Strike the iron while it's hot. Kill your enemies before they kill you. Walk around with blood smeared on your face at night to scare ghosts away. Bite mosquitoes before they bite you. In one form or another, the saying 'first one to strike holds the advantage' has been floating around since the beginning of striking.
I was a follower of such age-old wisdom. Honestly, the strong didn't need advantages, but I was still getting there so this was ok.
With that in mind, I now found myself hiding behind a bush. In front of me, the sight of my mansion's kitchen was paved through a window. As the scant sunlight bounced over the windowpanes, their fall a fight against the many leaves in the way gave a cherubic air to the maid that stood amidst it.
"HAHA! HAHAHA!"
Or it would have, were it not for the way she was sharpening her knife while laughing out loud.
"Oh, she's gone gone, Eugy. What the fuck did you do?"
"I have no fucking idea."
