Chapter Thirteen: Comfortably Numb

"Is this the place, Tremor?"

Confounder spoke quietly into a cell phone, staring at the soon-to-close Curative Cuisine. He'd been staking out the place for several hours, watching customers go in and out, all the while sitting idle on the other side of the road.

Tremor nodded on the other end. "Positive. The owner has a little girl named Rogue Arc, and a faunus girl just recently started working there. Not to mention the owner has ties to Roman Torchwick and Hei Xiong, might've thought he was safe to mess with the big man."

Confounder slowly nodded, rising to his feet as the last few customers left the store. Best keep as few witnesses as possible, just in case things get ugly.

The moment he entered, he let Comfortably Numb loose.

…

"Welcome to Curative—"

Blake paused her greeting as she saw the man that walked in.

He was a big brute of a man, wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a coat around his neck, despite using neither of the two sleeves. His hair was hidden by a black fedora with a purple stripe as its belt, his eyes by a pair of dark sunglasses.

"Um…can I—can I help you?"

Blake wasn't sure what it was, but something about the man made her head all fuzzy.

The man walked over to her, tilting his head down to look her in the eyes. "Where's the owner of this place?"

Blake lamely pointed at the kitchen.

Jaune, meanwhile, watched with the same strange fuzziness encroaching on him. Despite that, something about the man made it so he knew he was dangerous. He grabbed a knife from nearby, acting as though he were cleaning it with a rag as September infused it through his hands.

The man stopped at the counter, leaning on it as he spoke. "Jaune Arc."

Jaune nodded. "Sorry, sir, but we're closed. If you'd like I could—"

"I'm not here for the food."

Jaune frowned, letting his face look confused to distract from the alarm bells going off in his head. Now he knew the man was trouble. "Well, I'm…not sure why you'd come to a restaurant, then. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Where were you on September 4th?"

Jaune didn't dare let the recognition slip on his face. He knew full well where he was—beating the crap out of Egat Winchester with Blake was where he was—but the man didn't seem 100% sure of that just yet. "The fourth? I would've been here at work—well, unless it was during lunch or when I go pick up my daughter from school."

"You have a kid?"

Jaune nodded, forcing himself to smile as though he were simply happy thinking about Rogue (which, under normal circumstances, he probably would be). "Oh, yes! She's the most precious little thing—she's in bed right now."

The man nodded as two dark purple tendrils emerged from his back.

Jaune forced himself not to react, still smiling as the mist-like tendrils flew at his face, stopping just a hair in front of him. His eyes stayed focused on the man, one hand clutching the knife's handle as the other kept cleaning it.

The man's frown deepened as he removed his sunglasses, revealing his eyes to be a dark purple. "You can see my Comfortably Numb, can't you? The purple haze in front of your face?"

"I'm sorry, wha—"

Jaune's eyes widened as the man dashed onto the counter.

He dropped the cloth, swinging forward with his knife as September swung out at the tendrils—only for its fists to go right through them. Jaune's knife slammed into the man's thigh, only for him to grab his wrist. "I thought so."

POW!

Jaune staggered back as what looked like two fists slammed into his nose. He held his nose with one hand, his vision blurred as he saw three different men walking toward him. His voice was echoing in his head, rattling around just as his teeth were. "You're the one that beat Egat, aren't you?"

Jaune sent September forward, only for its fist to go right through the man.

POW!

Jaune fell to the ground, blood dripping from his nose as he felt a boot press into his stomach.

"Answer me."

"JAUNE!"

Confounder turned to see Blake rushing him, focusing as Comfortably Numb wrapped around her head as well. He watched her stumble as a black, shadow-like stand emerged. Called out her stand that fast? Doesn't matter, can't control it if she—

His eyes widened as the stand slammed him into the wall.

What the—!?

From Shadows—unreliant on Blake's mental state—threw the man back into the dining room. It watched impassively as his stand flew back with him, forming a thick, purple cloud around him.

Three tendrils flew at From Shadows, only to phase right through it.

Confounder stared in disbelief at the stand effortlessly combating his own. How is this possible? Comfortably Numb should've neutralized both Jaune and that faunus girl! How is it still fighting?

From Shadows dashed forward, Confounder powerless to stop it as it slammed his head into the wall.

Blake and Jaune, now free from Comfortably Numb's influence, rose to their feet. Both gazed into the dining room, watching as From Shadows held Confounder in a headlock. Before either could speak, or even move for that matter, From Shadows reared its hands back, twisting Confounder's neck in a way that definitely wasn't natural.

Blake frowned as her eyes flicked to Jaune. "I think B.B. Laz found us."

"And From Shadows just killed one of his men."

The two were silent for a moment, absorbing the full impact of what had just occurred.

Jaune looked at the door for a moment before approaching the body, calling out September. His eyes were emotionless as he stared at the corpse, September rearing back a fist.

"Jaune? Jaune, what're you—"

"ARA ARA ARA!"

In three barrages, Confounder's body was nothing but a fine, red paste on the wall. If Blake didn't know better, she'd think someone had simply smashed a paint can against the wall. Well, if it weren't for the smell, anyway.

"Go upstairs, Blake."

"But—"

"Go."

Jaune waited until he heard Blake—after hesitating for a beat—scamper upstairs before he pulled out his scroll. He typed a number from memory, never daring to save it in his contacts. He waited with bated breath as it rang once, twice, three times.

It clicked. "Hello?"

"Dinner reservation for one, Curative Cuisine. Now."

"…for whom?"

"A B.B. Laz stand-up."

Jaune ended the call, sitting on a nearby chair and staring at the red stain on his wall. Never thought I'd get mixed up in a murder outside of Mistral.

Thirty minutes later, five men entered Curative Cuisine. One of them Jaune recognized as Roman Torchwick, the other four assumingly under his employ. Those four got to work straight away, cleaning away the blood mist and repairing the place—making it look like he'd never been there.

Roman, meanwhile, approached Jaune. "Do you have any idea who that was?"

"One of B.B. Laz's men, I know that much."

Roman nodded, his normally confident expression replaced with one of deadly seriousness. "This is Chad Cest, a.k.a. The Confounder. He is—well, was thanks to you—B.B. Laz's interrogator. He's the man who killed Egat Winchester. Rumor has it his stand makes it impossible for other stand users to attack it."

Jaune shook his head, sitting down at the counter as Roman did the same. "Not exactly. His stand impaired the judgment of everyone nearby. Blake's stand has a mind of its own, so it wasn't affected. It killed him to stop the effects."

Roman slowly shook his head, taking out a cigar. "Want one? This day's about to get stressful for both of us."

Jaune paused for a moment. "Hit me."

Jaune took the cigar from Roman, lighting it off his lighter before leaning back. The smoke had little effect beyond muddling his thoughts just a bit—mostly due to not having smoked one in several years. "So now what?"

Roman blew a puff of smoke, turning to Jaune.

"Now? Now we go to war."