As Liam named him, the Boss and his employees looked at each other restlessly, their anxiety intensifying with each passing moment. That anxiety only worsened when Glenn returned without the scapegoat they had chosen. Sahro stood like a sentinel beside the towering pot filled with the Moon Grass bundles.
“...Come take a look,” Sahro gestured at the pot behind him, his eyes still glued to the Auberge’s team, waiting for them to give him an excuse to use his sword. The steel was hungry for their filthy blood.
Glenn opened the pot and paused, his lips curving upward. His smile had taken on an unusual quality, eerily similar to the sinister grin favored by Diamanes.
“Keep that pot in line of sight, Sahro,” Glenn commanded, his grin fading away to leave the place to a dark, impassive countenance. His gaze swept over the staff, the patrons, the Boss, and even Sahro. He sighed and clapped his hands sharply once.
The sound reverberated through the kitchen, capturing the attention of everyone present. Glenn had never been particularly fearful of being the center of attention, but he wasn’t enjoying it either. However, his time spent in the cozy confines of the Thorns Church's cell had changed him. He found himself doing things he'd never imagined before, almost as if it came naturally. Or perhaps, he had shed some inhibitions during his confinement. Oh well, he wasn't going to complain if he became a little bolder ‘thanks’ to the torture.
“Well,” He sighed, “It’s time to reveal the results of my investigation, then.”
His easygoing yet devilish smile returned as he gestured toward the Auberge's staff.
"Starting with the Boss, as he likes to call himself among his employees, and this corrupt staff – all of them are affiliated with the Thorns Church."
The employees’ expressions crumbled, and their hope of not being exposed shattered. The staff and the Boss all reacted in various ways: one sobbed on the floor, another angrily shouted at the Boss, shifting the blame on him, and so forth. Only the Boss remained silent, his expression blank and his thoughts indecipherable. Glenn continued with the revelations, disregarding the culprits’ reactions.
“My witness—the mistreated child of the Sewers from earlier—was able to give me confirmation that the Boss struck a deal with the Thron’s Church. He and his staff became addicted to Moon Grass,” he said, pulling a bundle from the giant pot. As the hallucinogenic drug was revealed, the employees fixated on it, clinging to it as if it were their lifeline, despite it being far from what they had hoped.
It was quite the opposite.
Glenn continued, unfazed, “The whole crew got hooked on it, and since the entire crew was consuming it, they needed a substantial stash to supply everyone. Which, as you might have guessed, wasn’t cheap.”
Glenn paced around, Mana twirling angrily around his clenched fists. He stopped between the patrons and the staff, addressing both of them at the same time.
"Naturally, the Thorns Church wasn't providing the Grass for free. They had no choice but to obtain funds, and quickly. Taking on a loan was an option they could have considered, but perhaps there wasn’t enough time to do so. They needed their drugs — and they needed it NOW.”
He paused and drew a small breath. Glenn then gestured toward the patrons gathered at the door.
"Just when they needed funds, we arrived – a group of joyous or desperate individuals seeking drinks and revelry. So, what did they do?"
He raised his hands as if the answer were self-evident, "They drugged us. They used their precious plant to 'enhance' our food, erasing our memories of the entire evening. They then took advantage of our inebriation to pilfer from our pockets, seizing anything of value, even going as far as taking advantage of me by making me take my stuff out of my dimensional pouch."
Suddenly, Glenn dashed behind the Boss and kicked him forward. The plumpy man collapsed on the floor, trembling as his eyes remained glued to the bundle of Moon Grass he had taken out earlier.
“Still, it seems strange… Where the hell could they have hidden all of our belongings? This many things can’t be transported easily nor hidden in a shelf. Care to show them, Boss?" Glenn pressed his foot on the Boss’ back, pinning him to the floor.
The owner stuttered, clutching his pudgy fists tightly "I... I don't know what you're talking about…!"
Glenn rolled his eyes and sighed exaggeratedly, “Ah, if you don’t know, I suppose you serve no purpose, then. Since we can’t get our stuff back, we’ll have to be satisfied by taking our anger on YOU.”
The moment he finished his sentence, a massive, spinning Arcane Auger appeared inches from the round man’s face. The Boss’s face paled and he hastily produced a leather pouch similar to Glenn’s and tossed it in front of him.
“I—It’s all in there, I swear!” The Boss cried. Glenn looked at the pouch emotionlessly and made the Arcane Auger almost touch the plump man.
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“Come on, Boss,” he hissed, “You know no one but you can retrieve our shit from this bag. Unless we kill you. So, your choice?”
The Boss hurriedly grabbed the pouch as Glenn let him stand up, “O…Okay, I—I’ll do it,” He stammered as his pudgy hands sunk into the dimensional pouch. Whether by coincidence or design, the initial item revealed was Glenn's recommendation plate, evoking a satisfied smile from him.
Minutes later, the Boss surrendered every stolen item, allowing patrons to reclaim their belongings, each displaying a mix of happiness and astonishment, as dimensional pouches were rare in the Fringe.
Glenn turned toward the Boss, a broad grin on his face, "Well, that's one problem solved, wouldn't you say?"
The Boss nodded hesitantly as he fiddled with his thumbs.
Glenn patted him on the back with a cold smile, "Don't you feel better? You're already on the path to redemption. Isn't that wonderful?"
The portly man nodded vigorously, a tremulous smile gracing his face, "Are...are we good?" he inquired.
Glenn moistened his lips, pondering heavily, “Hmm…I think so?”
He turned to leave the kitchen but halted at the doorway. He pivoted and approached the trembling man, placing a hand on his shoulder. The Boss looked up and froze in fear as he stared at Glenn’s devilish grin.
“No,” Glenn slowly said as his grin widened, “I almost forgot something, you see.”
He clenched his fists tightly and exhaled deeply, “Personally, I believe there’s a special place in hell for those who abuse children. It’s probably not far from where people like you are housed.”
Glenn slowly placed his hand on the Boss’ trembling head, “Did you like beating Liam and starving him?”
The Boss opened his mouth to answer, but Glenn didn’t give him the time to. He pushed down with all his strength, sending the Boss back on his knees, his head colliding with the floor loudly, the wooden tiles breaking under the might of the blow. The kitchen fell into a heavy silence, as no one dared to utter a sound, while Sahro's eyes revealed approval. Glenn slowly looked back up and gave an evil grin to the quivering staff.
“By the way, who’s Jason?” He asked innocently.
The employees betrayed the man with accusatory stares, wondering what he had done. Within moments, the man knelt on the ground, his face bloodied and his chest caved in. Glenn dusted his hands off and retrieved all the Moon Grass from the pot. He gave one last glance to the kitchen and the employees, before shaking his head.
“...Terrible customer service,” He muttered before departing, Sahro closely following behind, his sword still drawn. Simultaneously, Liam flung open the main door of the Auberge, panting, as two colossal, silver-armored giants entered, forced to bow to navigate the narrow opening. A small female priest, almost an ant compared to her formidable companions, entered the inn. She disregarded everyone and headed straight for Glenn, who paused curiously.
“You must be Glenn?” The priest asked with a warm smile. Glenn nodded and shook her extended hand.
“My pleasure. I take it you’re from the Church of Onnea?” He confirmed. The priest nodded as the two silver-armored giants grunted in agreement. She looked at the bundles of Moon Grass and smiled. “If you allow me…?”
Glenn obliged and happily surrendered the drugs. Without ceremony, the holy trio threw the drugs into a white jar, sealed it, and activated a magic rune on the side of that jar. The jar emitted a strange sound of combustion that soon ceased, signaling the destruction of the Moon Grass. Throughout the entire procedure, silence prevailed. Glenn couldn’t help but feel a connection with these individuals.
‘Somehow, I feel like they hate these insane cultists from the Thorn’s Church as much as me…’ He thought, bewildered. He was certainly going to look up the Church of Onnea after that.
The priest and her paladins then directed their attention toward the Boss and his subordinates. Meanwhile, Liam observed from outside, witnessing the fulfillment of his vendetta. Yet, a shadow clouded his expression when Glenn tapped his shoulder, offering a smile.
“It’s finally over. You’re free from them, now.” Glenn said as he turned away from the Auberge, his hands on his waist.
Glenn then hurriedly placed the recommendation plate that he was holding in his hand right back in his dimensional pouch, safeguarding it. He suddenly paused, feeling as if he had forgotten something. There was one hole in his reasoning; what did the Thorn’s Church gain from that venture? What purpose did they have? Getting the Auberge’s crew hooked on Moon Grass didn’t seem like it would achieve anything…
‘This whole thing was very interesting and all, but you still forgot to recover the money they took from you,’ Diamanes reminded him. Glenn paused and instinctively checked his dimensional pouch.
“Oh. Oh shit, I did forget about that…” He grunted in annoyance. Wasn’t it going to be weird to go back after the whole show he gave? And to get his cash back, on top of that?
Glenn sighed heavily. At least he still had the Howard ring and the Magi Brotherhood recommendation plate. Those were the two most important things he owned, after all. But still. Before, he was a king among peasants. Now, he was a dung pile among peasants. Not exactly the transition he hoped for. It even settled their original goal, paying their entry into the Third Circle, even further.
'Sigh'
Glenn turned back to the Auberge, disregarding his shame.
"Maybe I can go back and ask for my money, right?" He frowned and glanced around, "Where the hell is Sahro, by the way? Didn’t he follow me out?"
Diamanes chuckled dejectedly in Glenn's mind. The latter pushed the Auberge’s doors open once again, his eyebrows creased, when a bloodied, silver-colored mass of metal passed through the wall from inside the inn, blowing wind on Glenn, who stayed still in confusion. He turned his body, discovering that the silver mass was one of the paladins, crushed and compacted in a ball. A roar made the ground shake, as all the windows of the district exploded, projecting glass shards everywhere in a destructive symphony.
Glenn jumped back, his heart suddenly racing and his veins coursing with adrenaline. Mana twirled around him, ready to be used for destructive spells. Glenn gritted his teeth and hissed, “Why the hell can’t it ever be simple?!?”
On these words, he dashed back into the inn, Giselle’s shortsword in his left hand and a Magic Bullet in his right, Diamanes’ mocking laugh accompanying his steps.
For some reason, Glenn felt like he had just found the reason for the Thorn’s Church implication.