John sighed, kicking his feet up on Ryu's desk. The man twitched in irritation, but he was professional enough not to react. John nodded and put his feet back down.

The head of Yakuza just shook his head. "You do understand that at any minute, I could let my security through that door, and you would be dead, no?"

"Yeah. I know."

"Then why do you act so flippantly?"

"Because you need help. Right?"

To his credit, Ryu didn't react. He did pull his chair back in order to face John at eye level, but other than that, there was nothing.

"And why is this of concern to you? I see you wield my brother's blade. Is that all? You came to flaunt your victory over me?"

"No," John said, shaking his head. "You won't be accepting the thousand gold coins no matter what happens, right?"

"That is correct. I will be taking Zuko's masterpiece for myself."

To Ryu's surprise, John let loose a little snicker. Another laugh. Then, full-blown laughter, kicking back in his seat, laughing so hard that he actually fell back and crashed into the floor. He picked himself back up, trying to calm himself down.

"Sorry, sorry. It's a decent trope, even if it is occasionally overdone."

"Trope? Overdone?" Ryu frowned.

John just shook his head. "Look, even if your brother hadn't told me, I would've guessed it anyway. You're a family of blacksmiths. Good blacksmiths. You have honour, pride, yada yada. You left your clan because you weren't good enough, right?"

"You-"

"Ok, good to know I'm right. The point is, you never tried anything dirty. Never tried to cheat. Zuko made it clear. You weren't expelled, you left of your own volition. Then, you went and founded the Yakuza, the biggest non-government organization in Gaius. That's pretty much all he told me."

Ryu frowned, his hand now on his blade. "Then why are you telling me all this?"

"Because it doesn't add up. You have an ego. A big one. You left a traditional, honourable blacksmithing family to make something of yourself because you felt you couldn't keep up, no?"

The silence that followed was enough of an answer.

"I don't know what it is. Blacksmithing isn't your strength. You couldn't keep up with your brother. Whatever. But you never tried to cheat, never tried to disgrace him, and so one of two conclusions can be made. Either you still love your brother, despite having cut off contact with him, or you just are that honourable. Maybe both."

"He is my brother. We may have our differences, but we are blood," Ryu grunted. "That is enough."

"Good, good. I don't care." John poked Ryu in the chest with the sheath of his sword. "The point is, you have honour. And besides, you have this entire empire to yourself. You aren't the kind of guy who would go after his brother's most valuable possession, right?"

"No," Ryu said. "I will take what is his. It will be his turn to learn what disgrace, his turn to learn what it is like to be at the bottom-"

John raised his hand, cutting him off. "You're not convincing anybody. If I was just another [Character], maybe, but you're speaking to someone who's already seen through the cliche. I just explained everything, and you're still keeping up the act?"

Ryu just stared at the boy in front of him. A young human male, dressed in baggy clothes, reminiscent of what he wore when he lived on the streets. His hair was uncombed, he wore no accessories, had nothing to declare a status of any kind. And, from what Ryu knew of humans, this male was especially young, meaning he should be immature. Rash. Uneducated in the world's ways, still learning, still fumbling around.

And yet Ryu sensed danger. On the surface level, there was none. John seemed to be the type of character Ryu portrayed himself as: rash, bold, hot-headed and violent. He did what he wanted, spoke what was on his mind, and paid no attention to others. This kind of character was a fool. Fools were easily taken care of.

And yet, beneath the act of a clown, there seemed to be something far more dangerous, like a ticking time bomb hidden in a child's toy.

"I told you, I've got it all figured out. You're taking Zuko's shit because you have to, not because you want to. In fact, I think it's a bigger blow to your pride that you're taking it in the first place. If anything, you'd want to prove your superiority on your own, right? This makes it a cheap win," John explained.

"Who told you this?" Ryu said quietly. He'd given up. He didn't know how to deal with this human anymore. "One of my attendants? My closest aids?"

John frowned. "Huh? Did I not say this already? I guessed."

"Guessed?" Ryu exclaimed. "That is impossible! Are you a seer? A prophet? One does not just guess-"

"I'm tired of explaining this," John sighed, pushing his chair back. "You can believe me, not believe me, I don't care. The point is, I need to know. Who pushed you to do this?"

"Nobody," Ryu said, crossing his arms. "I told you. It is of my own will."

John groaned, pacing back and forth. "You stubborn old men are gonna be the end of me…"

In his mind, though, he was already going through a list of possible suspects. Lupin was the first, given that Destiny had brought him up. Upon further reflection, it couldn't be him. It made zero sense from any perspective. Then what? Bandits? The government? Sure, those might be options if John were a detective.

But he wasn't a detective. He was a [Reader]. And there was only one possible answer from the perspective of a [Reader].

"The demonic cultists," John sighed. "Alright, let's wrap it up."

Unfortunately, Ryu's reaction was not what he was expecting. Before he could even move, he found a blade pressed against his throat. A single movement would kill him.

"You were sent by them. It makes sense now," Ryu growled. "Not a single movement, or your head comes off."

"I was- what the hell? How is that the conclusion you came to?" John exclaimed.

Not a drop of fear could be found in his voice. In fact, he sounded more annoyed than anything.

Still, Ryu didn't let up. "You know too much. It makes sense."

"I know too- did we miss the part where I said I was guessing?"

"Silence!" A drop of blood was drawn. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"If you're gonna call me a liar, I might! Hell, I might say worse things than that! Are you gonna get this sword off my throat?"

There was a moment of silence. Ryu seemed to be considering something. John just continued to stare him in the eyes, a bored expression on his face. There wasn't even a hint of tension in his body.

Finally, Ryu grumbled, withdrawing his blade. "You are a foolish young man. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Yeah, all the time. Now, let's get to business."

Ryu shook his head. "No. Not here. Not now."

"Not- what?"

Ryu grabbed John by the shoulders and turned him toward the exit.

"It is like you said," he whispered, continuing to direct John out of his office. "The cultists are behind this. I do not know why they need my brother's creation, but it cannot be for a good cause. However, I alone cannot do much. Come tomorrow, three in the afternoon, meet me in front of the stage house."

John nodded subtly. "Why trust me now?"

"My brother would not give his blades away so easily. The fact that you hold it means you either strong armed it from him, or he gave it to you willingly. You did not fight me, which means you would not have strong-armed it. And he would not have given such a craft to one with ill intent."

"Then why didn't you trust me before?"

"My men have been infiltrated. A number of them are cultists, not true Yakuza. The men who went to my brother's house, for example, and demanded his protege. Those are not my men."

"Got it. I'll keep an eye out for them."

John nodded again, opening the office door. Immediately, half a dozen guards raised their weapons, but Ryu raised his hand.

"He is my guest!" he commanded. "Let him go."

In that way, John left the casino unharmed, but not before making a few faces at the guards. They reminded him of dogs on a chain, desperately wanting to bite him, but unable to do so.

~~~

"...and that's what happened."

John finished the explanation in his dorm room. As he was now child sized once again, Prota reached up and hit him on the head.

"Stupid," she muttered.

"What? I'm unharmed! What are you talking about?"

She just looked at him. John shook his head, making a disgruntled sound.

"No, I'm not giving up on this one. It worked. I thought it would work, and it worked. What was so bad about this?"

Prota just sighed. She had to admit that he was right and such a job wouldn't have worked if she or Destiny were there. Still, it wasn't over yet.

Cultists. Once again, they were the threat they had to deal with.

"John is going?" Prota said quietly.

"Well, yeah. You're coming along too, don't worry. I need firepower for this part."

She nodded, pleased that he wasn't so stupid as to go into a dangerous situation alone. Yes, it was just meant to be a talk. Neither suspected Ryu of backstabbing them. But if cultists were mentioned, then they were definitely going to crash the talk. It was just how things went.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

It would be nice if they didn't. If they could just design a plan, execute it, and leave happy, then that would be ideal. But given how well everything had been going up until now, there was no way such a thing would be allowed.

"Destiny?" she asked.

"Is he… I mean, he might come. I'm not inviting him, though. I sent him a letter explaining what's going on tomorrow, and what might happen," John said, scratching the back of his head. "I don't want him meeting with the boss guy. It's best if they don't know he was a spy. What he does is up to him, now."

Prota nodded. It made sense. Besides, it seemed that John tried to leave Destiny to his own devices these days. Yes, they occasionally got involved, but they were far less impactful than they'd been in the Town of Beginnings.

"Alright. Here's hoping- actually, I'm not gonna say anything." John looked at his hands, then closed his eyes. "Let's just do our best."

~~~

Game time. John had shown up in a suit once more. It wasn't out of respect or anything. It was just that wearing his usual clothes in such an environment would attract unwanted attention. He wasn't stupid enough that he'd be stubborn for the sake of being stubborn.

Prota was dressed for the occasion as well, wearing the same dress she'd worn to meet the king and queen of the Elvish kingdom. Her cloak covered a good amount of it, but you could tell she wasn't being a bum.

"You came," Ryu said, standing at the entrance to the portal. "And you look much younger."

John shrugged. "I had good makeup on yesterday."

"Hm."

Now that he wasn't exhausted and nervous, John got his first good look at the head and founder of the Yakuza. He looked young. Slicked back hair, perfectly combed, with a similarly pristine and spotless face aside from a single scar running down the man's right eye. However, upon closer observation, the blackness of the hair came from a dye, not a natural colour, and the skin was a little too smooth to be naturally that way. Makeup was probably what hid the wrinkles.

After all, this man wasn't much younger than Zuko, the old, grey haired man who shuffled along with a cane.

Still, you wouldn't be able to tell if you were talking or moving along. He was slouched, not like an old man, but like a delinquent roaming the streets. Attendants bowed as they walked to a balcony booth reserved just for him. Ryu pressed his thumb onto some kind of device, and the door unlocked for him.

"Got a good organization," John commented, looking around.

"Thank you. It is the result of my blood, sweat and tears," Ryu replied, sitting down in a red velvet chair.

"Why do you act like… that, by the way?" John frowned.

"...a stain on my past," Ryu said quietly. "From my youth. However, the organization has come to respect this character, and so I must keep it. Someday, I will… no matter."

He motioned for John and Prota to sit down next to him.

Ryu nodded toward Prota. "And who is this?"

"My sister. Also my bodyguard," John said simply.

"Your bodyguard?"

"I'm manaless. Did I forget to mention that?"

Ryu frowned. "You mean to tell me my men were defeated by a manaless boy? A manaless schoolboy." He let loose a short, barking laugh. "Very well. I failed to obtain your name. You have mine. May I have yours?"

"John Quarta," John said, extending his hand for a shake. "My sister is Prota Char."

"It is good to meet you, John Quarta."

They grew silent as the curtains of the stage drew back, and the play began. It was a story of a hero defeating the Demon King. Ironic, in a sense, but then again, the tale of the hero and Demon King was one well-known in this world. Neither John nor Ryu paid the story any attention.

"We are undisturbed here. Nobody but I can enter this booth. Now, to negotiations."

"Sure, if you wanna call it that."

John leaned back in his seat, his eyes glancing toward the stage. They had interesting devices for a fantasy-type world. Magic lamps acted as showlights, sound amplifying devices worked as speakers, and the stage moved and danced around as mechanisms whirred in the back.

It was almost like watching a modern stage production from Earth. How interesting that scientists of this world managed to replicate such things. Destiny had said that science wasn't big for this world's people, but it was big enough that their engineers had designed such devices.

John understood the point, though. They could accomplish so much more if they just put their minds to it.

"Like I said, my organization has been infiltrated by the cultists. I cannot stand against them on my own," Ryu continued.

"Yeah? And why not?"

"My daughter," Ryu said simply. "They took my daughter."

John grimaced. Of course the circumstances had to be something like that. Why wouldn't they be?

"And they're holding her where?"

"There, they have shown their pride. She is still here. In the building."

John was just too stunned to speak. How convenient. In retrospect, he should be thanking the [Author] for such favourable conditions, but he didn't really feel like doing so.

"Ok, and who is this daughter of yours?" John frowned.

"Have you seen a dwarf missing an ear?"

John made a disgruntled noise.

"Yeah, I've seen her. You're telling me that's your daughter?"

"Tokage Hi. My pride and joy."

"And how did she lose an ear?"

"I cut it off," Ryu said simply.

John just stared. Even Prota had turned around in shock. What kind of father would do something like that to his own daughter?

"I cannot give family preferential treatment," Ryu explained, his voice even. "If my subordinates slip up, then I must discipline them. That, and more. I do not know if you have seen her recently, but her ear has grown back. We have treated it with a potion. There is also a rune of tracking within her ear."

John nodded, the disgust on his face now gone. It was clever, he had to admit. He could picture it: a boss, yelling at his subordinate, demanding an ear to pay for the mistake. The cultists would assume a hard-ass like Ryu would definitely do such a thing, and wouldn't look into it. They'd assume everything was fine. They'd also likely checked his daughter for any sort of protective devices beforehand, and wouldn't think to check again.

But Ryu would always know that his daughter had not been taken somewhere else.

"So she's in the building."

"Correct," Ryu nodded. "She is, in fact, in this very room. Why, I do not know. I hope it is nothing strange."

"You just had to say that, didn't you?" John grumbled.

"What? What do you mean by this?"

Too late. The lights in the room went dead, and the place was engulfed in darkness. John immediately withdrew his bat, grabbing Prota to ensure she was next to him.

"John?" she whispered.

She was shaking. Something was wrong. Prota wasn't normally afraid. Yes, she had traumas, and yes, they could easily trigger some kind of reaction from her. He'd seen it happen with Doctor. But there was nothing here.

"John," she moaned. "My head. Hurts."

"Your head?"

"Hurts. Something is…"

She went quiet. John frowned. Her head hurt? What was going on?

"Ryu?" John hissed. "Hey, big man. What's going on?"

No response. John cursed. He pulled out a penlight and flicked it on. He was hoping that the booth was isolated enough, because any form of light might as well be a sign saying, "come get me."

It was fine, though. The penlight was small enough that it didn't go anywhere. With one problem solved, though, another arose. Prota was unconscious.

He flicked the light back on and looked around. Something seemed off. There was a kind of mist in the balcony booth, something that hadn't been there before. He sniffed, but there was no smell or anything. What could this be? And why wasn't it affecting him? Was it some kind of reagent that only affected those with mana?

Suddenly, he felt Prota stir.

"Hey, you're up. We need to go, something is-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, flicking his head to the side just in time to dodge an icicle. He looked back down to see Prota holding her hand out, a glazed look in her eyes.

"Hey, what's going on with you?"

He yelped as a blade nearly pierced his stomach. Turning around, he found Ryu pulling his sword back, his movements slow and clumsy, like a golem or a zombie.

"Mind control. You've gotta be fucking kidding me. And why isn't this affecting me?"

Zero popped out. "Just one of the abilities you have."

John just shook his head. He gave Prota a little tap on the head with his bat, and she was knocked out cold. He'd apologize to her later, but right now, this was his best course of action.

He ran out of the booth and into the halls, which were still lit by candlelight. Looking around, he noticed a type of fog covering the floor. What was this? He didn't have time to analyze it. A cluster of people started limping over to him, their eyes glazed over.

John frowned, dodging an attack. Thankfully, it seemed that these mind-controlled people were nowhere near as skilled as they should've been, because nobody was even close to touching him. Their movements were like those of puppets on strings; jerky, uncontrolled and wild. He didn't need to focus on them and instead turned his attention back to his conversation with Zero.

"Alright, enlighten me, mister ability admiral. Why do I have this power?"

"It doesn't even have a name," Zero shrugged. "Just, you know. Back when you had your memories, you didn't want anybody making you do anything you wouldn't want to do."

"What?" John yelled, parrying a sword. "What the fuck does that even mean?"

"Well, for starters, it means you can't be turned into something else. Like a woman, for example. The only person who can do that is you. They also can't control your body."

"So I'm immune to telekinesis?"

"No. Well, if they use it to, like, make you do a goofy dance, or kiss somebody, or, uh, ■■■■ ■■■, then yeah, it'll stop working."

"What the fuck is with this conditional ass ability?" John hissed, still running.

"It also means you can't be mind-controlled, since that would be making you do something you wouldn't want to do."

John grumbled, shaking his head. "This is a stupid ability. You're bringing this up now?"

"Hey, it's helping you now, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and it's just so convenient that I learn about this ability when it's needed the most, huh?"

Zero shook his head. "No. You've just never been mind-controlled up until now. Well, you resisted Draconic Speech. I guess that counts. Yeah. Haven't you considered the fact that Draconic Speech doesn't work on you? This is why."

"I thought that was because my mental was super strong or something."

Zero actually laughed. "Your mental? Strong? That's a good one. No, your mental sucks. You'd be incredibly susceptible to mind-based attacks if they were more present in this world."

"Great. So, I'm immune to being controlled? What's this ability even called?"

"Uh… [Unique], I think. Basically just makes it so you can't become someone you don't want to. No matter what, you'll be John, a John in control of his actions."

"Isn't this a little too strong of an ability?" John frowned.

"I don't know," Zero shrugged. "All I know is that, as a real person, you didn't want to see yourself put in, uh… undesirable situations. So you just gave yourself that power."

John stopped running to face his soul.

"You're telling me I gave myself all these powers?"

"■■■■ ■■■, ■■■- I've said too much, it seems. Just be grateful and go."

"Go where?"

Zero didn't respond. John just cursed and started running again. There was an issue, though. He didn't know where he was running to. He knew he had to dump Prota off where there'd be no gas. But where was that?

The portals. He had to pray they were still working. John shook his head. No, that was stupid. If the cultists had really taken over the room, they wouldn't let any outside interference in. They'd be guarding the portals. Then where?

"Highest spot in this shitty place. But where…?"

"John!" he heard a voice hiss.

His head snapped around. Who was calling his name? It couldn't be an enemy, right?

"Over here!" the voice whispered desperately.

That voice. Arthur? John scanned the area and saw the boy waving frantically.

John rushed over and hid next to him, behind a row of tables.

"John, you're here! And you're ok!" Arthur said excitedly. "You have no idea how scared I was."

"What the- why are you even here?" John hissed, keeping an eye out for attackers.

"It's… that's-"

"Just spit it out. We don't have time."

Arthur's gulp was audible. "Well, Destiny said he had something important to do today, and that we should tell Mr. Woflhound if he didn't come back. Briar asked if he was going to help you, and he said yes."

John cursed. "Shit. I didn't think he'd actually… actually, no. That's a lie."

"What?"

"Nothing," John shook his head. "Keep going."

"Well, anyway, Briar said she would go with him. He refused at first, but then the princess took Briar's side, and then Briar roped Danjo into joining, and then Aurora said she'd come along to make sure everything went ok, and so I kinda… tagged along, too."

John frowned. Well, it seemed reasonable. There was still one question that needed to be answered, though.

"How are you ok?"

"How are you ok?" Arthur pointed out.

He didn't wait for an answer. It seemed he was too nervous to take everything in. Well, it worked out for John, who didn't have a suitable excuse ready.

"This handkerchief is like a filter; great for alchemists who have to inhale fumes all day. I had to use the washroom, and then I noticed some kind of mist coming in. The smell reminded me of hallucinogenic ingredients, so I quickly threw this on, and-"

"Hold on, smelled like hallucinogenic ingredients? You know what those smell like?"

Arthur frowned, confused. "Well, of course. Isn't it standard for alchemists to be familiar with their ingredients?"

John let out a quiet laugh. This kid was a lot more skilled than he let on.

"Well, do you have another of those handkerchiefs?"

Arthur frowned, hesitant. "Well… I have a mask, I guess, but-"

"Great, I need you to use it on Prota here."

John tossed his sister on the ground like a sack of rice, then got up to leave.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going?" Arthur said, reaching out to stop him.

"What do you think? Gotta finish what I came here to do. If you're so scared about getting hurt, just make sure she gets back up. I gotta go."

Arthur nodded slowly, but eventually opened his mouth.

"Just… I don't know if it's my place to ask, but are we gonna be ok?"

John grimaced. "I hope so."

With that, he ran off. Great. Everyone was here. He wasn't sure how much more complicated that would make things, but it was good to know that it was the case.

One thing before he went back into the theatre room. He had to record a message for Prota. There was something she needed to do when she got back up and running, something he didn't have the luxury of doing himself.

"Alright," he muttered, taking a deep breath to ready himself. "Here we go."

He opened the door, and a large amount of fog immediately spilled out. Gritting his teeth, he barged in, only to be met with…

Nothing.

"Huh."

John felt around in the dark, walking up some stairs, unsure of where he was going. Was he just going to go blind the whole time? Maybe he'd stumble into some room that contained the brainwashing device. That would be useful.

Suddenly, there was a loud click as the stage lights turned on. John blinked, momentarily blinded, but as his vision came back, he found himself in the center of the stage. Standing before him was a familiar figure.

"Oh, great."

John clenched his teeth, raising his bat in preparation.

"Destiny. Come on. You don't have some kind of anti-mind control ability?"

His only response was the sound of Destiny's blade being unsheathed. He sighed, readying his bat.

"Great. Here we go."

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