[Book 1 Completed] Industrial Mage: Modernizing a Magical World [Kingdom Building LitRPG]
B2 | Chapter 58 – Face Slapping

Theodore stepped out of his private chamber.

He was enraged by the scene in front of him. A hunter's arm was twisted at an angle that suggested fractured bones as he lay slumped against the ground, surrounded by concerned colleagues. Blood gathered in a dark pool under him. Alternating between fear and rage, they stole glances at a grinning idiot in pompous attire, whose hand was clamped around a female employee's wrist.

"Girl, do you know who I am? I'm William Karstein; you would do well to stop resisting this instant."

The pompous bastard had that certain cockiness that came from never having to face consequences. Theodore knew that arrogance because the original Theodore had been like that. The girl attempted to break away as he pulled her, tears streaking her face. The others pressed themselves against the walls like they were trying to disappear, praying they wouldn't draw his lustful gaze.

Theodore released a carefully controlled mana burst and he made sure it was directed toward the intended target and would not harm bystanders. One moment the room was filled with sounds of threats and quiet sobs. The next, the air itself seemed to thicken as it became saturated with the amount of mana he was releasing. Everyone froze.

Every person in the room felt it: the primal part of their brain, the instinct that had kept their ancestors alive, suddenly screamed a desperate warning. Theodore sighed as some of the weaker-willed customers really fled through the damaged front door, falling over one another as they went. Even though this was very targeted, it didn't seem like these regular people could take it. He withdrew the mana.

The arrogant man turned, still gripping the girl's wrist, and Theodore got his first good look at the man's face. Handsome, confident, and the type of face that had never seen a fist before.

That was about to change.

"Do you know what I've had to endure? My shoes are ruined! These fu—" William started.

He didn't get to finish.

Theodore crossed the room in a blink. One moment he was standing in the doorway. The next, he was right beside William, one of his hands freeing the girl and the other already striking towards William's face.

The slap landed with a crack that echoed through the hall. His head snapped to the side so forcefully that Theodore was somewhat amazed it didn't come clean off. The impact sent him flying across the room. He crashed into the far wall with a sound like a sack of grain hitting stone. Then, the wooden table he fell down on splintered beneath his body.

Suddenly released, the girl staggered backward, reaching for her wrist where William had held her. Theodore didn't give her attention yet. His eyes were locked on the crumpled form of the young man groaning as he glared back at Theodore with murder in his eyes.

"You dare! Do you even know who I am?! I am—"

"I don't care who you are. You laid hands on my people."

Spitting blood and what appeared to be a tooth, William attempted to get to his feet but immediately fell back down. His flawless features had lost some of their perfection. His left eye was already beginning to swell shut, and his nose was undoubtedly broken.

"You—" William's face turned red with anger. "You have no idea what you've just done. My father is Lord Karstein of the Merchants' Guild. He has armies. He has influence. When he hears about this, you'll—"

Moving forward, Theodore placed a foot on William's chest. Gently, almost casually. William's ribs creaked, and he cried out.

"Your father should have taught you better manners," Theodore said, increasing the pressure just enough to make breathing difficult. Just then, more people came crashing through the door.

Swords drawn, a squad of guards in exquisite armor stormed in, roaring about attacking nobles, committing treason, and hanging. Were they this idiot's men? Theodore frowned. Leading them was a man with intelligent eyes who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Lord Theodore!" the smart man called out. "I'm Verrin. Please, there's been a misunderstanding. Young Master William can be... impetuous. But surely we can resolve this without—"

"Attack him!" William wheezed from under Theodore's foot. "Kill this back-water scum! I'll have his head!"

It appeared that Verrin would prefer to run and throw away his sword rather than fight Theodore. However, the other men were already in motion, their steel gleaming in the light of the bathhouse. The first guard came at him with an overhead strike, putting his whole body behind it. Theodore reached up with his bare hand and caught the blade an inch from his face, absorbing all the kinetic energy to stop the blade from hurting him.

Theodore's fingers wrapped around the steel, and the guard's eyes widened. There was a brief moment where the man tried to pull back, to wrench his sword free.

Then Theodore's grip tightened, and he pulled it off the man.

Using his free hand, he grabbed the guard by the throat, raised him off the ground, and flung him at the second guard. He swung the pommel of the sword in his hand into the helmet of the third guard. With a ringing sound as the pommel struck his helmet, the man dropped like a stone.

The fourth guard tried to thrust at Theodore's side. Theodore caught him by the wrist with his free hand, twisted until the man's scream cut off abruptly as his arm bent backward, and then brought the sword's pommel down on his skull, or helmet in this case. He fell to the ground. When the fifth guard saw what was going on, he attempted to loop back behind him. Theodore backhanded him with the pommel, and the man's jaw made a wet crunching sound as he spun and hit the ground.

The sixth guard attempted to flee after witnessing his comrades being reduced to a moaning mess in roughly three seconds. Almost lazily, Theodore stretched out and caught him by the back of his helmet. As Theodore pulled the man back, his feet lifted off the floor, and he slammed the man face first onto the floor—teeth scattering like a handful of dice.

Through it all, Theodore hadn't moved his right foot. William remained stuck beneath it, breathing harder and harder, his face turning redder by the moment.

Now alone, Verrin kept his sword aloft but refrained from attacking. He glanced at Theodore, who hadn't even broken a sweat, then at the devastation all around him, all the guards down, moaning and bleeding.

Verrin carefully lowered his sword and said, "Lord Theodore. I think... I think we can discuss this reasonably."

Studying the man, Theodore cocked his head. Smart. That's probably the only reason he wasn't decorating the floor with his teeth by now.

"This braindead little shit," Theodore said, grinding his foot into William's chest until the younger man gasped, "came into my establishment, assaulted my customers, and put his hands on my employees. What exactly did you think was going to happen?"

"I... I understand your anger, my lord. But Young Master William is—"

"MY FATHER WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD!" William shrieked from the floor. "HE'LL COME WITH HIS ARMIES, AND HE'LL BURN THIS PLACE TO THE GROUND! HE'LL HAVE YOU FLAYED ALIVE!"

Theodore sighed and shifted his other foot toward William's arm and stomped down hard. William's right arm snapped under his foot with a wet snap. William screamed in breathless agony.

"Your father's armies?" Theodore asked conversationally, as if he hadn't just broken the man's bones. "Please. Bring them. I'll show you what happens when insects like you think they can threaten my people. Your threats mean nothing to me. You should have thought twice before harming my people and causing a ruckus here." He looked up at Verrin, who had gone very pale. "Tell me, do you actually think Lord Karstein sent his son here to start a fight? Or did he send him to collect a debt?"

Verrin swallowed hard. "The... the debt, my lord."

"Smart man." Theodore said sarcastically, reached down, and grabbed William by the front of his expensive shirt, lifting him off the ground with one hand. The younger man's face was a jumble of snot, tears, and blood, and his arm hung at an awkward angle.

"Listen carefully because I'm only going to say this once."

He carelessly tossed William's broken form at Verrin's feet like a sack of garbage. Verrin caught his master awkwardly.

"Take this trash and leave. Tell Lord Karstein that if he wants to discuss the debt, he should come himself. He at least has a brain in his head." Theodore's aura flared, pressing down on both men like a physical weight. William released a strangled sob as it crushed down on him, his remaining good arm clawing at the floor. "But send more boys like this..."

The pressure increased. Verrin's knees hit the ground, and he started gasping for air. William made tiny, broken noises and curled into a fetal posture.

"And I'll kill them without hesitation."

After holding it for a moment longer and observing Verrin's face change from red to purple, Theodore abruptly released the pressure at once.

After taking a desperate breath, Verrin began pulling William in the direction of the entrance. He returned and less carefully hauled out the unconscious guards. When he finished, he returned and faced Theodore. "My lord. For what it's worth... I tried to stop him. I don't know what Lord Karstein was thinking, sending him here."

Theodore studied him for a moment. "Next time, try harder."

Then they were gone, leaving Theodore alone with his people and the ruins of his peaceful evening.

He turned to the girl, who was still standing against the wall, her hand pressed to her wrist. Her skin was already starting to get bruises shaped like fingers. After all, she was just a regular person, and William was still a Rank 2.

"Are you hurt?" He asked in a soft voice now that all the icy rage had been drained from it.

Tears continued to fall from her eyes as she shook her head. "I'm fine. I... I was so scared, my lord. He said he was going to... he said..."

Theodore sighed as he surveyed the room, taking in the blood on the floor, the smashed furniture, and the frightened expressions on the faces of both his staff and clients. He knew the type—he could guess what vile things had been said . "I'm sorry you had to endure that." He raised his voice to address the room: "I apologize for this inconvenience, everyone! I will be posting a Rank 3 guard here as soon as I can, and you will all be given another reservation for free; you can claim it whenever! I truly am sorry this happened!"

The tension in the room seemed to lessen after Theodore's words. His customers and staff members, still recovering from the horror they had witnessed moments ago, were now relieved and appreciative of his prompt thinking and assurance, and he could see it on their expressions.

Two employees were helping the hunter to his feet, using a makeshift sling to support his broken arm. Something like amazement filled his eyes as he gazed up at Theodore.

"My lord," he said. "Thank you. I thought... I thought he was going to kill me."

"He might have. Men like that don't understand that actions have consequences. They've never had to face any. Regardless, it's over now." Theodore looked at the girl. "Come here," he said to her

She hesitated, then stepped forward. Theodore reached out and gently took her injured wrist in his hands.

[Healing Touch].

His hands radiated a warm, gentle glow that stretched like liquid gold across her flesh. The swelling completely rescinded, and the bruises subsided as though they were being removed. Her wrist appeared as though it had never been touched in a matter of seconds.

With disbelieving eyes, the girl gazed down at her unmarked skin. "My lord... how did you...?"

Theodore was already moving toward the hunter. The man's colleagues backed away respectfully as Theodore knelt beside him.

"This might feel strange." He placed his hands on either side of the broken arm.

[Healing Touch].

His palms emitted the same golden light, but it was more intense and brighter this time. With audible clicks and pops, sinew and muscle knitted together as bone moved back into position beneath the skin, causing the hunter to gasp. When the light faded, the arm was perfectly whole and healed completely.

The hunter rotated his shoulder after flexing his fingers in an experimental manner. It was as if the injury never happened.

"I..." the hunter stammered, staring at his restored arm. "My lord, I don't know how to thank you."

Theodore stood. "Don't thank me."

The manager, a man named Henrik, stepped forward hesitantly. "My lord, what about the damages? The door, the wall, the—"

"I'll handle it," Theodore said, waving him off, and then he smiled grimly. "And spread the word. Anyone who causes trouble in my establishment will answer to me personally."

The water was still warm, and he wanted—needed—to soak some more. The rest could wait.

***

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