Hisoka left the inn adorned with a backpack and chest rig, carrying a rifle. After contemplating for some time he decided that walking around with his gear would be no different than an adventurer walking around in armor with a sword. His destination was clear. After following the slave carriages he had discovered where they were selling the slaves from. He had chosen this inn for its proximity to the slave traders.

He walked about a block to make it to the door of the slave trader. He ran his hand through his equipment one last time, mags, check, rifle loaded, check, knife, check. After confirming his combat load was good for the umpteenth time, he steeled his emotions, willed the effect of complete clarity given by the skill to take hold. He felt his face stiffen, felt any semblance of compassion flow to the deepest depths of his conscious as the skill rooted out unnecessary feelings and replaced it with unwavering resolve, as well as flooding his neurons with combat information, flushing artificial muscle memory through his being, under full effect of the skill, it was as if he was a soldier for life. He reached for the door and slowly turned the handle, before gently pushing it in.

As he entered the room he was greeted by people mulling about to buy slaves, examining merchandise, guards handling transactions, guards watching doors, a receptionist, and doorways leading deeper into the complex. Some of the people there recognized him from his scuffle that morning, and paled as they saw him raise his weapon. He wasn't here for these despite that bought slaves, no, he was here for the slave takers.

The guards seem to have taken notice something was amiss, and a couple of them tried shouting at Hisoka. He couldn't hear them of course, as the skill had almost nullified his hearing to protect his ears from the harsh noise of a modern firearm. Upon seeing he was nonresponsive, the guards drew their weapons. Hisoka's enhanced combat instincts immediately took over. He watched almost as an observer as his body practically moved on its own, moving the rifle into position, aligning the sights, before embracing the cold steel of the trigger as the proper amount of pressure was applied. He vaguely felt the rifle kick into his shoulder, but thanks to his ridiculous ability, he barely noticed it. He observed as fire spit from the muzzle, and where guards stood pink mist took their place. He watched the guards fall down, as in his mind almost robotically he ticked off his ammunition count with each squeeze of the trigger.

[25, 24, 23...] he continued counting as the last guard fell to the floor. The non-combatants in the room rushed to escape this hellish scene, and he merely let them pass as he continued to methodically move through the area. He made his way to one of the doors, which he kicked in after buttering it up a bit. He was greeted with multiple guards trying to make their way towards him. With the high amount of adrenaline and the amazing effects of his skill, they were barely moving in his eyes. He brought the rifle to bear, before allocating 2 rounds per person. Within seconds the 4 armed guards were whithering on the floor.

[18, 17...] he continued to robotically count in his mind.

He felt nothing after killing the men, well, that's not true, after all, he felt the impact of the buttstock being propelled into his shoulder by the recoil, and he also felt the tension he put on the trigger slacken between shots. He moved through and cleaned the complex like a soldier doing it for the 1000th time.

He made it to a group of office doors and went inside the first. There was an accountant huddled in the corner. Deeming the person a non-combatant and not a person worth a bullet, he merely gestured towards the door. The accountant meekly got up before scurrying out the door. Hisoka grabbed a few pouches of coins before he left to repeat the process. He didn't care about these stupid office workers, as they merely were in it for the pay. Not that it was any less despicable, but they would have to face retribution from someone other than himself.

After clearing each office, and repossessing any valuables, Hisoka opened the door to the next area in the complex. Unfortunately for the occupants, it was a barracks full of guards that were in the middle of mobilizing. For Hisoka, it was just more targets.

[6, 5, 4...] He continued to count down as the guards continued to litter the floor. Upon going empty he took the magazine and replaced it with a fresh one, before dropping it in the slot of the mag he had just taken.

At the end of the barracks were three men that he recognized, they were some of the guards he had seen inhumanely treating the slaves. Hisoka raised his eyebrow at this luck and then mowed them each down. One of the men was still alive when he made his way to the other end of the room, so Hisoka drew the curved blade from its sheath and plunged it into the man's stomach, before giving a rough twist. At this point, the man was certain to perish.

From the barracks was a door leading straight to the holding area. He opened the door, and a guard rushed to meet him. Hisoka parried the man's sword with the rifle, before plunging the knife into the man's throat and ripping it back out. The guard fell down gurgling on his own blood, and Hisoka stepped on his throat to silence him.

The guards in this room were no better than the last. Hisoka simply aimed, applied pressure to the trigger, and was given a kick in the shoulder as the rifle recoiled. The room was clean, and there was nothing left in his way.

He reached down and grabbed the keyring off of one of the higher-ranked guards, and was about to go about freeing the slaves. The effect of his skill was wearing off as there were no combatants left in the field.

Suddenly, he heard a metallic clank, like a safe being opened. Hisoka slotted a fresh mag in the rifle just to be sure and moved to investigate the source of the sound. There was a back-office that he would've likely missed if it weren't for the greedy man inside trying to take his money and run. Hisoka knocked on the door mockingly, before swinging it open. Inside was a plump man in a suit, who was currently rooting through a safe, loading coins into something that resembled the bag of holding the guild clerk had told him about. The man saw Hisoka and his face went pale.

Out of combat mode, and completely aware of his actions, Hisoka took it upon himself to deliver that sweet retribution he had been looking for. As the man cowered and begged for his life, offering Hisoka slaves or money, Hisoka shot him in the upper calf on both of the man's legs. The man screamed in agony, leading Hisoka to think of the poor slaves who had similar reactions to being kicked and shoved into the building. Hisoka proceeded to level the rifle and squeeze off two shots into the man's shoulders, feeling cold rage within his soul.

Unlike when the skill took effect leading to an enhanced combat like mode, He felt every emotion course through him as he delivered punishment to the man. He loosely held the rifle and grabbed the bag the man was holding. He tried putting the rifle n the bag, and sure enough, it sunk into the bottomless bag. Hisoka clipped the bag to his waist and withdrew his knife from its sheeth. It was still covered in blood after executing the guard who got the jump on him. Hisoka approached the man, before crouching down to look the man in the eyes. He saw the terrified pained expression in this man's eyes and found it a fitting look for such a bastard.

Donning his cold expressionless face, Hisoka punched the knife into the man's stomach, never breaking eye contact, before twisting a full 180, and withdrawing it. Hisoka wiped the blood on the man's suit from the blade before re-sheathing it, before setting to work freeing the slaves. When he had finished unlocking the cages and shackles, he handed the slaves the pouches of coins from the accountant offices. He wasn't sure what they would do from here, but with at least some money to go off of it would be far easier for them to start off again.

He finally made it to the cage in the back of the room, where a familiar grey-haired girl with fox ears and a tail lay in a heap. She was covered in bruises and in an all-around rough shape.

He quickly entered the cell to ensure she was still breathing, upon confirming she was, in fact, alive he breathed a sigh of relief. after an examination, she didn't seem to have any major external wounds, but she would still need some attention to some cuts and scrapes. He couldn't leave her like this, and she certainly wouldn't be able to walk out on her own like the other slaves. Hisoka made up his mind and picked her up in a princess carry, grabbing his revolver one-handedly in a precarious manner as well. He swiftly moved towards the exit, where a crowd had gathered. Seeing his hands covered in blood, and noticing it was the same menacing man from earlier, most people backed off. Only a couple of people were persistent in trying to stop him, leaving him to reorient the barrel of the weapon towards them, causing them to cease their tune.

He continued on from there swiftly moving to where he had relocated his vehicle, gently placing her in the back seat. He wasn't quite sure what the proper course of action was, but if nothing else he knew he had to GTFO. With that in mind, he gunned the engine and swiftly rode out of the town.

~~~