“This isn’t enough for you, eh? A tough lad from the outlands, eh?”

Knuckle had arrived with a small cage covered by a black cloth. He approached the object and removed the cover. Pete gave out a whimper.

Five little feral beasts skittered within the cage. They were tiny enough to fit within Pete’s palm. Bright blue and noisy, they were tiny and adorable, except for ravenous fangs that gnashed at him hungrily. Pete knew what they were. He had faced a swarm in Sherwood forest.

“These are forest pixies, laddie. Carnivorous little devils. We have starved them for three days.”

One of the cage doors was a retractable metal panel. Knuckle tied the small cage to Pete’s belly with the panel against his abdomen.

“Let’s see how you hold up against these teeny monsters, laddie. Once I open the door, they will eat through your belly and burrow out your back. Sounds like fun, eh?”

“No no no no, don’t do this!” Pete pleaded. The head constable’s bloated face flashed an evil grin. He was enjoying torturing the boy.

Ding!

[ Loading… ]

[ Con the Constable ]

[ Completion Reward: 20💰, Reputation +20 ]

[ Failure Penalty: Death, Failure Title: Dead mongrel ]

Pete spat out blood and looked at his dashboard. ‘The same quest again? I already defeated him back in the town square and yet failed the quest.’

‘Oh, wait.’

A sudden realization dawned on Pete. ‘Con the Constable, huh?’

‘I have to get out of this situation somehow, through lies! I have to CON Knuckle!’

Pete raised his face to his torturer. “Okay, Mister Constable Sir, I will tell you the truth. Please take the pixies off me. You cannot believe how difficult it was to get this pretty-looking body.”

“Now that’s more like it, laddie! The pixies did the trick, eh?” Knuckle scoffed. “Tell me, who sent you? A bandit? An outlaw? A brigand?”

Pete buried his face in his chest for a few seconds, calming himself down. It had to be the performance of a lifetime.

“Are you passed out, laddie? I took the pixies away. No need to fear. Just spill the beans!”

Pete slowly raised his head and locked eyes with Knuckle. His fearful expression had changed. It had turned to arrogance and scorn.

“How dare you bring me to this hovel, you miserable constable!” he spat with disdain.

Knuckle was taken aback. His voice softened. “What are you saying, laddie? Who are you really?”

Pete’s voice was aristocratic this time. “I am Rob Huntington of the House of Huntington.”

[ Intelligence +1 ]

The constable looked puzzled. “Eh? I have never heard the name of such a house. Err… but it does sound important.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“It is… IMPORTANT, you fat copper! We are the best archers in King Richard’s kingdom. Our small, prosperous city of Huntington lies to the extreme east, and I am here as a representative. Look at the reception! Picked up by lunatic policemen!”

Knuckle’s severe expression melted. He looked apologetic. “Oh, I am sorry, sir… I did not know you were from a proper family. Please forgive me.” He untied the boy’s arms and handed him a bottle of red potion. “Please have this as an apology. It will heal your injuries.”

Pete popped the cork and took a swig from the bottle. It tasted like highly concentrated strawberries cooked in vinegar. “Blegh!” The taste was terrible, but the effect was immediate. He felt better instantly. The pain disappeared, and his bruises retreated.

“Let me free you of the rest of the bonds and chains, sir,” Knuckle added, red-faced.

Ding!

[ Loading… ]

[ Con the Constable ] [ Completed! ]

[ Completion Reward- 20💰, Reputation +10 ] [ Rewarded! ]

[ Extra reward: Guile +10 ]

[ Collect? ] [ Yes/ No ]

‘Yes!’

[ Loading… ]

Ding!

[ Level Up! ]

[ Robin Hood: Lvl 2 ]

[ Alias: Rob Huntington ] [New!]

[ HP: 2000 ]

[ MP 1000 ]

[ Wealth: 20💰 ]

“I apologize for my misdemeanor, Mr. Huntington,” the head constable said, scrunching his nose.

“That’s okay. You were doing your job.”

Pete’s wounds were healed, and the dirt was magically cleaned off of his clothes. “Now, you can lead me out of this cold, dark prison. I do not belong here.”

Knuckle hesitated, wringing his hands. “Err… about that, sir. We added you to the register after bringing you in. Therefore, someone has to post bail on your behalf. I am sure one of your friends in the nobility would be glad to oblige, considering you are so well connected with the King. I assure you it’s only a formality.” He continued wringing his hands which made the boy cringe.

Pete’s smile turned into a frown. ‘Another impossible hurdle!’

Nobody would come to his help because nobody in the damned world knew him! Was he screwed again? Would Sir Guy come to his aid? Would Knuckle discover that Huntington was a made-up family? The boy did not even want to imagine pixies eating through his abdomen.

The constable waited for him to respond, then urged, “Let me know who to contact, sir. I will send a boy to fetch them at the earliest.”

“I… uh…”

“Yes, go on... We must dispose of this formality before the Sheriff returns, or he will be furious at me.”

“I don’t…”

Knuckle’s expression started turning severe again. “Don’t tell me you don’t have…”

“Mr. Knuckle, sir!” an errand boy called out from outside the cell. “The prisoner has a visitor who has posted his bail!”

The Head constable spoke to the messenger briefly and turned back to Pete. “It seems I was worried for no reason, Master Huntington,” he said, smiling deliriously. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Knuckle led Pete out of the cell and through a long, dark corridor. Pete was apprehensive that it was again a deception.

The boy expected to be dragged into one of the dark cells at any moment. He walked on slowly, reacting to every foot shuffle and metal grating. Once they exited the double doors, he found himself in the police station lobby.

Pete had been holding his breath. He let it out and allowed relief to flood his face.

‘Who was the mysterious bailor?’ he wondered, looking around curiously.

“There’s your acquaintance, sir,” Knuckle said, pointing towards the shift desk. “Have a good day!” he added with reverence and left to continue his patrols.

Pete nodded and walked toward his rescuer. She was a lady who stood by the shift desk near the entrance. The boy craned his neck as he approached her. ‘Is it Elaine, Sir Guy’s sister?’

Pete found that his bailor was somebody else entirely. She was a redhead, dressed conservatively in a feminine cotton dress.

The girl had a wild beauty about her. She smiled warmly at him. Pete’s heart skipped a beat.

“Hello, Robin,” she said within his earshot. “I am Morgiana.”