“Beggar girl dead.” Sharpclaw came back with the bad news within half an hour. Prof faced a twofold dilemma.

  First, what to do with the perpetrator – some nice revenge killings, with plundering the corpses, household, and other properties would be in line with most of the stories he read. And would be the preferred thing his party members would urge him to do. After all, they were young and needed the money and fun. On the other hand, slaughtering his way through the population of a town, when he wasn't the lord of the town, was probably frowned upon by said lord, the law, and the local armed services. That, and he didn't exactly have an emotional attachment to the deceased.

  Sure, if some of his friends were killed in such a way, there was some minuscule possibility, he would take the law into his own hands.

  The other dilemma was, what to do with the little girl. Simply kicking her out, and leaving her on the roadside wasn't a nice and gentlemanly thing to do, so they either had to find an orphanage or take her with them. Prof wasn't exactly sure, how orphanages on fantasy worlds worked, but had the suspicion, it wasn't much better than simply leaving someone behind.

  Well, the beggar girl found it reasonable to hang on to the little one, and if living on the streets was better, than an orphanage…

  Of course, the party could take Francesca with them, feed and dress her, provide her with an education, finance her hobbies, give her pocket money, suffer a teenager's tantrums, just for when she was old enough, watch her living with the first punk she came across.

  It was like being a parent.

  Well, Prof also could let Mini keep the girl as an emergency food supply for herself and Binky.

  “So, what to do with the merchant and the girl?” he started a brainstorming session, although he was almost sure, what the answers would be.

  “Ssssstab?”

  “Yeah, a little carnage is long overdue! How long was it since we fought and killed anything? Also, you are obsessed with having money, and you could most likely loot some from a merchant. The girl we could feed to Binky.”

  “I need to get to Fallaria, distractions like this aren’t acceptable. Although, we could play some games with the merchant…”

  “What about a game of Where-did-my-limbs-go? Or we could do an archery competition!”

  “Only you are any good with ranged weapons, bloodsucker. I can’t even hold a bow! You would win instantly!”

  “Exactly. What is your problem?”

  “We should play a game, where I would win!”

  Children… Insane, overpowered children, all of them… Prof found the idea if putting Francesca into a run-down orphanage would be the best for his sanity, after all – and leaving the two Foresteans there too, for good measure. Did he really want to be saddled with another kid? On the other hand, Mini was able to take care of herself (Sleepy, Bacon and Sausage were also fine… mostly), so a probably-six-year-old could do the same, no?

  After all, what could possibly go wrong? Whole generations back on Earth were just fine growing up with a smartphone or a firearm in their hands…

  After listening to all the ideas, the Foresteans and Sharpclaw put forward for a fun time, Prof came to a decision.

  “All right, folks. This is what we will do. Francesca, do you want to come with a bunch of complete strangers, living in a wagon, having a questionable relationship with the law and rules, living in constant danger of paying taxes, or should we find an orphanage for you?" The way Prof put it, the correct answer would be 'orphanage'.

  “Please no orphanage! They make kids work!” Well, when asking a kid of undetermined, hip-high age, what she wanted to do, one shouldn’t be surprised by the answer.

  “All right… As for you folks. Do NOT kill, maim, burn, rob, beat up, hang, blackmail, or do anything else with or to the merchant, his extended family, the town, or the town's lord just now. If something happened to all those people, right now, even the dumbest guard would figure out, we were behind the deed. You would need to have a good alibi, preferably being somewhere else. We will make camp a day or so away, and if you want to come back doing your thing, you are free to do so. However, I don’t want to know. Deniable involvement. Are we clear?”

  Even after spending half a year on Arkadia, Prof did have some misgivings to slaughtering sapient creatures. The not-Guildmaster was different, that was self-defense, and Prof still wasn’t happy about it. If the others wanted to be homicidal murder hobos, Prof was gentlemanly enough not to stand in their way.

  After all, standing in the way of murder hobos mostly leads to becoming collateral casualty.

  Plus, if his companions decided to make a stroll in the scenic countryside, completely unrelated to an evil merchant perishing twenty kilometers away, not even the best investigators or mental mages with truth-detecting Spells could pin it on Prof.

  “What is an alibi?” Mini asked.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “You can prove with witnesses, that you were in a completely different place when something bad happened."

  “Why would you do that? If you aren't linked to some epic fun, no one would know, you were responsible!"

  “Yeah, that’s the reason. The constabulary wouldn’t be able to make you accountable.”

  “And that would be good, because…”

  “They wouldn't put you into a dungeon… NEVEMIND! They would do horrible things, like making you pay fines, and confiscate your collection of indecent clothes!”

  “Those would be indeed terrible things to do to an innocent girl! However, do you realize, I’m not stupid? I do know, that for whatever reason, these foreigners think, that killing folks for revenge or just because is wrong, and against some ‘law’ or ‘custom’ or ‘rule’?”

  “So you see, why the law knowing you did something wrong is bad?”

  “Yeah, sure. But I don’t care. Rules and stuff are there for other people to worry about.”

  “The bloodsucker is right. Why should proud Forestean nobles, I would even say, royalty, care about some idiotic foreigner custom?”

  Yeah, why would some entitled person care about any rules? It was the same in all the multiverses.

  “So, when you are the undisputed Supreme Emperor, you would pardon anyone, who transgressed your laws?"

  “Of course not! They would have violated my rules! Don’t be even more stupid than you normally are, peasant!”

  Why was Prof putting up with those folks again?

  Oh yeah, everyone else he met though, was a waste of barely passable biomatter, wanted to kill him, or was living in a bunker, playing Mythrill.

  At least with the Forestean, he was good for some comedic relief.

  He needed to get some non-insane, non-violent, non-homicidal friends…

  “All right, pack up, we move out!”

  They had still half a day to get into believable alibi distance for the time when some of the party wanted to take an innocent stroll in the moonlight. Having multiple moons with different phases made it indeed perfect for walking around, enjoying the sights, and brutally murdering and robbing some entitled twat. Not, that any of Prof's party members would do the latter.

  As far as Prof was concerned.

  For some strange reason, Francesca enjoyed Prof's reckless driving, even while sitting directly behind the exhausts. Sharpclaw decided some time ago, that traveling in the back, hidden below some blankets was less stressful – and much less smelly. Obviously betting on what Prof ran over next became boring too, so riding crossbow was possible for the girl.

  Of course, letting a minor sit in the front, without child seats or even seat belts violated quite a few modern road security regulations – however, Prof grew up sitting in the front, without a child seat, and about half the time without seat belts and survived. Those old Soviet-era cars weren't much more secure (or faster) than his new hog wagon, so Francesca was probably safe for the time being.

  The girl's fascination with booze-driven hogomotive transportation probably stemmed from the fact, that she had never ridden such a wonderful carriage in the front. And, being a peasant, most likely made her immune to methane.

  If she stayed with the party long enough, Prof planned to teach her how to drive – knowing how to drive was a very important thing to learn while growing up. Right next to responsible booze intake, proper bribing, and paying attention to the boss not being around, when one raged about how much of a slob he was.

  Of course, Prof himself had to learn how to drive first, but that was just a small detail.

  After making camp, Mini and Sharpclaw went for a joyride, borrowing Sleepy. Although Binky was higher Level and a Boss, the Scorpionlizard lacked in speed, which was very important when one wanted to make a peaceful ride in the countryside, definitely not going back to a town to do unspeakable things. Getting to places fast was obviously good for an alibi too.

  The future Supreme Emperor stayed behind, since sleeping all day on a shivering Kobold was obviously exhausting, and he needed to rest. Not even the prospect of carnage… ehm… a nice, innocent ride could enthuse him to forgo sleep.

  “When I'm the Supreme Emperor, I will let my loyal and overpowered troops burn that shameless town to the ground. Make an example, so others will know, that being respectful to a Grimalkin is important for continued survival."

  Well, revenge was either served ice cold or piping hot. One of those possibilities leads to prepared defenses and a clear justification for the deed.

  Prof always found it strange, that the authorities never said anything to the main character of the stories after some especially bloody revenge spree.

  Well, probably the guards heard about Darwinian selection, and decided, NOT questioning an overpowered lunatic, who just executed half the city was the best way to stay on the procreation lists.

  “Say, Prince D?nci. How come, that your ear is healed but is still shredded? Also the missing tufts or fur…" Prof wondered about those for some time.

  “As you should know, you can’t just heal Critical Hits with potions and such, you need someone with a Skill in [Doctoring] or [Medicine] to set the damage right. You could boost the healing with potions, but the initial healing has to be done with Skills. Unfortunately, the court doctor met his untimely end by being eaten by a tree before he could heal me properly…”

  “Eaten by a tree?”

  “Oh yeah, we have these awesome carnivorous plants at home. Blood Peaches, for example, were one of the most famous exports of Barackos. You had to water the trees with blood. The higher Level the critter, the better.”

  “Fascinating…”

  “ The court doctor thought was eaten by a baobab tree."

  “You have baobas that far North?”

  “Not really. We got that as loot from some stupid wayfarer. Not sure, why he was lugging around a tree, though. Anyway, peasant, let me sleep. Play with yourself or with that little Human. You seem to have the same Intelligence."

  After receiving a crash course on Forestean vegetation (that even gave Prof one whole percentage to [Botany]), Prof prepared a bed for their newest addition. Unfortunately, they didn't have any spare bedrolls – and they were too broke to buy a new one, even if Prof hadn't forgotten to do so – he had to surrender his own.

  All those stories back on Earth made the whole thing look easy: find an orphan in the wilderness and poof, you had all the things, that were needed for a kid.

  Prof hoped Mini would find some cash during her stroll; in the next town, they had to stop for kiddy stuff. Hopefully, they didn't have an adventurer's clothing shop, and if they did, they didn't sell stuff for children.

  Besides clothes, an own bedroll, and occasional food, what did kids need? Probably toys, educational books, and weaponry… Prof needed to compile another shopping list.