It was the end of the day when Natsu finally reached a city after a week crossing the desert.
The city was called Karsel, an outpost built on the edge of the desert, where the sand began to give way to streets of ancient stone and reinforced masonry buildings. Unlike the central cities of Fiore, Karsel lacked the welcoming charm of Magnolia or the refined grandeur of Crocus. Its location on the fringes of the desert made it considerably poorer than most cities in the kingdom, marked more by the hardships of ordinary people due to shortages of supplies and water than by splendor.
Low walls surrounded part of the city, more to keep out animals and raiders than for military purposes. Simple watchtowers rose at strategic points, manned by mercenary guards rather than official soldiers. The houses were wide, with flat roofs and thick walls, designed to withstand the extreme daytime heat and the biting cold of the night. Magical lanterns began to light up gradually, spreading an amber glow across the main streets.
When he entered the city, his sharp sense of smell caught a mixture of scents—spices, heated metal, and food being prepared. Merchants shouted prices in front of shops open late, travelers unloaded goods, and mercenaries of all kinds moved about without drawing attention. It was the kind of place where no one asked too many questions, as long as you paid your bills and looked after your own life—at least, that was the feeling he got when he observed the place and its people more closely.
Leaving that aside, Natsu walked calmly toward the center of the city. Since night was already approaching, he decided he would spend the night at some inn and have his meal at a local tavern. Although he could materialize a place to sleep and food with his own powers, he wanted to enjoy the delicacies of this world.
The only problem was that his clothes stood out a bit from the local standard. He wore a modern dark-toned jacket, fitted to the body, made of a resistant yet flexible fabric. Underneath, a plain light shirt with no symbols. The black sweatpants, designed for combat and travel, contrasted with the thick-soled boots—too clean for someone who had just come from the desert. The white scarf remained around his neck, as always, swaying gently in the late-afternoon breeze.
A few glances fell on him.
Even so, no one approached him. Karsel was accustomed to the passage of "strange figures."
He moved through several streets carefully, observing the architecture while memorizing escape routes, narrow alleys, and open areas—everything recorded with precision thanks to his photographic memory. At one specific point in the city, he discreetly left a "Mark" of his [Flying Thunder God Technique], ensuring he could teleport back to Karsel whenever necessary.
In the end, that mental map wasn't born of paranoia, but of convenience. He figured that if he ever needed to teleport to the city in the future or simply pass through again, he would already have the entire layout of Karsel perfectly etched in his mind.
When he reached the center of the city, that was when he caught the scent. Roasted meat, fresh bread, and something alcoholic—strong enough to stand out in the dry city air.
Natsu turned his face and spotted a two-story building made of dark stone and reinforced wood. A simple sign swayed above the entrance, its letters worn by time: Red Sand
A tavern.
Without thinking much, he pushed the door and walked in.
The interior was spacious, lit by torches and magical crystals fixed to the walls. Sturdy tables occupied almost all the space—some full, others empty. Merchants, adventurers, mercenaries, and ordinary travelers talked loudly, laughed, drank. The sound of cutlery, glasses, and voices blended into a comfortable chaos.
The warmth was pleasant.
Natsu walked to a table in a corner and sat down calmly. He didn't have to wait long before a waitress approached. She was young, brown hair tied back practically, apron clean despite the heavy traffic.
"Welcome, sir. What would you like?" she asked, already holding a notepad.
He gave a small smile.
"Something to fill the stomach and something to drink. What's your best?"
She glanced at the scarf for a second, then nodded.
"Roasted meat with frontier spice sauce. And house strong ale. Good?"
"Perfect."
She jotted it down quickly and walked away.
A short while later, the food arrived.
A large plate—well-done, juicy meat covered in a dark, aromatic sauce. Beside it, rustic bread still warm. The mug of ale gave off a strong, almost aggressive smell.
He didn't waste time.
He ate calmly but with clear appetite. The beer went down burning his throat, drawing a satisfied sigh from him. The noise around him faded into a distant background as he focused on the simple moment.
After days of brutal training, this was almost a luxury.
He finished the meal unhurriedly, drinking the last sip of beer as he leaned back in the chair.
He stayed like that for a few seconds, observing the movement around him, until he raised his hand slightly to get attention.
The waitress noticed quickly and approached again, the same notepad still held between her fingers.
"Need anything else, sir?"
"Just the bill…"
"It came to 100 Jewels, sir…" The waitress nodded and stated the amount.
Natsu reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of Jewels, placing it on the table naturally. That immediately caught her attention even before he said anything. There was enough to cover the meal he had eaten—and clearly more than what would be considered a normal tip.
"I'm looking for a place to sleep tonight. Any decent inn around here?" He pushed the wad of Jewels a little farther forward. "No need to worry about the price. Your information in exchange for this small tip—deal?"
The girl's eyes widened for an instant, genuine surprise crossing her face before she regained her composure. An excited smile appeared almost immediately.
"Yes! Ah… in that case…" She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a valuable secret. "The best is Amber Sun Inn. It's near the north exit of the city…"
She explained the way carefully, describing streets, landmarks, and even a small stone arch that marked the entrance to the quieter part of the city. She spoke quickly, enthusiastic, clearly pleased by both the tip and the chance to help.
Natsu listened attentively, recording every detail effortlessly. When she finished, he nodded once.
"Got it. Thank you."
"Good night, sir." She collected the coins, still smiling. "And… enjoy Karsel."
He stood up from the table and turned toward the exit.
That was when he noticed.
At one of the tables closest to the door, some men had gone silent. Half-full glasses lay forgotten on the wood. Attentive gazes followed him—lingering too long to be casual.
Natsu walked past them without changing his pace.
When he pushed the door and stepped out into the street lit by magical lanterns, he felt the night air touch his face. Behind him, the tavern's buzz continued as if nothing had happened.
A discreet smile appeared on his lips.
.
.
.
.
.
The table near the door remained silent for a few seconds after the boy with the white scarf left the tavern.
Four men occupied that space. They didn't draw attention at first glance—exactly as intended.
The first to break the silence was the tallest man, with a thin beard and narrow eyes, resting his elbow on the table.
"You all saw that, right?"
The second, a man with dark hair tied in a low ponytail, let out a short laugh, still watching the door through which Natsu had left.
"It's been a while since I saw someone pull out such a fat wad of Jewels."
The third spun his mug slowly between his fingers, eyes gleaming with interest.
"And he threw a tip like it was nothing. Lone traveler, weird clothes, clean scarf after crossing the desert." He clicked his tongue. "That kid's loaded! Probably some rich family's runaway son…"
The last one, shorter and broader, scratched his chin, suspicious.
"Yeah… and that could be trouble."
The thin-bearded man let out a low laugh.
"Trouble? Nah—if he's some runaway heir from a rich family, he's an easy target. No guards, nothing." He tilted his head. "Just a rebellious pink-haired brat thinking Karsel is like those pretty Fiore cities."
The comment drew smirks.
They knew how to spot easy marks. People tired from travel, relaxed after a hot meal, especially when traveling alone. And the most important detail was that the kid clearly didn't know the city well enough to realize he was being watched.
The ponytail man downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.
"If he's heading to the north exit, better grab him before he leaves the busy streets."
"Exactly." The leader stood up, tossing a few Jewels onto the table without even counting. "No noise. Just surround him, scare him, take what he's got. If he resists, we handle it."
The others nodded.
One by one, they got up, leaving the tavern at short intervals so as not to draw attention.
After they left the tavern, they immediately put their plan into action.
Around the corner, the pink-haired boy walked calmly toward the north of the city, the white scarf swaying lightly in the night breeze.
The men exchanged quick glances and began to follow him.
They kept their distance at first, blending in with the few remaining passersby in the central area. As they advanced, the crowd thinned. Houses grew farther apart, streets narrower, and the sound of the city began to fade, replaced by the dry silence of the nearby desert.
"Too easy…" one of them muttered with a crooked smile.
The boy turned another corner, entering a longer, poorly lit street clearly leading toward the northern part of Karsel.
It was the perfect setting.
Without hurrying too much or making unnecessary noise, the four men adjusted their pace and followed behind him, convinced that tonight would bring them an unexpected profit.
.
.
.
.
.
Natsu's smile widened almost imperceptibly as he turned into the nearest alley.
It was a narrow stretch, flanked by tall walls of ancient stone, where the light from the main street's lanterns barely reached. The illumination there was uneven, fragmented, casting long shadows across the ground covered in accumulated sand and dust. The sound of the city practically vanished at that point, muffled by distance and dense buildings.
He deliberately slowed his pace.
With [Universal Sense + Kenbunshoku Haki], it was nearly impossible to catch him off guard—so the moment those men left the tavern and started following him, he already knew about them. He could have dealt with it in dozens of different ways. He could have vanished into the city using his speed, confusing them with the mental map he had made of Karsel since arriving, or simply teleported to another spot. None of it would have required real effort.
But that wasn't the point.
Until now, his few fights had always ended with enemies defeated, unconscious, incapacitated, or driven off. He had never killed anyone…
He had never crossed that final line.
And he knew the world wouldn't allow that hesitation forever.
Eventually, someone would try to kill him. And when that moment came, deciding to do the same in a fraction of a second would mean living or dying. He couldn't afford to freeze in that instant.
That was why he was here.
Since they were bandits, he felt no conflict about considering killing them. In his previous life, he carried a simple, straightforward conviction: a good bandit was a dead bandit. So he wouldn't hesitate to cross that line if it meant eliminating this kind of human scum.
Natsu advanced to the end of the alley and stopped. He took a deep breath, feeling the dry air fill his lungs, then spoke without turning, his voice far too calm for the situation.
"I thought you guys would be more discreet."
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then footsteps echoed behind him.
Four presences approached, slowly spreading across the entrance of the alley, blocking the exit. One of them clicked his tongue, clearly irritated.
"Shit… he noticed."
Another laughed loudly, the sound echoing unpleasantly between the stone walls.
"Relax. He's just a rich kid—no one to scare…"
They advanced a few more steps, now fully visible. Short weapons appeared in experienced hands—blades worn from frequent use. The thin-bearded man spoke first, voice dripping with mockery.
"Listen, kid. Turn around slowly and hand over everything you've got. Cooperate and you walk away."
The shortest one spat on the ground, laughing.
"That fancy scarf must be worth something too."
Natsu finally turned.
The smile was still there, but something had changed in it now. It wasn't provocation or contempt. It was focus. His eyes scanned each of them coldly—measuring distance, posture, intent. They were all far too confident. None of them realized how irreversible a mistake they had already made by entering that alley.
"You picked the wrong person for this…" he said in a low tone.
The ponytail man burst out laughing.
"Look at that—he thinks he's somebody."
Another added, taunting.
"Last chance, kid. Don't make us mad."
Natsu didn't respond to the taunts.
He simply raised his right hand, extending his index and middle fingers toward the four men. The gesture was simple, almost casual, completely at odds with the tension in the air. To an outside observer, it might have looked like a childish bluff.
The bandits kept laughing for one second longer than they should have.
It was in that interval that he murmured, low enough not to sound like a warning, yet clear enough to be heard.
"Higan…"
The heat appeared instantly.
The tips of his fingers ignited in dense, extremely compressed fire, vibrating with silent, lethal intensity. Before any of them could take another step forward—before their brains could even process the real danger—those fire bullets fired.
Four projectiles of compressed flame crossed the air in near-simultaneous sequence.
There was no flashy explosion, no exaggerated flash. Just precise impacts—each one striking exactly the center of each man's forehead.
The heat released was so absolute that it left no room for pain, scream, or reaction.
In less than a second, the bodies lost form. Flesh, bones, clothes, and weapons were reduced to fine ashes that scattered into the dry alley air, carried away by the night breeze like ordinary dust.
The ground was left clean—no visible marks, no traces to betray what had just happened.
Silence returned.
Natsu kept his hand raised for one moment longer, fingers still wrapped in a residual glow of heat, before slowly letting them fall to his sides. The flames extinguished as if they had never existed.
He observed the empty space in front of him calmly.
There was no satisfaction, no pleasure. Nor regret. Just a neutral, heavy feeling—the cold recognition that he had taken a life for the first time.
Killing someone was different from simply defeating an opponent, as his predecessor used to do.
Even so, he felt indifferent about it. Those men had chosen that path. They had clear intent to harm, rob, and possibly kill. Perhaps he would feel something different if he had taken an innocent life—something he would never do.
Natsu took a deep breath and turned his back on the alley. His footsteps echoed softly as he returned to the main street, the white scarf swaying in the wind as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
The night in Karsel moved on, indifferent.
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