The thrilling saga continues.


Cover art - Adolf Hitler


Steve Ching-Chong was the mayor of some backwater settlement in Mistral so small it didn't even have a name. As such, calling for help when a Grimm attacked was a difficult task. Hunters didn't like to take on rescue missions where they were likely to get lost in the woods. As such, they had to rely on locals for help.

So when he heard that a team of hunters was rolling into town to help them out, he couldn't believe his luck. Finally, a chance to get some professional help to deal with the village's problems. Things were shaping up for once.

"Mr Mayor, there are four kids outside requesting to see you," came his secretary's voice over the intercom.

"That must be the hunters I've called for. Very well, send them in."

"Uh, I don't know if these kids are hunters, Mr Mayor. They don't look like hunters to me."

"I'll be the judge of that. Send them in."

Ching-Chong waited in anticipation. He had seen hunters only a handful of times in his life and had never employed them before. They were mankind's bulwarks, defending humanity from the forces of darkness. He was excited and nervous at the same time.

The door opened moments later and four people - two boys and two girls - walked in. They were young, teenagers at the most. That wasn't surprising. Children less than nine began their training as hunters. Kids these days thought it was better to jump into the jaws of a Beowolf than to grow old and live peacefully. Tragic, but at least that meant his village didn't have to invest money into schools.

What was unusual though was their attire. Hunters were known for wearing bizarre clothing into battle, ranging from capes and skirts like they were auditioning for Remnant's most fashionable cannon fodder. That said, he had never seen hunters wear formal business suits before. They were all dressed in the same dull suits consisting of grey ties, grey jackets, grey pants, even grey shoes. These four looked very boring in comparison to other hunters. The only thing that separated them from each other was their different hair colours.

"Greetings," said the red one.

"Greetings," said the ginger one.

"Greetings," said the yellow one.

"Greetings," said the black and pink one.

"Greetings, they all said in unison.

Ching-Chong wasn't sure what he was seeing here. They all spoke in the same monotonous tone like they were robots. On each of their faces was a small, satisfied smile. It was unusual behaviour to be sure, but then again it wasn't too long ago that the Fall of Beacon had occurred. Perhaps they all had PTSD?

He cleared his throat. "You must be Team RNJR? I welcome you to our village. I hope you had a safe time getting here. The wilderness is notorious for being a dangerous place."

"You need not worry, Mr Mayor, our journey here was a safe one," Red said. "Thanks to our supreme intelligence, we were able to travel down a route that had us avoid any Grimm or ruffian that would wish us harm."

"Yes, it's amazing what you can accomplish when you use your brain," Yellow said.

The four of them murmured in agreement with each other.

"Quite right," Ching-Chong said. "Speaking of harm, I'm afraid we haven't been as lucky as you. A Geist has been tormenting us for the past few weeks now. We've done all we can, but we need the help of professional hunters. Name your price and we'll pay-"

Ginger held up a hand, silencing him. "That's where I must stop you, Mr Mayor. Please do not refer to us as 'hunters'. That title doesn't do us justice."

"I'm sorry?"

"My colleague is right," Black/pink said. "Please refer to us as 'logicers'."

"Logicers," they all said, perfectly in sync with each other. Were they all part of a hive mind?

Ching-Chong was beginning to wonder if his secretary had spiked his coffee. "Pardon me, I'm not sure I understand."

"We didn't expect you to, so let me break it down for you in words you'll understand," Red said. Hopefully, the girl's fighting skills had as much bite as her words. "Hunters are stupid people who rely on primitive tactics to fight. We are logicers; we fight our battles using logic and reason. The mind is, after all, the strongest weapon mankind possesses."

"I see… forgive me if this sounds rude, but I sent out a request for hunters and not, er, logicers."

"Fret not, Mr Mayor, you'll find that we are more useful than some backwards hunter," Yellow assured him.

Ching-Chong went to pick up his pen. Their eyes locked on his hand instantly like he had set off an alarm. He swallowed. Behind those smiles were cold, calculating gazes. They were judging his every move. He could feel it in his gut.

His slowly pulled his hand back, their eyes following his every movement. "Anyway, we have reason to believe that the Geist is living in the forest east of the village. If you could draw it away from the village and fight it from a safe distance, we'd greatly appreciate it. You may use whatever supplies we can offer you from the armoury."

That all sounded reasonable on his part. They weren't a rich village, but they were ready to offer whatever they could to hunters- or logicers, in this case. So, how did his heroes respond to his offer?

By laughing right in his face, that's how!

That is, if you could even call it laughter. It was more like a monotonous chuckle that consisted of them literally saying 'hah' every five seconds.

"Perhaps you didn't hear us the first time," Black/pink told him. "We're not here to fight the Grimm for you. That is not our way. We're here to challenge your logic of dealing with the Grimm."

"My what?"

"Rather than get our hands dirty with an unnecessary fight, we're here to point out why this Grimm is attacking you and why you are incompetent for allowing this to happen. By the end of this, you'll feel enlightened by our brilliance."

"What are you talking about-?"

"Let's start with this village," Red said, pointing to the window that showed a splendid view of the village. "You are living in an area surrounded by Grimm and petty bandits. What reason have you for settling here? Why not retreat to the safety of the capital like a sensible person?"

The way they stared at him made him feel like a maggot under a microscope. When had this turned into an interrogation? Who the hell were these kids?

Doing everything in his power to stay polite, he tried bringing the conversation back to its original topic. "Forgive me, but I'm not sure how this has anything to do with the Geist."

"Then you are a fool," Red said without skipping a beat. "Now please answer my question before you waste any more of my time, time that I could be using creating my own perfect settlement."

Ching-Chong controlled his frustrations by clenching his hand under his desk. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you," echoed the wise words of mama Ching-Chong.

"Well, if you must know," he said slowly, "a lot of us come from poor backgrounds and can't afford to buy property in Mistral and any of the other larger cities. As for the location, the forest provides us with everything we need; food, water and shelter. It's not ideal, but it's the best we can do."

"I see," Yellow said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Then if you have nowhere to go, why not train your settlers to combat the dangers around you?"

"We all have basic combat training, but none of our skills compares to that of a hunter's. This is because we don't have the resources or the - if you'll pardon the phrase - luxury of going to a hunter's academy. We have to work with what we've got."

He kept silent about the fact that these four children had more free time than any of them to think about such matters.

"Mr Mayor, may I ask you a question?" Black/pink said.

"Of course."

"What was your previous job before coming to this village?"

"My previous job?"

"It will help us understand your situation a little better."

"Well, if you must know, I was a trader. I dealt mostly in clothes and I'd travel in between Vale and Mistral. I'm sorry, but what does this have to do with anything?"

"A trader," Red hummed, ignoring his question. "Please, carry on."

Whatever helped get them out of his office and on to some Grimm killing.

"Um, okay. Anyway, as I got older, I found that the journey between the kingdoms waned on me more than what it used to. Unfortunately, I was also a struggling alcoholic, so I kept wasting my money away on drink. When I eventually retired from my job, I barely had a single lien to my name."

"But there was hope for me. I ran into several refugees from bandit attacks, as well as homeless faunus seeking shelter. Together we formed the village you see before you. The people elected me as their mayor and I have done everything in my power to make sure we stay prosperous. And the rest is history."

The group before him didn't bat an eyelid at his life story. Well, what were they expecting? He was a mayor, not a storyteller. It was his job to keep his people in line. If they wanted to be entertained they could go somewhere else. Maybe the Geist had a few tales to tell? Speaking of which, they needed to hurry up and slay that thing.

"Interesting," Ginger murmured. She turned to her strange group. "Fellow logicers, I think we need to put our heads together."

And they literally put their heads together. The four of them huddled in a circle and started to rub against each other's scalps like they were trying to share dandruff between themselves. Ching-Chong made a mental note to hoover the carpet once this meeting was over.

After their disturbing display of teamwork, they pulled away from each other looking even more proud of themselves - if such a thing were possible.

"You will be pleased to hear that using our combined intelligence, we have devised a solution to your problem!" Yellow announced. "You say that you fell on hard times due to your addiction to alcohol, yes?"

"... yes?"

Yellow clapped his hands. "Perfect! Then all you had to do to avoid this was to not be an alcoholic!"

Silence filled the room. Ching-Chong thought he was waiting for them to say something more, but the look in their eyes told him they were expecting an answer from him. 'No fucking shit' seemed like an appropriate answer, but only in his head.

"Well, in hindsight, you're correct-" he began.

"Wonderful!" Red beamed. "We have saved your village! Fellow logicers, victory is ours!"

The four of them began shaking each other's hands and patting themselves on the back, exchanging words of praise to their fellow suit-wearing weirdo. Ching-Chong meanwhile sat in silence, patiently waiting to wake up from this fever dream.

Ginger turned to him once they were done sucking each other's… ties. "We will depart immediately. No need to thank us, just doing your job."

"Wait, what?" Ching-Chong cried. "What do you mean you're leaving? You haven't even done anything yet!"

"Au contraire," Black/pink said. "We have successfully found a way all of this could have been avoided. You agreed with us, you said it yourself. Our work here is done."

"Amazing, isn't it?" Yellow said. "We're not even professional mayors and we were able to come up with that solution so quickly."

"But the Geist is still out there!" he shouted. "It terrorizes us day and night!"

"Yes, but it wouldn't if you hadn't been such an alcoholic in the past."

"None of that matters now! What matters is that Geist needs to be killed! You can't just point out some flaws in my past and act all superior about it! You haven't helped anything!"

Red shook her head slowly and tutted. "Now, now, Mr Mayor, don't go acting ungrateful. We didn't have to help you today, but we did because we care. We're in a good mood, however, so we'll excuse the rudeness today. But next time, we'll expect full respect."

Ching-Chong's eyes darted around the room for something sharp. Forget the Geist. Now the only thing he wanted dead were these four.

"We will take our leave now. Don't worry, we'll be back soon to check up on how you're doing. If you need any more help, please feel free to tell us more about your past. We'll be certain to find more solutions from your mistakes."

The four of them finally left his office. Unfortunately, they were heading in completely the opposite direction to where the Geist was living. Guess they didn't want to dirty their clothes from some actual work. It seemed that the Grimm would carry on ruining their lives once again. Happy happy, joy joy.

Ching-Chong slumped in his chair. He pressed the button to call his secretary. "Caroline, please cancel all my plans. I'm pretty sure we're all dying tomorrow anyway."

"Understood, Mr Mayor. What should I tell the people about their imminent demise?"

"Stay away from alcohol, I guess."


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