John paused, looking at the door handle with hesitation.

"We're here."

Prota looked up at the sign hanging over the bar. It seemed more menacing than the bar she used to live in, but maybe circumstances made it seem that way. Ignoring the uneasy feeling in her chest, she pushed the door open. Except for one lone table in the middle of the room, the place was empty. Even the bartender wasn't there. The place might as well have been an empty building. In the dim lighting, she could see Fate and Kit sitting at one end of the table, Draco and his attendants at the other.

"Ah, I see the rest of the filth have arrived," Draco said,

"Aw, the wittle baby doesn't have a cushy throne. Is the seat too hard for your royal ass?" John sighed. "Can we get on with this? I've got better things to do with my time."

Draco sneered and snapped his fingers. The swordsman shot forward and roughly grabbed John by the collar, lifting him off the ground.

"John!" Prota yelled, magic gathering in her hands, but she froze as she felt a mana gathering from the woman behind Draco.

Fate, too, shot up, hand on the grip of his blade, but his body was tense. He couldn't unsheathe his weapon, not in these circumstances. Only two people remained calm. Draco, who looked at John as if he were some kind of cockroach, and John, who looked incredibly bored.

"Hey. You gotta be suicidal after working for this guy for more than a day," John said, looking at his assailant. "You wanna switch employers? I'll pay well."

"Do not speak of the lord like that," the knight growled.

"You call him lord, but he's a hell of a lot weaker than you, isn't he? Just kill him and be done with it."

"All the more reason to protect him."

John shrugged to the best of his ability. "Just because a garbage can looks all shiny doesn't change what it is. If I took a shit in the royal palace, would you protect that?"

"You!"

The swordsman's grip tightened, but he couldn't get a reaction out of him.

Fate grit his teeth. "John! I told you not to-"

"Yeah, I listened. I didn't hit him. We're all good, right? The view's pretty nice up here, by the way. This isn't that bad."

"Why are you aggravating him? What's the point?"

"Well… it's fun. What, was I supposed to just listen to him yap?"

Everyone stared at him except for Prota, who, at this point, was half expecting this answer.

"Are you crazy?"

"Hey, calm your mutt down," Draco sneered. "I didn't think he'd come charging in like this, but if you can't keep your dogs under a leash… I thought you came to deal, not to bark like animals."

The swordsman tightened his grip a bit more, and John's face twisted. It wasn't so comfortable anymore.

"I'll keep him under wraps," Fate muttered, his fists clenched. "So let him go."

The swordsman dropped John and went back to standing behind Draco. The swordsman didn't seem all that upset, but he did seem a little annoyed. John himself looked unaffected as he got up and dusted himself off.

"Why did you call us here?"

"I'm sure you're aware of this, but the quests in this town belong to me now. I will be taking control of the guild."

"That's illegal," Fate said, crossing his arms.

"Unfortunately, you are not the one who writes the law."

"What, and you do?" John scoffed.

Fate shook his head. "John. This territory is part of the Wynton family's territory. They do write the law."

"Wynton… Wynton… doesn't ring a bell."

"They're the nobles that rule over this area of the country."

John frowned. "Ah. Piss."

Draco pounded the table with his fist. "I did not call you here to have a silly little conversation! Fate. You need a quest from me, don't you? For your little dog over there."

"What? How did you-"

"I've been waiting for this," Draco smirked. "Look at you. All helpless. Just like you should be. If you have a secret, you should keep it better hidden-"

"Hey. Time out," John said.

He had a nauseated look on his face. Prota was worried he might actually throw up. But what was causing said nausea? She couldn't smell or see anything that might make someone sick.

"I'm going to actually get sick," John groaned. "Please, talk like a normal person. I can't stand this anymore."

Draco rose in anger. "You dare-"

"No, I'm not kidding, I'm going to kill myself. You actually talk so unbearably cringe that I might just do you a favour and shoot myself in the head. Please just shut up."

"What did you just-"

"Look, you had a plan, you pulled it off, blah blah blah, can you fucking get on with it? What do you want?"

"Oh? So you can do more than bark. Fine." Draco leaned back in his seat, a smug look of satisfaction plastered all over his face. "Talk."

"Do you have a paper that looks really old? Kind of like the mage back there?"

The magician squeezed her staff so hard her knuckles turned white, but Draco raised a hand.

"How interesting. I was actually about to talk about that."

John crossed his arms. "Yeah? So why don't you stop fucking around and hand it over?"

"Hm? Or what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'll kill you or something," John said, pulling out his gun.

The tension in the room multiplied tenfold.

Somehow, nobody had noticed any killing intent from John. Nobody had made a move to stop him, and now that the weapon was aimed at Draco, nobody could do anything about it.

"John, what did I say about hitting him?" Fate said carefully.

Despite Draco's assumptions, John was not Fate's dog. He was a ticking time bomb that could go off at any instant, and everyone, allies included, needed to be careful not to blow it up.

"Hey, I'm not hitting him," John protested. "I'm not touching him, right?"

"Put that down, right now!" the swordsman roared.

The situation was incredibly dangerous. John was at an advantage, and his eyes and posture made it clear. His goal was not his own survival. It was the elimination of Draco Wynton, and if achieving that meant his death, that was fine.

One wrong move, and everything would go to shit.

"Yeah? Make me put my gun down. Try it," John taunted. "Do it."

The knight frowned. "Do you understand the severity of what you're doing? Put that toy down!"

John's eyes widened as his lips spread into a wide smile. "Oh? This is a toy? Let's test it. Come on, put your staff down. I'll squeeze the trigger, just a little, and let's see what happens next."

"You're just a child," the mage warned. "You don't know what it means to kill. You don't have it in you."

Prota raised her hand in warning, but it was too late. Unfortunately, the enemy didn't understand just how sensitive the bomb in front of them was.

There was a soft click followed by a loud bang as a bullet flew right by Draco's head, thudding into the wooden wall behind him. John quickly pulled the hammer down, priming the weapon for the next shot.

Not a soul moved. Everyone now understood what was going on.

They were dealing with someone who wasn't all there. Reasoning was pointless. Logic didn't matter.

John smiled casually, like he hadn't just nearly shot a noble's child.

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"John…" Fate warned.

"What, you want him to live?" John shrugged. "Come on, let's kill him. Just to prove them wrong, you know? It'd be funny."

"You can't just kill him for no reason!"

"Huh? But there is a reason. It's called spite. Satisfaction, too. Kinda like lying on the internet- no, bad analogy. The point is, it'd be fun. Please?"

Nobody answered the question. Nobody knew what to say. Interestingly enough, it was Draco who let the conversation flow once more.

"Hey," Draco called out cautiously.

John raised an eye. "Oh? Damn. You're not scared?"

"You think your tricks could scare me?"

John's smile vanished, replaced by a grimace. It was like he'd just seen someone vomit on his favorite shirt.

"Damn. Way to kill the mood. What do you want?"

"You want to deal, do you not?"

There was a collective sigh in the room as John put his weapon away. He looked at Draco, seeing the noble in a slightly new light.

"Alright. Let's deal."

"Fine," Draco said, immediately regaining his sneer. "I'll allow you to take a C-rank quest. In return, you have to complete a quest I ask you to complete."

"...you're fucking kidding me," John muttered to himself.

Draco nodded and snapped his fingers. A ring on the mage's finger flashed, and an old, worn-down piece of parchment came out.

"Cleanse the old mansion… the B-rank quest. Isn't this supposed to be a suicide mission?" Fate said, reading the quest details.

"It's up to you. This is the condition. You will, of course, take it under your name, since you're a B-rank adventurer," Draco said, nodding to Fate. "Oh, and by the way, I'm going to be the one to complete it."

"Huh?"

"The rewards, the quest. It'll all go to me. You'll be doing this for me."

"That's bullshit! You want us to complete a quest and fork over the rewards to you?"

"You should be honored to do something like this!" Draco snapped. "You should be bowing at the very fact that I'm giving you this opportunity!"

"Like hell we're going to-" Fate started, but was interrupted mid-sentence.

"I'll take it," John said. He took the paper off the table and folded it up. "Come on, Prota, let's go."

Before they could leave, though, they were interrupted one last time.

"Wait. That wasn't all. You still owe me something."

"Owe you?" Fate growled. "What the hell do we owe you?"

"Payment."

John stopped moving, turning back to look at the noble. He was sick of this shit.

"Payment? You're trying to get us killed. I think this is payment enough, isn't it? You get to live. I get to die. Thoughts?"

"I-"

"What, is that too hard to understand?"

Before anyone could react, John was holding Draco by the neck. Just like with the gun, there'd been no indication that he was going to move. Everyone had watched him walk over. He wasn't fast or sneaky or anything.

He was just too unpredictable.

"Let me put it in a way your little monkey brain can understand. The payment is this: I don't blow your brains out. How's that for a deal? I'm this close to ripping your arms off and shoving them up your ass, and the only saving grace you have is that I'm not capable of something like that. So take your snobby, dogshit eating ass back to your rich little piggy of a father and tell him he can go fuck himself with his snub of a dick, alright? Remind him to zip up after he's done sucking himself off."

Drace clenched his teeth, livid with rage, but was restrained as the man in armour held him back, whispering something in his ear.

"Fine. Go. But don't think I'll-" Draco started but was cut off.

"I really will kill you this time. I swear to god I'm going to kill you."

Prota had never seen John this mad before. She even thought she saw a hint of light coming from his red eye.

"Do not say what you were about to say. Under any circumstances. Are you suicidal or something? Do you really want to die that badly?"

He motioned for Prota to follow him and walked out without another look back.

"Hey. You get out of here too," Draco said to Fate.

The masked boy stood up and left without a word.

"John!" he called out as he left the bar.

The one in question turned around with a casual smile as if they'd just bumped into each other on the street. Quickly catching up, Fate grabbed John by the shoulders rather roughly.

"What the hell was that?" the hero hissed.

"What was what?"

Fate's grip grew stronger. "Don't mess with me. That look on your face. You really were gonna kill him, weren't you?"

"Well, yeah. Why?"

Fate looked at Prota. The girl just gave a small shrug. Well, he wouldn't find an ally in her this time.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Can't you see that that's not normal? Even your sister is afraid!"

"Well, yeah," John shrugged. "But if I killed him, it wouldn't have been that big of a deal."

"Not… a big deal?"

John wasn't joking. He could be sarcastic at times, but there was usually some kind of tell that let you know he was half joking. Right now, there was no such tell. He was dead serious.

"Hey. Get real with me right now." Fate looked John dead in the eyes. "You don't act like a normal human. What are you? Some kinda god of death? What the fuck gives you the balls to act like that? Are you delusional? Sick in the head?"

"Yeah. Probably."

"Then you should be in a mental ward!" Fate shoved John into a wall, golden eyes boring into black and red. "I can't work with you if you're going to be like this!"

"Then what? Gonna be Draco's little bitch? Gonna suck his dick, eat up his leftovers, go at his beck and call and wag your tail like a good boy? Don't get it twisted, Fate," John shrugged. "I'm not going to let myself get ordered around. I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees."

Fate's eyes glowed. John was… telling the truth?

"Ok, then… what, you kill Draco. Then what?"

Prota shook her head at Fate. She seemed to be telling him not to push it any further. Fate looked at John again and was again disturbed by the lack of emotion he found there. He'd only noticed it a few times, and he'd never commented on it, but… it really was strange.

Fate just sighed. "I- well, we got the quest. I'll let it drop this time. Why were you so quick to take that, by the way?"

"Huh? Oh, this is the quest we need to rank up. Lucky, right?" John smiled.

"...you're kidding."

"Not this time." John stuck out his hand. "Well? Let's get to it."

Fate nodded, regaining his energy. The best way to deal with John was to just let the topic drop.

"Haah… I'll let you go. Just this time. But if I catch you pulling something like this again…" He let John go. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

John nodded. "Yeah. At the guild."

Prota turned to Fate to wave goodbye, then ran after John.

The masked boy felt a shudder run down his spine as he watched John leave. He'd brought up a mental ward as an exaggeration, but now that he thought about it, that might just be the right place for John.

~~~

Once John and Prota were back at the inn, Prota wouldn't stop bothering her brother until she got an explanation. She didn't get it. What was with the hostility towards Draco? Why was he so calm with killing someone he'd just met? Sure, she'd seen him act rather casually about killing others, but they'd always come with an intent to kill him first.

So why Draco?

"He's annoying."

Prota cocked her head to the side. John was lying on his bed, doing nothing, but it seemed he'd had enough of Prota slapping his face.

"Draco. He's really annoying."

"...?"

"Do you know what Draco is? He's the stereotypical noble. The person who bullies others because he can. Because it's fun."

"But… doesn't John also…"

John sat up. "Ok, sure, call me a hypocrite. Doesn't mean I can't hate Draco."

He pulled his arms up and stretched, then yawned deeply.

"Draco is one of those things. He's boring, Prota. He doesn't add anything convenient to the [Story]. He's just a bitch for the sake of it. And he treats others like shit for no good reason."

"But John-" Prota started again, but didn't really want to finish the sentence.

"Yeah, sure. Let's say there's no big difference. We both fuck with people's lives. He doesn't kill while I do, right? Maybe I'm worse."

John opened and clenched his fist, staring at his hand for a while before looking up again.

"But does it really matter?"

Prota wanted to say something, but this time, she held back.

"He's a [Character], Prota. I don't kill needlessly, but honestly, if I wanted to, what would stop me? Who would stop me? None of this is real, right? No consequences and all that. It doesn't matter what I do. If someone pisses me off, then what's stopping me from just killing them?"

She felt a shudder run down her spine. Her brother was being completely honest here. This was truly how he felt, and she wasn't sure what to do about it. If it were anyone else, the words would be disgustingly evil, but from John… was it even all that wrong?

"Besides, if killing him is a mistake, I can always just bring him back. One [Reset] and everything is back to normal, right?"

Prota shuddered. John was right. If he messed up, he could just [Reset], and nobody would know. Did that make his actions right? Wrong?

"Trust me, Prota. People like Draco, they're not worth keeping around. They're just going to be a pain in the ass."

Prota nodded slowly. She didn't agree, but… what could she do about it? Would she ever end up thinking like that? Did she want to?

She didn't know.

~~~

Fate and Kit were having a very similar discussion in their own room.

John's attitude. Now that Fate thought about it, this wasn't the first time John had acted up irrationally. When he'd met John when they'd been fighting the goblins, he'd almost allowed his sister to die.

When Fate arrived after dealing with the assassins, John had seemed perfectly fine with killing his attacker. It wasn't a matter of being calm; John's attitude was like that of someone taking out the trash. Bored, uncaring. As if killing were a chore rather than a life or death situation.

Just what was he? Questions about his age and powers came to mind. Was he even human?

"What are you thinking about?" Kit said after a while.

"You already know."

"Yes, but what about him specifically?"

Fate paused for a moment. There was a lot he had to think about, but if he could sum it up in one sentence…

"His attitude. Everything he does is an act. His nonchalance, his "guessing," his fighting, none of it is him."

Kit raised her eyes. "What makes you think that?"

"I mean, have you gotten a good look at him?"

Kit jumped off Fate's bed and turned into her human form.

"I thought you were trying to avoid doing that," Fate grumbled.

"I want to look at you properly while we're talking about this," Kit said. "Because even I don't know what to do with that boy."

Fate felt a shiver run down his spine. Ever since he'd come to this world, he'd met beings beyond his imagination, enemies and allies all unique in their own way, to the point where he thought he'd gotten used to it.

But Kit, who was over a hundred years old, was telling him that even she didn't know what to do.

"You're talking about his attitude. And while yes, it is suspicious, it's possible he has a backer who has looked into you. It's possible he's been brainwashed into believing he's over a thousand years old. Your abilities wouldn't pick up on that, right?"

Fate nodded.

"What I'm worried about… is his power. And his sister."

"Prota?"

"You don't understand. There are a few factors to consider."

Kit raised her hand and let lightning spark between her fingers.

"Time magic. You remember what I've been trying to teach you, right?"

"Yeah."

"It's a pretty powerful magic, but even still, it's within the realms of mana. That's because mana is the building blocks of the world. So, how is it possible for a new energy to be introduced? On top of that, Prota. She's human and yet wields the power of dragons. On top of that, she can act on the same wavelength as John. I told you about this, but I theorized that the two shared an unknown energy, right?"

Fate nodded.

Kit sighed. "Fate. This is just based on a theory."

Fate grimaced. "Let's hear it anyway."

"I've been thinking for a while. When you fought John in the Cave of Trials, you won, right? How was John?"

"I told you this already. He seemed to be a pretty good fighter, but, well, no mana core, right? He can only go so far."

"And yet, his sister seemed surprised that he lost. Why is that?"

"He explained it to us. His strengths lie elsewhere."

"...do you really believe that?"

Fate didn't know what to say.

"Think. Think about Prota's growth, her power, and her capabilities. She's strong. But she's young. She's not a good liar. And if someone of her strength were to be surprised that someone lost, would it not be natural to assume that they truly are stronger?"

"Maybe because she considered herself weak in the first place?"

"Yes, but consider their past. John is the only person she has to compare herself to consistently. No matter how bad of a psychological case this is, unless John completely brainwashed his sister, how could she hold him in such high regard?"

Fate was starting to let the pieces click in his head.

"Back to where I started. If Prota has abnormal capabilities, and John has an abnormal energy that Prota shares, then is it not possible that John is actually stronger than Prota? What if she thinks he's strong… because he is?"

Fate frowned. "But he has no core. And he loses all the time. He relies on a weapon, he uses his sister to fight, none of it makes sense. How would that work?"

"Fate… remember when you asked John if he was ready for the following consequences? What if, well… he really is?"

Fate felt his spine go cold. He wore a mask to cover his face, but now that he was learning of the mask John wore…

Just how deep did it go?

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