He jabbed at the man's leg this time and J couldn't help but scream in annoyance.
“Stop it you prick, think we're gonna take it any easier on you if you fight with that piece of trash?”
“Honestly, I can't tell the difference between you guys being easy or not.” He answered.
He barely dodged the other man trying to grab him and noticed his shirt and jacket…
(“I guess he can modify most things.”) He thought as his face slowly turned more serious, his gaze focused on Tyler.
With one touch his shirt had been turned into a noose wrapped around his neck. His upper body was now left bare, taking the brunt of the winter weather.
“Slow down asshole, I'll put that noose to good use!” J said.
“See he isn't shit, look at that body and tell me that's someone we'd struggle with.”
A vein formed on his forehead and he wore a rather unnervingly smile as he approached the pair.
They had no broken bones. No broken teeth and best of all they didn't have wounds from his magic.
So why was it that both men were on the floor with one sobbing? Why is it, that the bruises that covered their body were enough to leave both men on the floor in such a pitiable state? They only had a few across their arms and legs.
Well if you looked at the bruises they possessed, you would see there was some overlap. And some overlap. And some even more overlap. What on first viewing looked like one bruise was actually ten in the place of one.
All with the same diameter as the stick Tibaut held.
“So you two work for Furor? No wonder you two were so annoying.” Tibaut crouched before them, inspecting his work like an acclaimed artist. He may have gone slightly overboard, but they should be grateful this is all they got for trying to, at the very least, maim him.
“Ye-yeah man. And uh, please don't mention this to Elizabeth, please, please, please!” The man called Tyler, wiped his eyes and begged Tibaut.
“Honestly, he threw the first punch, so just mention his name.” The other man suggested, not even being able to bring himself to look at Tibaut.
Tyler tried to throw a punch but his larger-than-average ally blocked it without issue.
“Don't make this about me you prick, I thought you said we'd be doing a good thing here!?”
The regular-looking fellas that had arrived earlier legged it out of the village after Tina threw their stone back at them.
“Mind explaining?” He asked.
“Well, you see this guy was going on about how one of his girlfriends was complaining about her village being screwed by another.”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Screw off man, we're just friends,” J interjected.
“And we go there and they tell us, the other village harasses them and has adventurers under their payroll and we think ‘Shit why don't we even the odds?’ ya know, so they give us some-”
He raised his hand, signalling for the man to stop.
“(Ugh, I think I can see what's going on.) Were they talking about rabbits?”
“They may have…” Tyler answered.
“And did they say the ones here caused something?”
“I think I heard something like that…”
Tibaut sighed and looked around for the old man.
He was standing a few feet away talking with some other town folk.
Tibaut motioned with his fingers for the old man to come over.
“Boy, those bastards have done it now. Not only do they blame their crimes on us, then they have the-”
(“Ugh, I see what's happening here. Let's look at all the factors gathered:
Likely uneducated farm folk ?
A past that has made them reverent for wheat or whatever crop they can get their hands on ?
The sudden appearance of a threat that eats these with no satisfactory explanation ?????
A rocky relationship between the parties involved ?
These guys are probably just blaming each other for a change in the environment caused by this magic wheat, the king made. Well, it could be something else, hypotheses aren't meant to be correct, but this isn't something as loaded as claiming certain genes responsible for colour affect the taste of a crop. When a group of people are involved the simplest answer is likely the correct one. Well if it's reasonable people anyway. Besides, the idea that a group of normal village folk created these rabbits is a bit ridiculous ”)
“Hey T-Dog, we're good right?” Tyler asked.
“Huh? Give me a moment here.” Tibaut answered.
Tyler hoped fixing his shirt, although not perfect, was enough of a show of goodwill to get out of this.
“Barclay, I think you guys have this all mixed up.”
“Lad, I know what I know, those bastards sent those thugs into our village and those bastards are the reason we have problems with the rabbits in the first place!”
The old man was set in his ways but if a discussion could fix this, he'd very well try.
“Okay Barclay, then tell me, how do they do it?”
“They drop them in a field a ways away in the middle of the night, then pretend they had no idea in the morning! All those bastards are involved and all those bastards are guilty. They all need a full day of flogging!”
“(Middle of the night where no one can verify it, eh?) Have you ever seen them do this?”
“I bloody well have lad, one of them, a lanky bloke, had a whole bucket of them dropped in the field before running off like a little sissy girl when I shouted at him.”
“(Tch, no good. With how quickly he answered he definitely believed he saw something.) You sure it wasn't someone dumping dead rabbits?”
“I saw the little buggers run away, lad. Hell, I'll even show you the bastards doing it if you want!” The man shouted his face now a few shades away from the red of an apple.
Tibaut thought about it for a moment and gave him his hand.
“...alright then, we'll check tonight when you have time.”
The old man grabbed his hand and looked up into his face. “Y-you mean it lad? Finally, I can give those bastards a good flogging after I show them the proof they claim doesn't exist.”
The old man walked away cheery and Tibaut brought the two men along with him into the village chief's house.
