>>6279396So this place wasn’t always dark… but the locals just accept it. Odd.
“And we,” He concludes with an admittedly-charming smile, “Are in the South! Far South. Not much here aside from a few independent villages-”
“And <span class="mu-r">MIKK…</span>” Hisses your stab victim.
The name sends a chill through the clearing as a deathly silence falls upon the mobsters.
“Muuzi…” Periwinkle grunts as he scans the woods around you, “We don’t say that name in these parts…”
You do <span class="mu-i">now</span>, you reply. Who’s MIIK? The others clam up, but six-eyes… ‘Muuzi’, as he was called, doesn’t seem to get the memo.
“Dweller… in the Deep…” He croaks, still clutching the wound like it’ll kill him, “Lord of the Southern Seas… pop always warned… not ta’ sail too far out…”
Lords, you repeat, savoring the word like a fine wine, so they run the show, huh.
“Yea,” The leader nods, “A-and we don’t really talk about them much, okay?” Taking a steadying breath, he tries his best to regain his confident demeanor. It doesn’t work. “Anywho, smack dab in the middle of it all is <span class="mu-b">CROSSROADS</span>. Big trade hub. Run by a Merchant’s Guild.”
A weary sigh escapes your lips. Your search just got a lot more complicated. Sensing your stress, Periwinkle sends a toothy grin your way. “Getting tired?”
You answer with a long, hard stare. One more thing, you add as you adjust your back’s position on the tree: they’re looking for someone.
Just like that, his smile sags. “Y-yea…”
Who?
“Well,” The boss mutters, weighing his words in his head before spitting them out, “He’s… well he’s kinda like you-”
<span class="mu-i">Anton.</span>
“H-hey, good guess!” Remarks the glasses-wearing goon! You don’t respond. Next question, you drone as you gently finger the trigger, <span class="mu-i">why?</span>
“He made trouble for our boss.” Periwinkle explains, not even bothering lying anymore, “So we were told to track him down and bring him in.” His smile recovers. “For a talk.”
Like they talked to you? The leader laughs.
“A misunderstanding, nothing more!” His expression takes a turn for the serious. “This Anton guy, though… he’s dangerous.”
Amazing. He almost got you to laugh there. They think Anton is <span class="mu-i">dangerous</span>. The man who somehow manages to trap himself in the bathroom on a weekly basis. You never thought you’d see the day.
They think he’s dangerous, though, which means he’s in trouble. Are they the only ones searching? Periwinkle scoffs.
“I WISH. We’re just one team, sweetheart… and only one’s gonna get the finder’s fee.”
So the mob’s hunting Anton. Dumbfuck could write books on pissing people off...
>CONTD. 