Dreamless run; a metaphor into the night; rewind the mind to find.

Now, the detour in the alley was no better a travel route. Believing it to hasten his arrival to present himself, an grandmaster in keeping the oath to arrive fifteen minutes early. Why not arrive an hour early? Had it not gone to plan. In fact, Nuj stumble on an obstacle.

With a filled mind and weapon that is being cured, our hobo was a very, very, very vulnerable man. The carpet was a newly object to him. A weapon shield for the Aladdins. Too bad, this bazaar-fullness cannot think nor have magical properties. What reliable object would be, cast as the cat with powder bags of keg.

Here in this alley was he cheat of the surrounding. A webbing artifice. Dark and wet and overwhelming feast of shadows devouring. Nuj came upon a mural. Hiding in the backgrounds were strange men blended with the paintings. It was not safe to approach and did he went along the lightning lamps that spew a bit of light. Was he deceive also of hidden rouges and had a bit of street fights and grabbing by weirdos; to be choke with fray ropes or metallic strings right from their incredulous abode.

“You pauper snappers!” said he.

It was late. And have he survive the hired hands paid by no other than Pharoh. The boy doesn’t know when to give you a break. Seneth arrive and the tavern was lively, opens the twin door and was greeted by the counter lady. Tabatha inform the list of people until noticing Nuj and the cat was quite dead in presence.

The rolled-up carpet was most unusual carried along the back. Tabatha stump with words.

The tuxedo cat jump off the shoulder, did a back flip and went poof. A hurdy-gurdy and many other smaller instruments waft the back hall, stood a small renaissance theatre, a late afternoon bulletin, a cafe sign, Greet the Greek Geek.

“Romeo, Romeo, must ye let down thy hair!” as it was said from behind the clergy desk. Prince Charming is here acting.

My, how me main enter had draw the attention to those in the tavern. Other than the performance artists and their customers. As if, one who would walk in and requested for the hardest quest for adventurers. Mayhaps a Supreme Dark Knight in armored fashion suits entering the halls of guilders would convince a better visual understanding.

That is how our hobo auctor felt, the stinginess of them eyes, “What?” he said. Assuming the man forgot to zip his pant. Though, the pant had none. The girl was nervous. So was Korimi. Told his new friend not to worry and it gave her a bit of hope. Seneth was not that kind of persona.

Here comes the funny part, I suppose. The hobo interview with the possible future cadets. An abrupt humor contradicted their physical appearances, who they are and their speeches. For I will leave the main threes.

A tootling hurdy-gurdy and xylophone catchy tune, along with the creepy man and a bass-play concertina too. He He He, Ha Ha Ha, Ho Ho Ho, poking out through aesthetic indoor window props, “My wallet!” he said and chase the mice that stole! Let the strange combination ignites the creepy catchy melody. Scented the room was in frangipani and sages.

The third was Korimi Diabolo, wanted to join because of the possibilities a small guild could offer that larger guilds cannot. Fifth was Odessa Lenience. The child wanted to join to find a place to call home. Did her best from a well rehearsed response despite her flaws. And finally, the eighth was Fox Magus. The very same Fox that left Peter and the gang to saved his smogusborg. Declared to join because he wanted to join. A horrible reason at put.

“Can the man be trusted?”

Like all beggars would do, made offer of the milky secrets about Highland and the elvessals if our hobo would have him. And did he did led out some mystery juice. The old man can be reasoned I assure.

“So, when are we hunting for treasure?” Saith this old Fox.

“Beats me. Just thought the name sounded cool.” Something was on his mind. Having a large guild puts you on the radar. However, his fake name is already in one.

“Small quests will not generate enough for whatever your plans are. With your recent activities, your name has been well known. Better yet, why not gamble or buy slaves? Their cheap! I know an auction that sells an awfully amount of the fairest elvessals in the black market. With your name surrounding the top contenders, I assure you, you’re bound to get more than just discounts.” Should I’ve responded?

“D-do have a base of operation?” said Odessa.

Staying with the knights was his temporary base. It will be bad if Korimi had appeared back in the guild he had left, a bad impression of returning. He remember him in his dream. Nuj was considerate of the kobold’s situation and told them of his haven.

“I am going to die in the cold now.”

His foot was freezing. The furry plastic ground was so cold, a human could feel the prickly needles of ice. Still he never did wore any shoes, only half covered bandages. Why? Commoner flashy foot-wears and especially underpants were way too over priced in that country. Beats me, but it is ridiculous!

It was that cold from living in the shadows of the mountain. Don’t be fool. The tavern and the extension home was warm but from where the man execute his interviews, no heat existed. It was the only place that did not charged a good sum of coins. The money he earned from picking wild cherries was drying up.

O they went to his arboreal home. Fox thought it was a joke. Odessa thought it was no different from where she slept. Korimi felt right at home. Started a fire they did and the two child went to sleep on the extended sofa. Scarecrow was used as a pillow by Korimi. Nuj and Fox talked throughout the late night, sat in front of the fire.

“What’s with the carpet and those items your making?” said Fox.

“Strange is it? It’s called fresh soap. I made some a couple of days ago when traveling. O can’t wait to use it.” Seneth show the working alchemy in the process from a newly batch, “Carpet is my pillow for the moment. I am a hobo. What can you expect?”

Hmmm, would’ve it been smarter to make some grassy sandals of some sort? Seneth, O thou fool hardy.

Highland’s future was brought up. Crow listens closely and the hobo shivers, reading the letter addressed to him when done making soaps. He found it strange that someone knew him in this existence. The letter was a direction to a secret rendezvous. Is it a snare laying in wait? Our main wasn’t sure if it was a trap despite the defective strokes in the calligraphy. If it indeed were to be a pit waiting for him, surely it would be more convincing then this.

And on the phantasmal letter, strange unknown writing fluid in characters were presented. Below this ancient cursive, a lone romanji phrase stood out at the foot note: “Mevkbis Qi Talos.” Actual translation as, “One who waits at the end road.” The only person who he knew that known the phrase was . . .

“Sandou.”

It was a dead night. The insect chirped not and all that is to be heard was the braking and pop of damp woods and small branches thrown into the fire.

Sandou was like a shade. Cast lots he is, for what shade he branded, even Nuj knows not. Has he went darken or has the boy pulled his blind back from the night? The more one tends to help, to more shine that is given to him, the darker he cast his own shade. Poor boy was that kind of man. And so Nuj speak in riddles and parables and of strange phenomena, not to confirm his treatment. Ever he do, to tell fables and truths of his passage and of the simple things even you readers will never understand, giveth more. Many cannot and wrongly portrays. Once again as a stronger light shine upon the curtains, the darker it cast its shadows. But if ever light spread arm from within his darken box, so will it lighten up the box. Why force lights through the draped curtains and blinds?

So fellow friends, here is the lesson: Attack not nor ministered to the curtains but for the whole room. When dew is set not apart, the sun is strong and spring has come, curtain will be lift by the caretaker, forever lighten is the cube of his make.

Might it speak the truth; yet it does not say ‘tis the only truth. A wisdom of man.

“Hmnn, it can’t be . . . Fox, don’t mind if I ask you something?”

“Not at all. What do you want to know?” Fox was making a spoon.

“Has there been any legit rumors, very subtle rumors circulating anywhere in the OriginS peninsula about a man who goes by the name, The Phantom Thief? Any similarity would do.”

“Legit? Can’t say I have.”

“Is that so . . ?”

“However, their are subtle news about some disappearance of armies, shady ninja nuns with rifles in the southern Kombunji forest and even a cowlick veteran saving his precious cargo from military deserters wearing high heels. Boy, even a man who wore a giant hat with an eye made the news. Word has it that the man carried a strange dialect to rip and tear space like cracked mirrors. Oh, I almost forgot. The Chicken! The Killer Chicken!! The most feared fowl in Eashen! More frightening than the Killer Whales! I heard the beast is migrating west with the Killer Rabbit.”

“. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .” If only Monty Python was here. The hobo couldn’t believe it, checking the game master’s index just to be sure. He was surprise, “No way.” It seems that the people of the land doesn't notice the game's mechanic of isekai men and reborns.

There is actually a boss known as Schneider, the Killer Chicken and his buddy, Marc Anthony, the Killer Rabbit, located somewhere inside the deepest parts of the Labyrinths, defeating players in matters of humility to the point where one may just guffaw a sad resentful humor. A plain, “I don’t believe it.”

“Chickens don’t migrate, buddy.” said the scarecrow. Crow had to interject himself in our topic. It was comical to the creature.

“Apparently, this one does. Hey boss, if it’s fame, honor and glory we’re seeking, I suggest we win the mind of a skilled tactician. In fact, I personally know one, though he hates fame and I owe him coins.”

The fisherman named him. Living in a remote village as a farmer. The fires cracked.

“And how is a tactician useful for I? If brother are brothers, like as of them to us, will not me soul be as of them? But weary is them that come with a knife for my bread; forgiveness is easy; and tainted me not. If shall a wicked man come with a knife for my bread and in all manner of things, defile the house, and slayed me, and slayed the lambdrakes, and the herders, can I forgive? I cannot dearly forgive even he is of brother that I am in the flesh. As wickedness runs deep below his vein, deeper than his own heart, tainted my mind. And like all defected twig broke away before this fire, will I not cast them into the flame as my tree is dying? And so will my dying tree also be cast into the fire? Will that not make me a wicked man in the eyes of his people if men’s justice would be serve? I do not know.”

“The world is full of problems, Seneth. We make life harder than its already is. To not stand up for our country even if it’s a wondrous good land, it all would be lost for the maddening of the world to claim. Selfless claimed, the power of Want. I seen many guilds these days coward behinds walls of their own. Your guild is the fifth to bring strange events upon I.”

“Even domination has its flaw.” said Crow.

“I get the feeling Elysium has a play in this.”

“Oh, haven’t heard that name in ages. What of them that spark your senses?” said Fox.

“Barely I knew you, and now prying for the mind, eh Fox? Even that name is sketchy with a card in the boot. An inside spy agent to rally an in-just campaign. Rebels is it? What payment did they promise? Then again, ‘tis better to keep them near.” and show I my unmistakable mischief, palm before the chin, fingers doubting the covering of the left eye, and that broken brow before the soft wind.

“My, Seneth. Don’t look at me like that. I assure thee, the interview was plainly the truth. Swear with the right hand of truth. Honestly, there I was, found a suspicious beastwalker running about from a special tunnel. It just caught my interest when peeing and by the time I came back to my senses, the cave was closed and wonder here on my own from this unwanted adventure of mine.” I went straight to explain even without telling a thing I knew of this fisherman who he has claimed to be.

“It is not good to swear, for this world is not your foot stool, nor can you say and so shall it do. . . The man-beast Charles gave quite an insight about the men of Elysium.” Nuj talk without a care stretching the arms and putting dried sticks into the fire.

“Man-Beast? Oh, that recent kidnap, eh.” said Fox.

“The very one. The creature spake many unsettling things though his mouth wasn’t sworn to secrecy. The anatomy, . . . clearly is evident, a parasitic embryo, incubated and . . . assimilated.” Our main threw more sticks into the fire. Seneth wasn’t oblivious to the things that are conferred under the affairs of scientists and mad groups, “When hast the land became a resident of evil? . . . The irony.” He had to chuckle.

“So you would believe they’re a city of crazies?” answered Fox.

“Surly their works giveth away. Scientists do need to get pay after all for their experiments. In this country, you would call and label them to the directory of mad merchants I believe. Though how the realm worded their ilk with the classical merchants isn’t much informative. Why not just called them men of science?”

And on into the later nights, we spoke many things until fainting.

It was in the morning, about nine o’clock, washed their face and all, “Ok, listen up! Our mission is to save enough coins to buy lumbers. Yes, for me to build my house-I mean our base. Korimi, Odessa, go gather food for tonight’s banquet to celebrate this guild’s first mission with these last coins. That should be a simple job for you kids.”

He wanted boast the children’s heart. The two child were indeed happy about the assignment. Nuj’s club was not like any other guilds. A small guild sure has its advantages.

“And me?” Fox asked.

“You and I work dirty jobs. As ants do, labor your own field; for summer will be gone.”

“That’s no fun. I like to fish instead. Tell you what. I will go fishing for opportunities and forage for food. If things get worse, I can always look after the kids. My six sense is tingling.”

“. . . . Fine, head with the kids then.”

“You sure don’t argue a lot. I like that.”

“It’s tiring. Better to argue with a learned civilized man among men than with a child.” Our main yawn and scratched his head.

“Aw, shucks. I never knew I was still young.”

“Happy hunting.” said the hobo as he gave an tilted off salute with the turn of his back.

Seneth shove his hands in his raggy pockets and all four went to do their job to grow the guild. There was three request the lord took from the Autumn Court of Guilds. Two were simple tasks and the last was a delivering of goods to a wealthy man’s night party until . . .

“Pardon my rude intrusion. By the chance, are you the man called Seneth of Treasure Hunting?”

“. . Indeed, I am. What business thou have with I?”

“The name is Domino. My lord would like to request your services. My we discuss on the matter in a private room, please?” Time had passed.

There was enough jobs to keep a man busy throughout the day but never was it simple for our main character. Pharoh was doxing the man. Followed his every move until his chance came. His plan to poison the hobo did not bear fruit and was demoted from the finding of his coupe.

Being humiliated by his father in front of the crowd shook his core and turn to the dark ways, to murder the one who he hate by not dirtying his own hands. One of many readable acts of a twenty to twenty-nine year old, unlearned young adults.

It was eleven o’clock. The sun was shining strong. The angelic muses had sang the people’s song. It was a common market on the holy field. Pharoh’s followers attempted the throwing of rocks. Aim they did at Nuj and accidentally hit the side of Baima’s forehead; who was on the street selling medieval fantasy robots. Man toys that is.

“Fie.” said Pharoh to his ill buddies. They separate. Our main was walking by. Wonk!!!

“Ouah! Hey!! Which punk threw this rock at me! Was it you?!” said Baima scouting the area. The followers did not want their face to be seen and ran away from the open market. The mad boy told his group to execute the second plan in the night.

“M-me? I’m innocent, I tell. ” said Nuj.

“Ah-HA, the most guilty players always speaks first you vagabond!” Baima was furious with a lost of words to convey. How will she going to tell her father this month sales are going to hit in the red.

“Vagabond? What logic is this?! A fictitious article to be label-”

“For your information!”

“But I was right in front of you!” said Nuj.

“Bah! My goods are damaged. You will pay. Get back here, h-hey!!” Seneth ran away from the lady and her strange and simple mecha machineries. To get away from the mildly engrossed onlooking populace.

Stumbling he was with the weight of the roll-up carpet shifting from his shoulder. It had put more pounds on him than he expected. Nevertheless, the hobo escape her iron pans not knowing he, himself was in the dark district. A sonorous district it was. Witches and wizards roam the area freely, and blood-pact scholars practice their outlaw alchemy. O it was not the street for good men.

“So wonder, where is the good church?”

There it stood, an old darken chapel within the misty dew, and came out the kappa monks in rows of twos, twenty-one in total carrying their blob of goo. Alive it was morphing into plant foods. Seneth saw a group headed into the chapel. It was Darrio and his merry band of bandits! He hid behind a blocky lamp post, waiting for his chance to leave the scene unnoticed, step in dog poop without realizing.

From that range, the good man heard them spoke, “Bring words to Canternbarley that I, Darrio, seek and audience with him.” The kappa monk brought them inside the decrypt church.

“Gentlemen, looks who’s here sneaking around?” A voice came from behind the hobo.

“Y-yo-you, ogre-face. Passing by I hope.”

“Tck, Well I am not surprise spaceman remember me.” Mellork pushed him against the post, “I advise you spaceman. Stay out of our problem. It will do good for the both of us.”

“Lets kill him now, Mellork, or our faces will be hang on the barracks.” Was it a whispered near Mellork’s ear.

“Now now, we will do no such thing, Camille. The knights are ever watching this street in disguise. Consider yourself lucky. This is a once in a lifetime to be spare by I . . . and take a bath.” Mellork yank our hobo from the side and he fell. His pack of bambies laughed and headed into the chapel acting as they where on a pilgrimage and bodyguard of adventurers.

“Why does these stuff always happens to me? Being drag into other peoples’ problem and acquiring bad lucks. Do you know anything, sprites?” The sprites reply with a no. Seneth left to the river to wash his foot smelling like poop.

Meanwhile, Darrio met with Canternbarley. The shadow priest came out of the prison mirror after consulting with Calsufur in a jailed cell preaching to Nou of love who was hanged with the horrendous smell of fecals. Luden greeted the self-proclaimed lordly, King of Bandits.

“Oo oh ho, mister merry I, wilt thous’t not pay homage, a tithing to the dark faith? A certain greed you show to our prophet, La-Le-Roum, heee.”

“Quit that snake tongue, . . . Luden.” A presentation of this mad man of the dark faith.

“Fiesty as ever, your arrival must mean you had brought what we seek. Where is the Box of Embers?” said Luden, The Great.

“Stolen by a pygmal thief. You lie to us. The box has no importance to the capital. Yet, a state-thief would dare to steal the priceless instrument from my stronghold. And to send a gyinosha after me when we made a cursed deal between two humans?! Wasn’t that our trust?!” said Darrio.

“Just piety, my friend. Betimes. The bargain still holds true. Have ye not felt death? No? Then will thee not seek of stolen property?” suckling his teeth, “I saith, the value of your sons life must not yearnly weigh for the boat of Want, hoping to be compensate and renewal our dearest contract. Aye, ye know the truth. Calsufur will shred the mighty King of Bandits into two. Why else would thou cometh to I? A merciful lord is am; a savior of the black arts; a reasonable brother of blackness. I assure thee will get the Want before the Wants eats El. He he ha ho ho ho”

“Watched that disdain gawk of yours. I did not come here to hear your vile preach!”

Darrio deal with the shadow man with overlaying battles of words. The monk agreed in an exchange to hold another quarter of his heart. On the ghostly map, a light beacon. It had signify the founding of the box and made Darrio and his guild to accept the mission, and gave the king a devious plan of his own. The Box of Embers, commonly known as Aurekall (Or-cle’l) by the people of the land, was sighted on the boarder of Joyous Spring, heading north to Lasting Autumn in quick paces.

“But first, there is something you must do for me. I’m just returning the favor.”

“What.” Darrio hold his anger.

A change of scenery.

Now we follow Seneth. The path the hobo took to get to the stream was blocked. Avoiding the public was the better choice but now an obstacle was presented, our main had no choice but to enter the town from the side.

And from it was he struck by a weeping child, a boy who have an argument with his unwell mother saying, “You don’t know me! I am going to run away!” The most well known attention-grabbing argument for children, by children, rehearsed by children. The boy knew the strong words would shake the mother’s heart, perhaps not, freshly and cleverness intact in his brain, if only did he knew had it fully became a platitude of pet peeves.

Since not being married and having not so a hard time asking for directions, asked this stingy old man sitting in front of a ice room, to where the stream could be reach. The smell attracted even the noblest of nobles that shop in the district. As it is said, a bad rich is disgusted with the poor and the nasty poor is disgusted with the good poor. This old chap was no angel either. The scent of feral increment was lingering. Beauties in plain was horrified! A disgust to wrinkle the brows.

“What such man would walk with the blight?” they thought, “Ughh,” they said, “Totally.” she said.

It was a beautiful day but an unfair day for our main. A cup of afternoon tea wasn’t enough to rule the nerves. The sense of elevation was great. Seneth arrived at the lower stream. Ever he heave to rubbed his nasty foot. A shear of soapstone the man used as a brush, simmered a fair bit of clean water with shrap pellets of sandalwood, black sands and sticks of dried vanilla. Just common items found in the surrounding. An adventure through the market wasn’t favorable for his position.

The three sprites played around and little Lily notice something out of the ordinary, waved and call out to her daddy, “Hoi-ehhh” and pointed to its retreat. They had shown their formless faces. Music eerily portrays a dark sea floating with debris of color cloths moving back and forth upon the waves, as a ghastly chorus intones. A dipping darkness sank to the bottom of the deep river back below the An. The scenery lighted back up.

“What was that?” Seneth thought. Something below the rift that came to curse Nuj in the tongue of Azalee, fore said by the great serpent. Then pop out a frightening head of a drowned victim and spoke telepathically, “Ie-lrra-Sthae-Mi-Nyya." Goodness, have someone spray aphrodisiac upon him, to lure the dead other than the greedy serpent?

It was an illusion of the senses. The folded letter drop out of the pockets only to be notice after a few minutes afterward. He pick it up but wasn’t fully convince of the nature of writings given to him. Time did pass until Daisy opens the letter, curious of what was written like a little child. Might as well decipher it in latter night. Yea, tonight. Tonight will be good. Prolonged things of importance a bit more until the mind of responsibility kick in.

Then again. The auctor decided to just run for bit. Needed he, a bit of oxygen for the brain. For did the main was sleepy and the bags and lines under the eyes itches. A sadly excuse. Running?

“Am I just running away? Use anaerobic exercises as an excuse though I do feel tire?” He thought.

And went him to the meeting presented in the letter. Mindfully guess of the decoded word, SHACK. The end roads was located in a shack. Time had passed during this strange adventure looking around the area of something that would resemble it fairly.

. . . There . . . it stood. From here will it be first person.

The compromised door was small. A man carrying a carpet will only stutter in confine area. I had to leave it somewhere hidden near the doorway. And sure was, some overgrown grass and overlapped picket fences will conceal the item once disguise. It would only be me and the sprites.

I, the hobo, enter the shack. And so creaks and reeks of age, located on an abandon farmland. A simple lamp in the middle of the basement drawn me in like moths with a will to know.

There was fireflies within the shabby shack. And timidly are those glows of butterflies fettering in the most darkest corners, giving an emergence of subtle peace, yet were they somewhat disturbed. Before long, I would hear another man’s voice. I rue that day.

“Well, O mighty wishing well, me would have not expect our little reunion to be all so cartooning.”

Sandou appears from the corner of the dark room, dress differently than the young boy I knew. No doubt, his voice and speech patterns gave him away. The outer clothing and cloak was of the land of Zanestira. Only did I know of this when Odessa spoke much from where she had ventured. His armor, pant and shoe, no less a special design. The full armored mask? I’m not sure. What about the strange hat with an eye? Probably a cosmetic apparel like in an in-game purchased.

“So you’re that man Fox mentioned. The man with an eye on his hat. How did you--?” Seneth spoke calmly. Sandou laughed away, pop the side of his own forehead once.

“Duh, did you not miss me? Not even a fair well letter addressed to. Cycles in the void clearly have not aged you nor that attitude of yours. My, words has it that your mansion is filled with delights. Silly Seneth, to leave me all along in the other world, your best friend; your only friend. Have thee forgotten? Hidden knowledge had always fascinated me. The day I had gave you the black bible, fortunes smiled upon me. I’ve found it. The boundless book that offers me an even greater power, The Clear Anon. The power to become the master of Babalon Ghosts, a guider of lost souls, a knight of the One, so to speak. And with this inner force, I can transcend time and space that of seven.”

I thought. Sandou must’ve meant a peeping wizard. But if one were to do good, his soul would be good.

“Babalon? They’re my incomplete artworks.” Sandou bubbly burn out a laugh.

“Who cares if they are your personal toys. Never did I sought for this day to come for fifteen years. Why not now? Your world, Seneth, it is beautiful! Too bad I cannot build it. O the Phantom Thief knows better than any political ass. I came here today to make a great and fabulous deal.”

"Deal? For what gain?" Seneth saw a mark, a sign of the cult on his glove. It was indeed the Bowel Cutter Cult insignia. The very same design also shown on the wanted list. Above it, what was strange was his arms. They’re skeletons. And did he smell a bit rotten, a rottenness in the soul that offended the nose.

“Typical. I had expected that much. Do I have to explain every thing?” said Sandou.

“Go home.” My concealed deeds. My picaresque adventures. My unfortunate labels. My wisdom as a hobo. All, had it done no help. To tell the man to return was what I could think of. I was not mad nor was I on edge.

“How rude. Why should I go back? Go back to that filthy world? A place that I had never felt I belong with. You tell me, Nuj. Why would I want to return to where all shame me and made fun of me, took my pride and ethics just so they could be satisfy with their own devilish moray mouths and tricks. I try so hard to survive . . . and everyday . . . everyday I wanted to kill those damn people. I hated that world of three faces! You should know me better, Seneth! You know better . . .” Nuj kept his silent, “For once, I am thankful I have found the clearest of books.”

“We reep and nature sow. To roam this realm is not like you, Sandou. You seek powers. To hold it, it tainted your ilks and has it made you filthy. Are you not afraid of the greater powers that be? I am only a creator, a builder, not one, Sandou. I could not foretell what my realm would do to you other then the cause and effect of your actions. Are you willing to let your story end down that path?”

“We reep how we sow. All roads are dangerous. The three reeps. Wasn’t that you’ve always preached? Don’t tell me, merry old Nuj going to forget his buddy’s effort in finding solace?”

“Us seek peace at our own bargain. I am just—”

“He he ha ha ho, what would Broggy said?! Tell me, Seneth. When had you let shadows grow? An eye for an eye is never the wisest. But, a pen for a pen. I may contempt to take that offer. I like it here if it means to destroy you. Will I claim my peace. Will I claim this world as my own, my Omphalos. Just, like, yours.”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“And to get this greed, you sided with the cult? You’ve changed.” Sandou was much aware that I was looking at the gloves earlier.

“Oh, you know of this insignia.” Sandou looked at his hand, “Enough! I am using them. Offering a bit of help with magiks and all. To know their veins and flows; to know their under markets; to know their rules and hierarchy and from below, I will snatch it all away.”

“Have you not learn anything. To treat them as underclass subjects when those of old know things we do not. Yet, your ego will denied their smarts? You will become no different than some you hate. Turn back. It is not too late.”

“It's already too late.” For Sandou has touched his bone, covering the last of flesh still intact and continue he his answer, “And what about you, Nuj? How have you fare these shameful test of yours? These strange events not of test; these unfortunate circumstances; these strange entities that follows and brings misery; these strange manifestation of hate that do the bearers’ will unjust; do thee not fear the hyenas that come about? And do they joined with the immaterial strangeness that persecuted you.” From that moment I knew, he knows what it was like. Continue he.

“Like old times. Can you tell yourself to go back? Even as I speaketh, they will still destroy your name; post cruel nonsense hoping you will kill yourself; add lies in muddy truth; drive by and follow to ruin your life; sneak in the nights to collect your personal data; listening, virtue signaling, breaking in your home with the life of the videos and pictures; watching on every window; treat you as a criminal in the name of neighborhood justice watch; degrades’ hope that c’you will go crazy; camaraderie to those that speaks ill of you. And in it all, it was just for entertainment. For fun, they said. Oooh, don’t c’you love those thought police? Everyone knows were you live, constant smiling, speaking in a different language to thee and away from, to get a good day. And paranoia becomes a good friend. Hn, hn, hn, hn, hn, hn. The polices are even on the joke. Bwah! To kill a pig by letting the gullible soiled their hands.”

Of the things, 65% he spake.

“Playing the public like a fiddle is one thing, but for a grown man to test and see evil and they do not, is a testimony unto my self of their falsified saintliness. I am not perfect yet joined not with their new-age, precept of men. Do it anger my soul and a hindrance to me networks, my good work. Them casts, never knew I, to say I’m anger at all the people yet known very little. Oh fetter in their own chains saying, they are free. I cry for the weak of heart, tortured in the self, yet the world claim I am a weak man. Do they retort this weakness to the collective conscious, yet too stupid to know they are a part of it. Oh, when the believers says they believe and a miracle happens, they believe it not. Only to doubt. But when a coincidence happen they says it’s a miracle.” And had I follow Sandou’s earlier evil chucks, “Showing a soft side has become a weak ability to men of today’s era. Would they not hate the good man himself too, eh Sandou? He he ha ha ha him, I pity not the lessen fools, religious or not. Then again, I have no right to judge the haters, the clowns and the excess laughing tempters and scoffers. Darma once said: “There are three kinds of people in the world. The first are those who are like letters carved in a rock; they easily give way to anger and retain their angry thoughts for a long time. The second are like those who are like letters written in sand; they give way to anger also, but their angry thoughts pass quickly away. The third is like those who are like letters written in running water; they do not retain their passing thoughts; they let abuse and uncomfortable gossips pass by unnoticed; their minds are always pure and undisturbed.””

“Don’t make me laugh, Seneth! Are you trying to claim that you’re mind is of the this third man?!”

Must I wiggle my index, “You know not what I speak in this statement nor does the world, nor does social media intellectual trendies, nor does the polices and detectives, nor does the readers. ‘Tis personal. A wish is a wish; nothing more and nothing less. None am I. For I’m the second state searching me soul in this third reason. The paths I walked are not for the faint of hearts. How many times have I told you--?” Did the phantom continue.

“And the devils ride your tail. Quite surprising I say. Attracted a whole squadron against he.” There was a moment. Sandou lift his head and said, “No deal it is. Then the question I rephrase. Old friend, as Sandou, may I have your dwfn?” A delirious statement.

And from this moment, know I not what to say and completed my sentences in bits of declipted phrase. I’ve gotten up from my gangster sit-down slowly, returning the favor of his last breaking stereo remark, the shifting and buzz of electronics. Were we in a video? Least my mind calculate, a top quality anime show for one hour?

“The boy who found gold shares not lest ‘tis silver, then again, . . . knew me not. To tell one’s dream; so---” Continue the next line with the both of us until I end it.

“Shall a parrot mock . . . . . No?” I grin. The odd three seconds.

A moment too soon, quickly, I try to flee to the stair. The film cut was executed perfectly of rush.

The Phantom Thief conjured and structure-like braces, broke the cavity of the lowest step. I was stuck in the pending jail chamber without time to think follow by Sandou in the process. Caught me with his right arm, latched hard under my armpit and pulled me with the lost of grounding. Suddenly came the strange uncalculated behavior of attacks and went his elbow striking unto my collar bone. My stature drop and a force dented the decapitate floor. Still have I no footing of this x0.70 speed slow down.

“Gathering simple intelligence hasn’t change it seems. O it doesn’t matter to me!” Sandou attacks again.

Not once he let me to recover from a flinching guard. It was a sinister move meshed with karate-shadowboxing and throwing tantrums. Truly, was I vehement thrown to the slanted wall then roll away when slammed. A mockery of hefty work that he came after me with that sonic hand! Since I move, his Aura Arte was stuck in the wall. Yet it mattereth not to the phantom as I see him on my fall to the floor creating distant. Sandou took his power-covered hand out with little resistance. The walls cracked and eluted, pieces turns to dust, bristling metal parts curl outward, and this strange phenomena of prickling space deteriorated and spilling some lightning effects. What that is leftover was not destroyed, hearing voices of a haunting dirge, lamented in opera singers and dead chorus lines that in which spiked the senses in total strangeness, in likeness of creepy after taste.

I have to think fast. Roll I the die of the sprites. That Auto-Trait I read a bit about. So it was located on the bottom left screen. Change it from dice one to dice three. How is it possible too see without the veil on? Will I explain it later.

Tulip and Daisy be as Seneth. Lily be as devious, came out of me and morphed. Startle the phantom with an exclamation mark above his head. Sound effect, imagine it from the Metal Gear series.

The distant was not suspected and did I retaliate with the help of the three sprites. The ailment should’ve been set and occurred but see no changes to whatsoever Sandou’s state. Still was he targeting the sprites until locating me out of the two at ease. I was shock. This fast?

And did my signature foreplay came, Sync Foresight! Me syncing was different from the rest. It was more similar to being a seer but had subtle differences containing MMORPG elements and game nuggets. Isekai man’s ability have more base data and histology.

Let it be known. Sync Foresight is not obscured only to the mask. It is natural for isekai men, if willing to uphold the nature of game. Even if it is not to their taste, so will this game gift not be given. It is a choice, free agent. For when a True Veil named you as its master, who’ve been summoned from another world, reborn from another world or traveleth from another world; so will you gain some of its attributes in the mind’s eye. It is a test of the self. As the mask seeth ones’ agony, a harsh road fill with many pot holes and great obstacles, will it tag along, regardless. A clear whisper, a subtle voice, the clearer notion a person would get in the gut, whatever it may be, to be warn of disasters coming in the next step.

It was as shown. Simple and simplify. The mask that Sandou wears has the ability to resist magical ailments at +150%. Well, from being null or full-graded resistance, either is still OP. That explain the magical ailment, Confusion didn’t work. We fought on until Tulip and Lily’s Health Points reached zero.

Disperse out I fledgling combos and pin-point fist contacts, zip away Sandou’s tricky fist fights and holds with Daisy as backup. Oh boy, he was more of a sumo wrestler with the skills of in-cage fighters and hand combats of advance boxers. Daisy was hit hard in the thigh, flip froward unto an old treasure chest as big as she was. Her Health was low. Fighting a mix martial artist Rambo is very odd. I would’ve believe to be in Abraham’s bosom by now.

There was no choice to escape when confronting Sandou. He was a level 94 character. Though contrary to belief that this game world follows, I was not stuck on the matters of exchange. Fellow children, here is I, living in a mixed media of art not particularly incise with just game mechanics. It is a matter of life and death in a hardcore fantasy era.

I unleashed battle arts. When Daisy went up and grab the phantom’s back, thrust I in position with the spinning fist of fate. I change the dice to one and smack hard the phantom with the back end of the fist. A Trick Stance activation into another technique. Sandou did not fell but went bit of a tumbling walk. Once Sandou notice that I was coming, just five feet from him, from x1.00 to x0.60 speed mark, with the unspeakable grounded wind-ups, I heard some kind of slight shuffling sound Angry Joe was making.

From a mouth-filled flying b-boy guillotine reversed tech spinning flashy archangel Micheal special spacial kick out-of-existence somewhat of a roundhouse spin, follow the shew of dusts, with radiate lights of sprites and fractal lights flew out from guess momentum, missed not just once but twice of this abortive tech. For such that the camera had to be in my face, slowed, that I embarrassingly lose the bet.

The glow of butterflies and fireflies in the shack flew among the congenial arts. ‘Tis the ending of summer! Had he out-think me of his own fallacious stances and arts?! What chicanery is this? A Trick Stance skill too?! No way!! Don’t copy me! Last of this is going to be the game’s meme. Did I not went empty handed, knock away his mage hat. My vulnerable bod was expose and came his shuffling hand combos.

“Ai-yahhhh!” Me hobo cried in the likeness of old Cantonese kung-fu flicks. I am for real. His art skills or some auto-traits of his must have some ability to slow action speed down.

Was I knock back with my feet in the air, crashed, laid upon the back end of a wooden desk. The dust shewn from this personal multi-tech wind-up “A-Do-Kin” punch to the chest, a hint of sister Street Fighter.

The battle just got tense. Sandou’s hand gesture, control, whatever it is called, waited not and from a grounded leg swipe close his distant to me as his roaring mighty leg wind-up in the momentum, raised high above me with powders. More in like of a barbaric prance. Coming down it did, this right foot of fate that would stomp me in tumultuous pain, his follow up. I couldn’t block naturally with my legs, ninety degree from his position.

Lucky for this main talking to you, the trait activated. The attack was blocked by Tulip! It was just one second away but let it not bother me when regained my foot hold. The pace of battle continues for minutes.

You could say it was a jump, a frontal flip, or a get up. I say like always, a maneuver that can’t be describe. Me leg trip Sandou, but wakeful and aware was him to control his falling posture that would only ended at his knee dropping. The plated floors crack. Now was my chance.

By this time, I was up from a secondary get-up. It did no good to me when Sandou strike a couple of times forcing this hobo here to defend himself from a flutter of the phantom’s own footwork. My pants became partially soften. A rip was about to happen sooner or later.

A frontal assault to Sandou’s side was not so bright when I came falling back down into a breakdancing flare. He caught me and force his spacial aura hand directly under the chin. Holy dunes! I was in a dangerous disposition. Got no chance with shocking skills at my throat. I have to think of something fast and the only intelligent reasoning I could come up with was the mask. Yea, my own fortunate morbidity for the moments; pull the mask from under to the face, crooked, just enough to cover the soft flesh of the neck. The phantom’s hand slid. A fain trade.

Had I no time to wear the mask in the middle of catching my drift and shove the veil quickly. Just when I turn, Sandou trick his position, got to my blind spot and tackle me with the force of man who’s about change his stance once more, to give me an unorthodox German supplex! Oh hell no!!

Eight minutes had pass. Change die to three. I need to get out of this lock of his now!

Tulip and Daisy surprise Sandou. And went he to defend himself from them. Lily broke and stable my fall from below. I technically change pace, and a fighter’s pounce yield I not. Another frontal assault from two knee kicks. One then two and then I was in his blind spot low at waist. A one-eighty half spin out from behind and wrap his right arm over his head from a side, twirl and drop the Phantom Thief down with his back, sending shake effects upon the ground daunting camera. Three shot payback.

Sandou would’ve gotten his left right at my face and slam me to the floor. I was grateful, Tulip locked the left arm ahead. Knocking him out and then leaving the area would be a better plan. And in the fall, in these three seconds of action scene, a slim creature made of cement crackling emerges from the ground. It hold Sandou’s posture then the object split and grew incredible reach.

It was a craving auspicious crocodile mouth aim at biting my right joint that is, “This is bad.” Verily, the sec slow, death lurked near. I have no choice again and broke contact. Because of this anomaly, Tulip was defeated when Sandou took control, came for the killing blows for the both of us, daring. Lily intervene with her puppet strings, sub-divided, in which had it attached to Sandou’s left leg. I was hurt badly and Daisy rectify her acrobatic mode, likely to survive hits.

There was a delay in his silent cast, earth-type spell. Follow the head of the crocodile came another layer of monotonous molten cracks, magnetic eruptions and sprinkle of lava. In the theatrical act of a teenager’s agria. I didn’t know the sprites would be playing “The Floor is Lava.” Lily was destroyed, no, was finished by the flame when Sandou pulled her into the lava pit. It’s Daisy and me once more.

Sandou attacks and odium I for many uncertain scenarios. Has he lost his mind? Certainly the damage was mitigated by the two return sprites moving the body in the process. Has it help me to survive this unforgiving sacrifice. To not become a grandpa with back pains. Sandou’s frenzy chops and undercuts from angles did he barrages and headbutted me downward. I lost my footing. Falling upon my knee while he continuously fought Daisy, presto combat and body works. Snap and flash the room in similitude of bengal lights.

The moonlit butterflies flew. The fireflies immolated.

Yet, he couldn’t take me over for the minutes. As a fighter, a dreamer, an artist, a gamer, a customizable player, a hobo-on-wheels, a writer, was I sui generis. A quoth a man should not boast to boot.

“You think I can’t see those sprites?!” Sandou spiral his left hand, used that sonic boom of his. My right leg twitched and the he power slap little sprite Daisy into the old dusty bookshelves. The shelves came falling down.

“Becoming human made you a weakling. To think you lost majority of the knowledge beyond the universe. Pray that you are not ignorant, Seneth. It was I who lure Champity Champ Charles to you. Fools who want powers are easily control. Same goes for that idiotic leader Calsufur who lusted for that damned elf! Oh mini me. What I meant was elian. Lock her up again and again and now, again. I might as well get my own harem in this world.” Sandou got up from his squat from his pleasurable talk, grabbed me by the jacket. I quoth after him in response.

“A single’s group of fair sororities after a specific beefcake is the best, the better choice of the year.”

“You and I. A forsaken artist and me, the magnificent bastard. Aren’t we not of the same pod?” Killjoy Sandou understood not the joke that differentiate from the word, harem. Not sure if the boy knew of its full meaning. Everything about him from chapter zero, he swapped, did a 270 degree spin for the sake of Want after obtaining power. Peradventures, it was a joke on his term.

“Tell me. What have thou done in seven years?” Sandou question me.

I answer the critic, “. . . Searching. Aren’t thou not aware who hast been snared by the Want spider? For fifteen years, fifteen of precious cycles wasted. Your probation is shortened. Listen to yourself, my friend. You’re getting old in the spirit, . . . and so am I. The trials endured-”

“You know me not. Seven years, those long gritty seven years of servitude. I will get my Omphalos whether the Yoma Heart comes for me! Your children betrays you. Made your world into a video game. A perfect place for me. I had nothing. Nothing I tell. You’ve no right to judge me!” And did the phantom lock me in his arts, thrown me around and twist my hardcore blocks. I stop him once, out of the fourth tried biting my lower lip.

“I have the only right. As a person; no presidents, no leaders, no saboteurs, no carnal men does.” To utter surety, the boy was judging me. I’m no augur. A dimensional vibration, glow on the right glove that had the mask man strike. He intended to murder. Did we proceeded to entertain, a discord of unmarked performances.

Once I knew the man was prone to attack in patterns, a showsman of gamers, who play and activate skills in the most repetitive patterns, to optimize and get the most out of, did I try my best to stop his knee. Literally to halt his choreographs seen in Wing Chun styles of fighting. Truth be told, it didn’t help much in the anime world and came he in close combat. Without firm shoes to hold my posture, I slip from a slippery substance nearby. Was I doom.

“You died for naught, Seneth!”

There was no choice and took the Mask of Unfortunate Blessings from under the shirt, throwing Sandou off his game combos. But before I could fully put the veil on, he grab me by the wrist and pull away the face.

“Nobody wants you, . . . . Nuj!!” When all was lost, in the moment of the strike, told him I did directly, right at the phantom’s mask, point blank.

“This world dies when I depart!” Sandou hesitated and missed, lunged in the old damped wall. The phantom denied the incredulity. Knowing Sandou, did him gave some slow deprive thought. I made him flare, the pause, that wildly burned. Turned he, my old acquaintance, my old friend to attack an object near I to let out his frustration heavy in scream and above all else, my other name. It was a while before he would calm down but the hand ever twitches strangely.

Back to third person, probably.

Our main had never lied to Angry Joe before nor knew when he was lying. In fact, the man never did intended to lie to the boy even in the old world. And in that silence, hearing the sounds of soft booms brushing and popping in the air and ground. The waft of winds blew a humming hymn and the solace of lights etch in the shack made a noise for the first time.

A group of decorated knights wearing brocades patrolling the southern boarders heard some strange chatter, heavy burnt smokes and came to check the shack.

Sandou say, “. . . Well, you got me.” He knock his head, “Broggy was right. Is that the only excuse?”

“The Creator don’t lie, Sandou, nor is he stupid. After all, . . . I’m just . . . a Creator.”

Sandou disappear from the basement after some talk of strange events, pick and fixate the one-eye hat upon the noggin. Nuj can finally rest, kneel at one knee to catch breath.

“You and your loose tongue. Who the heck is Broggy?! The sister was taken again?” Our main sighed, completely laid down, spread out, wiggles the toes and digits to loosen. Gasp he.

The patrol knights went in the shack in response to the falling of the shelves and black smokes. Surprisingly, they found the hobo instead of monsters and the room smell awfully like sulfur. Saw the sweaty Nuj on the floor all mess up and wonder why he is there. Our main simply answer in pain.

“Fighting my alter ego friend.”

Back at the haven, Fox and the children defeated Pharoh and his group that came in the night.

“Mark my word! I get c’you some day!” Off the baddies went. Korimi and Odessa were hiding in the haven, at window just recently. Fox did most of the work teaching the baddies a harsh lesson of reality giving them a taste of raw oozy fish. They wonder where Seneth was.

And so he came through the bushes. His stench was great. Greater than Korimi’s and did the beast boy’s nose picked up the scent.

“Did you have an accident?” Our main spake not. Coming out of Korimi’s mouth was not satisfying at all. Gave the beastian a rough knock upon the furry noggin, so shall he remember of his own faulty weakness. The grandiose group decided to head to a spa station for a great and awesome bath, courtesy of Lloyd’s father who met them on the sub-road with his family from a late summer’s harvesting trip.

“It’s the least we could do for saving my son and daughter’s life. Worry not about the payment.”

The father give them two of their leftover free spa pass along with some addition of oranges. The rest, the father was willing to pay for. Odessa was by herself but the mother Missy kept her company with her daughter, the baby boy, and an infant who is newly introduce, who the mother give suck.

Some couple of minutes had pass when the gang had settle for the day.

“Awwwwwwhhhh” Felt so good just to dip in the spa before scrubbing and wash-up but dirty the hot water, “I think this will do for now.” Fifteen minutes had pass. Seneth walked back to scrub, clean, and rub-a-dub-dub before heading back into the outdoor bathhouse.

The beast boy had a strange odor on him. The best description was an unwashed animal digging in dirt for six months, had the slight smell-like feature of dry overlay-fuzzy-outer sickness stench, a man who bathe not for five months wearing the same soiled underwear. All with a bit of clean cheap cologne to masked the unwanted smell under hand-washed clothes yet the water wasn’t fully strained when dry. Only a small hint in it of course.

Hmm, the procedure here, Korimi did cleaned very well but no matter how hard he tried, this perfumed liquid did not clean but only masked the unwanted scent and as one who will sweat and oiled up from this item, their own skin and especially the scalp when the brain is strained and seep out, it is a sure tell sign to smell worse after the used of this liquid.

Now, for me being a somewhat sapient hobo, I do not like attacking others carrying evil by the demon’s lip mimicking wagon jumpers, intellectual trendies and butt showers do. So pants up. Unless you enjoy being funneled in prison. Monkey see, monkey do; monkey made a fool of you. A sophisticated, educated man would preached this to a national culture idiocy.

First up we talk about this strange shampoo. On I give many technical teaching of the best-to-clean body substances for the most simple; dirt, odors of fatty oils, especially within the scalp and sweat build-up, long furs and more as I went down the line.

And proceed I to give a bit of my homemade soaps and shampoos that everyone can simply make that clean a whole lot better than those faked overprice liquids. Some to the ladies included. Made from the items I bought from that cheat-filled merchants. The plant and nut oils I worked on sure went well with the ladies. They were most surprise of the effectiveness when the oil touched their hair. Surely there are soaps and shampoos in this world of illusion. Mainly for Nobles and those that can afford such a price tag. At most, I did some good.

A huge bar of scented soap? Fox thought Seneth was some genius, to make a man’s size soap super large but for the women, firm and the standards. Well duh friend, knowing men, they are most concern about the sizes of their best pals, so make soap large. As it is to women concerning about sizes of their breasts, make it firm and standard. This trade comes in handy. And who says making soaps and shampoos a women’s profession?

The learned use what he learns; a unlearned studies to get good grades.

The bathroom fight brought me to think more about the past. It would be better to release some tasteless memories then to hold it in the mind’s dam. I spake while scrubbing Korimi’s furry head. Likely it is a story pertaining to him but clearly not as of him in his faultiness. I am not that kind of man who teach wrongly. And with the shade that Korimi had cast, a small light is all it needed to lighten the room. Clearly many, an abundant of men doesn’t know how and does it anyway. To man-up is not the wisest philosophy that a person could teach. Lest one loves to live in a dog-eat-dog world. Vaguely, I speak these things.

Story of encounters was the good choice to past the time of washing. Perfect. So I proceeded gradually in story telling that got the beastian to grip his knees. And following the ending of the first, went I to another about a girl who committed suicide from a shame of her nude pictures stolen by hackers. How the world loves enjoying your death as long as no knows what is in their closet. Sadly, the world is filled with evil. Had it brought Odessa to grip her knees, though I knew not until Missy told a bit to I in latter time. It spark something about her about the multiple scars on her palms. I should’ve seen it coming that day. Telling the whole story will only put on the ridged path.

“When the world deem what you are for whatever reason, how many crumble before the lies? Lest it was a small, yet muddy truth, what does one do when the world enjoys your suffering?” said Nuj, “Surely, they will add their own lies into the mix and things of which they believe one to be. To quench, to be merry of his defeat. Why shy away. When what you can take, they can’t and calls you crazy. For it is the crazy that builds world and the sheep follows and says, I build the world.”

“It is hard to believe, Yinef. But isn’t wearing a mask makes you, you know, s-fhy?” Korimi brought up the question about the mask standing in front of the wash walls.

“Ahhhh.” Nuj was stump. A hardening stabbed. So like any anime protagonist, knock them in the head comically. Thump!

It took a while for Nuj to come up with a response. Lucky, spending some time scanning through uninteresting literatures has its merits. Continue he, “Don’t look at me. I don’t know what I’m talking about. Who says that such a mask made me weak? For many knows me not. I wear it to fight my own cast veils. Surprising is it? Many would do such a thing to put on our own armor to protect our self from harm. Is it not? Just as a women who puts on her make-up to walk the street with confident; so do we, put on our armor to have protection, courage, a good omen and so. A pendant, a handkerchief, a bullet-will-not-hit-me sash. You named it. But it takes greater courage to take none.”

Then wonder Nuj of the realization, “Ahhhh, I just degraded myself. . . Anyways, ‘tis not wise to bleach a dying dog; to make his coat white and to lessen his probation. An unlearned man pour bleach in fine manner to make him clean; and so, the meek beast dies.” That should cover for his mistakes.

“Mommy. What is Lloyd talking about?” said the sister and replied Missy, “It’s a guy thing, sweetheart.” Odessa spoke up a bit from the women’s bath. It was a divided outdoor bath.

“S-seneth, w-will you be my luck then? Will you then?” and I replied after a pause not sure what she meant. The reminiscent of my spiral contours he have drawn on Korimi’s head.

“Sai has lost his horse.” Everyone was at a loss. And this chapter is turning out to be a life anime show. Lloyd and Suzzy wanted to hear a story about it. Now, children of this era are fascinated by storytelling. Today’s world are not really fond to the memories it holds. Too glue to their gadgets and destruction reign down their seeds.

This is how the story went.

“Sāi Wēng lived on the border and he raised horses for a living.” Korimi responded, “Like a gryphorse?” The beastian had never seen a regular horse before.

“Exactly. Ahem. Where was I? One day, he lost one of his prized horses. After hearing of the misfortune, his neighbor felt sorry for him and came to comfort him. But Sāi Wēng simply asked, “How could we know it is not a good thing for me?” After a while, the lost horse returned and with another beautiful horse. The neighbor came over again and congratulated Sāi Wēng on his good fortune. But Sāi Wēng simply asked, “How could we know it is not a bad thing for me?” One day, his son went out for a ride with the new horse. He was violently thrown from the horse and broke his leg. The neighbors once again expressed their condolences to Sāi Wēng, but Sāi Wēng simply said, “How could we know it is not a good thing for me?” One year later, the Emperor’s army arrived at the village to recruit all able-bodied men to fight in the war. Because of his injury, Sāi Wēng’s son could not go off to war, and was spared from certain death.”

“Count your blessings. I like that.” answered Fox, but I simply said, “Of fox and kin, you know me not. The guild will be your luck, Odessa. I have a bimbogami chasing me for the moment.” Gee, I wonder what that is. A regular bimbo? I hope not.

It was the latter end of the bath halls. Closing time was in due. It was refreshing and we headed out in happiness and split off with Lloyd’s family. The father and the children head home first since the children are quite sleepy. Missy was with Odessa, taking their time dressing so the guild decided to wait outside with the fireflies. A reminiscence of guys and girls night out with relatives, right? A portion many of course.

Thirty minutes past. Seeing Missy came out to address her lateness that Odessa wanted to dye her hair darker. Fox went through three large bottles of muscle milk.

“Wasn’t her hair dark from the beginning?” said Fox.

“Gray splits? Huh.” said Nuj.

“May I say?” So Missy talked of wonders. With Fox hearing as well, I was surprise he can keep it a secret.

“I see.”

“. . . I’ll be heading home. Good night, Guild Master Seneth.” Missy left. Odessa came out puffing the hair. The cold chills her concealed warmed neck that made her shiver a bit.

“It’s about time, Odessa.” said Korimi. The side street was fluster with fireflies. Had the Lord of Hobos forgotten what was on his mind. Lost hold of the mask when trying to put it on to avoid accidentally swallowing the little critters. Suddenly, the man remembers.

“Sandou is here. Where are the rest lurking . . .” And to see a man taken under custody by the royal knights along the main town road in a jail carriage, had our main hero went physically silent the moment the accused saw his flesh face.

“Gregory?”

From Sandou to college buddies. What of now?