Robots, Rabbits, and Repressed Emotions

Side Hustle as a Cult Leader

William grabbed his knife swiftly, as if it were a built-in mechanism ready for murder. Then he paused once he realised that there was a slight problem—too many people, and not just children, but grown adults, which took a bit more effort. This was, after all, the very reason he didn't kill all the villagers off in the first place.

But he had already decided on killing them, and he had to follow through with his plan. He would not abandon his own ideas. Even if killing an entire village in one night wasn't practical, it is definitely morally wrong, and even if the whole reason it led up to the ultimate decision was caused by only two people in the entire village that narked him, he would follow through with his plan. Failure was not an option. He was William Afton, a stubborn person who, no matter if the world was against him or if he was pushed down, would always come back.

He stared at the corpses callously. "Damn, those guys sure were annoying. Cleaning up all this blood's gonna be a pain, might as well just murder everyone else as soon as possible so no one complains. Yep, I'll just do that." As he was about to avert his eyes, he noticed a number of large crates stacked up against the wall of a building. In hopes that the crates would help him succeed in his mission, he decided to figure out what was inside. Upon closer inspection, he realised that they were filled with bottles of vodka.

"Hmmm, I'm sure I could use these for something somehow. Perhaps I could give everyone alcohol poisoning? Or bash them all on the heads? Maybe drown them? Bloody children, why is killing an entire village worth of people so hard!? They aren't even children, so it won't be that fun as well." He then heard the laughter and chattering of people that were walking nearby around the blazing bonfire. "Oh, shut the bloody fuck up! I can't concentrate!!" William threw one of the bottles in frustration—a habit he developed back in his old world. It smashed against the wall and left a dripping, wet mess.

"Wait a second," said William, thinking back to the time when his stupid idiot son, Michael, was foolishly playing with William's cigarette lighter and almost burned down the house after accidentally dropping it in William's alcohol stash that he was HOPING to drink with Henry later but just became another thing that Michael ruined. Fortunately, insurance covered the damage, but Michael did receive harsh punishment and was given a warning to never play with fire again or else he'd get killed. "Isn't alcohol highly flammable? What if I just burnt the village down? I'm usually more of a knife person, but who cares if it's just adults? All that matters to me is that they're dead. The question is, how do I make the village flammable enough? Additionally, what if the people just leave or put the fire out in time so that not everyone is dead?"

William moved his head around as he pondered and looked at the yellow grass. Crouching, he rubbed the dry grass, feeling its coarseness against his fingers. "The grass would help increase the fire's spreading rate, which, together with the alcohol, would make it extremely difficult to put out. And this village... it's possible they don't know about Class B fires. Haha, with my luck, it's possible they'll just try using water and make it worse!! And I could murder the runaways myself at the gate of the village. But how do I get the entire village drenched in alcohol quickly without suspicion?" Then it hit him, the perfect plan, not only would it allow him to do it quicker but also allow him to move around with ease.

William picked up an alcohol crate and carried it over to the village square, where most of the village people were busy chattering and dancing near the bonfire.

"ATTENTION!" William had screamed at the top of his lungs. Few of the people looked at him, but most ignored him, doing their own stuff. "I have an announcement to make! It's about a tradition from my world that I think is of interest! It's something that will HELP this village have a SUCCESSFUL GIANT HUNTING TRIP!!"

This immediately grabbed their attention, and the rest of the villagers turned to look excitedly at him.

"So," William continued, "what you do is pour alcohol all over yourselves, and if everyone but me does it, then you will be blessed by the, uh, alcohol gods for good hunting! Oh, and also, extra points if you cover the ground and buildings in it too."

The crowd fell silent, processing what he just said. One person questioned, "Why can't you cover yourself in alcohol too?"

William used his professional scammer smile when he dealt with his business partner, Henry. "Well, I would love to do that—but I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm allergic—to alcohol. So, can everyone follow the plan and drench themselves in this highly concentrated, flammable liquid now?"

Eventually one man spoke up, "Well, that sounds... like an absolutely incredible idea!"

Cheers of agreement flooded the village. Calls of "What a great plan!" and "I cannot see a single way this could backfire or ever cause any problems!" echoed through the crowd.

"Bloody children, these people are idiots. I mean, seriously, imagine getting tricked into being burned alive... And I thought people dumber than Michael couldn't exist. I mean, worse ones definitely don't exist, but these people are almost equal. Almost."

"Everyone, chop chop, time to get to work!" Everyone loudly applauded before lining up one at a time to get handed out bottles of vodka. Then they poured alcohol on themselves like a bunch of fanatic cult members. William looked at the now-drenched villagers that spilt trails of alcohol on the floor, spreading outwards like how ants crawled out of dirt. "Damn, and I thought I was a bit bonkers. These people were way too long gone for the head."

One of the now-soaked villagers came up to him and said, "So, Sir Isekai Protagonist, I think everyone has covered it all with alcohol by now. What do we do now?"

William smiled as he walked over to the blazing bonfire, picking up one of the branches in it, careful not to let the fire burn himself. "Now," he said with an ear-to-ear grin as he tossed the blazing stick on the alcohol-soaked floor, setting the village and the people ablaze. "How about you all just die?"