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4. Pumpkin vs The Mob - Part 3

  Suru—a beautiful island village embraced by the mighty Turag River, its strong currents acting as both protector and barrier.

  Because of the river, bandits and weak monsters rarely troubled the village. However, it wasn’t all rosy. The fierce waters also meant fewer merchants braved the journey, making daily necessities scarce. And while the river kept lesser creatures at bay, it was powerless against stronger monsters—not that they appeared often in this region.

  This was why the village fair was so important. It was the one time of the year when traders, food vendors, and performers arrived, bringing goods, entertainment, and a much-needed escape from the villagers' struggles.

  Right now, the entire village was enjoying the festival, basking in the rare moments of joy and laughter.

  Well, almost everyone.

  One man was in no state of mind to enjoy the fair or appreciate the breathtaking scenery.

  That man was Pumpkin.

  Currently, he was running for his dear life, a massive box balanced on his head, his yellow cape flapping behind him like a distressed chicken.

  His escape was anything but graceful.

  One moment, he slipped on a pile of cow dung, barely managing to stay upright.

  The next, he stepped on a dog’s tail, earning himself a series of vicious bites on his backside.

  In short—he looked absolutely miserable.

  But there was one silver lining.

  Glancing back, Pumpkin saw no sign of the angry village mob that had been chasing him just moments ago.

  “Hooo…” He heaved a sigh of relief, slowing down. His exhaustion turned into smugness, a cocky grin creeping onto his face.

  “Heh! You stupid village idiots! Did you really think you could catch and punish The Great Grand Master Pumpkin? You must be dreaming!” he declared loudly, his chest puffed with misplaced pride.

  However, his smugness quickly turned into sorrow as he recalled what he had just lost.

  He had been so close—so close—to recruiting three students at once. But now, all his plans had gone up in smoke.

  His expression darkened as he shook his fist at the sky.

  “You stupid gods! Why do you always mess with me?! Just you wait! When I die and go to heaven, I’ll give you the beating of a lifetime!”

  Just as he was about to continue his divine rant, a bolt of lightning suddenly struck the ground right in front of him—mere inches from his most precious family jewels.

  Pumpkin’s face turned pale. His knees wobbled.

  He almost peed his pants.

  “Oh sh—”

  His words caught in his throat as realization dawned.

  This was divine punishment.

  Without wasting a second, Pumpkin dropped to his knees and began kowtowing frantically.

  “Merciful gods! Please forgive me! It was just a joke! JUST A LITTLE JOKE!” he wailed.

  He pressed his forehead to the ground, sweating bullets. “I swear, I’ll donate ten coppers—no, ten SILVER coins to the shrines! And I’ll never steal from them again! You know I only took some money a few times because I was hungry and didn’t want to work… I mean, because I had no work!”

  Just as he was lifting his head, thinking he had successfully calmed the gods' wrath, another bolt of lightning struck the ground right in front of him, nearly frying his hair.

  Pumpkin screamed and slammed his forehead back into the dirt.

  “Oh, HOLY and DIVINE gods, please forgive me just this one time!” he sobbed. “I promise I will never try to seduce Nun Mary, Nun Cherry, Nun Ann, or Widow Meng! I will respect them as my sisters—NO, as my mothers!”

  He took a deep breath, preparing to continue his desperate confessions, when he suddenly heard shouting behind him.

  Curious, he peeked over his shoulder.

  What he saw made his blood run cold.

  Charging towards him was the village head, his neatly dressed robes billowing as he ran. Behind him, the angry mob had regrouped and was closing in fast.

  But that wasn’t what scared Pumpkin the most.

  The village head’s right hand was glowing with crackling electricity.

  Pumpkin’s mouth went dry.

  “Oh,” he whispered in realization. “So… it wasn’t divine punishment after all.”

  Indeed, the lightning bolts that had nearly neutered him had nothing to do with the gods.

  It had everything to do with the village head, who was an apprentice lightning mage.

  Pumpkin sighed in relief.

  Then panicked all over again.

  Because now the entire mob was casting spells—fireballs, ice shards, and gusts of wind—all aimed at him.

  His urge to bang his head on the ground and end it all was growing stronger by the second.

  “YOU PEOPLE ARE BULLIES!” Pumpkin screeched before bolting once again.

  This time, the mob pursued him with renewed determination.

  Some villagers hurled rocks and cooking utensils at him.

  Those with basic magic skills launched weak elemental spells in his direction.

  But the biggest threat came from the village head, whose apprentice lightning magic made him the deadliest of all.

  A bolt of lightning struck Pumpkin’s already messy hair, turning it into a burnt porcupine-style mess.

  The village head grinned proudly at his handiwork.

  As the only official mage in the village, he took great pride in his abilities.

  In fact, it was because of his magic title that he had easily secured his position as the village head.

  However, in recent years, the village of Suru had been unusually peaceful. No bandits, no monster invasions, no magical threats—just the daily struggles of village life.

  For most people, this was a blessing.

  For the village head, however, it was an absolute nightmare.

  As the only apprentice mage in the village, he had once basked in the admiration of the people. But with nothing to blast, zap, or incinerate, his popularity had plummeted.

  No one respected a mage who didn’t do anything mage-like.

  But now—now, the heavens had finally smiled upon him.

  Pumpkin, that yellow-caped lunatic, had delivered himself into his hands like a gift from the gods.

  The village head chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming.

  “You stupid, caped creep… I thank you from the bottom of my heart,” he thought. “Not only have you given me the perfect target to practice my magic on, but once I take you down, I’ll regain my rightful respect! You’re my lucky charm!”

  But just as he was preparing to electrocute Pumpkin into oblivion, something unexpected happened.

  Pumpkin’s speed increased exponentially.

  One second, he was in the mob’s grasp.

  The next second, he was far, far away, leaving behind a trail of dust and dumbfounded villagers.

  The village head’s jaw dropped. “W-What just happened?”

  The other villagers exchanged glances, equally stunned.

  “Did… did he just get faster?”

  “H-How can he run that fast while carrying a giant box?!”

  Even Pumpkin himself had no time to feel proud—his playfulness had completely disappeared, replaced by pure, unfiltered survival instinct.

  “Forget gathering students! My life comes first!” Pumpkin thought, his feet barely touching the ground as he dodged a flying cooking knife hurled by an angry villager.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The knife embedded itself into a nearby tree trunk, slicing through it like butter.

  Pumpkin yelped, his speed doubling once again.

  At that moment, a small figure came into view ahead of him.

  Dressed in a princess gown, the figure was running at an unbelievable speed—tiny legs pumping furiously, face drenched in sweat.

  Pumpkin squinted.

  “Oh, right. That’s Potat.”

  He had completely forgotten about his student in the chaos.

  A slight twinge of guilt poked at Pumpkin’s heart.

  But then another thought hit him—Potat had abandoned him first.

  He ran off to save his own butt, leaving his poor master behind!

  Pumpkin’s guilt instantly turned into rage.

  “Hmph! Unfilial little devil! Just you wait! Once I get out of this mess, I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget!” he shouted, fuming.

  With that, he easily caught up to Potat and was about to leave him behind when he noticed the boy’s condition.

  Potat looked absolutely miserable.

  His breath was ragged, his little legs trembled, and his face was red from the excessive running under the blazing sun.

  Pumpkin’s heart softened a little.

  “Pumpkin, oh Pumpkin! Who told you to be so kind?” he sighed dramatically, shaking his head.

  Reluctantly, he slowed down his pace.

  At that moment, Potat finally noticed him—the very man responsible for all his suffering.

  His eyes blazed with fury.

  “YOU STUPID OLD MAN!” Potat started, but before he could curse Pumpkin to hell and back, something unexpected happened.

  With a swift motion, Pumpkin scooped Potat up and tucked him under his left armpit, continuing to run at full speed.

  “Don’t worry, my little Potat! Your master will never abandon you, no matter how disobedient you are!” Pumpkin declared, flashing a bright, heroic smile.

  Potat snorted, his anger cooling just a little.

  “Hmph.” Maybe, just maybe, Pumpkin still had a bit of humanity left in him.

  But before he could dwell on the thought, Pumpkin did something so outrageous, so unforgivable, that Potat nearly spat out a mouthful of blood.

  Pumpkin realized that carrying Potat was slowing him down.

  So, like the brilliant mastermind he was, he came up with a solution.

  And what was his solution, you ask?

  He tossed Potat into the big, dirty box and slammed the lid shut.

  “Potat! Be a darling and take a nap inside! Leave everything to your master!” Pumpkin shouted cheerfully.

  Inside the box, Potat’s mind went blank.

  Then, rage erupted within him.

  “YOU STUPID, CRAZY OLD MAN! LET ME OUT!”

  He tried to shout, scream, and curse, but the moment he opened his mouth, a putrid stench invaded his nostrils.

  The horrifying smell inside the box was so unbearable, Potat almost vomited on the spot.

  Outside, Pumpkin laughed maniacally, now running faster than ever.

  People stopped in their tracks, staring in shock.

  “How can a human run that fast?!”

  “He’s like a monster!”

  “And what’s in that giant box?!”

  Even the villagers who had been chasing him started second-guessing their life choices.

  Meanwhile, inside the box, Potat silently swore revenge.

  Right now, Pumpkin was as pleased as a fox who had just raided a chicken coop.

  “Hehehehe! Eat my dust, village idiots!” he cackled, throwing a mocking glance over his shoulder. “Did you really think you could catch this master when you move slower than a turtle with a broken leg? You must be dreaming!”

  Feeling victorious, he whistled cheerfully while running at a careful, steady pace. Soon enough, he reached the edge of the village.

  In front of him stretched the mighty Turag River—its powerful current roaring like a guardian beast.

  There was a small port near the shore, where several small boats were usually anchored beneath the shade of a massive banyan tree. These boats were the main mode of transportation for the villagers whenever they needed to cross the river.

  However, Pumpkin had always been creeped out by that giant tree.

  Even though this was his second time seeing it, the eerie, twisting branches and thick, gnarled roots still made his skin crawl.

  “How the hell did this tree get so big and creepy?” he thought, shivering slightly. “I swear, there must be a ghost living in there…”

  But he didn’t have time to dwell on ghost stories. He scanned the area, searching for a boat to make his grand escape.

  Then he noticed something problematic.

  There were no boats.

  His stomach sank.

  Just as he took a few cautious steps closer to the water, searching for any sign of a boat hidden among the reeds, he felt a chill crawl down his spine.

  A slow, eerie chuckling echoed around him.

  Pumpkin turned around—his face immediately draining of color.

  A mob of over 40 villagers had completely surrounded him.

  They all wore identical, terrifying grins.

  Like a pack of wolves who had just cornered a delicious, pumpkin-flavored meal.

  “...Ah.”

  Pumpkin gulped. It didn’t take him long to realize he had fallen into a trap.

  “Hehehe! Now you’re just a caged rat, you perverted creep!” sneered the muscular bald man—the very man Pumpkin had once tried to recruit as a student.

  “Let’s see you wiggle out of this one!”

  Standing proudly at the front of the mob, the village head twisted his pointy mustache and laughed smugly.

  “Let him try! No matter how slippery his tongue is, there’s no escaping this time. My plan is 100% foolproof!”

  Pumpkin was sweating bullets. His brain kicked into overdrive, desperately searching for an escape plan.

  “Think, Pumpkin, think! How do I get out of this mess?!”

  Then, with the confidence of a master con artist, he plastered on his most charming smile.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” he said smoothly, “aren’t we all civilized people? Let’s put aside these petty grudges and become friends!”

  But the villagers weren’t buying a single word.

  “Don’t listen to his sweet talk! Just beat him up!” roared the middle-aged woman—the very same woman who had nearly been seduced into becoming his student.

  The mob stepped closer, their weapons glinting under the sunlight.

  Some villagers polished their cooking knives, making sure they were extra sharp.

  Others muttered incantations, preparing their elementary magic spells.

  Pumpkin’s face paled.

  He immediately switched tactics.

  “WAIT! WAIT! DON’T BE HASTY!” he cried. “I’ll make it up to you! How about some of my handmade pumpkin candy?”

  No response.

  “Fine! Take my box! It’s big, it’s dirty, and it smells terrible—a true relic of history!”

  Still nothing.

  “I’ll give you a free beauty massage!”

  The villagers took another step forward.

  “Alright, fine! I’ll teach you my ultimate technique!”

  The mob didn’t even blink.

  Desperate, he pointed toward the box where Potat was trapped.

  “IT WAS ALL MY STUDENT’S FAULT!” he shouted.

  “...YOU TRAITOR!” Potat’s muffled voice screamed from inside the box which no one noticed.

  But the villagers remained unfazed.

  Pumpkin sighed dramatically.

  “Fine. I give up.”

  The unexpected words made the villagers pause.

  “You people are forcing my hand!” Pumpkin continued, his voice suddenly calm and serious. “I’m not a violent man, but even a cornered rat will bite the cat.”

  There was no trace of cunningness in his voice this time.

  For the first time since this ridiculous chase began, he actually looked like a real Grand Master.

  The villagers hesitated.

  Some exchanged worried glances.

  “Wait… is he actually dangerous?”

  “Maybe we underestimated him…?”

  The village head quickly snapped out of it.

  “Don’t fall for his tricks again!” he barked. “He’s just trying to scare you! Stay focused!”

  His words seemed to reignite the villagers’ anger.

  But then something strange happened.

  The air around Pumpkin began to buzz.

  His messy hair started to rise, and tiny sparks of electricity flickered around his head.

  Pumpkin let out a melancholy sigh.

  “Forgive me, simple villagers.” He closed his eyes dramatically. “When I’m like this, I can’t control my powers.”

  His voice was so sorrowful that some villagers actually started to feel guilty.

  Then his eyes snapped open.

  “But don’t blame me! You have only yourselves to blame for waking the beast inside me!”

  Some villagers took a cautious step back.

  But the village head wasn’t convinced.

  “DON’T BE AFRAID! HE’S JUST A FRAUD!” he shouted, though his own feet inched backward ever so slightly. “REMEMBER! I AM STILL WITH YOU! I AM AN APPRENTICE MAGE!”

  Pumpkin’s lips curled into a maniacal grin.

  Then he threw his head back and laughed hysterically.

  The sound sent chills down the villagers’ spines.

  For the first time…

  They weren’t so sure he was bluffing.

  Pumpkin's maniacal laughter echoed through the air as he hoisted his large, filthy box with one hand and began spinning it wildly using its strap.

  The villagers, already on edge, stiffened in horror.

  But the next thing that happened nearly made them lose their minds in fear.

  The big box—the very same box Pumpkin had been lugging around—began howling like a demon.

  A ghastly, unholy wailing sound erupted from within, sending shivers down the spines of even the bravest villagers.

  Pumpkin, too, was startled for a brief moment.

  Then, upon listening a little closer, he realized something.

  The "demonic howling" was none other than Potat, who was still trapped inside the box, vomiting uncontrollably from being spun around like a carnival ride.

  "Ahem." Pumpkin coughed awkwardly, trying to regain his dignity.

  With a sorrowful sigh, he dramatically proclaimed,

  “Behold… my Pandora’s Box! You fools have angered me, and now you shall face the wrath of the man-eating demon that dwells within!”

  The villagers, already terrified by the eerie wails and Pumpkin’s ominous declaration, panicked.

  "H-He really is a monster!" someone screamed.

  "The demon is real! We’re doomed!"

  The entire mob scattered like frightened chickens.

  And leading the charge?

  The village head himself.

  Pumpkin, seeing this, couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire.

  “It’s too late to run now! Blame your own stupidity for angering me!” he bellowed, laughing like a true villain.

  In the midst of their blind panic, one of the villagers suddenly turned on the village head.

  “This is all your fault!” he cried. “Because of your idiotic plan, we’re all going to die!”

  The other villagers quickly joined in.

  “Yeah! You led us straight to our doom!”

  “I never even wanted to be here! My wife told me to stay home!”

  “Curse you, village head!”

  As for the village head himself?

  He had no words. He could only look up at the sky and curse the gods for his rotten luck.

  But just when it seemed like all was lost, a loud splash interrupted the chaos.

  The villagers whipped their heads toward the river—and what they saw almost made them collapse.

  Pumpkin had tossed the big box—with Potat still inside—into the water.

  And without hesitation, he leaped onto it, standing proudly as it floated downstream.

  His cunning smile gleamed beneath his oversized glasses, the sunlight reflecting off the lenses like a fox who had just tricked an entire henhouse.

  “Hahahahahaha!” Pumpkin cackled, waving mockingly at the villagers. “Fooled you again, you stupid village idiots!”

  He placed his hands on his hips and scoffed.

  “**Hmph! Did you really think you fools were worthy of witnessing my ultimate attack? Count yourselves lucky! If I hadn’t been in such a good mood, you’d all be dead by now!”

  The villagers’ faces turned blue with anger.

  “YOU FRAUD!” someone screamed.

  “KILL HIM!”

  They hurled everything they could get their hands on—rocks, cooking pots, sandals, even someone’s wooden clogs.

  But it was too late.

  Pumpkin was too far away.

  This was especially painful for the village head and the muscular bald man, who had now been tricked not once, but TWICE.

  Seeing the bald man, Pumpkin suddenly had one last idea.

  “Hey, Baldy!” he called out, smirking. “Are you really sure you don’t want to become my student? Think about all the opportunities you’re missing out on!”

  The bald man gritted his teeth.

  Pumpkin grinned wider.

  “I could teach you my legendary muscle-building technique—the Sweaty Body technique! Just imagine all the fun we could have… getting sweaty together.”

  The villagers froze.

  Their eyes slowly turned toward the bald man, their expressions filled with suspicion.

  The bald man’s veins bulged in anger.

  “Y-YOU BASTARD!” he roared. “JUST YOU WAIT! I’LL GRIND YOUR BONES TO DUST!”

  Fueled by pure rage, he jumped into the river and started swimming toward Pumpkin’s floating box.

  Pumpkin, seeing the bald man closing in far too quickly, panicked.

  “Crap, he’s actually fast!”

  Without thinking, he dropped to all fours and—like a deranged frog—began rowing with his arms and legs.

  The box shot forward like a boat with an engine.

  The yellow cape on his back fluttered wildly, making him look like a desperate amphibian fleeing for his life.

  From the shore, the villagers could only stare in disbelief.

  They genuinely did not know whether to laugh or cry.

  All they could do was watch helplessly as Pumpkin drifted further and further away, his laughter echoing in the distance.

  And just like that, one of the strangest events in the village’s history came to an end.

  But the story of Grand Master Pumpkin did not end there.

  From that day forward, two hand-drawn wanted posters appeared in the village pub.

  The first poster featured a strange yellow-caped man with oversized glasses, labeled:

  “The Caped Creep.”

  The second poster showed a baby gorilla in a frilly princess dress, labeled:

  “The Mountain Gorilla.”

  And so, the legend of Pumpkin and Potat lived on in the minds of the villagers—especially in the minds of children, who would forever remember them as their worst nightmares.

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