Daniel instinctively tried to use his Death energy to slow his fall—maybe fly, maybe float, something—but the moment he willed it, the energy sputtered uselessly.
Right.
No practice.
No control.
Fantastic timing.
He quickly switched plans and wrapped himself in a protective barrier. Between his steel-like body and the Death energy shielding, the impact wouldn't hurt him in the slightest.
Anyone he landed on, however…
Well, they would be reduced to human paste.
Not much he could do for that hypothetical unlucky soul.
But fortunately—or unfortunately—he didn't hit a person.
He hit a building.
Daniel crashed straight through the roof with a deafening CRASH. Bricks and plaster exploding outward as he punched through the upper floor and slammed into the level below, sending tiles, dust, and splintered debris erupting around him.
So much for subtle entry.
He groaned, opening his eyes only to realize his face was practically kissing the floorboards.
Daniel pushed himself up, brushing dust and fragments of wood from his clothes. Once he got his balance, he looked around—and froze.
Wherever he'd landed, it definitely wasn't some abandoned shack. The room looked refined: polished floor tiles, a large silver-framed mirror, neatly arranged bottles that smelled like oils or soaps.
A luxury bathhouse… or at least a very fancy bathroom.
Then—
"AHHHHHHHH!"
The high-pitched scream echoed off the walls, and a cold premonition shot down Daniel's spine. Slowly—very slowly—he turned his head.
There, in the large bathtub, was a woman with absolutely no clothes—
and for one disastrous heartbeat, Daniel's brain simply shut down.
Steam curled around her like a thin veil, doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact she was… extremely well-shaped.
Her skin glowed under the warm water, droplets sliding down her shoulders, making everything look like the kind of scene that would get a man killed immediately.
Well… she looks beautiful, Daniel thought helplessly.
Then reality hit.
He raised a hand weakly, already defeated.
"…Wrong landing."
The woman's face looked strangely familiar, as if he'd seen her somewhere before—but Daniel didn't have time to think about that.
Because the very next second, she started grabbing anything within reach and hurling it at him.
"Pervert! Scoundrel! GET OUT!"
A wooden bottle flew past his ear.
A wooden bath brush bounced off his shoulder.
A bar of soap smacked him in the forehead.
Before Daniel could even process any of it, the bathroom doors were slammed open.
Two maids rushed in, breathless. "Milady, what happ—"
They froze the moment they spotted Daniel standing there, one arm half-raised in a pathetic attempt at greeting.
"Uh… hi."
Both maids inhaled sharply, then screamed in unison—
"GUARDS! GUARDS!!"
His eyes widened.
Nope.
Absolutely not dealing with that.
He spun around, spotted a window, and dove through it without hesitation.
He was not getting arrested for accidental bath-time teleportation.
Daniel hit the ground hard as he tumbled out of the window, rolling across the dirt until he came to a stop. He barely had time to brush himself off before he heard shouting behind him.
"Intruder! Stop him!"
Great. Guards. Exactly what he needed after crashing through a woman's bathroom.
He pushed himself to his feet—and immediately spotted two guards standing a short distance away on patrol.
Their eyes locked onto him instantly.
One of them lifted a whistle to his lips.
FWEEEEET!
The piercing sound echoed through the street.
"There he is!" the second guard shouted, pointing straight at Daniel.
"Perfect. Just perfect."
And then the chase truly exploded through the streets of Port Royal.
Daniel tore through the marketplace, soldiers hot on his heels, boots slamming against the cobblestone as musket fire cracked behind him. Merchants dove out of the way, women screamed, and sailors cursed as he shoved past them.
A musket ball zipped past his cheek and shattered a hanging lantern.
"STOP RIGHT THERE!"
"FIRE AGAIN!"
"DON'T LET HIM ESCAPE!"
He ducked instinctively as another shot blew apart a barrel two inches from his head, splattering him with rum.
He spat. "Seriously?! Where the hell did I land?! Who shoots people in the middle of a town square?!"
More gunshots answered him immediately.
Yep. That tracked.
He sprinted past a fish stall, knocking over baskets of fresh catch. A furious vendor threw a knife at him out of reflex.
"Watch where you're going, ya blasted—!"
"Sorry!" Daniel shouted, jumping over a crate of crabs.
The soldiers were relentless, reloading as they ran.
Daniel cut through a narrow alley, hoping to lose them, but two more soldiers appeared at the other end.
"There he is! BLOCK THE WAY!"
"Are you kidding me?!" Daniel groaned and skidded to a stop.
He turned around.
The original squad burst into the alley behind him.
So that meant he was surrounded.
"Raise arms!"
"Ready muskets!"
"On my command!"
All the muskets clicked into place as the soldiers aimed at him.
Daniel raised both hands politely. "This is all one big misunderstanding, so… can't we just ignore it?"
Judging by the glares tightening across their faces, the soldiers absolutely did not like that idea.
"Okay. You brought this on yourselves."
His eyes shifted—turning pitch black, swallowing every trace of color.
A wave of cold, oppressive gloom burst outward, filling the alley like a living shadow. The temperature plummeted instantly, frost creeping along the stone, and every soldier felt something brush against their spine.
In their terror-clouded minds, they saw shapes—reapers, scythes, skeletal hands reaching for them—phantom images born from Daniel's Death Aura.
One by one, their bodies collapsed. Soldiers dropped their muskets and fell to the ground, eyes rolled back, mouths frothing as they twitched uncontrollably. Some passed out instantly. Others spasmed once and went still.
In less than three seconds, the entire squad was down.
Daniel blinked, the darkness fading from his eyes.
"Huh. Death Aura really is good."
*****
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