Meth took off his glasses and gripped them, placing them in his pocket as he looked up and down at Arthur. His expression was one of pleasant surprise as he delivered a hopeful and shining glare, but his eyes widened while his pupils dilated, a heavy focus on his view. What he saw in front of him was an opportunity, a chance that he couldn't afford to let go from his grasp. His brown eyes were primarily darkened because of his enlarged pupils. He was focused.

"No, I don't want to," Arthur said, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve. "I need to, and I won't die until I do."

Meth placed his hand behind his neck, rubbing it, and awkwardly smiling, he exhaled as he took a step forward. "I can help you."

"I don't need your help because I understand what needs to be done. It all makes sense now."

"No, you don't understand," Meth said. "That name you mentioned. He's the son of a renowned hero. You can't just stroll your jolly way into his affairs."

"So? I'll join the heroes and shine a light on the injustices that Lewis put me through, and then I'll put his damn body in a fishbowl."

"They won't let you. Do you really think the agency will let you do such a thing with a top ten ranked hero?"

Arthur clenched his fists, walking closer to Meth. "Then I'll join the villains and-"

Meth cut Arthur off and said, "You say you understand everything. You say you know what needs to be done, but if you truly did, you'd know none of those are options. However, I can offer you a solution."

"What can you offer? You're just a random person who's come into my life," Arthur said, grabbing Meth's shoulder. "How can you help me? How could you possibly help me?"

"I may have overestimated you. Perhaps my vision has weakened."

"What?" Arthur asked, grabbing Meth's shoulder even harder.

"I'd think you'd at least know the basics. Especially if your future is to join my organization," Meth said, leaning forward and offering a straight face as he stared into Arthur's eyes. "You're a wanderer to this world. Do you really think anyone but I can help you?"

Arthur grew gills and scales around his neck, and slowly the fish skin grew down his whole body, his goldfish DNA merging with his new human body.

Meth closed his eyes. "Crime and injustice will never be eradicated," he said, grabbing Arthur's wrist. "And villain-hunts will never be about villains."

Arthur, for some reason, somewhat understood what Meth was talking about. After all, knowledge was now a part of him, and he no longer relied on intuition. Villain hunts were agendas where Heroes were assigned to kill the evil of the world. But he wasn't sure what hunts had to do with him.

"You, my friend, are in an awkward position. We both know that. You stand here all confident, but the longer I look at you, the more I see the eyes of a newborn. If you dared to consider joining those pricks that are heroes or even the idiots that call themselves villains, well you certainly are mistaken. Fucking mistaken to the fucking core."

"I don't think you understand. I don't care about heroes or villains. I'll do whatever I need to put that damn boy in a fishbowl. Why be a hero or villain when I can do it myself?"

Meth shook his head, smiling and looking around the entire area in such a manner that his eyes quickly scanned the area, almost like he was looking out for something. "You're leaking a lot of Tuam."

Tuam is simply an energy that causes aura: Buddha's golden aura.

Scales started to form around Arthur's chin, making it towards his cheeks, but he was too riled in his emotions to notice.

"You can try to put him in a fishbowl by yourself, or you can join my organization, and I'll help you. It's up to you. Would you rather fail by yourself or succeed under my jurisdiction? I don't know about you, but I'd choose success every time."

Arthur loosened his grip and grabbed his own head, his brain still stinging from information overload. He closed his eyes and breathed steadily, thinking about Meth's proposition.

Organizations were groups recognized by the government of United Freedom. The most popular organization was the Hero Agency, also known as the "Agency." The second prevalent group was the "Dawn of Light," owned by a mysterious influential force. Meth's group was the third most prominent agency — The Wanderers.

"We're running out of time," Meth said, scratching his head as he continued looking around.

Arthur opened his eyes, his scales going away. His mind drifted to the present because he felt something was amiss. He knew it.

"Just what I needed," Meth sarcastically whispered, grabbing Arthur and walking back towards the end of the alleyway. Arthur was hesitant to move at first, but he did as he listened to Meth. "Follow my orders and say nothing. And please try to calm yourself down. You're leaking too much."

Arthur comprehended everything he said, except for the leaking part...

Meth tried looking for a way to escape, but behind him was a tall brick wall. There was no getaway.

"What the hell is happening…?"

Meth stepped forward and looked back at Arthur. "Stay still and don't talk. Let me do all the talking, okay?"

"Sure..." Arthur said, his scales slowly regrowing.

"Stop leaking so much Tuam. Damn it." Meth clenched his hands, looking forward. He raised his arms and walked. "We come in peace."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Sir, it's me," someone said, walking into the alleyway. His casual outfit matched his attitude; he was peaceful.

"Arthur, you said you'd do anything to complete your goal, right?" Meth asked, looking back.

"Yeah?"

Meth repositioned his attention back to the man: his acquaintance. "Trevor, what happened? I told you to wait with Zoork."

"About that," he said, smiling. "Zoork was worried about you, so he had me check up on you."

Meth stood a few inches from Trevor as he looked down at his body and touched various parts, rolling his eyes as he did. "As you can see, I'm fine."

"That's great. Also, who's the gentleman behind you? I don't think I've met him before."

"A new friend."

"It seems I have much to catch up on!"

"No. No, you don't."

"Pardon?"

"For someone new to The Wanderers, I wouldn't expect you to realize this, but my orders are always final. And if anything..." Meth narrowed his eyes, getting closer to Trevor, tapping his shoulder. "It seems you have more to tell me."

"What?" Trevor asked, his nose wrinkling.

Meth pounced on Trevor, wrapping his arm around Trevor's neck. He looked around as he dragged Trevor towards the end of the Alley. "You're far too new to be betraying me."

"I would never dare," he said, squirming. Meth's grip was too tight for him to escape.

"Your Tuam, it's inactive. You're performing Nimak, but why?"

Nimak — a method to hide one's aura.

"I didn't want the agency to detect me."

"I wonder why they aren't shooting us? Perhaps it's because I'm using you as a meat shield?"

"You're talking crazy," Trevor said, his face turning blue.

Meth stopped walking and closed his eyes. "Arthur, don't move or talk."

"Let me go!"

Arthur stood still and watched Meth.

"Trevor, you're one hundred years too young to deceive the trickster. Release your powers."

Trevor's face was solid blue as he tried saying, "H… Help."

Ten soldiers materialized out of thin air with guns pointed at Meth. Another two guards were next to Arthur, pointing their weapons at him.

"What does the agency want with me?"

One soldier yelled, "The government expects The Wanderers to be disbanded, effective immediately."

The government selects organizations, but they can't simply remove them. The only way an organization can dissolve is for the owner to disband the group or for the owner's death.

Meth laughed, heavily breathing as he tried regaining focus. "You... You guys are something else. Would you also like me to wipe all your asses while I'm at it, or no, better yet, let me-"

"Silence," one soldier yelled, cutting Meth off. "If you don't disband, your death is nothing more than a guarantee."

"Irony at its finest," Meth said, smiling.

"We're not here to joke with you," a soldier yelled, shooting into the sky.

"Yeah, I'm sure the twelve soldiers and the pussy I'm holding are here to joke instead of murder me. Tell me something I don't know."

The soldiers gathered closer.

"Give up, you fucking loser," Trevor said. "You're nothing but a fake. We both know that."

"You either let go of him, or we'll countdown from five and shoot the fucking lights out on you."

"If you shoot me, your deaths are guaranteed."

"Don't listen to him," Trevor said. "Shoot!"

"As soldiers of the agency, you'd think you'd know my abilities," Meth said, turning his head towards Arthur. "If you kill me, that man behind us will explode."

"He's bluffing!" Trevor yelled.

The soldiers stepped back and looked at Arthur. The soldiers near Arthur stepped backward, getting away from him.

"What should we do?" a soldier asked.

The leader of the soldiers held his hand in the air, but he suddenly brought his gun toward Arthur, shooting him. The soldier shot at Arthur for five seconds, hitting him forty-five times.

Arthur fell to the floor, a dark red fluid covering his body.

"You damn fake," Trevor said, laughing.

All twelve soldiers circled Meth, their guns ready to shoot him at any second. The only reason they didn't attack was because of Meth's position. It would be a nuisance for the government to cover up such a person's death.

"Trevor, you're going to die such a horrid death, you damn bastard."

"Let Trevor go," a soldier said, shooting at Meth. But he missed as Meth let go of Trevor, rolling on the floor and evading the shots.

The soldiers ran towards Meth, pouncing on him and kneeling on his body, squishing him and making it impossible for him to escape.

Trevor walked towards Meth, kicking his face. "Fuck your predictions."

A free soldier pushed Trevor. "Don't harm the hostage without permission."

"Yeah, whatever," he said, kneeling on the floor and looking at Meth's face. "You always preached your power was not from Tuam, but your ability of hope. Your passion for humanity."

Meth heard every word. But he couldn't react since the soldiers were diffusing his Tuam by pressing multiple Tuam veins — his Tbars. This method would prevent the use of Tuam.

Trevor laughed, pointing at Meth as his finger shook. "And you had the audacity to say I'd die a horrible death. Wait until you reach the agency. They're going to gut you apart..."

A wretched smell, worse than rotten flesh, radiated from the end of the alleyway; the aroma was enough to make one vomit and instead want to eat that rather than smell whatever wretched smell was produced. Once lifeless, Arthur stood up, with scales covering his body and bullets embedded in them. His movements seemed robotic as he squeezed his muscles, pushing all the ammunition out. Although faint, the bullets spoke volumes as they fell to the floor.

"SHOOT, SHOOT!" a standing soldier said as he fired his gun at Arthur. His gun twisted and exploded. As the other soldiers joined, their weapons were also manipulated and exploded.

Arthur was pouring out Tuam, his body becoming even more fishlike. A light red aura rippled off his body, lashing anything near, and soon the bloodish color covered him. The red whips devastated the ground and walls.

The being inside the red aura was a bloodthirsty shark that swam for his next prey — that shark was Arthur.

All the soldiers fell to the ground and fainted, incapable of taking such raw power.

Arthur approached Trevor, who fell to the floor, sitting in his own piss.

'A horrid death,' Trevor thought as he held his scalp, looking at Arthur.

Arthur stood in front of Trevor. He brought his hand — webbed fingers — in front of Trevor's face and grabbed it, lifting him as he squirmed in the air. The sordid scent seared his nostrils.

"Mommy," Trevor said, tears falling down his face.

Arthur launched Trevor into the brick wall and broke through it, disappearing.

Meth straightened his suit, Arthur approaching him. He didn't care about his aura or stench, and even if the man in front of him was a deity, he wouldn't have moved an inch. "I tried warning those bastards."

Arthur raised his arm in the air, ready to slash Meth with his elongated nails — covered in scales.

Meth yawned as he leaned forward, looking at Arthur. "Do it."

Arthur took a step back out of instinct.

"Kill me now and ruin your chances at fulfilling your desire," he said. "No, your requirement."

Arthur twitched his hand, bringing it closer to Meth. He wasn't himself.

"Don't you want to put Lewis in a fishbowl, or do you want to squabble that by killing me?"

Animal instinct drove Arthur's actions, not his own. His actions were contradictory to his mind. Despite being deeply lost in animal instincts, Arthur was very much alive.

"What will it be, Arthur? What will it be?"

Arthur fell to the floor, the stench decreasing. His aura faded back into his Tbars — inside his body.

"I guess I made a mistake, trusting a fish," Meth said, walking out of the alleyway.

Arthur's scales disappeared as he jumped up and yelled, "Wait!" He reached his arm towards Meth, yelling again, "Wait!"

Meth continued walking, but he stopped and smiled. He formed a neutral face, turning back to Arthur. "The agency is definitely sending a hero as we speak. We need to move."

Arthur limped to Meth as he rubbed his temple. "My whole body feels like it's on fire."

"You got out easy. Now quit yapping, and let's move."

Together, they rushed towards a meeting point where Meth's other acquaintance, Zoork, was waiting.

'Death, I often see an inordinate amount, but for the first time... I'm excited to see yours. How will you die?' Meth thought as he clenched his hands and looked at Arthur. 'How will you die?'