Jaune sped west, his body practically breaking the sound barrier as he bolted out of Vale. Sand and dust whipped around him, the barren wasteland stretching endlessly beneath the blistering sun. Vacuo. The lawless desert. "The safest place for me now," Jaune muttered to himself, kicking up a cloud of sand. He wasn't running because he wanted to; he was running because he had to. He couldn't let anyone else get caught up in his mess.

His family had been released when there was no proof that they were involved in anything Jaune had done. That was a weight off his chest, at least. But now, he was the one branded a terrorist—a walking target. The law was everywhere in the Kingdoms. Except in Vacuo. There, the only law was survival, and that was something Jaune knew he could handle.

"If you can survive, you're welcome," he muttered, repeating the unspoken motto of the lawless desert. The corners of his mouth tugged into a bitter smile. "Guess I'm about to find out."

His scroll beeped at his side, its solar charger catching the harsh desert rays. That was one good thing about Vacuo: plenty of sun. He wouldn't have to worry about running out of power. Jaune sighed, glancing around the empty wasteland. "Water, though… yeah, that's gonna be a problem." He could easily build a hut or a camp with his semblance. Shelter was the easy part. Living, though? That would require a little more creativity.

And money. Jaune wasn't exactly rolling in cash these days. The small stash of lien he'd taken when he fled his home? Gone. Spent on supplies for the journey. He scratched the back of his head. "I could work as a mercenary, I guess… under a different name… nah." He shook his head. "Not like people here care. Most of 'em don't even watch the news. Who has time for scrolls when you're trying not to die of dehydration?"

As Jaune wandered, the air shifted. Something felt… off. There was a faint rumbling in the distance, and a strange metallic screech. Jaune's eyes narrowed. He crouched low, his body tense, listening carefully to the wind.

"A train?" He leaped up a nearby dune and peered into the valley below. Sure enough, there it was—an old, rusted train. But something was wrong. It had stopped in the middle of the valley, smoke billowing from one of its engines.

Jaune closed his eyes, his aura-enhanced senses stretching out. He could hear… voices. Hundreds of them, muffled inside the train. His heart sank as he listened to their hushed conversations, pain and fear lacing their words.

"Papa, my tummy hurts…"

"Think they'll give us dry food again? I don't want that."

"They won't."

"Shut up! Stop talking. I'm trying to think—"

"Just give us some food already!"

A rough voice barked back. "Stand down or face the consequences!"

"Fuck your consequences! I've had it!"

Another voice snickered. "Hey, Chris, that girl over there looks… tasty."

"Which one?"

"The fox faunus."

A pause. "You're right… But remember what happened when Jack messed with one of them?"

"Yeah, but he gave her a burger after. I could give this one a… uh… pizza?"

Jaune's eyes snapped open, his hands shaking as his fists clenched tightly at his sides. His stomach churned with rage. He gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening so hard it hurt. This wasn't a train full of passengers. This was a slave transport. The guards, wearing Atlas military insignia, were lounging around, lazily repairing the broken tracks. Some were chatting, others snacking, completely indifferent to the cries of the captives inside the cars.

Jaune's breathing hitched. He could hear the wailing of infants inside. Some were hungry, others sick. And those guards? They didn't care. To them, the people inside weren't even human. They were cargo.

There was a line in front of him—a point where, if he crossed it, they'd see him. Jaune stared at the train, frozen. He was already a wanted criminal in Vale. Taking on Atlas soldiers in Vacuo? That'd be suicide. He could feel the weight of his choices bearing down on him like a boulder. His life was a mess. It was supposed to be better by running away. Not worse.

Jaune took a deep breath, his thoughts churning. Could he risk everything again? Should he?

He stepped forward. "I'll talk to them," he muttered under his breath, the words barely audible over the wind. He knew it was a long shot, but if offering himself meant saving those people? He'd do it. No question. "If they take me in exchange for their freedom…" His voice wavered, the gravity of his decision pressing down hard on his chest. "I'll do it in a heartbeat."

Jaune hopped onto the train with the grace of someone who definitely wasn't planning to get shot at. As soon as his boots hit the ground, the guards lounging around with snacks in hand shot up like they'd just sat on a cactus. Guns were drawn. Fingers on triggers.

"Freeze!" one of the guards barked, a little too eagerly for someone roasting in the desert heat.

Jaune blinked, giving them an awkward smile. "Freeze? Dude, we're in a desert," he said, trying to keep his voice casual. "I can't freeze, unless… I dunno, you brought an ice machine?"

The guard hesitated, processing Jaune's words like he'd just been hit with an existential crisis. But then recognition dawned, and his face drained of color. "Oh no, it's Jaune Arc!"

Panic set in. Fingers tensed on the triggers. Jaune immediately raised his hands, palms out, flashing what he hoped was a reassuring grin. "Hey, whoa, whoa! No need to go full Rambo on me. I'm here to surrender."

The guards exchanged bewildered looks. "Surrender?" One of them echoed, as if they'd never heard that word before.

Then, from behind the group, a man with a face that could probably scare the wrinkles off a prune stepped forward. A massive scar ran down his cheek, making him look like he'd fought a grimm with his bare hands—and probably lost. "You said the same thing back in Vale, right before you almost killed Ozpin," the scarred man sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Jaune swallowed hard, giving a half-shrug. "Yeah, uh… well, I'm serious this time."

"Right," Scarface drawled, raising an eyebrow. "And what's your game this time, Arc?"

"No games," Jaune replied, trying to steady his voice. "Just… a deal. You let these people go, and I'll come with you. No trouble, no tricks."

The guards stared at him, then at each other. The air grew tense with disbelief.

Scarface narrowed his eyes. "A deal? Why the hell would I agree to that?"

"Because," Jaune began, taking a breath. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he couldn't back down now. "Imagine the honor you'll get for catching the biggest criminal in the Kingdoms. You'll be a hero. You'll probably get a medal, maybe even a promotion." He paused for effect, raising an eyebrow. "Plus, let's be real… these people are just workers. No one cares about them. But me? I'm a trophy."

The man paused, clearly thinking it over. His sneer deepened. "You're trying to win public sympathy by playing the hero, aren't you?"

Jaune's mouth twitched into a grim smile. "Come on, captain, who're we kidding? These people are treated worse than prisoners, and you know it."

Scarface's lip curled, but he didn't argue. Instead, he pulled out his scroll, barking orders to his men. "Keep an eye on him. Don't let him try anything."

The captain stepped away to make a call. Jaune could hear him talking to someone—Schnee? Ironwood? Whoever it was, they were higher up the food chain than these goons. After a minute, he returned, tossing Jaune the scroll.

"Talk," he ordered.

Jaune caught it and pressed the button. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end was smooth, calculated. "Mr. Arc, what a pleasure. I am the chairman of the Schnee Dust Company and have been eagerly awaiting a conversation with you. Is it true? Are you really surrendering?"

"Yeah," Jaune said, his throat tight. "I surrender, but only if you release the workers. All of them."

There was a pause, then a chuckle. "You think this is some noble cause, don't you? Trying to sway public opinion in your favor? Fascinating. You and I think quite alike."

Jaune shook his head, even though the person on the other end couldn't see him. "No. I don't care what people think. This is just my nindo."

The voice hummed in amusement. "Very well. You'll be taken to one of our dust factories. The workers will be released there. But don't expect any special treatment. We're not running a hotel here."

Before Jaune could respond, the call ended. The guards immediately slapped a pair of high-tech handcuffs on him—way fancier than anything Vale had. Jaune didn't resist as they led him to the first car of the train, the Faunus workers staring at him like he was some kind of alien. There was this one kid, a scrawny guy with wide eyes, recording everything on his scroll.

"Holy crap," the kid whispered excitedly. "The SDC just caught the Wooden Demon! This is freaking going viral on RemTube!"

Jaune couldn't help but roll his eyes. Of course someone was livestreaming this.

Then, the ground started shaking. Jaune's body stiffened. Around him, the soldiers tensed, gripping their weapons.

"Earthquake?!" one of the guards, Justin, yelled, his eyes wide.

Jaune's stomach dropped. His inhuman senses picking up the malicious steps. "No," he muttered under his breath. "It's something worse."

Justin turned to him, glaring. "What did you do, Arc? Did you bring them here?! Was this your plan all along?!"

Jaune's heart raced as he glanced toward the horizon. He could feel them now, like an ominous wave crashing towards them. "No," Jaune stuttered, shaking his head. "I didn't—"

"Boss," the kid with the scroll cut in, his face pale, but still streaming. "What… what are you talking about?"

Justin's voice dropped into a growl. "Grimm. They're here."

The kid blinked, then shrugged. "Oh… well, that's not—"

"No, kid," Justin interrupted, his voice grim. "It's not just a pack. It's an army."

—X~X—

The train screeched forward, accelerating to an almost comical level of discomfort. It was as if the very mention of a "Grimm army" had sent the entire train into panic mode, cranking the throttle to the max. Soldiers inside scrambled, clumsy and chaotic, like a disorganized herd of cats, trying to do something, though no one seemed to know exactly what.

Jaune stood by the window, his eyes widening at the sight of the impending horde a kilometer ahead—an army of Grimm, varied and grotesque. It was like watching a tidal wave of death and destruction roll towards them. He let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Yep. We're screwed."

Just then, the most nonsensical chatter hit his ears.

"Rock-paper-scissors?" one soldier suggested, his voice casual, as if they were deciding who was buying lunch.

Jaune blinked. What?

Another soldier nodded eagerly, as if the concept made complete sense. "Yeah, loser goes first."

Jaune's brain stalled. "First… for what?"

"Dying, duh." The soldier rolled his eyes as if that should've been obvious.

Jaune's jaw practically hit the floor. "Are you—" He threw his hands in the air. "—Are you serious right now?!"

Before he could rip into them for being absolute morons, Justin stormed over, practically seething. He smacked the group on the head—hard enough to knock a few brain cells loose. "Get your heads out of your asses and prepare the flying bikes! We're leaving!"

Rubbing their heads, the soldiers grumbled but scrambled to get the bikes ready. They had forty of them—just enough to carry all the soldiers to safety.

But Jaune's gut churned as he did a quick headcount. "Wait. Forty bikes, forty soldiers… what about the prisoners?" He pointed at the large group of Faunus huddled at the back.

Justin barely spared them a glance. "They're Faunus, Arc. Not our problem."

Jaune's blood ran hot. He stepped closer to Justin, fists clenched. "They're people, Justin. Innocent people."

"They're expendable." Justin spat the words like poison. "We're not risking our lives for a bunch of Faunus who probably got themselves locked up for a reason."

Jaune's voice lowered to a deadly calm, his blue eyes blazing. "If you're not going to protect them, then watch me."

In one swift motion, he grabbed his cuffs and snapped them like they were paper. Metal clattered to the floor, and the entire train car went dead silent. The soldiers stared at him, dumbfounded.

"What the hell—" Justin started, but Jaune wasn't listening anymore. His eyes were locked on the open desert.

Without a word, Jaune bolted toward the door, jumped from the speeding train, and hit the sand below with a heavy thud. The train sped away, leaving him behind in the middle of nowhere.

It was only as the train disappeared into the distance that Jaune realized he had royally, spectacularly messed up. He stood there, utterly alone, surrounded by nothing but open desert—and an entire army of Grimm marching towards him. His heart pounded in his chest. His semblance might be able to fend off a few, maybe a hundred if he pushed himself—but a whole battalion? Not a chance.

Jaune's breath came in sharp gasps as reality set in. "I am so dead."

Back on the train, the soldiers and prisoners watched in stunned silence, Jaune's lone figure shrinking as they sped away. One soldier frowned, nudging his buddy. "Uh… is he, like, having a panic attack or something? Why's he just… standing there?"

One of the Faunus prisoners watched nervously. "Is he… attracting the Grimm to him?"

Meanwhile, the rookie soldier continued his ridiculous livestream, scroll outstretched as he recorded everything. "Folks! History is being made right now! Jaune Arc, one man against an entire Grimm army! Will he survive? Stay tuned!"

Jaune, still in the open desert, darted his eyes around. The ground trembled as the Grimm closed in, their monstrous forms blotting out the horizon. Desperate, he sprinted at hypersonic speed, sand exploding behind him as he tried to outrun them. But they had encircled him, hundreds of them. The train had been forced to stop, trapped by a swarm of Nevermores overhead, their dark wings cutting the sky like a death sentence.

He skidded to a halt, heart racing. No way out.

Jaune closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was no room for fear now. He summoned his wooden sword, Katana, the weapon glowing faintly in his hands.

"You want me?" he shouted, his voice ringing out across the desert. "Then come get me!"

And then, with horror, he realized what he had just said.

The Grimm roared in response, surging forward, a wall of claws and teeth coming straight for him.

"I am soooo screwed!"

Instinct kicked in. Jaune swung Katana, his arms moving faster than his brain could process. Whoosh. The blade sliced through the air, and without even touching them, the Grimm fell in droves. Their bodies collapsed, cut clean in half, littering the sand. Jaune blinked in disbelief. He hadn't even reached them.

But behind the fallen Grimm, the true scope of his power was revealed. A massive sand dune, hundreds of meters tall, had been cleaved in two, sliced clean like it was nothing more than a fruit being prepped for a pie.

On the train, soldiers and Faunus alike stared in awe. One soldier whispered, "Did he just… break off our cuffs, jump off a hypersonic train, and now he's fighting an army of Grimm?!"

The rookie, still livestreaming, leaned into the camera with a dramatic grin. "Jaune Arc is truly the KING, folks!"

The Faunus prisoners were just as stunned. They'd seen Jaune willingly surrender to save them, and now here he was, taking on a whole army for their sake. It started as a whisper. "Arc… Arc… Arc…"

The chant spread like wildfire, growing louder and more insistent, until it filled the train.

"ARC! ARC! ARC!"

All while Jaune, in the distance, continued to fight—instinctively, stupidly, but with deadly precision. Grimms of all shapes and sizes came at him: Beowolves with razor-sharp claws, Ursa Majors twice his size, and Beringels with fists that could pulverize rock. He dodged, parried, and struck with a speed that made his own head spin. His wooden sword tore through the beasts like they were made of paper, and yet, all Jaune could think was, What the hell am I doing?

One massive Beowolf lunged at him, jaws snapping, and Jaune ducked on instinct, swinging Katana upward. The beast's head flew off, landing several feet away. Oops, he thought, realizing how effortlessly he'd killed it.

But there was no time to marvel. A Nevermore swooped down from the sky, its talons ready to snatch him up. Jaune rolled out of the way, barely dodging, then swung his sword upward. The Nevermore's wing was severed, sending the massive creature crashing into the sand.

"Arc! Arc! Arc!" The chant from the train grew louder, more frenzied.

Jaune spun, slicing through Grimm after Grimm, his body moving faster than his mind could keep up with. The world was watching.

Jaune stood panting, sword in hand, surrounded by the smoldering remains of Grimm he'd just cleaved in half. But his brief moment of triumph was cut short as a new wave emerged from the desert. Bigger. Meaner. Uglier. Some towered over him like walking skyscrapers, others moved with terrifying speed. But he wasn't backing down. Not today. Not with millions watching him live.

The rookie, still recording, sounded way too enthusiastic for someone witnessing potential doom. "Folks, we're now at three million views! This is officially the craziest fight I've ever streamed. Watch Jaune Arc, the Man, the Myth—"

"SHUT UP!" Jaune yelled between labored breaths, slicing through another Beowolf that dared charge him.

But the Grimm didn't stop. As one force fell, another—bigger, stronger—rose from the horizon. Their red eyes glowing like a nightmare. Jaune gritted his teeth. He'd already blown through most of his moves, but there was no way he could quit now. He conjured a massive wooden wall, spikes erupting from it to impale an advancing Beringel. The giant beast let out a guttural roar, trying to break free, but Jaune's spikes twisted and tore it apart like string cheese.

"Okay, okay! That worked!" Jaune gasped, wiping sweat from his forehead, which quickly reformed from the oppressive heat.

But his relief didn't last. A strange, unique-looking Grimm slithered from the mass, its skin glistening like ice. It spat a blast of freezing mist, encasing the ground in a thick layer of frost. A deathly chill hung in the air as the temperature dropped drastically.

"Are you kidding me?!" Jaune yelled. His wooden spikes froze, cracking under the sudden cold. He swung Katana at it, but the blade merely glanced off its icy skin. "Oh, come on! Not now!"

Jaune tried everything—wooden shields, spikes, even throwing rocks—but it was all useless. His limbs moved on autopilot, and suddenly, as if his body had a mind of its own, he found himself forming hand signs he didn't even know he could do.

"Fire Style: Great Flame Annihilation!"

Wait… what?!

A massive wave of fire exploded from his hands, roaring like a hungry beast. The air crackled, and the already sweltering desert was suddenly blasted with five hundred degrees of scorching heat. The sand beneath his feet sizzled and glassed over, and the frost Grimm and hundreds of its minions were instantly turned to ash.

Jaune stood there, blinking at his hands. "Did I just—?"

Jaune wiped the sweat from his brow again. He hadn't just fought—he'd scorched the earth, shattered records, and even if he wanted to run away…

The rookie's voice cut through the awe. "Folks! Folks! Are you seeing this? Jaune Arc just cooked an entire Grimm army! We are at four million live viewers, people!"

Suddenly, the battlefield darkened as the remaining Grimm were shrouded in an ominous mist, rising eerily into the air. Jaune watched, wide-eyed, as they were sucked together at breakneck speed, forming a grotesque amalgamation—a towering, fat, humanoid Grimm, uglier than sin itself. It glared down at Jaune, as if mocking him.

Jaune swung his katana with all the strength he could muster, but the blade barely made a dent. The Grimm let out a thunderous roar, almost like it was laughing. "Oh, hell no," Jaune muttered. His fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and for once, flight seemed like the way to go. He spun on his heel, ready to bolt. Get the hell out of here, his brain screamed.

But no. The Grimm had other plans.

As Jaune turned, the creature clapped its meaty hands together. He could swear he heard it mumble something like, "Ryouiki Tenkai." What the heck did that mean?

A dark purple sphere formed around the entire area, trapping him, the train, the Faunus prisoners, and all the soldiers. Panic surged through Jaune as he dodged a sudden invisible slash that sliced clean through the ground where he stood.

The train occupants watched in growing horror. "Can he even win?" a Faunus prisoner whispered, wide-eyed.

The rookie soldier, still livestreaming the insanity, shouted, "Welcome to the climax, folks! Jaune Arc versus the most hideous boss Grimm in history! Can our boy save his own ass? Or is he about to get his cheeks clapped?"

Meanwhile, Jaune was just trying to stay alive. The massive Grimm bolted toward him, faster than its bulk should've allowed. Jaune barely rolled out of the way as its colossal fist smashed into the earth where he stood, sending chunks of dirt flying.

Oh, come on! I'm just a guy with a wooden sword! Jaune threw up his signature wooden walls, hoping for a moment's respite. But the Grimm's next hit crumbled them to dust like they were made of wet tissue paper. He thought about using the umbrella-shaped structure he'd conjured back in Vale to protect civilians. But at this rate, that thing might hold off a few hits before turning to splinters.

Desperate, Jaune flashed hand signs again. "Fire Style: Great Flame Annihilation!"

Flames burst forth, momentarily halting the monster, but it shook off the flames like they were a mild annoyance and charged again.

Inside the train, Justin, the battle-hardened commander, stood stone-faced, watching the fight. "Arc's tough, way tougher than anyone thought," he muttered, glancing at the shaking soldiers. "But this Grimm... it's a fusion of thousands. Can he actually pull this off?"

Jaune, on the other hand, wasn't thinking about pulling anything off—he was thinking about pulling out and running for dear life. But that dark purple sphere still trapped them all.

He swung his katana again, this time connecting squarely with the Grimm's… crotch?

The monster paused for a beat, letting out a confused grunt. Jaune blinked. "Wait… your weak spot is… your ass?"

With renewed energy, Jaune slashed at the creature's rear again and again. Though the cuts were deep, the Grimm simply shrugged them off. Jaune needed a better plan. Something big, something—

Suddenly, his eyes lit up. He remembered building a house for Casine and Billy back in Vale. What if he tried something similar? But… bigger?

Without really knowing what he was doing, Jaune clasped his hands together. "Wood Release: Five Raging Dragons!"

The ground trembled beneath him as silence settled over the battlefield. The Grimm charged again, its claws aiming straight for Jaune's chest. He braced for impact, but before the attack could land, four massive wooden dragons, their bodies long like serpents and their heads shaped like snarling beasts, erupted from the earth. Each one latched onto one of the Grimm's limbs, biting down hard.

The Grimm roared, trying to shake them off, but the dragons held fast. Their wood wasn't ordinary; it was stronger, more durable, and surprisingly effective.

Jaune blinked in shock. "Wait… I can control them?"

He focused his mind, and as if responding to his command, a fifth dragon shot up from the ground, snaking its way toward the Grimm's crotch. The dragon sank its teeth in, creating a hole.

"Oh… no…" Jaune muttered, realizing what he'd just set in motion.

The wooden dragon dove through the hole, tunneling into the Grimm. The creature let out a final, pained roar as its body convulsed, then exploded into a cloud of black mist. The dark veil over the sky vanished, and the battlefield fell silent once more.

The wooden dragons, their job done, slowly disintegrated, leaving Jaune standing alone in the desert, staring blankly at the spot where the massive Grimm had once stood.

"What… just happened?" Jaune asked himself, still trying to process the chaos. "Why can't I just have a normal day?"

Just when he thought the craziness was over, he heard shouting from behind. The Faunus prisoners, the soldiers, everyone on the train were sprinting toward him. Before he could even react, they lifted him into the air, bouncing him like a victorious athlete.

"Arc! Arc! Arc!" they chanted, their voices growing louder and more triumphant.

Jaune's head spun. "Is this… for real?"

It was.

Unfortunately, with that many people watching, there would definitely be some who'd misinterpret the tale.

And of course, the rookie soldier wasn't helping. His livestream was still going strong. "Six and a half million views, folks! You just watched Jaune Arc save the day and destroy the biggest Grimm ever! Our hero!"

Jaune sighed. He was supposed to be a hero… he is now— sort of, but now he looked like a one-man wrecking crew.

Just his luck.

—X~X—

"Jaune Arc: The Wooden Demon!"

"Folks, buckle up because this one's straight out of your wildest nightmares. Jaune Arc, once a clumsy boy, is now wrecking havoc across Vacuo with a vengeance. After fleeing Vale like a cat with its tail between its legs, Jaune is turning heads again—this time and you're not going to believe what he's been up to.

That's right, Jaune Arc has insulted, mocked, and downright humiliated Atlas' top-notch SDC soldiers just like he did in the Beacon Academy. Like some twisted déjà vu, he promised to surrender—then bam! Broke free in a blaze of wood and flames, leaving those poor soldiers in his dust.

Now, here's where it gets wild. The soldiers were transporting Faunus workers when, out of nowhere, Jaune popped up. And like clockwork, for the first time in human history, a literal army of thousands of Grimm swarmed the scene. That's not an exaggeration, folks. We're talking swarms. Thousands! But guess what?

Jaune. Arc. Fought. Them. All.

And he didn't just survive. Oh no. This twisted man fought and defeated the entire Grimm army, single-handedly, in under half an hour. Not a scratch, not a drop of sweat.

He not only defeated the entire army, but also defeated the biggest Grimm in history. And how did he do it? Let's just say you might want to sit down for this one... He defeated that huge Grimm by—get this—shoving his wooden creation straight into the beast's... well... let's just say no Grimm is safe from Jaune Arc's depravity. Yes, folks, you heard me right. The demon's got no boundaries. His wooden structures? Downright gross. The guy's more twisted than a Faunus' tail after a whirlwind. He is a SEXUAL PREDATOR. A perverted psychopath who has no morals.

Are we just unlucky? Is this all some terrible coincidence? I don't know. But, if this keeps up, we might be looking at Jaune Arc, King of Vacuo. And, gods forbid, he might just come for Vale next for revenge.

Now, the people are divided! Some call him a terrorist, a criminal mastermind, while others—tragically confused—believe he's a hero, a savior sent from the heavens. Let's take a look at some of those public opinions, shall we?"

A middle-aged man in a plaid shirt shakes his head, exasperated. "Jaune Arc? Man's a menace, straight up. You telling me one guy took out a whole Grimm army and didn't even break a nail? Nah, that's some evil mastermind stuff. We gotta stop him before he takes over the whole damn continent!"

A young woman with bright pink hair looks into the camera, starry-eyed. "Jaune Arc is a hero! Y'all don't understand, he's misunderstood. He's only trying to protect us! The Grimm attacked first, didn't they? And he beat them, fair and square. Jaune's just… incredible."

An old woman, knitting furiously, grumbles, "Hero my foot! That boy's trouble. I've seen heroes, and they don't stick wooden spikes up Grimm's behinds! Disgusting! Where's the chivalry?"

A celebrity, sunglasses hiding half his face, smirks. "Jaune? Man's making headlines, I love it. Beats the same boring huntsmen, ya know? Sure, he's a little wild, but isn't that what we need these days? Drama. I'm rooting for him."

And finally, a critic with an air of superiority sneers, "Jaune Arc is nothing but a glorified anarchist. You can dress it up however you want, but his actions are reckless. He's a danger to society. The sooner we stop pretending he's a hero, the better."

"And now, folks, the pièce de résistance! A little RemTube edit's been making the rounds—a beautifully crafted clip of Jaune Arc's epic showdown with the Grimm army. The edit makes him look like some kind of divine savior, slashing through monsters with grace, fire, and style. But don't be fooled! It's all smoke and mirrors, designed to trick the weak-minded into joining his cult! Yes, I said cult! Don't drink the wooden Kool-Aid, people."

Lisa lowers her voice, her eyes widening.

"Prepare yourselves, everyone, because if Jaune Arc's rampage continues, we're all in for some dark times ahead. The guy's not just a threat anymore—he's becoming the final boss. The big bad wolf. And you better believe he's coming for us next."

—X~X—

Author Note:

That was… an interesting ride. So, Jaune officially accepted that he is an unlucky monster. He wanted to be seen as a hero, but now, he is a…uh… messiah? That's good, right?

Wrong!

What do you want next before we spice up things more?

Do drop your thoughts in the review section. They inspire me to write faster, better and larger.

I plan on updating more than ten stories of mine this weekend. Stay tuned for more!

Till next time.

~Phoenix.