A trio of healthy boys came from the door behind the old woman, flexing their muscles on their naked bodies. Steamed two-meter bodies sweated profusely, which did not prevent them from looking intimidating. One by one, the boys rolled their shoulders and flexed their fists in a show of strength.

"Before we start." Cyril said, holding up his hand. "You'd rather call off your dogs, Lady Oink. I barely control myself during a fight. I don't wanna spill anyone's blood."

Lady Oink gave him a scornful look.

"You look like a brat, and I smell a good wizard a mile away. What will you do? Are you going to throw those jugs at us?" The old woman laughed. "Stop lying, give up, and let's rumple my tender buttocks."

"I'm sorry, miss Jackson, I'm all silence." He said, spreading his hands in a familiar gesture. "Come on, guys!"

The old woman nodded, shaking her three chins, and the boys slapped their bare feet on the wet marble slabs. In the blink of an eye, all three of them were directly in front of Cyril. Two went around on either side, and the third struck a swift blow in his gut.

"Ahhh! My hand!" The big man cried, falling on the floor.

"I asked you to call 'em off." Cyril said, making a sad face.

Two goons on the left and right grabbed him by his arms, trying to twist Cyril. Cyril let go of control and let himself watch as his body knocked out two of the thugs.

Wow, I didn't kill them! He was surprised.

Two men lay unconscious in a corner to the left.

Or did I?

Both had obviously stopped breathing. One of them had a trickle of blood coming out of his ear. The second lay with an abnormally twisted neck. A third, with a broken arm, crawled to the source, hoping to cool the pain. Lady Oink stared at him, her eyes wide. In the gaze of the depraved guide, lust played again.

"The thing is, I really need a water elemental." Cyril said, approaching the two women. "And I know how to attract one of them. Am I right, beauty?'

He spoke to the girl, but the old woman spoke instead.

"Who are you?"

The fat old woman's voice was full of hidden fear. He had just taken down her personal guard, the kingdom's elite warriors, and hadn't even batted an eye. When Lady Oink saw him at first, she noticed that he was covered in blood, but she thought he was a butcher from the factory. People from there often came to this bathhouse. Then the questions and demeanor amused her so much that Lady Oink stopped paying attention to the blood. But now, she realized that he wasn't a farm butcher, and the blood might not have been bovine.

"I'm Kirill. Here, my name is Cyril." He shrugged his shoulders. "And you can help me attract an elemental."

"What are you talking about?" The old woman did not understand.

"You didn't come naked, did you? So you left your stuff in a trunk. So, gimme a hand."

He waved a straight hand before the old woman could reply. A moment later, fat and blood gushed from the empty shoulder, and Cyril held the old woman's fat hand in his own.

"Beauty, will you show me her trunk?" He turned to the girl.

She looked at him with a mixture of fear, disgust, curiosity, and passion. At first, she wanted to seduce him, because she thought he was a member of a powerful clan. Then she found out that she had been deceived. But when he took down the personal guard of Lady Oink, the girl felt desire of him again. There was something about him that attracted her, and she didn't try to figure out what it was. Could it be the fire in his eyes? She just decided to follow her heart.

"If I help you, I can't go back." She whispered.

The old woman screamed frantically, trying to hold back the flow of blood, but Cyril and the guide paid no attention to her.

"I don't think that's a problem." Cyril said. "Just tell me your name."

"It's Clara."

"Nice to meet you, Clara. My name is Cyril, and I have no idea how I came to be in this world."

Clara smiled sweetly, sweating, and looked at Lady Oink.

"When she dies, the elemental will consume her body, mistaking it for impurity. They'll be looking for her and they'll start asking me questions."

"You weren't here, because it's not your job to fill the baths, is it?" Cyril smiled smugly. "You were standing in the reception area, waiting for your guests. A stranger came with a basket of herbs, seduced you, and took you with him. Oh, fuck."

Suddenly, Cyril realized that they had a two-meter witness under their feet. The guy with the broken arm sat in the corner, holding his hand out to the stream of water, and listened intently. Gritting his teeth, he hoped to remain unnoticed. Like the women, he had seen what Cyril had done to his companions.

"I'm sorry, mate, I'm gonna have to kill you." Cyril said in frustration. "I just wanted to wash up and collect information, but your fat shitty lady ruined everything."

"I won't say anything." The big man muttered. "I didn't see anything. I wasn't here."

"Oh, don't say bullshit." Cyril said with a grimace.

He straightened his hand, focused his attention on it, and leaned forward, pulling his hand away. The big man started to say something else, but Cyril quickly drove his hand into his mouth, and his fingers popped out from the back of the man's head. He took his hand out and hastened to wash the blood and bits of brain from his fingers.

"Old shit, are you still alive?" He turned to the fat woman.

Lady Oink was weakly moaning, panting, as the stain of blood around her grew wider. Cyril looked at the corner where the two fighters lay. As with the bathroom, a cloud of steam rose above them, taking in the dead bodies. The only difference was that the cloud had turned brown-red instead of grayish.

"The others will disappear as well." Clara said. "Let's go."