"Then allow me… to grant you an audience with destiny's left hook."
(This is it. My moment. My theme song should be playing right now. Maybe I'll buy a speaker next time.)
Slimy let out a soft blorp, like a wet bubble in full support.
"Bo-Boss… he said he's from the government…" Bear Mask whimpered, his plastic mask jiggling slightly as he tried to inch himself beneath a bench.
"Idiot," the bald man snarled, his grip tightening on a crowbar. "The government doesn't hurt people without proof."
There was a tense silence. A pigeon cooed dramatically in the distance.
"GO FKING BEAT HIM!" the bald man roared.
And then—
🎵 "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" Theme intensifies in everyone's heads 🎵
3… 2… 1…
Cue the action.
….
Dog Mask was the first to move, letting out a feral scream as he charged with the grace of a drunk mall Santa. He swung a rusted crowbar like he was trying to take revenge on all his childhood birthday parties.
(Predictable. Very well. Initiate evasive maneuver: Fancy Sidestep #7.)
Tyler didn't even flinch. His left foot slid back, body pivoting like he'd practiced in front of a mirror at least fifty-seven times.
"Iron Shadow Evasion: Alley Drift."
Which was, of course, just a dramatic name for stepping sideways.
Dog Mask's momentum betrayed him. As he stumbled forward, he tripped over Bear Mask—who was still whispering something about becoming the floor—and flew like a human cannonball into a discarded, cheese-greased pizza box.
THWACK.
The box folded around his head like a greasy accordion.
"He's down! Dog Mask's down!" someone yelled, but it was hard to tell who.
KO.
….
Fox Mask narrowed his eyes from behind his questionably fashionable fursuit head.
"Your slime is not real!!"
Slimy gasped. The blob jiggled in betrayal, glowing slightly purple.
Tyler's left eye twitched.
(You can threaten me, my cloak, my dignity—but not my boy. He's Level 2 now. He can jello-hop.)
He said nothing—just reached into his pocket and flicked something.
A marble.
Fox Mask sprinted forward, duel-wielding two water pistols filled with hot sauce.
"Taste the fury of Diablo Deluxe!!"
The marble struck the ground.
SKRT.
Fox Mask slipped.
It was magnificent.
Time slowed.
His arms flailed. One water gun discharged midair, blinding him with his own Diablo Deluxe blend. His scream echoed—
"MY EYES! IT'S IN MY EYES! IT BURNS WITH FLAVOR!!"
He landed headfirst into a green recycling bin labeled HOPE, flipping the lid shut behind him like fate itself agreed with the commentary.
KO.
….
Lizard Mask, also known as Roni, rubbed his hands together in a very not-at-all threatening way. He pulled something from his pouch—a smoke bomb. Black casing, labeled "Mint Surprise™."
(Ah. A tactician. Let's see if he reads the instructions.)
"Let's see how you handle THIS!"
He threw the bomb.
It bounced off the alley wall like a tennis ball, rolled back toward him, and—
POOF.
A small cloud of minty smoke engulfed him. The faint sound of wintergreen played over the sizzling.
"AAHH! I CAN'T SEE! WHY DOES IT TASTE LIKE GUM?! WHY IS IT IN MY MOUTH?!"
Slimy hopped over, gently slapped Roni in the shin with a wet plorp, and Roni collapsed like an overcooked spaghetti noodle.
KO.
…
Bear Mask was still beneath the bench, hugging the wall like it owed him money. His voice came in small, cracked whispers.
"I am the floor. The floor is me. Floors cannot feel pain. Floors are eternal."
Tyler walked up slowly, his boots clicking with overdramatic echo effects, courtesy of his built-in sound illusion system.
He stopped just inches away.
Bear Mask looked up.
Tyler lowered his voice to peak villain-turned-anti-hero-anime-protagonist levels.
"Your crimes… end here."
Bear Mask blinked.
Then peed. Just a little.
And collapsed, arms out like a fainting goat in cosplay.
KO.
…
Only one man remained.
The Bald Man.
Wobbling. Sweating. Reconsidering all of his life choices.
Still holding his crowbar, which now looked more like a symbol of poor leadership than a weapon.
"Y-you… You monster!"
Tyler took one slow, deliberate step forward. Cloak billowing. Hair windswept. Eyes glowing with the subtle power of dramatic lighting settings.
"You've stolen your last corn snack, villain."
(That sounded cooler in my head. But we're going with it.)
The bald man let out a battle cry filled with desperation, rage, and… a little phlegm. He lunged.
Tyler did nothing.
Just stepped to the side.
The bald man ran past.
Slipped.
Threw the crowbar midair.
Tripped on Fox Mask's spilled hot sauce.
The crowbar spun like destiny itself had decided, "Y'know what? Let's wrap this up."
CLANG.
It bonked the bald man squarely on the back of the head.
He staggered. He paused. He wobbled—
"I REGRET—"
And fell.
KO.
..
The alley was silent once more. Bits of smoke hung in the air. Hot sauce dripped from a wall. A single rat peered from a trash bin, clapped twice, and disappeared.
Tyler stood in the center.
Victorious. Glorious. Totally posing.
Slimy hopped onto his shoulder and made a soft blorp, like applause from a jello baby.
The alley was littered with bodies—mostly conscious, mildly twitching, all defeated. The night air was thick with the scent of mint, hot sauce, and crushed ego.
Tyler's boots crunched over a fallen Diablo Deluxe water pistol as he stepped forward.
(I should take them to a secluded area and interrogate them—figure out who their boss is... and why they're holding Sara Debeu.)
He glanced around. Bear Mask was still whispering something about becoming the floor. Lizard Mask (Roni) was half-submerged in mint smoke, blindly slapping at the air. Fox Mask was still wedged in the recycling bin labeled HOPE, his legs sticking out like a knocked-over scarecrow.
He knelt down next to Dog Mask, who was groaning into the pizza box.
"You. Piñata."
Dog Mask whimpered.
"You and your idiotic cosplay crew are going to tell me who you're working for… or I'll let Slimy sit on your face. He's wet, Marvin."
"MY NAME'S NOT MARVIN!"
"It is now."
(Still dramatic. Still intimidating. Just… slightly damp-sounding.)
Slimy jiggled threateningly.
Dog Mask whimpered like a kicked balloon.
"W-We don't know what you're talking about, man! We're just a bunch of ordinary criminals! We kidnapped Sara 'cause her dad's a principal! We thought we could get some ransom money!"
Silence.
The wind blew.
A cat meowed somewhere.
Slimy made a wet, sympathetic blorp.
Tyler's eye twitched.
Then he straightened, stepping back, cloak flaring behind him like he was about to deliver the plot twist of the century.
"Don't. Play. Dumb."
His voice echoed like a rejected anime dub audition.
"You think I'd fall for that? Kidnapping the daughter of a school principal? Do you take me for a fool?!"
Dog Mask blinked.
"…Yes?"
Tyler pointed a gloved hand at him dramatically.
"LIARS! I've seen your kind in the shadows!"
"I intercepted your transmission!"
"You wear cool masks!"
"One of you carried a smoke bomb!"
Lizard Mask, still coughing mint fumes, wheezed:
"It was a party favor from my niece's birthday—"
"SILENCE!"
Tyler turned away and looked into the distance, staring at a very ominous trash can.
(Just as I suspected. These buffoons are covering for someone. A bigger fish. Maybe a global mafia syndicate. No—worse. A supernatural cabal! This must be a test.)
(The OmniScript is grooming me for the true villains behind the scenes…)
Slimy jiggled in agreement, glowing faintly.
Fox Mask, who had finally pulled himself out of the bin, muttered,
"I literally work at KFC during the day."
Tyler spun on him.
"A front, clearly! For a fried-chicken-funded espionage network! Operated under Colonel Sand—wait, no, no distractions!"
Bear Mask, barely conscious, croaked from the ground:
"We're broke… I still owe my cousin twenty bucks since 2000…"
"Enough!"
Tyler began pacing like a conspiracy theorist with a chalkboard.
"Sara Debeu. Daughter of a principal…? Or heir to a deeper legacy?"
"And you? Wearing masks, kidnapping, that awesome cool mask—Dog, Fox, Lizard—clearly representing a beast-themed organization."
Dog Mask raised his hand weakly.
"It's literally from the—"
"SILENCE, MUTT!"
Slimy hopped down and slapped Dog Mask gently in the chest.
Dog Mask collapsed, spiritually defeated.
(They must be pretending to be stupid. Playing the long game. Testing me. Trying to gauge my power…)
Tyler's eyes narrowed behind the glowing mask.
"Very well. If you won't give me answers, then I'll have to dig deeper myself."
Fox Mask sat up, confused.
"We told you everything, like, literally everything. We thought we'd get a couple grand, go home, maybe buy a PS2."
Lizard Mask coughed again.
"We didn't even know her name was Sara until the second day!"
Tyler ignored them.
(This level of deception... frightening. They've trained themselves to believe their own cover stories. These aren't amateurs. These are professionals. Maybe former agents. Maybe supernatural operatives cursed with memory suppression!)
He picked up Roni by the collar and dragged him like a sack of conspiracy.
"Since you won't talk," Tyler declared, cloak fluttering despite there being no wind, "I'm kidnapping you all!"
(Operation Shadow Dismantle: Phase Two has begun.)
…
One hour later…
In a secluded, dimly-lit warehouse that probably used to sell old vending machines, Tyler had dramatically tied the masked criminals to separate chairs—each under its own flickering fluorescent light, just like in every action movie ever.
Roni was first. Still coughing mint.
Tyler paced around him like a disappointed theater director.
"You. Lizard. Who sent you?"
Roni winced.
"No one, man! We just needed cash! Boss had the idea—said the principal's kid was rich. We thought we'd scare the dad a little, ask for money, release the girl. Boom, nobody dies, we maybe buy an Xbox—"
Tyler slammed a clipboard on the floor for no reason.
"So your organization uses code names, animal masks, and operates in the shadows, but you expect me to believe you did this for a gaming console?"
(They're committed. Too committed. Maybe this one was brainwashed by the higher-ups.)
Slimy jiggled suspiciously.
Roni started sobbing.
"We don't have higher-ups! Our leader is just Bald Man!"
Tyler froze.
"Bald… Man?"
He stared into the distance.
(So that's the name of their leader. So simple… it must be a codename.)
He stood, turned, and dramatically walked away.
"You've been helpful, Roni. Too helpful. Which means… you're expendable."
"Wait—WHAT?!"
Tyler raised a finger.
"Slimy. Bonk Protocol."
Slimy nodded solemnly. Then slapped Roni's forehead with a gentle blorp.
KO.
…
Interrogation 2: Fox Mask.
Fox was still covered in leftover hot sauce. He was tied to a folding chair with caution tape, Tyler created.
"So," Tyler began, voice echoing despite the warehouse being soundproofed with insulation foam. "The 'Diablo Deluxe'… a signature weapon, perhaps? Poison? Alchemical fire?"
Fox Mask groaned.
"Bro, I just filled water guns with Taco Bell sauce. I thought it'd burn eyes. And I don't even know her name was Sara until the second—"
Tyler slammed another clipboard, this time on a desk that wasn't there a second ago.
"You expect me to believe this is all… improvisation?"
"YES?! We're idiots!"
(Interesting. He's confessing to incompetence to throw me off. Clever. That means they're smarter than I thought.)
Slimy floated by and stared at Fox with glowing blue goo eyes.
Tyler narrowed his own.
"You were trained. I can tell. You're used to pressure. But you cracked, didn't you?"
Fox sobbed into his sauce-stained sleeves.
"I just wanted to buy a PSP…"
"Slimy."
blorp
KO.
…
Interrogation 3: Dog Mask.
Dog was chewing on a piece of duct tape.
Tyler sat across from him, arms crossed.
"You, the muscle. The one who charged first. Clearly trained in blunt-force assault. You're no civilian."
Dog Mask whimpered.
"I'm literally unemployed, man…"
Tyler leaned in.
"What's your rank in the organization?"
Dog blinked.
"We don't have ranks! I don't even have health insurance!"
(The deeper I dig, the more confusing this syndicate becomes… Is chaos their strategy?)
Tyler's eyes glowed brighter.
"You are dismissed."
Dog Mask exhaled—then Slimy hit him in the nose.
KO.
…
Final Interrogation: Bald Man.
Tyler stood across from the bald leader, arms folded, the air tense. The Bald Man was tied in Christmas lights Tyler had found in a trash bin marked "Holiday Spirit."
Tyler narrowed his eyes.
"So… you're the boss."
Bald Man sighed.
"Yeah."
"Who are you working for?"
"Uh..Myself."
"So you admit it."
"What?"
Tyler leaned forward dramatically.
"You're the founder of the beast-mask criminal syndicate. A rogue operative. Disavowed by the government. You've been pulling strings from the shadows. Kidnapping Sara Debeu to send a message."
The bald man just stared.
"We just wanted a money. That's it."
Tyler didn't blink.
(He's good. The stone-faced mastermind. A true manipulator.)
"I see." Tyler turned away. "Then there's nothing left to say."
Slimy raised his gooey hand.
"No, wait—"
Blorp
KO.
….
Tyler stood tall, cloak swirling in the artificial wind like a superhero whose cape budget had no limits.
Slimy sat atop his shoulder like a loyal mascot who might also double as a paperweight.
(I've defeated the first layer of the syndicate. But they're just pawns. The real threat… is still out there.)
He turned his gaze to the night sky, which was mostly polluted orange from the nearby KFC's neon sign.
"The shadows… are watching."
The camera—if there had been one—would have zoomed out dramatically.
Cue swelling orchestral music.
Cue rising tension.
Cue—
Then a car drove past playing Soulja Boy, ruining the mood completely.
Tyler paused. Cleared his throat. Adjusted his cloak.
"I'm watching you... from the shadows."
Then he turned, cloak spinning with maximum anime intensity, and leapt into a garbage dumpster labeled 'Organic Only', which swallowed him whole like a dramatic ninja exit.
Slimy followed. Blorp.
Silence.
The five tied-up goons blinked, slowly regaining some sense of time and reality.
Dog Mask was the first to speak.
"...Did he just disappear into trash?"
Fox Mask nodded solemnly.
"That was kind of... cool?"
Bear Mask whispered, "I think I peed again."
Roni muttered, "He said we were a syndicate. Syndicate of what?"
Then Bald Man—leader of this noble disaster—looked around at his tied-up, sauce-covered crew.
"...We should from now on live an upright life."
Everyone paused.
"Yeah, boss" Fox Mask agreed. "No more crime. We're clearly not built for it."
"I'm gonna go back to community college," Dog Mask mumbled.
"I'm gonna open a smoothie cart," said Roni.
They all nodded.
To be continue