In the capital of Moro, a bar was resounding with songs and shanties as the whole mass of people sang the same song, their voices echoing in unison. Amidst the group, a tall black guy rose, with a half-empty cup of wine in his hand as he too sang.
"In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight.
In the jungle, the quiet jungle, the lion sleeps tonight."
On a table, placed beside the tall black man, another guy with a halberd on his back shoved the head of the wine bottle in his mouth, gulping the liquor down before starting the second verse. He was the who had picked this song.
"In the village, the peaceful village, the lion sleeps tonight.
In the village, the quiet village, the lion sleeps tonight."
"Buwakakaka, my man. Never did I think I'd find someone like you in this bar." The black man said as he smacked the shoulder of Tufail Tigor multiple times. "Truth be *hic* told, your name was sufficient enough to make us friends, Simba the Lion King." Tufail replied.
"Buwakaka, men of culture, aren't we." Said Simba before continuing. "Why are you here, buddy? In the city, I mean."
Tufail dropped his ass on the chair nearest to the table and replied. "To save a son *hic* of my old companion." Simba clapped prior to saying. "That's very noble of you, buddy."
Tufail turned his gaze towards the black man, he was a jolly one with braided hair. "What *hic* made a bandit like you come all the way here." Asked Tufail before Simba guffawed. "Buwakaka, what else other than the Fire Fate Pome."
"Huh, is that so... I *hic* think I can help you with that." The words of Tufail Tigor caused half of the bar, that was still sober enough, to quickly turn and glare at him.
Simba's smile grew wider, his white teeth peeking through. "What you got, buddy?" Tufail smiled wickedly in response and winked at Simba. "It's in my possession." He then took an item out of his robe, displaying it. "Ta-dah!"
The entire bar turned silent, all eyes glued to the object in his hand.
"Buwakaka, that was a nice one. You had me there for a second, buwakaka."
"Hahaha, he fooled us all."
"Kikiki, such a trickster."
"Eh, are you guys are drunk *hic* or what?" Tufail asked.
"No buddy, but I believe you are, take a closer look at your hand."
With Simba's urging, he looked at his hand and found that it was just an apple he brought out, not the Fire Fate Pome.
"This must be *hic* Maron's doing, that ancient *hic* bastard." Tufail cussed before drinking more wine. Then he asked another question. "What would *hic* you do with that pome?"
The laughter of Simba fell and turned into a smile. "I want to build a stronghold. Every bandit dreams of becoming their own boss and owning a piece of land. Unfortunately, that requires a great deal of power."
He then looked at the people sitting near him. "These 50 guys have believed and followed me for a long time. I owe it to them as well, Not all bandits are the scum of the earth. I want to make a stronghold that represents peace and prosperity, a stronghold with no injustice and discrimination."
The eyes of nearby bandits turned teary. "Boss, stop or I'll cry."
At the same time, a table was knocked away in the corner by a man in a purple robe. "You despicable bastards! So, you were all bandits all along! With your greedy eyes on the Fire Fate Pome, no less."
"Buwakaka, it was just a joke. We're all drunk, don't take everything we say so seriously, buddy." Said Simba.
The man in purple made a disgusted face. "Don't you dare call me buddy, I am an honourable adventurer and I will hand you all to the soldiers of the kingdom. Tie them up." He ordered his subordinates.
Understanding that he and his companions were in trouble, Simba urged them. "I will hold him off here, you guys hurry up and leave. Don't forget to take this buddy with you."
Simba gritted his teeth and made a fist, his muscles bulging.
"You said you're called The Lion King Simba, right?" He asked as he dashed forward, his speed astonishing everyone as he closed the gap and kicked Simba away.
"Then just for today, I'll call myself Scar." But then suddenly, he was hit by something and flung away, breaking the chairs and tables along the way before getting up and hollering. "Who the fuck was that?"
A man with a halberd in hand came out, looking straight into the adventurer's eyes and saying. "It's been a long time, Scar."
Dumbfounded, the adventurer asked. "What do you mean, who are you?"
"Your brother." Replied Tufail.
The eyes of the adventurer twitched, the tense atmosphere quickly lessening. "I- I don't understand, who are you?"
"I'm Mufasa, you evil motherfucker."
Maron was sitting inside the room of the Guild Master, the mysterious man with the spear sitting next to him. Old man Maron held a cup of tea in his hand, took a sip and pondered. "I wonder what cap' is doing right now. I probably made the right decision by taking the Fire Fate Pome from him. Sigh, please keep a low profile, cap."