Pan's POV

"There! This is gorgeous!" I said. Then, I gave my cardboard sign a kiss because it was pretty neat. I turned it around for Bulla and Marron to see. "Voila!"

Marron squinted and tilted her head to the side. She frowned.

"What?"

"You spelled 'anything' and 'help' wrong," Marron said.

I flipped it over to take a closer look for myself. It looked totally right and fine.

"No it's not!" I said.

"You spelt it A-N-Y-T-I-H-N-G W-I-L-L H-A-L-P."

"Bulla, what do you think?!" I shouted.

She looked up from the flower wreath she was making. Sneakily, Marron took the marker and cardboard and wrote something down.

"Hey!"

"Um. . . maybe we should use Marron's, I mean it's more readable," Bulla said nervously, trying not to offend me, but oh boy, it did! I hooked my arm around her neck.

In the back, safe from my grasp, Marron rolled over laughing.

"Stop, my hair is already messed up!" Bulla cried.

I stopped and sat on my part of the grass.

"Fine," I said as I blew a strand of hair out of my face.

"Then let's go," Marron said as she stood up.

We snuck out of our hiding place and to the streets of Satan City. Cars busily passed us, left and right, there was almost nowhere to cross, so I, Pan made my way to the other side. Cars honked and drivers yelled, but I held my head up high and walked like I was looking down on my royal subjects. Marron and Bulla didn't do the same.

"Perfect!" I said as I stood next to a stoplight. "We can do it here!"

"This is my spot! Find your own!"

I turned around and saw the same man that was here two hours ago.

"Geez, dude, didn't anyone teach you sharing was caring?" I spat out. I set my jaw and put my hands on my hips.

His face was tanned, probably from the sun and his black curly hair poked out of his hood. He had a clean-cut mustache which didn't match his clothes or how he looked, but anywho…

"I said move it, kid! Respect your elders or I'll chop you to the ground!" his tone suddenly shot up and I took a step back. I bumped against Marron and Bulla.

"Look, old man, we're not leaving! You got that?" Bulla barked. She took a step forward, in my place, and started giving him a lecture. "Who cares about freaking elders? You should respect women, obviously! We're gentler, serene, peaceful, clean, beautiful, and yada, yada, yada!"

Marron and I give each other approving looks. We smiled a real smile for the first time in days.

". . . and that's why you have to respect women!" Bulla concluded. By then, the man had left. "Hey, where'd he go?" Bulla asked as she looked around for the hobo.

"Good job, Bulla!" I said and gave her a hug.

"But still, that man should learn the basics of manners! Women are much more important than men! We go through so much stuff-"

"That's enough," Marron said as she held up her sign at passing cars. "I can tell we're going to be here a while."

I stopped playing around with Bulla and stood up straight, but I couldn't. Soon my eyes drifted to the ground and I realized that hobo had left something here. It looked like a card, specifically, an ID card. I bent over and snatched it up with one swift movement and took a look for myself. There was a picture of the same guy –black afro, blue eyes, and tanned skin. I scanned over it and then it hit me. That man was Mr. Satan! I met Mr. Satan! This was a dream come true!

But why was he on the streets . . . ?

Five hours later, we made about $100 and I used my forearm to wipe the sweat off my forehead. We were all exhausted from the heat and could use something to drink, but Marron was in charge of the money so. . .

"No, we're not going to a vending machine," she said strictly.

"Why not?" Bulla and I whined. My throat was dry and I was dying of thirst.

"Because this is Satan City, obviously. It's a tour place, so everything here is probably expensive."

Still, I was DYING of thirst.

"Drink your spit. I'm doing that and I feel fine."

I swallowed, but it didn't feel as good as water.

We walked past an electronic store and I guess they were playing live TV because the anchor said, "Right now, three girls are on the run from escaping an academy. These girls are to be described 'very pretty' and 'close friends'. Please be on the lookout for them."

"Oh crud."

We ran down the sidewalk, pushing past the people who were walking the opposite direction of us, but they didn't seem to mind. It's like they've been doing this all their lives. They're chill –I like that.

Finally, when we were far enough away from the broadcast, we slowed down to a walk. I checked my surroundings, since I'd have to anyway in the future because cops will be coming for us. This part of town didn't look very nice –I mean it was pretty and calm –unlike where we were before.

There were more trees and less people. The sky wasn't fogged up in clouds and it was quiet.

"Where are we?" Bulla asked as if she were hypnotized. I couldn't blame her.

"We're not in downtown anymore," Marron said as she looked around. "Maybe some quiet suburb?"

All of a sudden, I heard a group of people chant, "FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!" over and over again. You just couldn't ignore the bunch of people who were crowded around which seemed to be a fight.

I walked over to see what the whole commotion was about.

There were so many tall adults, that I had to shove them out of my way so I could at least see who was fighting.

"Outta my way, oldies!" I yelled over the cheering. At last, I made it to the front line and saw some bulky man getting ready to fight a teenage boy. There was a sign that read 'win $5,000 if you beat MushVroom Man' I didn't care for the muscles the man had, but I stared at the teenage boy in awe.

His hair was spiked in one direction (Hahaha) and he had dark eyes, not as in evil, but color-wise. The kid had a daring look in the glint of his eye and he wore natural clothes that didn't really fit how he looked. No, I do not like him! I'm just describing, sheesh. How else are you going to know his description?!

Marron and Bulla nudged their way into the crowd and stood beside me as we watched the match. Something in me urged to stop the fight, but something else told me not to interfere. Honestly, I didn't know what to do. . .

"Stop!"

All eyes were on me the second that word escaped my lips. I had no idea why I said it; maybe it was because of the jaw-dropping amount of money.

"Kid, go home! This is no place for children!" the teenage boy said. It vaguely sounded familiar. . .

"No!" I shouted right back. No one messes with Pan!

"I said go home!" the raven-haired kid yelled. This time, he turned so he faced me. He looked mad.

"Pan, back off," Marron said as she grabbed my arm, but I yanked it out of her grip.

Like I said, no one messes with Pan. Especially if she's on fire!

I walked and shoved the boy aside and he made a satisfying 'oof' sound. Then, I got into a ready position in front of this so called MushVroom.

"Let's fight," I smirked. I don't know why, but my body automatically did this. Adrenaline pumped into my veins and I got all hyped up. It was cool.

"Pan, you can't fight!" Bulla cried.

Oh yes I can. Don't underestimate my skills. If I can break Valese's nose, then I can do much more.

"You know this is a gamble. You'll lose $5,000 if you lose this match. Of course, that will happen, kiddo," MushVroom said.

"Don't bet on it."