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Disclaimer: it's in the bottom this time.
Chapter 17
Nothing but Fury
XxXxXxXxX
"So Jackie, I heard you got yourself a new boy toy~"
"Janna, that's really rude! He's just a guy whose…trying to get to know me." Her eyes darting to Marco.
Janna waved her hand, as if Jackie's discomfort made no difference to her. She was smiling too widely at her…
"C'mon, what's his name, I want to know if I already stalked him."
"JANNA!"
Janna just continued to hold her friendly smile.
Marco seemed to be zoning out of the conversation, his eyes looking out the window. Jackie fidgeted, whispering,
"Keaton Grey."
"Yup. Followed him to one of his practices."
Jackie's jaw dropped.
"Brunet jock, thinks Love Sentence is cool; pens an 'X' on his V-line."
"Gosh, Janna get a different hobby!"
Janna leaned back, smug with herself as Jackie's face turned beet red at her keen observation.
She didn't know he did that!
Jackie gave her a reproachful look, Janna shrugged before glancing at Marco,
"I'm just teasing her, right Marco? Marco. Marco?"
He didn't seem to budge, he didn't say anything for hot minute now did the two thought about it.
"Marco? Heeello~?" she had waved her hand in front of Marco and he didn't so much as twitch.
"Janna, Janna! Don't! He's spaced out."
He was all glassy eyed, his chin resting on his fist, he was like a frozen Adonis statue.
Janna reached for him before Jackie caught it.
"Don't! He'll be really confused, I don't want to cause a scene…"
"Well, we can't just have a Marco statue staring out of the window, who knows how many women would get swooned." Janna answered in mock irritation.
Internally, Janna was very worried about that.
Janna pulled out her phone and quickly look online what to do. She normally put people into trances, but she always knew how to get them out with the code word: chickenbutt.
She paused.
"Chicken butt."
Someone in the other booth slid down their chair like a wet noodle.
"Damnit, I need to stop making the code word the same thing…" Janna muttered as the cafe maid easily put the guy back on his seat.
Jackie gave her a funny look, she shrugged, "It was worth a try."
"Well? What should we do?"
"Alright, alright, it said either wait for them to break it themselves OR we give them a hard jolt. I'm not in the mood for a karate chop from the resident bad boy so I say we wait it out."
The two looked at Marco.
"Damn…looks like he's in a really deep trance…I like it, Brooding Marco its is a good look on him."
"…we better keep him company until he snaps out of it. Um, miss? Can we get a plate of macaroons?" Jackie trying not to think of Janna's last comment.
The cafe maid did a thumbs up.
Jackie looked at Marco worriedly, he finished 3/4 of his drink before he stopped and glanced out the window. Janna nicked it and slurped up the rest, she was in bliss, she had indirectly swap spit with Marco and in front of Jackie to boot!
Jackie frowned as Janna took to the drink too quickly and almost orgasmically?
The two sat there in silence until the macaroons showed up and they ate it tentatively, unsure what to do except wait.
Unbeknownst to them, Marco's eyes were mirthlessly cold.
Two years ago…
"I said 'no', I don't have time to babysit you."
"I saved your life, you owe—"
Marco flinched as the mercenary pointed a pistol to his head, his eyes boring into his own,
"I don't normally kill those who help me, but I'm very willing to make an exception; today."
"…"
Marco could see the slight tension in the finger, his hand on Traitor's Sword tightening.
Which was faster:
His Warp or the bullet.
Marco felt his guts twist painfully, the sound of thunder in his ears as he narrowly evaded the bullet that would have surely ripped though his brain.
The mercenary wasn't surprised it didn't work and rolled away as Marco came crashing down with the sword from above, he leveled it at him.
"That's some nifty tech you got there…"
"No tech: just a very judgmental mystic sword."
He raise a brow, "I don't believe you."
"Look, I saved your life, the least you can do is teach me something useful."
"Fine: get lost. I do appreciate not made into swiss cheese but I ain't taking some baby back pissant under my care."
Marco looked at the mercenary before cutting a portal behind him and slipped through.
"Holy fuck, what are you doing here."
"I came for what I'm owed."
The mercenary spat to the side before downing his drink, "I already told you: get lost." "I'm not going anywhere because now I know you're the best merc in this dimension."
The mercenary looked at him quietly, before glancing to the barkeep, then back to him, "You know who I am then."
"StudMuffin. Mercenary Extraordinaire."
"Fuck, that does sound stupid. That's the last time I name myself, leave it to a bard or minstrel…"
Marco stood there as StudMuffin got his drink refilled, "You better wipe that frown off your gob, this isn't a place for children, go back to your parents, live a good life. This life isn't for whiny little bitches!"
The merc held up his drink and the bar erupted in cheers, he laughed and down it before glancing back at him. Marco was still there.
"Hah…get out of here."
"Fuck outta here!"
StudMuffin growled as he swung his knife into open space.
The kid had slipped through a portal.
StudMuffin fired at Marco, he deftly warped away and avoided more gunfire before taking cover.
"How long are you going to keep this up."
"…"
The mercenary had tangled with Marco at least a dozen times now, he had to admit Marco wasn't without potential, but he wasn't about to tell him that. The little sack of shit was eating into his down time and business hours; he was ready to put a cap in his head.
Marco lunged out and threw the sword, he snarled and pulled out his revolver, that blasted sword was impervious to anything he could threw at it and it did a great job cutting through some of his gun barrels. More than once he'd grab it only to be given the worse taser of his life before the boy warped in and sucker punch him before running away.
So instead he quick draw fired, emptying all six rounds.
The metallic 'tings' rang in the merc's.
Followed by Marco crashing head first into the ground, his sword out of reach.
StudMuffin was already crossing ground the moment he finished firing, knowing Marco would teleport to the sword but also miscalculating what he had done to the sword's trajectory. The bullets did absolutely nothing to the sword, but that six shots moved the sword far enough to which when Marco warped his legs would be smashing into the dirt.
Marco scrambled to his feet but the merc had enough, he kicked Marco over and planted his knee over his throat, the revolver over his heart and another pistol at the sword.
"Fuckin' predictable!" StudMuffin snarled at the panting boy, he pressed his knee harder hearing Marco wheeze, "I've given you plenty of warnings and plenty of chances to find a different merc to shadow: what do you want from me?!"
"To learn from you!" Marco wheezed, his face turning blue, StudMuffin growled pressing even harder.
"There are plenty of mercs out here willing to take a kid like you…go bother them."
Marco gasped for breath.
StudMuffin held his knee, he pressed the revolver barrel harder into Marco's chest.
He didn't even flinch when the sword appeared in Marco's hand and pressed into his armor plating over his heart.
StudMuffin glared into Marco's bloodshot eyes.
Determination burned in them.
Cold, mirthless eyes bored back: DO IT.
Marco passed out.
And the sword dropped from his fingers.
He sat up, gasping for air, his hand over his throat, feeling a definite bruise.
Marco looked to the side, StudMuffin was tending to a small fire, he glanced at him before shaking his head.
"Lie back down. You don't want another ass beating."
"…why—" He coughed hard, the merc shook his head again.
"It's not mercy, more like reluctant curiousity: why the fuck do you keep coming back."
"You're the best merc…around here." Marco cleared his throat.
"Kid, the best merc tends to be the bloodiest. And the worst."
"..."
"I don't know what you're looking for so tell it to me now so I can decided if I will give a fuck."
"I need a teacher."
"Then get out of here, ain't no respectable teachers here."
StudMuffin spit into the fire before he realized what Marco was alluding to, "Oh, fuck no. Fuck you, kid. My profession isn't some badge you put on when you want to; it's for life. Who the fuck sent you."
"…a dragon."
"Then you better go back and tan its hind."
The merc looked at Marco for a moment, shaking his head again, looking every bit angry and reluctant, "I should have shot him in the head…" he muttered to himself.
"You gonna come back here if I say no?"
"Yes."
StudMuffin pulled out his pistol and cock it and aimed it at Marco, "Last chance: leave."
"N—"
Unconsciously, Marco summoned the sword and narrowly deflected the shot, his heart hammering, this son of bitch!
"…"
"…"
StudMuffin didn't lower the pistol.
Marco's sword gleamed in the light of the fire.
Both of their eyes illuminated by the campfire.
"Fuckin'…fine, FINE. Put that sword away, Marco. You want to learn from me so badly, then you better take what I teach you seriously."
"…I will."
"Yeah…I bet you do." StudMuffin snarled, standing up and kicking dirt into the fire, leaving the two in darkness.
"I live by a very specific set of rules. You will too, as long as I teach you my profession."
And those rules would come to haunt Marco.
Marco kept his eyes forward, StudMuffin walked ahead of him. He tried to blot out the noise of the most malicious and downright horrendous things around him. The first time he walked through the place, he thought the merc was trying to rile him up, to his surprise that was exactly what he was doing to him.
"You better learn to recognize that mercs takes jobs from anyone: so long as they can pay them in return. We don't have fancy guilds and honest establishments to line our pockets here, you learn to take jobs no matter the contractor, no matter the job, you can not afford to be picky."
Marco wanted to stuff his ears with wax as the many, many voices cried out for help.
Pleading they were taken from their homes.
They were prisoners.
Hostages.
Crying children.
Naked men and women.
Bleeding, ragged and crippled.
His first visit he followed his innate instincts.
StudMuffin grabbed him by the hoodie and threw him into the ground, then promptly offered the vendor to kick him while was down. He glared at StudMuffin but he looked back at him…disappointed.
His second visit ended up the same, only this time Marco fought back.
He rubbed burn mark StudMuffin rammed the smoking gun barrel into his ribs, he blocked the shot but the follow-up was faster than he could evade. The merc looked at him coldly, there on the ground was a madden vendor who promptly seized the opportunity to punch Marco repeatedly until he was unconscious.
The last image was sad, despair-ridden eyes.
This was his tenth visit, he memorized the route and avoided the many attractions of the marketplace. The merc didn't bother glancing back to his shadow, it took some time but eventually he understood the lesson why he would walk him through the marketplace before going to his hideout.
The Meat Market was a wonderful…ly twisted place to get Marco off his high horse.
Oh, the things he said when they reached his hideout the first time.
"Those were people! PEOPLE! People were being sold to another person!" Marco roared.
"Yes, Marco, I can clearly see." The merc said bored as he inspected his hideout, checking if any of his booby-traps were set off.
"This is—!" Marco's voice rising.
"What? Atrocious? Bad? Wrong?" StudMuffin listed off, disinterested.
"YES!"
StudMuffin gave him the look of annoyed disbelief.
"Those people were being auction off! This is slavery! This is inhumane!"
"What's your point, Marco."
Marco looked at him in disbelief.
"What the fuck—what the fuck do you mean?! What kind of dimension would allow this?! Where's the government?! The damn police!?"
"We have none of those. This is a No Man's Land, a place where mercenaries live and thrive, just like any other place; millions upon millions of this place. Now that you're done whining come over here I need to teach you—really?"
Marco stomped over and pulled a pistol off the wall and pointed it at his face.
"We're stopping this auction operation and we're going to burn down—!"
StudMuffin twisted out of the way at the same time wrenching the pistol from his grasp before promptly slamming Marco into the ground.
"Marco, you asked to learn from me, I'm keeping my end of then deal so you better damn uphold yours; this is what you signed up for. This place is not a nice place, no different from any other. You think a mercenary's life is glamorous: it's not. We will do jobs that will make your stomach turn, we will do jobs that are morally wrong; we do it for a paycheck, to put food on our table, so we can practice our trade and to drown in our vices so we can be numb to it the next fuckin' day. We are no different from the thief that works three houses down who would steal from his friends and family or the whore in the corner of the street whose been there since she lost her family. There is no honest job where no one gets hurt, it's a cutthroat life here and anywhere else; if you think different then you're naïve and wrong. Now, get on your damn feet and listen to what I'm going to teach."
StudMuffin watched Marco stand up, still defiant. Still naïve.
"This is a broom. Fucking sweep the floor."
"Marco…who is this."
"He got caught in the blast so I—"
StudMuffin quickdraw and blew apart the front of his skull.
Marco just stared at the bloody remains of what used to be a living person.
[No witnesses]
.
It was suppose to be an easy job…
Just get into the place and take the damn briefcase back.
Marco looked at the dead hired hand StudMuffin brought along.
He spared someone. They told the guards.
Now there was a dead body.
"What did I say about witnesses, Marco."
"…no witnesses." he said quietly.
Marco ran through the foreign market, dodging traffic before tackling the target, he kicked and tried to slash Marco with a dagger he pulled off his shoulder but Marco quickly brought the flat side of his sword down on his wrist breaking it.
"ARGH! YOU DAMN MERC!" he snarled, his hand limp.
Marco rolled away as he tried to pull out his pistol and shoot him, he glanced around and saw StudMuffin casually watching, his client behind him.
Marco twisted away from the gunfire, the market already moving to adjust to the fight, vendors going behind their reinforced stalls or if they were brave, watched the brawl in the open.
"Hurry the fuck up, Marco, you're on work hours."
"I KNOW!"
Marco spun and broke the other wrist and the guy roared in pain, turning tail and ready to dart into the crowd.
Marco pulled out a pair of bolas and threw it, tripping the assailant, StudMuffin clapped slowly as the two walked towards the struggling man. The crowd of people resuming their work, as if it was just another day.
"That him…that him…" a small voice, but all dark.
Marco looked at the little girl in soiled rags hiding behind StudMuffin, she put a bounty for this man's head but when the two investigated they found out the girl had not only lied about the man's bounty but also had no money to pay for such a task.
Marco insisted they do it anyways and StudMuffin grunted, "Fine. But this is on you, all of it."
The girl deserved justice but she had no means to achieve it.
The man exhaled loudly on the ground, Marco pointed the sword threateningly at him, "You killed this girl's parents now—"
StudMuffin wasn't at all alarmed when two small hands pulled out his pistol and ran to the man and pressed the barrel into his stomach. Marco froze as the little girl pulled the trigger and put 6 rounds of hot lead into the man's stomach before he pried her away, the man cursing for a few desperate seconds before he was just meat.
"DIE! DIE! DIE!" she sobbed, StudMuffin pulled the gun free from her too small hands and re-holster it. Marco gave the merc a glare as the little girl just hung limply in his arms, the merc knelt and looked at her.
"There's your justice."
"…"
He looked at Marco, he glared back,
"Don't act surprised, this was going to end one of two ways: a dead man or a dead girl."
"It should have been neither."
The merc shrugged, "She'll grow up to hunt that man down years from now, you saved her from doing that."
"..." Marco's eyes soften.
"See, when I say it like that, vengeance sounds alright."
Marco shook his head dispassionately.
"Now, little one: pay Marco."
"What? No, this is the right thing to do."
StudMuffin gave him a death glare.
[Never work for free]
The girl looked at Marco, her eyes demure but the merc tilted her head back to him, "That's not how this works. You wanted him caught. Marco did. You killed him and that's none of our business. Now pay up."
Marco was ready to stop StudMuffin but the girl slowly pulled out an old pocket watch and put it into his hands,
"That Papa's." "Well, now it's Marco's. Catch. It's worthless but you can sell it for scrap parts."
The little girl said nothing and walked away.
Disappearing from view.
Marco looked at the small pocket-watch, it was dented here and there, he opened it and saw the glass cracked; the clock not even ticking away. He stuffed it into his pocket.
"…"
"You work free once then everyone will demand you do."
Marco stood there.
He was listening to Meat Market vendor.
The merc frowned, looking at the product.
"—and here we have ourselves a 'princess'!" a malnourished young woman was shoved into the stage, dressed in thin rags hanging off her, "Take her home today and she'll be more than happy to make you her King!"
The crowd roared with approval and laughter.
"See something you like, boy."
Rhetorical.
The merc could already see his shoulders shaking with anger.
He forced Marco to watch the auctions ever so often.
For at least an hour.
The product showcase was a large selection, obviously the better ones were kept behind closed door auctions, these were a clearance sale.
Marco knew the joys and pains of life.
He could smell it off him.
And the merc waited for the inevitable.
[The Next Day]
Marco kicked the door down and tackled StudMuffin.
The merc slapped the punches for his face as Marco viciously tried to beat his brains out.
"WHY?!"
"It was a job. An easy one. You should work on your—"
He grabbed Marco's cocked arm and pulled him down, his elbow striking his temple and he casually rolled him off.
"That girl you helped escape; her legs are broken now. Thanks to you now she'll go even more cheaply." the merc said coolly.
"BECAUSE OF YOU! SHE COULD HAVE BEEN FREE!" Marco summoned the sword but StudMuffin was too quick and kicked his hand before grabbing him and throwing him atop the table, it gave way like poorly assembled Ikea furniture.
StudMuffin pulled him up and punched him before throwing him back down, the heel of his boot on his head.
"If you were so intent on setting her free then she wouldn't have been caught. What's the first thing you did? Knock out the guards, but didn't kill them, so they reported what happened. You left witnesses like the girls in the other cages so of course they talked. You at least disguised yourself, so good for you. But you brought her to the place she wanted instead of a place she could blend in, a place you were only familiar with then maybe she would never been found.
You were sloppy, careless and shortsighted. That's why I caught her in less than a day and dragged her back here."
He tossed a gold coin on the ground, Marco watched it roll on the wooden floor.
"Payment."
"…I'll kill you."
"Bitch, I could do that right now to you." He pressed harder, "Yeah, your sword will cut me down, but not before I give you permanent brain damage."
StudMuffin boot fell as Marco warped.
He glared at the merc.
StudMuffin shrugged.
"Before you set someone free, be sure you know who the fuck they are first."
"And who was she?"
"A criminal. She poses as a princess before stabbing her victims and looting the body."
"Then why sell her?!"
"We mediate ourselves and we have our own brand of the 'justice system', this isn't your home dimension, Marco, so you better learn our norms while you're here, tourist. Now, this is a broom—"
"Yeah, I fuckin' know that."
"—and shove it up your ass."
"…"
Marco turned his back to the merc and walked out.
"Go back and see where she ended up. Be guilty if you want. And if you ever want to defy me again, fine; but for fuck sake's do it right."
"StudMuffin, I'm—whoa!"
"Close the door, boy!"
"WHO IS THAT?" came a startled feminine voice.
Marco swiftly closed the door before yelling behind the safety of it, the merc balls deep with one of his lady friends.
"His son!"
"Fuck you!"
StudMuffin looked at Marco, beaten up again by the Meat Market bruisers.
He was plenty famous now for stirring up trouble.
"I have put up with your defiance, stubbornness, naivety and downright insubordination for weeks, Marco."
"..."
"…I wanted to wait for you to say it on your accord, but I'm done bullshitting you: tell me exactly why you chose me."
"..."
"Fine, I'll say it: because I'm not only the best merc around, I'm the 'worst' of them all. You don't want to say it, but you know learning from a respectable mercenary wont teach you jack shit. So you jumped in the deep end. Ironically, that's what this place is called, the Deep End."
Silence.
StudMuffin glared at him.
"Those mercenaries told you to take jobs that pays good, that has the low perchance to violence, that lets you help others. But you already know that. You already do that. Then you came to the stark realization that these mercs can't help you, they shy away from the ugliness the profession comes with. And here we are."
Marco was livid.
But he didn't deny it.
He didn't even want to contest it.
StudMuffin looked at him for a long minute, he sighed and sat down,
"This expositional talking is fucking great, Marco, especially when it seems like I'm talking to a brick wall. Fuck your problems and sit down; you need to learn your tools, equipment and weapons and how to maintain them; because at least one of us has pull their weight."
Marco glared at the stoic face of StudMuffin, his skull mask somewhere in the hideout.
"…"
"Like a child not understanding the world around you, but that's second to what you really want: you want to know, don't you? If you're capable of it." He said without looking.
StudMuffin leaned forward, his scarred face twisting into maniacal sadistic glee,
"You want to know if you're capable of being evil."
Marco said nothing.
"You've never killed in cold-blood before, such a legendary weapon and not one drop of blood on it to your name, that aggravates you doesn't it? Marco Diaz, you've been put in situations where you question yourself. You think this lifestyle will give you the glimpse of that, it's ugly but is it evil?"
Marco stood there, he chewed his words, like a child being reprimanded by an older sibling.
"Do I look like a damn mind-reader? Spit it out already."
"I've been possessed by dark magic; had a malicious sentient wart put into me and now carry a title of a history stained in blood. If I am not evil, then I am tainted by it."
"Howling fuck, listen to yourself. If you think that so true, here take my revolver and blow your brains out."
"Fuck you, you heartless merc!"
"Then get the fuck out of here, Marco. You're wasting my time and yours. You came here to learn from me yet you squander my lessons over and over again."
"WHAT LESSONS!? You kill bystanders?! Take money from the poor?!"
StudMuffin lost his usual disinterested face, he looked deathly somber,
"I've taught you more than that, don't you fuckin' lie.
How about I taught you how to think before you act, you impulsive child. Just because something horrible is in front of you shouldn't mean you lose your composure. You show weakness and your enemies will exploit it until you're cornered and dead. I taught you to stealthy go about your business as to NOT bring bystanders into the damn crossfire lest they are taken, tortured and divulge information on us. Not to endanger yourself with others especially when you DO NOT know who they are or the situation and die along with them. You might have known these lessons before, Marco, in a different light and different perspective but it can come in so many forms that you are blind to it."
Marco nearly bowed his head, but StudMuffin caught the subtle head tilt.
"Besides those lessons...I taught you how to use a pistol, how to treat your injuries…I want to teach you how to fight using all the weapons I know…teach you how to strategize, methods to obtain information, infiltration, espionage, who to deal with in the mercenary world, how to choose a bounty or post, I can teach you the works."
"…"
"But that would amount to shit as you are now. It may be cruel to force you witness the Meat Market, but you can not help yourself, hero. You wanted to learn from me, as a Mercenary you're going to see and do things that you're not proud of; you're going ask yourself time and time again what the hell are you doing. And you will buckle from all you have wrought from battlefield to the next. So if you can not stomach the horrors of your actions, if you can not withstand the weight of your guilt and consequences then it is all wasted; you're better off with someone else."
"But—"
"You can't save them all, hero…"
"I can try."
"…then get ready to be disappointed. Guilt…is a heavy burden." The merc sighed.
"You would know?"
A strange look came across the merc's face.
"…I do."
Marco never fully agreed to StudMuffin's methodology, but he couldn't deny that the merc skill was peerless, even his hostile peers begrudgingly respected him. The mercenary had to have magical enhancement or had something supernatural about him.
Or juice.
"No. I've fought magicians before, but their powers are flimsy and unreliable, Marco. Listen well: you can fake a reputation, have the most elite weapons and armor but you can't fake raw skill, talent or discipline. If my opponents aren't wary when I have a spoon then its no different if I have a gun pointed at their head. Unlike you Marco, without that sword you're just a kid playing mercenary."
"But you use all of those." Marco frowned, gesturing to the side.
The merc looked at the weapons on the wall and shrugged, "Even if I don't have those when I fight, I can still be triumphant and that's the difference: if I'm nothing without my gear then they are my biggest weakness. Take it away and am I still a threat?"
The merc let Marco think about what he said before rifling through the pile of bounties on the table before sighing,
"Alright, get up. What's your sword arm?"
"My right."
The merc cuffed himself to Marco, giving him a wooden dagger to his left hand and him with his right.
"…I'm not left handed."
"Learn."
[There is no such thing as too many skills]
And the coming weeks he added more and more to his list.
From learning on the job, during their down time, on transit, on the field and even as he sewed himself up while the merc listed off things he would have to know for a new job. Marco took all that he was taught, he may not have liked what he learned…but he had come into terms with it.
He just sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to ever use it.
"Marco?"
"StudMuffin…you look old."
The merc spit to the side, "Fuck you, you've been gone for 5 years, shit sack. I thought you died in a ditch somewhere."
Marco blinked, "What? No, I was here yesterday."
The merc gave him a funny look, he looked at his face, "Vapid bitch, you haven't aged at all…"
"…"
He was brought up to speed by merc, finding out so much had happened in the span of the day he was gone. He had a sickening feeling form in his gut along with just a horrid thought drifting through his head.
Would he go through what had happened in Hekapoo's dimension all over again?
He resisted to go back home, worried that the next time he visited another 5 years would have passed for StudMuffin, losing out on time to learn from the mercenary. Sensing his dread, the merc told him to come back, he reassured him that he would be around.
And every time Marco came back…StudMuffin grew older and grayer with each visit.
The years the merc said Marco was gone worried him, this had never happened before…
And each new visit made Marco more and more sad seeing the once fearsome mercenary turn into a merc that could no longer fight as he once could.
"You act as if I'm an old man."
"You can't exactly fight like you used to."
"You mean like the time you had to step in as 'myself'? You're lucky no one caught on that you were me. You kept that facade for months."
"...yeah...months..." it never occurred to him that he posed as the merc for so long, it felt like...an afternoon to him
He got back to Echo Creek and made it back for dinner on time. He saw the merc looking at him and he masked it quickly.
"Yeah, I mean everyone would shit their pants if they saw 'you' suddenly running faster than them." he jabbed.
"You little shit."
The two laughed, StudMuffin couldn't bring Marco into the fray anymore or rather Marco couldn't have the merc on the field anymore. He was more content with him teaching him whilst in the hideout, the many guns he had, the weapons he found, made, looted, stole and the like along with things he invented or learned throughout his younger years. Marco's knowledge from his own and Mewni mentors were layered, complimented and supplemented by the mercenary, the hero growing in ways he had yet discovered.
Ultimately, Marco didn't think much of it at the time.
Only the difference between when they first met and worked together, it felt as if StudMuffin had finally gotten used to the fact he was his protégé.
The two worked inside the Hideout the rest of the day, the merc getting winded from some of the more menial tasks around the place, Marco helping him here and there. The two sat down around the table and silently reloaded gun magazines, making sure things were always ready to be used.
"..."
"I escaped death's icy fingers, thanks to you, Marco."
Marco looked up from putting bullets into the magazine, StudMuffin's gaze on clip, inspecting it.
"Oh. You're welcome."
"And thanks to you, commandeering my identity for a time, I've left a bigger impression than I had before in other dimensions. The moment you put my mask on, I knew…that you would write your own history far beyond my own:
I'm StudMuffin; Mercenary Extraordinaire…but so are you…"
"…"
The merc took his mask and handed it to Marco, he felt the mask leave the merc's hand and seemingly the mask felt a lot heavier when he first put it on.
"You're my protégé, Marco, my only legacy in this brutal world; in this whole dimension. Carry my name…carry the title wherever you go; from now on out, you're StudMuffin."
"You're getting awfully sentimental."
"Hmph, talk about a total chad."
And the two again worked in silence.
"…Marco, you gotta leave me…"
StudMuffin was slumped against the wall, a pool of blood collecting beneath him.
The smell of gunfire, smoke and blood permeate through the air, Marco looked at the elderly merc, soot and blood smeared across his young face.
"Damnit, why?! How could 16 years have passed?! This isn't Hekapoo's dimension, what the fuck is going on?!"
"JUST…GO…"
Marco gritted his teeth as the two hid inside the merc's hideout, crumbling from each successive blast from a turret and artillery shells. The dilapidated Meat Market blown to smithereens from the first volley.
It seemed when Marco had posed as StudMuffin years ago he inevitably made enemies and now all of them were collecting in droves.
"DAMNIT! This is all my fault!" Marco roared, he put the pistol over the barricade and fired blindly before swinging the Traitor's Sword and sending an arc, splitting mooks and goons apart.
"It is your fault, Marco… so own up to it." The merc coughed, he fished out his pipe and fondly lit it taking a deep puff and blowing it out, some of it escaping the bullet holes in his chest, "Show them StudMuffin is alive and kickin'."
Marco caught the skull mask thrown to him without a backward glance.
Marco didn't bother telling off the old man for his usual habit.
He didn't even see the pipe drop to the floor as he leapt over the cover and made corpses. Pistol in one hand and sword in the other, his skull mask gleamed hungrily as he cut them down and shot them dead.
Bullets swerved as Marco unleashed a tempest allowing him to close the distance.
Sword swing. Dead.
Shot to the face. Dead.
Marco was a whirlwind of death, each blade stroke felled someone, each bullet found flesh and bone. He threw the sword and warped to the faraway guns and dealt with them, tearing apart the weapons as he warped away again leaving it to blow up from lit powder kegs.
He came back drenched in blood, he surveyed his handiwork.
!?
Marco instinctively brought the sword into guard and deflected a shot from a trapped merc nearly crushed by ruin timber and brick. He sent a gust of wind from his sword, releasing the cowering mercenary, no older than he.
"Begone."
He watched the merc fled.
Knowing the name would grow far beyond the dimension.
He walked back to the ruined hideout, StudMuffin struggling to stay awake.
"…there's nothing left for you here now boy…take what you can…don't waste a thing…"
"…"
"…heh, did you expect something heartfe—OW FUCK, MARCO!"
Marco wrapped his arms around the merc, he cussed at him but he didn't want StudMuffin to see his tears even if the mask obscured it.
"…fuckin', always a damn hugger…heh, take care of yourself, hero." He said the last part bitterly soft.
His shoulders sagged and his head slumped against Marco's shoulder.
"…good bye, StudMuffin…you wrenched mercenary…"
"Marco? Marco! MARCO!"
He felt a sudden jolt to his system and looked around, Jackie and Janna were looking at him.
Past him.
He turned around to see Kelly standing outside the café window, her bushy green hair tied with a red scrunchie. She ran into the cafe, her claymore hanging off her back. Janna recognized her easily however Jackie only knew her as Star's friend, the way she spoke to Marco sounded awfully like—
"Why haven't you answered your phone?"
"What? Kelly, my phone hasn't rung—"
"Marco, look!"
She shoved her phone in front of him.
His stomach dropped.
"Marco, I couldn't reach you and when I went to Mewni they told me you left ages ago! But you were there a few days ago!"
Marco looked at the photo Kelly took:
A calendar.
"...how long was this."
"...I went there just this morning. It's been 6 months since you left Mewni, Marco."
I like my tried and true method of my Chapter formula.
Current Events + Flashback/Development Arc + PLOT BOMB = A good chapter.
At least I hope so.
I just kicked this timetable into overdrive.
Now let's see if Mewni can prop itself up in the meantime.
Time is weird.
The next chapter:
You abandoned your friends, and Mewni! Now pay for your betrayal!
tu ne me reconnaiss pas?
I AM NRG
END OF TRANSMISSION