Chapter 60: Luck Ran Out
*back at it again, developing the story bit by bit. I suggest you all pay attention to details from now on, cuz we're going on a nice ride :))
Let me know what you think. Peace out and Deus vult.*
Thus, the three of them ended their dance. It had somehow turned into quite the performance, and Mark didn't fail to notice some phones recording them as it happened. If he'd find images online of it on whatever version of social media that universe had, he'd be pretty screwed.
"This way, Acheron," he said as he gently tugged on her coat, pulling her the right way.
She turned around, following him, and rather than taking wrong turns, she simply grabbed on to his coat, holding slightly to him. Black Swan walked by their side, looking disheveled. Mark couldn't help but laugh.
"Come on now, light up. You didn't have to face that thing head-on like I did. It was quite the experience I don't want to go through again."
She stared at him with a worried expression, which was slowly turning to her usual one that seemed to hold a touch of amusement.
"I can't comprehend how that managed to get inside your mind. You're quite the strange Nameless..."
She leaned closer, staring into his eyes, this time not to take a peek at the wrong things but just to express her interest. Mark knew about her passion for memories and the thing she ended up doing for it—how she gave up her physical form in order to become a Memokeeper. It was something that he didn't quite agree with but understood.
His thoughts were interrupted as she placed a finger beneath his chin, lifting his head a little as she broke any barrier meant for personal space. Her breath was warm on his lips, and his heart almost stopped. Still, his expression was kept firm, hiding whatever was going on inside. Instead, he offered a half-lipped smile.
"What are you doing?"
She looked into his eyes, speaking in a low voice.
"So many memories must be tied to you, and yet... I can't see any of them. What a shame. I bet they're wonderful."
Mark shook his head and pulled back. Acheron at his side said nothing, but she simply followed Black Swan with her gaze, blissfully unaware of the effect she's had on the Memokeeper. Both of them were monsters for beings like her, creatures who could devour or tear them to nothingness. Such was the strange duo that were united by something unspoken.
"Yeah, sorry, but my memories are mine alone. I treasure them as much as you do, but I wouldn't go as far as you went in order to collect them. Witnessing the past of something, gathering the memories of things that were, keeping them forever... one would think it an insane task. Not me, however. It's wonderful. I had a collection of trinkets back at home from random things. It was something as simple as a bottle cap that I had from a special event," blabbered Mark, the trip walking back to the reception.
"I see, so you also love collecting memories in one way or another. You'd make for a good Memokeeper, Mark," chuckled Black Swan, still a touch too close for comfort with him. Seeing how much he tried to keep a straight face only made her wish to push further, until he'd crack and turn into a blushing mess.
"Anyway, we're back in the lobby. Sorry, ladies, but I have an 'appointment' to catch up to. I guess we'll see each other around, right?"
Acheron let go of his coat, nodding as she offered a tiny smile. Black Swan waved gently, watching him depart.
He didn't know how fast he walked, but he had gotten into his room in just a few minutes, away from anyone and everything. His heart was a mess, beating like crazy, but he was slowly adapting to the situation. It was until a specific point that such things had a strong effect on him.
"Well, screw it. Time for my dive into the dream world."
He settled down into the strange pool of liquid, feeling as though it didn't soak his clothes. It was a strange, cold experience that didn't really feel normal from any point of view. What else did he expect? Nothing about it was normal. He simply submerged himself in the liquid until just his head peeked out. The recorded voice kept blabbering instructions that he didn't need, focusing on the process itself. Mark just closed his eyes, focusing on the dream, and slowly, his consciousness sank deeper and deeper.
Flashes of the past and unknown scenes crossed before him, screams and shouts filling his ears. He saw flashes of dark shapes that moved around, chaos flowing through his mind as his memory sank deeper into the dream.
"What the?!" he shouted, standing up at once. He was in the same room, but floating objects let him know easily that it was the dream world. The images he saw didn't falter, persisting instead in his mind. Shadows, thousands of them—the very things that kept coming for him, threatening to ruin his mind.
"Just what the hell is going on? Ah, damn it..."
He walked around, hearing a familiar voice call out to him. It was the same boy that had offered to help with the luggage at first.
A weird painting of sorts with hands tearing space itself open was silently watching over him from the corner of the room. He got closer to it, only to step right through and meet Misha.
"Welcome to the Gallery of Thoughts! You can think of this as the entrance to the Golden Hour. I'm here to provide guidance to our guests."
Mark smiled a little, nodding to the boy.
"A pleasure to see you again. I hope it's all going fine."
He was surprised, smiling despite himself.
"You remember me? I'm so glad. And yes, everything is alright. I've met a lot of interesting people."
Mark chuckled, glad at the boy's joyous demeanor. Something about him still buzzed in his mind, but he chose to focus on the moment. Perhaps out of instinct, Mark chose to softly pat the boy on the shoulder, his touch firm.
"That's good. Glad to hear that you're having fun while working. It's what matters most, right? Doing a job you hate... I don't want to go through it again."
Misha nodded, but he stared at his shoulder for a moment longer.
"I understand. Well, you should have no problem in the Golden Hour. All your worries shall dissipate."
Mark nodded, going ahead.
"I'll keep that in mind. Take care, alright?"
His steps carried him on the platform and up to the other weird painting. They were doors, but the eerie way they worked bugged Mark out a bit.
As he got further away, Misha tapped his shoulder, somewhat confused.
"That felt odd for some reason," he whispered, trying to understand what had happened. Still, there was nothing to be done about it, so he returned to his duties.
Mark stepped through that entrance, only to find himself in the same situation as Stelle. He was falling from the sky, just like Stelle must have. The spot where she had crash-landed was visible as he got closer to the ground. Still, he didn't waste a moment, powering the Stellarons to prepare his body for the impact. With a strong movement of his lower body, he angled himself legs first, hands kept in the pockets of the coat, the lower part of it dangling against the air.
"Just like this," he muttered as the people from below watched, surprised to see another one come in like that. Rather than falling in an embarrassing manner, he crashed legs first against the ground, increasing the size of the crater, but he stood up without issue. He glanced around at the people, who were watching in awe.
With nonchalance, he took out his phone, noticing a few messages from Himeko and March. Both had been waiting for a while, and seeing as he bailed out, they simply left a message saying 'brace yourself for when we meet', which sent a cold shiver down his spine. It wasn't a good sign, that much was for sure. He sent a quick text saying 'Sorry, got busy with investigating stuff' which was a lie, considering that he had gone dancing. Well, it wasn't a full-on lie since both Acheron and Black Swan played a large role from what his mind's sharp pain could tell.
Despite it being a dream world, he still felt the pain from his thoughts, meaning that it was something deeply tied to his existence as a whole, not just his body. As he stood there, trying to figure out where to head next, the feeling of something touching his shoulder spiked in him. He turned around but saw nothing.
"Weird... must be the dissonance with the dream world or something. I'll get used to it."
He focused for a few moments, trying to figure out where to go. His memories of the places Stelle was visiting with Firefly come to him. Thanks to the dance, he was late, meaning that he missed their first meeting. Still, he could follow them to Aideen Park. It's where his memories begin growing fuzzy.
"Welp, off I go."
He didn't waste too much time, so he simply dashed off, knowing the city quite decently. It was bustling with people, which was to be expected, so trying to find the two would prove difficult. Instead, Mark took out his phone and sent Stelle a message. To his surprise, she answered, directing him to the slot machines.
"Of course she'd be gambling... why am I not surprised?"
Mark went that way, asking the same guy Stelle had for tokens, which he got after showing the Dreamscape Pass. To the side, Stelle and Firefly were laughing together, giving the slots a few tries. The prizes were pretty nice, but they differed from the game. No monetary gains, but they did get sweets or other treats.
"Heh, why am I not surprised that you're here gambling?" asked Mark as he snuck up on the two. Both turned to face him, startled. He chuckled, crossing his arms, and Stelle punched him lightly in the shoulder.
"Don't do this again next time, alright? I might hit you with the bat."
He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Quick to smack me as usual," he sighed, turning to look at Firefly, who seemed a bit taken aback by Mark's appearance. His mind rattled and creaked, the sigh of the gentle girl before him causing the pain to increase.
"Oh, nice to meet you. I'm Mark," he said politely, offering a tiny smile as he went for a handshake. She looked at his hand, giving it a gentle shake.
"I'm Firefly, nice to meet you."
Mark nodded, then turned to Stelle, who was failing to get any good prizes.
"Mind if I have a go? I usually don't win either, so we can share in our suffering."
Stelle, annoyed by her loss streak, moved aside, allowing Mark to take a seat. He looked at the screen as he introduced one of the tokens, staring at what the prizes were. Mostly sweets and the like, with the big prize being a ticket for a lot of free SoulGlad.
Mark grabbed the handle, staring intently at the screen. He knew he'd never win, but the hope never died inside. It's the last thing to die out, no matter what you're faced with. It felt best in those moments when you knew the odds were stacked against you, but you still wished deep down for it to go your way.
He pulled it, staring at the screen as the lines spun and spun, moving as if they didn't plan to slow down. Both Stelle and Firefly were watching, looking over his shoulders. One by one, the lines began to slow, and Mark closed his eyes, accepting his fate.
"See? I knew I wouldn't win anything."
The alarms went off, signaling that someone had won the big prize. Stelle and Firefly looked at him with wide eyes, and his confident grin faltered.
"I fucking what now?"
He looked to the screen, noticing that the big prize had somehow made its way to him. Free SoulGlad for a good while, enough to last him months.
"What in the actual fuck?"
He stood up, not believing his eyes.
"That damned gambler must have put a curse on me. Heck, I don't like it. Don't waste my winning streak here. It's a bad sign. Stupid machine," he growled, sighing.
"You won!" shouted Stelle, jumping with Firefly, who was also laughing and spinning with Stelle. The two were more joyous than Mark, who stared at the screen. The people were watching him, the crowd gathered, with the prize soon to come. He felt a sharp pain in the back, and he quickly turned around. Nothing, again.
"What the hell? Just what? You're not supposed to feel PAIN in the Dreamscape..."
As his prize was handed to him, Mark put on a brave face, smiling, but deep down he was confused, thinking that something was completely wrong.
Chapter 61: One Million SoulGlad Bottles
*yeehaw, somehow alive. I'm about to start a stream on twitch, hopefully it will all go well. I'll try my hardest to make it work, and see how it goes. Links for those things on discord, which is in my WebNovel bio. So, we keep everything going. Enjoy the chapter. Peace out and Deus Vult.*
Mark stood there, dumbfounded, hiding his emotions behind a mask of joy, taking care to show no negative emotions. Someone came in to hand him a written ticket that gave him the free SoulGlad. Another person even came in with a few cameras and a group to record him, taking an interview. Mark stood there, with Stelle and Firefly in the background cheering him on.
"Sir, you've won the grand prize. Is there something you'd like to say for everyone watching this?"
Mark stared deadpan at the camera, looking most serious. He showed a big thumbs up to the camera with his right hand, staring into the souls of the ones watching.
"One million SoulGlad bottles for me, people. I think I'll pass out."
Everyone stared at him, somewhat baffled by the reaction, but then the reporter, a young lady filled with life, jumped up and about with joy.
"You heard him, people," she beamed. "He's going to enjoy the SoulGlad so much to the point of passing out! Let's cheer him, everybody!"
Mark felt like he was stuck in the matrix with a bunch of NPCs that act according to the things he does. He shook his head, slowly walking away from the crowd, retreating at the height of his gambling career.
"Well, looks like I have enough drinks for the entirety of the Astral Express," chuckled Mark. Stelle patted him on the back, while Firefly looked extremely joyous on the side.
"Right after you said you never win, huh? What sort of trick did you pull?"
Mark shrugged, unsure of what to even say. Somehow a rare event had happened, and the very planets and the stars aligned in such a way that he was able to get the big prize. Still, he was bothered like never before, since he'd usually have things go downhill for him after one fortunate event.
"I'm truly glad that you had fun," said Firefly, smiling at them both. She then turned over to Stelle, smiling softly at her.
"Thank you for your help earlier today—that's why I took the chance to introduce this beautiful place to you. It was willing to accept me, even though I didn't belong here. I've grown very fond of this place, and that makes me want to... share it with others."
Mark looked at her, his expression softening. Meanwhile, Stelle paid attention to the details.
"Are you... really a stowaway?" she asked, somewhat curious.
Firefly seemed to shy away a little, holding her arms a bit up against her chest.
"I... I'm a lawful resident... at least now I am..."
Mark took a soft breath, recalling part of her story despite the pain in the side of his head. His temples felt like bursting, but he kept pushing for the bits of information. Firefly, a girl with a specific disease called Entropy Loss Syndrome, which was slowly making the one afflicted fade away. She was a sad character, that much he knew, but more information was restricted by some pain that threatened to split his being in half.
"I see... it's ok. Stowaway or not, it doesn't matter. What matters is who you are as a person. I don't judge based on those things."
She offered a tiny smile, her demeanor somewhat more relaxed thanks to his words. She glanced to the side, and Mark nodded, aware of a tiny detail.
"We're being followed, right?" he whispered, not turning to the side. He put a hand on Stelle's head so she wouldn't look around, which was the first instinct for everyone. Instead, she looked over to him, raising a brow.
"Yes, Stelle, don't turn around. We gotta catch them in the act, right, Firefly?"
They smiled to one another, sharing a lighthearted moment where they were luring their stalker.
"He's been on our tail since we parted ways with Mister Gallagher."
Mark nodded, listening intently.
"He's about 5 feet 9 inches tall, give or take. Judging from his strong build, it's clear that he's well trained. He walks in long strides, but his steps are light and barely audible. That way of walking doesn't leave footprints..."
Mark sighed, looking over to her. He kept listening to the rest of the description, but he already had a clue that the mental library of his provided on the go. Rather than waiting, Mark turned around, smirking from ear to ear. His arms were spread wide as he greeted none other than Sampo.
"Hey, old comrade. How's it going?"
Sampo answered in kind, doing the same movement, his childish behavior flaring up at Mark's open invitation.
"Hey, if it isn't my favorite duo I do business with, Stelle and Mark. What a coincidence to run into you here! Oh my! I'm in luck today!"
The situation felt sketchy. How did someone from Belobog manage to make it there? Mark knew about his affiliation with the Masked Fools, something he made known ever since they met. Still, he had to do a little test. With a big ole smile, Mark rubbed his index to his thumb, motioning for money.
"I hope you recall your little debt, my good old comrade."
Sampo smiled sheepishly, rubbing his palms together.
"Well now, my dear friend. Do you mind waiting a little more for your faithful Sampo Koski?"
That was all Mark needed. There was no debt he had, and Sampo would never forget money. Still, Mark said nothing, simply chuckling as he crossed his arms.
"Well, let's say that I can wait some more. I don't mind waiting for my good friend, after all."
Stelle rubbed her eyes, looking at the man with weird enthusiasm.
"I can't be dreaming, can I?"
Mark chuckled, nudging her in the side.
"You're in a dream, dumbass. We all are."
Firefly watched from behind, looking with her shy gaze at the others. Mark glanced at her, offering a soft nod of his head to reassure her. Perhaps a habit, or more as a way to try and offer her some closure, his palm rested on her head, ruffling her head most gently.
"It's fine, don't worry," he whispered, taking a step back to let Stelle talk with 'Sampo' and have some fun.
She blushed slightly at the touch, which left after lingering for a while. Mark simply wanted to offer at least some form of connection that held meaning. Still, Mark's palm had to retreat at some point, leaving her with a soft tinge of embarrassment on her face.
"Uhm... who is this gentleman?" asked Firefly, stepping closer to Stelle.
"Oh, Miss March! Don't you remember me? After all the favors I did for you all in Belobog..."
Another clue that it wasn't Sampo, but someone posing as him. Mark kept the rule of thumb, staying silent. He liked being a yapping jackass sometimes, but it wasn't the time yet. There was something bound to happen, so he kept himself silent.
Stelle crossed her arms, looking at 'Sampo' with a deadpan expression.
"You should get your eyesight checked. Are you sure March 7th looks like this?"
She crossed an arm over her chest, smiling slightly.
"My name is Firefly. I'm a stage performer from the Iris Family."
'Sampo' chuckled, nodding a little as he looked over Firefly.
"Oh, no wonder! I was just thinking, there's no way Miss March could change her appearance so dramatically in such a short time."
He did her gesture, even going as far as bowing slightly for the introduction.
"It's my pleasure to meet you! My name is Sampo, and I'm an old pal of Stelle and Mark."
Stelle scoffed, lifting her head up a bit, giving a little glare.
"Since when did I acknowledge you as my friend?"
Mark laughed, giving her a little nudge in the side.
"Come on now, don't be like that. You're making things awkward, and you know it. Sampo is... Sampo."
Firefly smiled, speaking with her usual tone, although a touch of seriosity could be felt in her voice.
"Mister Sampo, what's the purpose of your visit to Penacony?"
He chuckled, crossing his arms with a smile still plastered on his lips.
"My purpose? Hahaha, you're funny. What else can I do in Penacony? Well, I just hang around, daydream, and do the things that anyone on vacation would do."
His eyes darted back to Stelle and Mark, who were glancing at each other, silently talking about the situation with just body language.
"Speaking of which... Old pals, since fate brought us here, I'm obliged to give you a tour of the area. I've been watching you two for a long time. Miss Firefly does know Penacony well, but when it comes to 'entertainment for grownups', I think I can do much better."
Mark shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh as he smirked.
"Sampo, if you think about taking us to some 'nice, family-friendly club' I'm seriously going to tear you a new one," he growled, shaking his fist.
"Woah, woah, woah," he retorted, bringing his hands up in surrender. "I'm not going to go to such a place, so don't worry. Still, come on and follow me."
Mark sighed once more, but he chose to follow along, motioning for the two ladies to come with them.
"Don't worry, you two. If my good old friend Sampo tries anything funny, I'll be sure to smack him nicely just to teach him some manners."
The group wandered together for a while, using one of those pinball machines to pass a lot more distance. They kept walking after that, heading to a place that Firefly recognized.
"Is this... the lower level of the Commercial District?"
Sampo smirked, walking ahead.
"Bingo! Our destination is right there—Peppy Pepeshi's Salon! This is no ordinary salon. The only guests allowed to enter are the Pepeshi people, or those with VIP cards. But then again, nothing is too difficult for Sampo."
Mark chuckled, shaking his head.
"Expect finding a job that requires honest work. I'm sure that's impossible for you."
He pretended that Mark's comment wasn't there, so instead he focused on talking to the tiny bodyguard.
"Here we go again, pal!"
The little figure, who wore a nice pair of sunglasses, looked up, unimpressed.
"Eh? Oh, it's you. You here to relax?" asked the little man, turning towards Mark. "Oh, you're the man of a million SoulGlad bottles. Congratulations on winning the big prize."
Mark nodded, silently thanking him. Sampo looked at him, amazed. Still, he focused on the task at hand.
"Right. I have three friends here who want to come with me. Any seats left inside?"
The guard looked at him, the attitude more imposing than his stature.
"Show me your VIP card."
Sampo pulled out a card, handing it seamlessly with one swift flick of his wrist.
"I'm talking about your friends. I've already seen yours."
"Oh, well, how can my friends have VIP cards when they've just arrived? Can you make an exception and let them in? I'll provide my VIP card as a guarantee that they won't cause any trouble, okay?"
The tiny guard shook his head, offering the card back.
"No, I can't break the rules. Please go home if you don't have the card."
"Seems like we can't go in," said Firefly, not all that disappointed.
"Go on, Sampo. Cook that funky plan of yours," chuckled Mark, waiting for the man to figure something out.
"Ok, so we aren't going in anymore. But could you help me pick up something I left inside? 'The Moment of Betrayal', 'The Cloud of Doubt', and 'Everlasting Hatred'. Just mention the 'Clown's Items' to Miss Thunderbolt. She'll understand what I mean."
Stelle was about to ask about them, but Mark silenced her, motioning with a swift up and down motion of his palm that she should hold back for now.
The guard nodded, heading inside to deliver the message. In a few moments, he came back, offering something else besides the normal items.
"Here's the items you asked for. Miss Thunderbolt said these alone wouldn't be enough. She wanted you to have these Broken Dreams –she said to do with them as you see fit."
Sampo nodded, speaking in a somewhat humble voice.
"Miss Thunderbolt is such a thoughtful person! Thank you so much."
He turned back to the group, his expression pleased.
"Now we're short of only one item, which we might be able to find in an arcade machine. Coincidentally, there's one at the salon entrance. Let's get moving. I want to show you something fun."
Mark sighed, already imagining himself as a tiny figure with sunglasses, a cool hat, a suit, and a rocket launcher.
"Here we go again," he muttered.
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