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Backstory

        Located on the west of suburbs, there was an inconspicuous farm. Its owner ran a small restaurant nearby, serving visitors delicious hot meals every day. His wife was responsible for the signature grilled dishes; and the owner mainly took charge of processing the fresh meat.

        “Perillos, chicken is running out of stock. Go get some,” the owner ordered as he was busy at washing knives.

        “Alright,” the boy, with a stony face, nodded. Then he walked to the farm slowly.

        15 year-old Perillos, the son of the owner, was precocious in terms of his physique. He was husky but not that nimble. The way he moved was unnatural, always like a wind-up robot. Perillos wanted to catch the chickens by grabbing their feet, but was stumbled on the ground accidentally. His embarrassed look had made an old worker burst into laughter.

        “You have to catch their wings.” Perillos ignored the old worker’s advice, grabbed the hen’s neck and stared at it. As he choked hard, the hen kept spreading its wings and clucking.

        “Haha,” Perillos then continued abusing that chicken, and soon it was choked to death. Since then, the boy was aware that he was totally indulged in pain and struggles of animals before they died. Even though he was buttoned-up, Perillos would actively help his father whenever livestock or animals went to slaughter.

        One day, to cope with the order of a merchant fleet, Perillos needed to slaughter a dozen of pigs and sheep. “I’ll do it!” He refused to let his parents help so that he could enjoy this wonderful moment of torture alone.

        “The amount is too much for you, Perillos.”

        He and his parents were arguing. During which, Perillos accidentally pushed them into a giant brazen urn next to the stove. The urn was burning hot, placed on the firewoods. His parents were screaming, groaning in pain desperately. Gazing at the two of them, slowly roast, and flesh starting to detach from bones, Perillos was overjoyed. “Screams of humans are much pleasing than animals’.”

        Since the death of his parents, Perillos had taken over the restaurant alone. Every night, he slaughtered the livestock to satisfy his own desire. At the same time, he was waiting for a suitable “ingredient” to come up. Screams of poultry broke the silence at midnight. A shabby drunk, attracted by noises and scent, came to the restaurant, banging the door like a madman. “Open the door! I’m starving!”

        After a while, the door opened; a burly figure, twice as tall as the drunk, showed up. Perillos, who looked stony-faced, responded as he held a meat hammer. “Come in.”

        The roast duck was so crispy and tender that the drunk did not slow down for a second. While he was gorging himself, Perillos was preparing secretly. After a hearty meal, the man was dead drunk. Even though Perillos put him into a brazen bull violently, the man was still unconscious.

        Then, he lit up the firewoods and soon, the bull became piping hot, which had woken up the drunk inside. With the increasing temperature of the body, screams echoed through the chamber. “Ahhhhhh! Let me out!! Help!”

        Perillos whispered to himself delightedly, “beautiful! My brazen bull matches well with this symphony of death.”

        Next day, a middle-aged gentleman came to the restaurant. He took a look at the menu and ordered, “I need a roast please.”

        “Which kind of roast? Beef? Lamb?”

        That man smiled as he continued. “Human.”

        “What do you mean? We only serve livestock here.”

        “According to the guild, your signature is roast human flesh,” the man said.

        Perillos pondered for a while. Then, he remained silent, went into the kitchen and took out the “dish” inside the brazen bull. The golden roast flesh was just like beef judging from the naked eye. Perillos put it in front on the man and said coldly, “Here you are.”

        To observe his moves, Perillos stood still. The man tore the roast apart with a fork and took a sniff. “A well-deserved signature cuisine...Do you want more “ingredients” to create other delicacies?”

        “You can provide more to me,” asked Perillos.

        The man answered as he took out a red spider lily. “Of course. I’m Shire, welcome to join the assassin guild.”

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