The morning after the assassination attempt, Taylor returned to the scene of the crime.
The forest road was a mess. A crater from the bamboo grenade scarred the earth. Trees were splintered. The smell of sulfur still hung in the air like a bad memory.
"My Lady," Luna whispered, clutching a basket of muffins. "Why are we here? The bad men might come back."
"I need shrapnel," Taylor said, crouching down to examine the blast radius. "I need to analyze the fragmentation pattern to improve the next batch. Science requires data."
She picked up a piece of charred bamboo.
*Crunch.*
A twig snapped behind them.
Violet, who had been brooding silently by a tree, instantly drew a dagger she had stolen from the kitchen. Luna held up a muffin as a shield.
Standing in the middle of the road was a man.
He looked rough. He wore a tattered ronin's gi, three belts (but only one sword), and a bandana tied around his arm. He had a scar over his left eye and an expression of profound, existential confusion.
He looked at the crater. He looked at Taylor. He looked at the sun.
"Excuse me," the man rumbled. His voice was deep, like stones grinding together. "Is this the kitchen?"
Taylor blinked. "The... kitchen?"
"Yeah," the man scratched his head. "I woke up in the South. Went to get a glass of water. Took a left turn. Now I'm in a forest. I think I missed the hallway."
[System Analysis]
Name: Ren
Class: Sword Saint (Unemployed)
Directional Sense: -500 (He could get lost in a closet)
Threat Level: Extreme
"You... walked from the South?" Taylor asked. "That's three countries away."
"Is it?" Ren frowned. "Damn. I knew I should have taken the stairs."
He looked at the crater again. His eyes narrowed. He walked over to the blast mark, ignoring Violet's knife. He touched the scorched earth.
"This power..." Ren murmured. "It wasn't magic. It was... force. Pure, explosive force."
He looked at Taylor.
"Did you do this, little girl?"
"It's Lady Taylor," Violet hissed, stepping between them. "And if you touch her, I'll cut your tendons."
Ren ignored Violet completely. He stared at Taylor with an intensity that made her skin prickle—not with fear, but with the weight of his focus. It was the look of a predator recognizing an apex threat.
"I have been wandering for two years," Ren said. "Looking for a Lord worth following. Someone with the ambition to destroy the world... or fix it."
He drew his sword.
It was a rusted blade, chipped and worn. But the moment it left the sheath, the air in the forest grew heavy. The birds stopped singing.
"Show me," Ren said. "Show me your killing intent."
Taylor didn't have killing intent. She had engineering anxiety.
"I don't have a sword," Taylor said, holding up the charred bamboo. "I have chemistry. And I have a very angry sister."
Suddenly, a rustle in the bushes.
A survivor. One of the assassins from last night, burned and limping, lunged out from the undergrowth with a dagger, screaming.
"DIE!"
Taylor flinched. Violet moved to intercept.
But Ren moved first.
He didn't step. He didn't run. He simply *appeared* behind the assassin.
*Click.*
The sound of the sword sheathing.
" One Sword Style: Purgatory Cut"
The assassin fell face-first into the dirt. A clean, non-lethal (but very painful) blow to the back of the head with the hilt.
Ren turned back to Taylor.
"You didn't flinch," Ren noted (she was actually frozen in terror). "You stood your ground. You have the eyes of a Captain."
He dropped to one knee.
"I am Ren. I have no direction. I have no money. I have no interest in women, wine, or politics. I only care about the Sword. If you can lead me... I will cut down anything in your path."
"You... want to join me?" Taylor asked, bewildered. "Just like that?"
"I tried to join the Royal Guard," Ren admitted, looking ashamed. "But I couldn't find the castle. I walked in circles for three weeks. You are here. You are easy to find. I follow you now."
[Ding!]
[New Companion Acquired: Ren (The Lost Sword)]
[Loyalty: 100% (As long as you point him in the right direction)]
"Okay," Taylor said, rubbing her temples. "Ren, you're hired. Your job is to stand guard outside my door and cut anything that isn't me, Luna, or Violet."
"Understood," Ren said. He stood up, turned around, and immediately walked straight into a tree.
"Ow."
***
[The Rumor of the Kicking Cook]
Back at the castle, Taylor was trying to organize her new "Army." She had a Yandere Sister, a Masochistic Maid, and now a Directionally Challenged Samurai.
"We need food," Taylor said, looking at the meager rations on her desk. "If I'm going to build a gunpowder empire, I need calories. And the current chef, Gaston, is afraid of my soap."
"I heard a rumor in the village, My Lady!" Luna chirped, applying a bandage to Ren's forehead (from the tree collision).
"What rumor?"
"There is a wandering chef in the next town," Luna said, her eyes sparkling. "A woman. They say she is... eccentric."
"Eccentric how?"
"She was fired from the Duke's kitchen," Luna gossiped. "Because she kicked a Baron in the face for leaving half a steak on his plate. She hates wasted food."
"She sounds violent," Taylor noted.
"And..." Luna lowered her voice. "They say she is a bit of a... pervert. She only cooks for beautiful women. She chases the tavern girls around with hearts in her eyes. But her soup... they say her soup can make a grown man cry."
Taylor paused.
A chef who fights with her legs? Hates food waste? Loves women?
*Sanji ?*
"Find out where she is," Taylor ordered. "If she can cook, I don't care who she chases. We need protein."
***
[Nightfall]
Taylor sat by her window, looking at the moon. Ren was sleeping in the hallway (or maybe he was lost in the hallway). Violet was under the bed (again).
Taylor held up the handkerchief. **A.**
Alison DiLaurentis.
The woman who acted like a mother but struck like a viper.
"She's quiet today," Taylor whispered. "Too quiet."
She looked at her thigh. The red mark from the garter was fading, but the memory of the explosion wasn't.
She had survived the first attack. But she knew "A" didn't make mistakes twice.
"Ren!" she called out.
"Yes, Captain!" Ren's voice came from the closet.
"Why are you in the closet?"
"I took a wrong turn."
"Get out here. I need you to sharpen something."
"My sword?"
"No," Taylor held up a fresh piece of bamboo. "We're making shrapnel."
The war was escalating. And Taylor was done playing defense.