The bamboo hat tilted forward, rain dripping from its edge.
Two stubby panda ears poking out beneath.
A tiny round body, clutching a bamboo rod like a sword.
A single leaf trembling between small lips.
And at his back, a cape—red, fluttering like a war banner—stamped with a bold panda paw.
Lightning split a tree outside, illuminating him in an ominous glow.
There he stood.
The Panda Samurai.
The assassins rushed.
The panda leapt first, bamboo spinning—thwack! crack! thunk!—three assassins fell.
Another lunged; the panda stomped the cradle, sending it rolling forward, smashing into the man's knees.
Steel met bamboo with sparks. The cape flared, the panda tumbled, fists smacking masks.
One by one, the assassins crumpled.
Until only one remained.
He was taller, broader, crimson lining his mask. His aura pressed heavier than the storm itself. He was called Shura.
With deliberate calm, he drew his curved blade.
Shura: "…So this is the 'demon'? A child in fur. Pathetic."
I muttered under my breath, "That's… me?"
The panda's leaf fell. His bamboo gleamed in the lightning.
The duel began.
Steel hissed, bamboo cracked, sparks leapt. Shadows and storm collided as giant and baby clashed.
The panda rolled, smacked, leapt, fists and bamboo colliding with blade and mask.
Then—he soared.
Cape fluttering, bamboo leveled like a lance.
Time slowed, the storm's roar falling silent.
Shura thought he dodged it . But when he turned his head towards the child , he froze.
Because there he was . A panda showing his gleaming red eyes for the first time.
And his focus wasn't on Shura's sword but somewhere else, somewhere forbidden.
And then it came, an attack from the bamboo so fast that Shura didn't even get the chance to save his dignity. Only a sound was heard.
Thwunk!
The assassin's eyes bulged. His sword clattered to the ground.
Shura: "…Bamboo… in my… ass…?"
He collapsed forward, twitching in defeat.
The panda stood victorious, cape fluttering, bamboo raised like a divine relic.
[ …Pffft—HAHAHAHAHA!! My host! My dear, adorable host! A baby panda in a cape defeating assassins and ending with bamboo in the ass?! Truly, the finest imagination I've ever witnessed! ]
I pointed at her furiously.
"Stop! Enough already! Quit imagining that nonsense!"
Nyxara clutched her stomach, still cackling.
[ Nonsense? Oh no, no, no. You gave me the seed—I simply watered it into greatness. ]
I muttered darkly, "Enhanced… you call that enhanced?!"
[ Of course! This masterpiece is eternal now. ]
I groaned, covering my face.
"Delete it. Right now."
Nyxara leaned close, eyes sparkling.
[ But just imagine, host—you, cape fluttering, assassins trembling, the Bamboo Strike of Destiny landing true… ]
The image surged into my mind against my will: myself in a panda suit, cape blazing in the storm, assassins scattering while one unfortunate soul howled with bamboo sticking out of his rear.
I shook my head violently.
"No—no! There will be no imaginations! And stop saying 'just imagine'!"
Nyxara's laughter rang out like cruel bells, echoing in my ears.
......….
All the while, I continued to chew on the green bamboo stick, half-listening to Nyxara's teasing while the maid kept giving me that unnerving stare. Honestly, it felt less like she was looking at a baby and more like she was studying an exotic beast at an auction.
Having no choice, I resigned myself to fate. Assassins would come tonight, yes. But as the evening deepened into shades of velvet and violet, my eyes landed on a clock upon the wall.
8:15 p.m.
Not bad. I hadn't lost my sense of time yet. A true warrior, even in diapers, must know the hour of battle.
Yet as I gnawed on the bamboo stick, a darker truth revealed itself. My stomach rumbled pitifully. That's when it struck me.
I hadn't eaten since morning.
I froze, then narrowed my crimson eyes with grim determination.
No. This could not stand.
Assassins or not, a warrior cannot fight on an empty stomach. That would be a crime against both logic and dignity. Even legendary heroes didn't march to battle hungry!
And thus, a plan was born.
"Yes…" I thought, my tiny hands gripping the bamboo like a sword. "Before the assassins strike, I shall embark on the most dangerous quest of all. The raid… on the kitchen."
I could almost hear a dramatic drumroll in the background as I envisioned the operation. Sneaking past guards, crawling through shadowed halls, facing the terrifying monster known as the Head Chef…
Nyxara's laughter interrupted my glorious mental image.
[Fufufu~ Oh, Host! A newborn, plotting a kitchen raid as if it were a dungeon crawl. Truly, you are the hero of stomachs everywhere.]
"Don't laugh!" I snapped in my mind. "This is survival. Imagine me meeting assassins while fainting from hunger! I'd die before the plot even thickened."
[Hehehe~ Host, you'd die of indigestion before assassins if you raid the kitchen now.]
I ignored her mocking bells of laughter and puffed my cheeks in determination. Yes, tonight, the assassins might aim for my life. But first—first, I would secure my rations.
"Food first. Assassins later. This is the only true path to victory."