In the world of Dystopia, peace was more of a myth than a reality. War, famine, plagues, natural disasters, magical beast stampedes, and, most terrifying of all, the creeping threat of the Evil Continent were just a few of the daily dangers that haunted its people.
But at this very moment, in a remote village on the Reca continent, the impossible was happening—a rare moment of peace. The village fair had become a sanctuary, a place where villagers could forget their hardships and immerse themselves in the joy of food, laughter, and festivities.
Well, almost everyone.
There was one notable exception: a “bully” looking boy, somewhere between the ages of 11 and 12, who was currently sprinting through the fair as if a demon was hot on his trail. His chubby little legs pumped furiously, sweat pouring down his red, puffy face.
“Help! Somebody, anybody, please help me!” he screamed, his voice cracking with desperation.
And what, you ask, was this boy’s nightmare?
Could it be the suspicious-looking man chasing him? The one wearing a yellow cape, oversized sunglasses, and carrying a massive, dirty box on his head? The man who was shouting, “Don’t run, my precious! I’ll throw in some homemade pumpkin candy and let you woo my first student as your girlfriend!”
Or perhaps it was the cute little “girl” in a frilly princess dress running behind the man, her face red with fury as she panted, “Stop! You stupid old man! I’ll kill you for tricking me into wearing this stupid dress and using me as bait!”
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the village bully’s worst nightmare was none other than the self-proclaimed Grand Master Pumpkin and his unfortunate disciple, the former great hero now known as Potat.
And yes, Potat was currently cross-dressing.
The bully had learned the hard way that Pumpkin was not the wise and noble mentor he’d been promised. After discovering that Pumpkin was the master of the so-called “mountain gorilla” (aka Potat, the “princess” who had beaten him to a pulp earlier), the bully had concluded that this yellow-caped weirdo was a fraud. And now, seeing Pumpkin barreling toward him with his big box and creepy candy, the bully was convinced that his worst fears were about to come true—a second beating in a single day.
“No! Don’t come near me! Stay away!” he cried, tears streaming down his face.
“This is what I get for being greedy!” the bully thought bitterly. “Why did I try to impress a cute ‘girl’ when I look like a squashed potato?!”
Despite his desperate attempts to escape, Pumpkin was gaining on him, even with the massive box balanced on his head. Just as the bully braced himself for the inevitable, something miraculous happened.
“Stop right there, you pervert!”
Standing between the bully and Pumpkin was a middle-aged woman, her round figure casting an imposing shadow. In her hands was a bamboo broom that looked like it had seen its fair share of action. Her furious glare could have melted stone.
The bully didn’t waste a second. He let out a sigh of relief, darted past the woman, and disappeared into the crowd, leaving his nightmare behind.
Pumpkin blinked at the woman a few times, his momentum halting. “Hmm, who might you be, madam? Do you need something from me?”
At that moment, he noticed a frightened young girl clinging to the woman’s side. Recognition flashed across his face.
“Ah, I see! You’ve returned to become my student!” Pumpkin exclaimed, his tone brimming with pride. “I knew it. No one in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to train under The Great Grand Master Pumpkin! Ha ha ha!”
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Behind him, Potat snorted so loudly it almost drowned out Pumpkin’s laughter.
“Hmph.”
Pumpkin ignored the disdainful noise and puffed out his chest. But before he could shower himself with more praise, the little girl spoke up, her voice trembling.
“Mummy, this is the bad man who tried to take me away!” she cried, pointing an accusing finger at Pumpkin.
The middle-aged woman’s eyes blazed with fury. Her grip on the bamboo broom tightened, and she raised it high, ready to deliver justice in the form of a thorough beating.
Sensing danger, Pumpkin’s brain went into overdrive. He straightened up and adopted a dignified tone.
“Misunderstanding! This is all a huge misunderstanding!” he said, holding up his hands defensively. “Beautiful young lady, do you really think an upright man like me would kidnap anyone? If I were to kidnap someone, I’d at least choose someone as stunningly beautiful as you.”
The woman froze mid-swing, her expression shifting from rage to surprise. “You think I’m… beautiful?” she asked, a blush creeping across her cheeks.
Pumpkin’s instincts kicked into high gear. “Of course!” he declared, flashing a confident grin.
The woman’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Oh, my… I had no idea I was so attractive…”
Potat, standing a few steps behind Pumpkin, slapped his own forehead in exasperation. “This is the guy who’s supposed to teach me? I’m doomed.”
Meanwhile, Pumpkin mentally congratulated himself. “Pumpkin, oh Pumpkin, your charm is truly unstoppable. Women can’t help but fall for you!”
After Pumpkin’s little flight of fancy, he decided to speak again, his voice dripping with exaggerated charm.
“No! I was wrong! You’re not beautiful.”
The middle-aged woman froze. Her joyous expression soured, replaced by one of both disappointment and bubbling anger. “What did you just say?”
But before she could swing her trusty bamboo broom, Pumpkin raised a hand dramatically, a sly smile spreading across his face. His next words made the woman beam like a pig who’d stumbled across a whole bucket of rotten vegetables.
“That’s because the word beautiful isn’t worthy of describing your beauty!” he declared, throwing his arms wide. “Even the moon is ashamed to show its face before you, and the sun burns with jealousy of your radiant smile. Look at it—trying so hard to outshine you!”
He pointed dramatically at the blazing summer sun hanging in the sky, as if it were part of some celestial conspiracy.
The middle-aged woman’s face lit up, her barrel-like body swaying with joy like a toddler who’d just been handed a lollipop. She let out a hearty, childlike laugh, thoroughly enchanted by Pumpkin’s oily flattery.
Potat, however, was far from charmed. Watching the woman giggle and wiggle, combined with Pumpkin’s over-the-top bootlicking, was too much for him. He gagged audibly.
“Ugh… I think I’m gonna puke.”
Pumpkin, confident he had the situation well under control, decided to push his luck further. A dreadful smile spread across his face—a smile so unnerving that the little girl beside the middle-aged woman shuddered.
“Now I understand why your daughter has such incredible dormant potential!” Pumpkin exclaimed; his tone heavy with fake admiration. “She must’ve inherited it from you, of course. In fact, I’d say your hidden potential even surpasses hers! Why don’t both of you become my students? Together, we’ll carve your names into history as the greatest heroes of the future!”
The middle-aged woman’s eyes sparkled with excitement. She seemed seconds away from making the worst decision of her life when, once again, fate intervened.
This time, it came in the form of a towering, muscular man—a bald giant over two meters tall with arms thicker than most tree trunks. He stormed toward the scene, his heavy footsteps making the ground tremble slightly.
Unlike the middle-aged woman, this man was not swayed by Pumpkin’s sweet words. He didn’t bother with pleasantries or questions. Instead, he grabbed Pumpkin by the collar and hoisted him into the air like a scrawny chicken.
“Brat!” the giant boomed, his voice deep enough to make nearby children cry. “Not only did you try to kidnap my daughter, but now you’re seducing my wife?! You must have a death wish!”
Dangling helplessly in the air, Pumpkin flailed like a fish out of water, his oversized sunglasses slipping down his nose. “Wait, wait! This is all a misunderstanding!” he squeaked, trying to squirm free.
Watching from a safe distance, Potat was practically rolling on the ground laughing. “Serves you right, you stupid old man!” he howled, clutching his sides.
The giant’s grip on Pumpkin tightened, veins bulging on his massive arms. “You’ve got ten seconds to explain yourself before I turn you into Pumpkin stew,” he growled, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
Meanwhile, Pumpkin’s mind raced. He quickly realized that his usual charm and flattery weren’t going to work here. For the first time in a long while, the so-called “Grand Master Pumpkin” was truly out of his depth.