8

👍︎︎︎♒︎︎︎♋︎︎︎◻︎︎︎⧫︎︎︎♏︎︎︎❒︎︎︎ 🖰︎🖳︎ 👎︎♏︎◻︎♋︎❒︎⧫︎◆︎❒︎♏︎

"How about we go for a round?" The General asked enthusiastically, "You did just save a tavern from being shut down."

"Erhm, uhhhhh, I'll pass," The Puppeteer declined, "I'm not one for drinks. Plus I feel too young to be drinking."

"I've got to decline also," Thor agreed, "I still have a few missions I have to complete by the end of the week which means I don't have much time."

"Aw c'mon guys, You can't just leave a man hang—"

"Sir!" The group looked back to see a soldier out of breath. "Sir we've spotted one!"

"You've WHAT?" The General turned back towards the group. "Sorry guys I need to retract my offer, some important business is going down."

"Alright, where are they?" The General said as he ran off with the soldier.

"Well, that's that," Thor said, "I've got to go too. Catch you around." He left hastily so he could prevent the Puppeteer from objecting.

"Bruh," The Puppeteer thought to himself, "he actually just left me here. Alone. In a place I don't know."

He let out a sigh and left the arena in hopes of finding a place he knew. Right as he left the arena he could feel the daggers the humans were staring down at him. He tried ignoring them, but they were too prominent. Everyone was glaring at him and probably wishing him death threats. He let out another sigh and began to think about what he was going to do with his life in this new world.

"I guess I can forgo studying since this whole world revolves around The Wells of Truth. I could do missions with Thor, but that seems too tedious and he kinda just left me there which means he doesn't want me around him, at least when he's busy. There's obviously the standard 'Be Happy' crap but it's going to be pretty hard when almost everyone hates your guts."

He took a deep breath. "This is going to be so hard!" He turned a corner into a dark alleyway. "Darkness," he thought to himself, "This should be a nice place to let everything out." He proceeded to bang his head on a nearby wall twice before he felt faint and then punched it with his right hand. "There we go," he said as his forehead and hand began to bleed a bit, "I feel much better now." He was about to turn left when he heard a bit of screaming to his right. He took a quick peek at what was to his right.

There was a little kid with brown hair who looked to be around the age of 9 being picked from his head by a giant man who was sneering. The man seemed to be around 8 feet tall, muscular, and fat. It seemed contradictory that a man like this would exist.

"L-let me go!" the kid wailed through his fists in the air.

"Let you go?" the man laughed, "Why would I let you go? You ran into me and you want me to let you go? You're a funny little guy, maybe I'll be a little nicer." He stopped to think for a bit. "Nevermind, I won't." He then moved his hand from the kid's head to his hair, nearly yanking it out.

"OW! Stop it!" the kid was visibly crying, "It hurts!"

All while this was happening The Puppeteer could only watch. He did not have the adrenaline he had before when he was confronting Bruh. He put his hand on his chest, his heart pounding faster and faster. He knew that he had to do something. He couldn't just watch this innocent little kid be hurt or even worse killed. He tried taking a step forward, but he couldn't. The fear inside him was piling up too high.

"Calm down," he told himself, "you need to calm down. Just calm down, save the kid and let this all be done with." He took a deep breath and stepped forward only to be pushed by a phantom object. His body was flung forward and he headed face first into the ground.

"Ow," he thought to himself, "did I seriously trip?"

"Well, well, well," the man sneered, "look who's trying to play hero today. The boss said you sought justice. So, what are you going to do?"

The Puppeteer stood there frozen with fear. He tried to speak but nothing came out of his mouth.

"Heh, just as I thought. How about this? Give me that box of yours and I'll spare this little fellow's life?"

"I-uh-urm-eh," The Puppeteer stuttered, "N—. Uhm. Eh. Fuck. I."

"Answer the damn question!" The man bellowed, "Yes or this kid dies!"

"Y-yes!" The Puppeteer immediately replied, "I'll give you the box just don't harm the kid."

"Hand it over then"

"But how w—"

The man pulled out a blade double the size of him. "Give. Me. The. Box."

The Puppeteer quickly handed the man the box. He quickly opened it to check that everything was fine and then dropped the boy. "Hope it was worth it," he said as he sheathed his blade and walked off with a smile.

"Mister," the boy said, "Why?"

"I-i had to," The Puppeteer responded, "I couldn't just let someone like that kill someone because I felt something was more important to me."

"But mister," the boy asked this time his voice turned cold and monotonous, "what if it was a ploy?"

"What?" The Puppeteer responded in a startled voice, "What do you mean p—"

"What if it were all fake. What if I was just part of his plan and he didn't actually want to hurt me? What if what you did was all in vain and he would've killed me regardless? You seem a bit naïve that if you did the right thing you'd be rewarded."

The Puppeteer turned to the little boy only to see a reflection of himself. A voice he recognized. A face he knew.

"Mister! Mister!"

The Puppeteer returned to reality where he saw the little boy. "I-i want to thank you. For saving me."

"Y-you're welcome..." he said, his voice trailing off.

"How are you going to get that box back?" the little boy asked, "It seemed really important to you."

"There's no way of knowing. It may have been important to me but I could live without it. But I did have a bit of a plan." He pulled out a card. "Rightfully Mine. This should work." For the cost of 4 mana he played the card and the box appeared in his hands. He opened it and saw that everything was still there. "Good, good everyth—"

"YOU BACKGOING BASTARD!" a voice shrieked in the distance.

"Ah shit," The Puppeteer said, "I probably should've done that a little later."

The man came storming back destroying the ground beneath him with his rage and pointed his sword straight at The Puppeteer. "You better give that back or else everyone here dies!"

The Puppeteer stood up and took a deep breath. "No," he responded, "I don't think I will. In fact I'll just beat you up."

The man laughed, "You? Beat me? A scrawny shithead like you can't do anything to Ulysses the Swoll. Now die!"

He swung his sword but missed by a few millimeters. The Puppeteer quickly unsheathed his Flame Sword and pulled out two cards. When the first card shined nothing seemed to happen, but the second changed the sword into a scythe.

"Stop playing around, you know your death is imminent!" He swung again only this time to be stopped by the scythe. The Puppeteer silently repelled the blade and began attacking. He seemed inhuman, moving faster than a bullet train and dodging his opponents attacks midair.

"Stop moving and die already!" Ulysses yelled, "I will not l—" The Puppeteer had moved behind him and had the scythe in a position that would immediately decapitate Ulysses.

"WHY YOU!" Ulysses turned around to swing his blade only for The Puppeteer to move in a fraction of a second. Ulysses then pulled out a card and created a wide grin. He immediately swung his blade again, this time narrowly missing The Puppeteer's left arm. He pulled out another card and the events repeated themselves only with the exception that The Puppeteer's left arm was now gashed.

"It's OVER!" Ulysses was about to swing again only for a rope to appear around his sword arm.

"That's enough fighting in this city." a voice stated. The fighters looked towards the source only to be blinded by a light. The Puppeteer seemed unfazed while Ulysses stood in shock. He quickly pushed a button which was then received by a nearby person in a dark alleyway who proceeded to push another button several times and then disappeared.

"Fighting and violence are not allowed in Fondouras. Under section 7 of rule 8: Anyone caught committing an act of violence unless under a substantial threat will be subject to eternal pain and suffering. That is the law and I am the enforcer!"

Chapter 8: Departure END