behave like they're possessed when they're on it."

I hummed. "You're no talented man. You're a reject, a reprobate, a worthless imitation of a proper alchemist," I muttered. "Riding the coattails of your betters. If you hadn't started distributing the poison that's ailing my people, you'd never have incurred my wrath."

Vignuolo whimpered, squirming a bit in pain.

"The truth of the matter is, if I just had the guardsmen of the capital take you into custody, you would indeed get out. You know too many people, can sing too many songs, and supply too many people, for you to ever stay in a dungeon," I muttered.

"T-That's, r-right, so- so,  if, if you let me, me go, I'll- pretend-"

I drew the sword that was hanging from my belt. Before he could even scream, I sliced the air in front of him, cutting a few of the hairs of his fringe.

"I want every supplier, distributor and buyer that you know of. I want a full rundown of your business, and the people connected to it. I want everything you know."

He squealed out. "It hurts!" he cried, the moment he tried to move and the glass shards on his back dug into him.

I put the cold tip of the sword against his forehead. "You may choose whether to be useful or dead."

I don't think I like using deadly force to get what I want, at least, not as much as more productive, less destructive means.

But I'll do what I must, for the good of my land, of my family and of my people.

"I'll talk, I'll talk! I'll tell you everything! Just please, have mercy!"

The moment he was no longer useful, or we caught him in a lie, he'd be disposed of. Scum like this is untrustworthy. 

"Arnaldo, have some of your people bring this thing to a secure location, have his wounds seen to. If Amalia can handle it that's great, but it's not a priority, just keep his wounds clean, he won't be needing to move around much," I said. "Be careful and subtle. Make sure to clean up this mess, too."

He grinned. "Sure thing, boss," he said. "What about me and the lads' reward?"

I looked over my shoulder at him. In this filthy, damp and dark drug lab, I felt like I could never even think about anything like that. Guess that's human tenacity for you, always ready and open for lewdness at all times. "I think we can work something out we're all going to enjoy."

"Hells yeah," he agreed. "Alright lads, you heard the boss, if you want a crack at that crack, you better start working, double time!"

"Aye!!"

I grinned to myself. 

Soon. Not tomorrow, not next week, maybe not even next month.

But soon... soon I would be poised to finally make a major move. Cast off the trappings of an idiot, and finally move into the light.

But until then... until then, I would continue to act in the shadows, until the day my Kingdom needed me to step into the light.