Pretending to be a noob in a world scaled by power level

[31] Hard lesson

"Very well," I responded, my voice ringing with a calm and stoic determination. "You leave me with no other choice..."

Keeping my eyes on the menacing group, my hand instinctively reached for my wrist, subtly making contact with a small device concealed under my sleeve - my power limiter.

Usually, it was set to restrict my strength to match that of an E-tier adventurer, keeping my true capabilities hidden from the world. But now, I had to reveal a bit more.

Without any fanfare or grand gestures, I discretely manipulated the tiny mechanism, adjusting its settings. It was a small and silent action, yet it bore the weight of a powerful decision.

The shift was immediate, albeit invisible to the naked eye. My body tingled slightly, power surging through me as my limiter now reflected my A-tier strength. There were no sparks of light, no gusts of wind, no ominous aura, just a silent, undetectable shift in power.

Without further ado, the four B-tier adventurers lunged at me simultaneously, their expressions a mélange of arrogance, greed, and a touch of malicious glee.

The largest, a brutish mountain of a man brandishing an imposing axe, led the charge, barreling towards me with raw power and unyielding momentum. The ground practically trembled beneath his thunderous strides, his heavy boots kicking up debris in his wake.

Following closely were his companions: a nimble elf with daggers glinting ominously in the faint alleyway light, an orc wielding a bone-crushing mace, and a rogueish human armed with a lethal-looking short sword. They moved as a coordinated unit, their movements fluid and purposeful, a well-oiled machine fuelled by camaraderie and shared experience.

Despite their menacing front, their tactics were clear and straightforward - overwhelm with sheer force and numbers. They left little room for escape, the claustrophobic alleyway already shrinking with their encroaching presence. The air seemed to crackle with their hostility and intent, a palpable tension hanging heavily around us.

I stood my ground, my gaze steady, my hand securely wrapped around the hilt of my newly-acquired sword. The echo of steel scraping against leather reverberated off the brick walls as I pulled it from its sheath, ready for what was about to unfold.

As if time itself was under my command, everything seemed to slow. Their calculated charges, once filled with bravado, became an unfolding tableau of imminent defeat.

First was the axe-wielding man, his brutish form a formidable obstacle. I stepped to the side, letting his momentum carry him past me, and in a swift arc, my blade connected with his right arm. With a gruesome cleave, his bellow of rage turned into a wail of agony as his arm, still clutching his axe, separated from his body and fell to the cobblestones.

Next was the nimble elf, darting in with daggers. I parried his first attack, then spun, using my momentum to slash across his thigh. With a cry, he staggered back, blood gushing from the deep wound as his limb gave way beneath him.

The orc was next, swinging his mace with reckless abandon. I slid beneath his attack, the mace whistling above my head, and rose with a devastating upward swing. His left arm, once the wielder of his mighty mace, joined the collection of severed limbs.

Finally, the rogueish human made his move, lunging with his short sword. I sidestepped his attack and, with a swift and brutal counter-stroke, severed his sword arm at the elbow.

Four opponents, four amputations. I stood amongst them, my sword dripping with their blood, my breath steady. The only sounds in the once lively alley were their screams of pain and shock, a grim symphony of defeat.

"Where is real hideout?" I asked one of the guys who's limb I just cut off.

"I...I don't know! But...But if someone is trying to sell of ill gained booty, they will do so at the black market!" his voice laced with pain and fear.

"Where is the black market?" I asked with a firm voice, my sword hovering near his neck.

"Alright, alright! I'll tell ya!" he stammered, his face pale and slick with cold sweat. "You have to take the main road, go south until you reach the square. From there, head east into the alleyway beside the baker's shop. Keep going straight till you see a red door. That's...that's the entrance to the black market."

His voice trailed off as he finished speaking, the terror of his situation eclipsed by the agony of his wounds. A silence fell over the alleyway, broken only by the sound of labored breathing and the faint drip of blood hitting the cobblestones.

"Now, please... I beg ya. Call a healer..." he whimpered.

Q: Would you heal these guys in this situation?