Markal was missing when he logged back on.

He yawned as he waved at Happy Hour, who was currently sweeping the shop’s floor. She waved back, and he took a moment to stretch. After all his time sitting in a cubical, it felt good to move around.

“Are you ready for the day?” He asked, as she finished up the last of the sweeping.

“I am, thank you Jester.” She smiled at him as she put the cleaning supplies away. “It’ll be nice to have Whiskers back.”

“You’re right on the money there.”

His eyes caught movement from the shop’s window. More of the same people who streamed through the last time. It appeared the excitement for the new update loot drops hadn’t died yet.

There were a few of the Chimera-Bots dotting the crowd. None of them were humanoid, he noticed. They were either a beast or machine hybrid. Though he couldn’t help but admit a few looked interesting.

One that was blocking people’s path was a giant tractor. Each of the wheels was a different type. Multiple exhaust pipes, engines and grabbing arms covered it. Even from here, he could hear people complaining. Though none of the previous arguments.

That was because of the multiple players wearing armbands in the crowd.

More than he’d seen the last time. The Union must have been recruiting from any new player they could grab.

At least that meant Mistletail was likely getting the help she needed.

“Jester?”

He started and whirled around. Happy Hour was standing there, looking concerned.

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you were ready to leave?” She motioned towards the window. “Or if you wanted to wait to see if this died away.”

“No, no, we can go. We should be there early, anyway.” Jester shook his head, trying to focus on the upcoming fight. As nice as the union getting more members was, he had things to do.

“Are we needed for something?” Happy Hour asked. “Should I get changed?”

He blinked, as he imagined the mascot version of Happy Hour moving about. That wouldn’t go well. Other players already were more than happy to yell things. No need to add furry based slurs to the list.

“No, keep as you are, I think.”

“As you wish.” She dropped into a small curtsy. “Shall we go then? It is somewhat of a walk.”

“We shall.”

With another glance out the window, he headed towards the door. As soon as he left, he heard the workshop start up. Markal was back. The Developers never wanted the shop empty if they could manage it.

Which meant that whatever program they used to had determined that Jester was eligible to take it over. That was interesting.

However, not what he needed to be focusing on.

They moved through the back ways to get around the crowds. Jester led them through alleyways and rooftops, never pausing longer than he needed to.

Some players pointed, others yelled out to him. He waved at those he noticed. Happy Hour, more than once doing a spin or adding another flourish to her jump.

Each time he saw it, it made him smile.

At the border, the lack of climbable buildings forced them to join back in with the crowd. To his delight, he saw no one trying to draw a Chimera-bot into Geartown.

A fact that made him feel safer. Though some people were carrying items out in the open.

The virus would be inside all of those, he knew. So, he did his best to keep Happy Hour shielded from them. The last thing they needed was to run into any kind of problem before the fight.

People still harassed them as they walked.

Random players shouting out a variety of things. Though it was less now. Once or twice he even saw a BikerBralwer13 groupie scowl at the perpetrator.

Jester wasn’t naïve enough to think he could single-handedly solve the image issue of the Androids. Still, it was nice to see it evolving somewhat.

Tiffany met him at the door to the Dollhouse.

She grinned at him, and he stepped into the pro-offered hug. He gave an overdramatic grunt at the tightness of the hug, causing her to laugh.

“Hey dude, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry works been crazy. Did you get my messages?” he smiled as she released him.

“Sure did. Another date if you win, huh?”

“Or lose. Dam13n doesn’t like my chances. Plus, I could do with some fun.”

Her smile gained something he couldn’t name.

“So I’m fun now?”

“Was that not obvious?”

That earned him a laugh. From the corner of his eye, he saw Happy Hour moved. She was doing a small dance, one that Ol’ Mac was replicating. At least she was keeping entertained while he flirted.

With a smile still on his face, he gestured inside.

“Are you coming to watch the fight?”

“Watch you lose, you mean?” Tiffany shook her head. “Nah, dude, I promised to watch the door. Things are going to get hectic when the tournament actually kicks off.”

“Damn. Was hoping to hear you cheering for me.”

“Tell you what, if you win, I’ll pay this time.” She gave him a thumbs up.

“You’re sharing Dam13ns opinion then?”

She laughed, and he shook his head.

“Do you know if Debrah’s in?”

“Yeah, upstairs getting things set up. Good job on being early. I doubt she’d have been best pleased if you delayed things.”

“Nah, plus this way, I get to talk to you before it starts.”

Tiffany looked away, the in-game version of a blush.

“Stop it you. Get in. before Happy Hour makes my robot fall over again.”

“Right, right. See you later?”

“Of course, dude. Now get.”

Jester waved as he went inside, Happy Hour repeating his action to Ol’ Mac. The boxing robot managed a jerky version of it back.

He wondered how a fight between them would go now. Maybe the Sea Dragon armor? It might be something worth talking to Tiffany about. Provided they got time. There always seemed to be something happening.

With effort, he pushed his way past the players already milling about. They stopped to stare, some even getting out of his way occasionally. Plenty of them slapped his back or offered to buy him drinks.

One particularly affectionate cat girl Android even approached away from her owner. The younger man was grinning as she offered to keep him company.

Happy Hour shut that down without a single word.

Jester was still silently laughing as they climbed the stairs. He couldn’t believe what they’d been thinking. Tiffany was right outside, even if he went for the Android thing. Idiot.

“You’re here. Good. Sit, please.”

Debrah caught his attention as soon as he hit the last step. She was gesturing to a couch. One that he was familiar with. He’d fallen asleep on it enough times, after all.

Once he’d sat, and Happy Hour moved off towards the bar, she joined him.

“So, do you want to know how this will work?”

“Sure,” Jester nodded.

“It shall be similar to the fight you engaged in with Heather. One on one fight. Any weapons or the like are allowed.”

He shifted in his seat as she spoke. Her voice was unfamiliar. Words coming out faster than normal.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, of course.” She looked at him. “This will be the first stream from my venue, is all. I want to make sure this goes off well. Then I have the tournament proper to worry about. Not anything I can’t handle.”

“Right. Can I help?” he asked. “I’m here, if you need something shifted about.”

She smiled at him then. It was as perfect as always. Even if her eyes showed her anxiousness.

“Yes, actually. Be approachable and polite. They’ll want to say hi I’m sure.”

“They.” He put emphasis on the word. “Stole Whiskers from us.”

“I know. Still, they control the stream. If they disparage the place, make us a target.” She looked around the rather opulent room. “I’ve poured a lot into this place.”

“Are you sure you want to do this, then? Most people aren’t aware of what’s here. This will change that.”

She nodded. “Yes. It’ll be good for business. Plus, we have enough combat Androids if something goes wrong.”

Jester nodded, not sure what else to say on that topic.

“In that case, be polite and smile. I can do that. When are they arriving?”

“A few minutes or so. If you’ll excuse me.” She stood up. “Thank you Jester. Good luck.”

***

Players started streaming in exactly around the time she’d claimed they would.

Dam13n caught his eye and smiled. He’d met his friend at the bar, Tiffany, having sent him ahead. He looked out of place among the sea of well-dressed players. Not that he acted it. Already in conversation with a pair of players.

Everyone who entered approached him before they took their seats. Either to shake his hands, offer a word of encouragement, or sneer at him.

No matter how they acted, he kept his word. A smile on his face, and a polite tone in his voice. He owed Debrah that much, after all. All the time they spoke, he wondered which of them was in on it.

Which of them was complicit in stealing his cat.

Debrah worked the room alongside him, whirling from group to group. She wore a flowing blue gown this time. A small green diamond shaped broach, her only accessory. Even the neckline was more modest than she normally pursued.

He wondered if it was a way of showing her irritation.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

From the way many of the players, female and male alike, he assumed it was. Any time they glanced her way, they smoothed a skirt or brushed lint off jackets. Nervous ticks, as they understood the displeasure of their host.

Though he doubted most would know the cause of her annoyance. That didn’t matter. The fact it was visible was enough.

Which meant those that needed to get the message would.

He did his best not to let the fact he’d caught on show in his smile.

That wouldn’t be following Debrah’s instructions at all.

As he chatted and made nice, he kept a strict eye on Happy Hour working the bar. Her smile was pleasant, and she said little. Any attempts at conversation met with one-word responses, or nods of her head.

None of her usual charm was on display.

Not that these people cared.

A majority seemed awestruck to be this close to her.

He wondered how Debrah got her to work at the bar. He didn’t remember her asking, and he didn’t request it. Though when he watched her moved back a step to avoid one of the player’s hands, it made sense.

The bar was a barrier. One that she could shelter behind if something tried anything.

When a new man talked to him, he snapped back to what he was doing. His smile was midway across his face when it died. His gaze reorienting on the cage they carried.

It was a simple thing, made of steel with a small grated door. Inside, he could hear shifting. Then he caught a flash of blue. A shade that he knew well, especially when followed by such a familiar meowing.

“You have my cat.”

Jester didn’t bother to hide the anger in his tone. He knew it was the opposite of what Debrah wanted him to do. That he’d catch flak for it.

However, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

All he got in response was a smile as the man nodded.

“An insurance policy, is all. Your opponent will be here soon. I asked if you were nervous?”

“No.” There was no fake smile on his face as he answered.

The man laughed.

“Good, I’m glad. Now, my associated wanted me to inform you we’ll know if you take a dive. Don’t. You have the outfit ready to go?”

“She’s gotten used to it.”

Jester watched as their eyes shifted towards the bar before they nodded. He didn’t like the way they lingered. Those black irises that sucked in the light. A cosmetic upgrade, no doubt. The only one that adorned this man.

Otherwise, he was unremarkable. Caucasian. Male. Brown hair. Nice suit. If it wasn’t for the eyes, Jester would have assumed it was someone using an alt account. Some players did that. Would have a simple basic avatar for socializing or watching fights.

Players spread rumors that DangerDeathless did it himself to scope out the competition. The act went against the terms of service.

Not that anything happened to them. Another benefit of being a top contributor, Jester guessed.

Without another word, the man turned and looked towards the stairs. Jester followed suit, and watched as who could only be Happy Hour’s opponent came into view.

The woman was tall, with long black hair pinned up to form two loops. A nearly blank mask covered her face. There was a single red line slashed across to signify a mouth. Not even eyeholes were visible.

He watched the cloth of her black ninjas uniform shift on her form. One reason for her popularity was obvious from the get go. At her side hung a small sword, and across her chest were throwing daggers. What looked like an oversized scroll rested on her back.

This entire thing screamed anime.

Jester shook his head, looking around for the Android’s owner. Another woman from the way they addressed her. She wore a shapeless oversized grey hoodie and long pants. With the hood up, it was almost impossible to get any details.

Two different stereotypes. So they worked on a theme. Would be the first.

They didn’t stop to chat long, simply moving towards the ring. As the Ninja woman approached, she made a series of hand gestures. There was a puff of smoke, and she was standing in the arena’s center.

The displayed impressed him. Short range teleportation was always exciting to see.

With one hand, he gestured towards Happy Hour. She finished serving her drink and moved not towards the Arena but to Debrah’s office. He followed suit, closing the door as Debrah started a speech to welcome the audience.

“They have Whiskers here.”

Happy Hour sighed in relief.

“That’s good news. Am I to change now?”

“Yes, here.” He pulled the outfit out of his inventory and turned around. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“Thank you. Jester.”

The door shut behind him with a soft click. He settled in to wait, as he listened to Debrah talk. She was welcoming his opponent. They went by the name SilkNightingale.

When the spotlight shone on the woman, he noticed she was uncomfortable at the attention.

That piqued his interest and made him wonder why she was doing this. Though he supposed she wouldn’t be on camera much. Not with her Android taking up most of the focus.

When the spotlight turned on him, he gave a small wave. A few players whispered, but he paid them no mind. His gaze locked on SilkNightingale. She didn’t meet his eye. A tickle appeared in the back of his brain. There was something wrong with all this.

However, at the door bursting open when Happy Hour was called, he forgot all about it.

She bounded out with a squeal of excitement. Her basket swinging with each step. In one mighty leap, she cleared the ropes to land in front of her opponent. One of her paws came up in a wave.

“Heya! Sorry if I’m.” She paused and looked at the audience. “A hare late.”

Several players groaned, a fact that made Jester laugh. Good. They wanted this.

Unlit Shadow Ninja of Deep Lore ignored the terrible joke. She simply bowed and waited as Debrah vanished from the stage. It was odd to see the contrast. One Android was so still, and then Happy Hour was bouncing foot to foot.

“Begin!”

***

Jester blinked at the sudden command.

Neither of the Androids attack, instead they seemed to wait on something.

Shadow was as still as the grave, an odd contrast to the constant movement of Happy Hour. She couldn’t stop shuffling, the metallic eggs clinking in the basket.

As the stillness stretched on, the crowd murmured. Before anyone could complain, the Ninja vanished in a puff of smoke. Happy Hour shifted, as though expecting an attack from behind.

It didn’t come.

Instead, Shadow reappeared in the corner furthest from where Happy Hour stood. In one swift motion, she pulled a knife off the belt. With a flick of her wrist, the blade was in motion. The spotlights causing it to glint.

Happy Hour bounded up, clearing the weapon with inches to spare. When she landed, she splayed her hands as though performing a magic trick.

“Nice Throw!” Happy Hour clapped her hands a few times. “Sorry you missed. As a consolation prize, here. A gift for you!”

Jester watched as she pulled out a pastel pink egg from the depth of her basket. With no more warning, she lobbed it towards Shadow. It didn’t get close. Once more, there was a puff of smoke and the Ninja was in the opposite corner.

Gasps rose from the crowd as the egg hit the post, bursting with a solid bang. The explosion it caused wasn’t big, but it spread debris over the arena. He thanked Kylee for that. Splash damage was probably their best bet.

Happy Hour didn’t appear to pay her miss much mind. She spun to face her opponent, her body shifting in that shuffling dance.

Another blade was already in motion. Fast and high, it wasn’t one she could jump. To his relief, she didn’t try. Her body twisting as she leaned out of the way.

“Hey!” she called out as the blade clipped her fluffy tail. “Not my tail!”

Shadow ignored her and grabbed another blade. Without a word, she launched another. This one slicing a patch from Happy Hour’s shoulder.

Jester frowned as another blade flew forward. Even as Happy Hour jumped it, he saw it would have cut across the other shoulder. He couldn’t figure out why? Shots like that wouldn’t end this fight.

While he contemplated, Shadow took advantage of Happy Hour’s jump. She darted forward, her arms outstretched behind her. With her knives depleted, it appeared the sword was her next play.

Her hand rested on the hilt when she came to a stop, staring at Happy Hour.

In her defense, she wasn’t the only one.

Happy Hour was dancing. The simple shuffle steps he’d seen before. However, now she was juggling. That was new. With every step, another pastel egg appeared in her hand. Four of them at once spinning through the air.

The fifth one that joined was different. This one was a bright blue and yellow with diagonal lines. Unlike the others, Happy Hour fumbled this one. It dropped to the ground, rolling away.

“Oops,” she laughed. “Oh, well.”

Laughter and boos came from the audience, though Shadow ignored the complaints. Whatever the Android was thinking, it was ignoring the danger. Though her expression was wary.

Happy Hour shifted her position, and a white paw flicked towards the Ninja. One of the juggled eggs flew forward. This time, Shadow didn’t teleport. She simply flipped to the side, landing lightly far enough away to avoid the explosion.

The crowd voiced their appreciation at the feat of acrobatics.

It took a moment for the black smoke to clear. When it did, Jester looked around the arena. Happy Hour stood in the center. Whereas Shadow was standing on the rope. Balanced with seemingly no effort.

On the ground, he could see another brightly colored shape. Then another.

He laughed, drawing attention from Dam13n nearby.

“What’s so funny, man?” He asked.

“You’ll see,” Jester replied.

“Wow, you’re almost as good at hopping around as I am!” Happy Hour bowed. “Are you part rabbit, too?”

Shadow didn’t answer, but Jester doubted anyone expected her to at this point. In one swift motion, she drew her sword and darted forward. Happy Hour did her best to dodge. However, it wasn’t enough.

Rips and tears covered the rabbit suit. Fake fur flying as the two opponents danced around the arena.

However, he couldn’t help but notice once again no actual damage was being done. The cuts were all superficial. From the way Shadow moved, he could admit she should be able to hit Happy Hour. As odd as her rabbit forms movements were.

Both of them dodged the eggs on the ground. Though Happy Hour almost tripped on one, a stumble that earned her a slice across the stomach.

Through the gap, he could see wood paneling.

Shadow backed off then, her blade still held at the ready.

Happy Hour shuffled about, as though trying to get a read. She hadn’t thrown a single punch in this entire fight. A fact he could hear other players murmuring about.

It didn’t surprise Jester. This didn’t seem like the most combat-orientated garb she’d ever worn.

Then shadow did something strange.

She bowed and sheathed her sword.

Happy Hour waved back.

“Are you giving up already?”

“No.”

The voice that came from Shadow was calm and accented in the exact way he’d expected. Her piece said. She reached behind herself and plucked the overly large scroll from her back.

With a hop, Happy Hour bounced backwards. Her ears wiggling and her nose twitching. One of her large rabbit's feet nudged one egg laying on the ground. It rolled to the side, getting nearer to another one.

Now that he looked, he could see a multitude of them clustered together. All around where Happy Hour now stood.

He frowned at that.

The unfurling of the scroll caught his attention, as the end of it snaked into the air. Once there, it wiggled and writhed. Almost as though it were alive.

Murmurs sprang up from all around him. He could see Dam13n shaking his head.

“This fight is over.”

“Oh?” Jester asked him.

“Yeah, once the capture scroll is open, it’s done. No ones escaped it.” Dam13n shrugged. “It was an alright fight, though.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jester turned back to the arena. “Did it feel off to you, though?”

“No, not really,” Dam13n said. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m being wary for no reason.”

“Try to keep it cool, man.”

“Yeah.”

The end of the scroll darted forward, interrupting their conversation. Happy Hour bounded into the air.

However, it wasn’t enough.

With a crack, the scroll snapped forward and grabbed her leg. It pulled her down, and she landed roughly on the ground.

She struggled as it moved up her form. A snake constricting its prey. The end of it even loomed over her, as though it was about to eat her. Though Jester could see it wasn’t doing any damage.

Not that it needed to.

Shadow was on its heels, her short blade in her hand.

As she approached, Happy Hour stopped struggling. Instead, she laughed. A giggle of excitement. There was a soft thunking sound, too. Metal hitting the mat of the ring. She wasn’t moving her feet, though.

He frowned as he tried to figure out the cause.

“Wow, you got me good! Congratulations!” she called out.

Shadow stayed quiet, though her shifted stance made it obvious what was coming next. A single strike to the head. With no chance to escape, it was a killing blow.

“I’d give you a hand, but I’m kinda tied up. Plus, you know, one’s full. Truly, an eggscellent fight, though.”

That drew his attention to her hand. There was a pastel pink egg clutched there. She was tapping it softly against the ground. Hard enough to create a noise, not to make it explode. His eyes trailed to the cluster of other eggs around her.

“Well, it’s not a loss, I suppose,” he said.

Dam13n turned to him, mouth open, as Happy Hour smashed her egg into the ground.

The explosion of all those eggs going off was louder than he’d been expecting.

Smoke clouds and flashes of light covered the arena. Players screamed as shrapnel flew out of the ring. A few pieces lodging into walls and couches. This made the exploding gun look like a sparkler.

He caught Debrah’s disapproving look, even as she stood to announce the fight.

Her words carried throughout the room as the smoke vanished.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” She called out. “I hope you’ve enjoyed our little exhibition match today! Please, can I get a round of applause for both fights?”

Said fighters were both on the ground. Neither moving and both bearing signs of damage. Jester winced as he stood. He needed to make sure she was ok. Happy Hour’s paws were almost gone.

There was a series of half-hearted clapping as Jester found himself standing on stage. Happy Hour by his feet. Across from him, SilkNightingale was already holding out her hand.

It was shaking, and she was glancing anywhere but at him.

He took it, giving it a single pump before letting it go. Once that was complete, Happy Hour stirred. She’d need healing, but game mechanics would allow her to walk out of her under her own power.

People filed towards the bars. The one maned by Heather proving the most popular. She smirked as she worked. Jester ignored her the best he could. His eyes locked onto the man in the cage.

He’d risen from his seat, waiting as though he expected to be approached.

Jester was happy to oblige.

As he drew close, the man nodded to him.

“Well, it wasn’t the most exciting battle. However, it will do, I suppose.”

“Sure. Give me my cat back.”

“Of course.”

With a small thunk, the cage hit the ground. An annoyed meow filled the air, and Jester glared at the man. Who didn’t seem to care about the hostility directed towards him.

“Our business is done. Have fun at your next bout.”

His words meant little, as Jester watched Happy Hour lean towards the cage. With shaking hands, she released the latch.

Whiskers poked his head out.

Happy Hour flinched back. Almost scrambling to get away from the robotic kitten.

Not that she was fast enough.

Blue eyes turned purple, and Whiskers darted forward with a hiss. Those aluminum coated fangs, biting down on her exposed hands.

Happy Hour screamed.