In front of Jett's eyes was a small, circular town center.
But the Cartographer didn't transport him to the real world; he was still within the artifact.
As he looked around, it appeared this entire place was enclosed in a circus tent.
However, instead of the tent being made of real materials, it was composed of grey fog, similar to that of the Soul Realm.
Surrounding the edges of the small, dome-like pocket dimension were a few tents and commercial stalls.
"Where are we?" Jett asked the small Toze, whom he followed behind closely.
"This is the Troupe's Carnival. People come and go to engage in our various services. But no matter! We must get straight to business!" Toze the Dominator exclaimed.
While the Carnival was mostly empty, a few robed and masked beings gently walked, paying no mind to Jett and Toze for which they reciprocated.
Eventually, they reached a singular, empty yurt on the outskirts of the circus tent dimension.
Stepping inside, there was nothing but a lantern lit in the center and a few odd knick knacks neatly arranged.
"This here is the soul of the Troupe, where I, Toze the Dominator, reside."
"I see…"
'This isn't the soul, this is just his empty home! Perhaps I overestimated the Troupe. Am I really gonna get any money from this guy?'
"Anyway, straight to business," the small armored mutant paced around the empty tent. "But first, I feel I should impart some wisdom upon you, young One of Fate."
"My name is Jett."
"Do not interrupt," Toze demanded.
Jett nodded in response, though perturbed inside.
"First you must understand that the Troupe is a creed, one which does not care for race, only respect. Second, you must understand that everything should be kept tidy. This means your house and your life. Third, you must understand that fathers are not to be trusted. They will demand everything from you, till you have nothing left. If you wish to lead your life properly, you must kill him. Fifth, nothing can hurt you. This leads tidily into my sixth wisdom: do not fear. The only thing you must fear is pain, but if nothing hurts, then fear does not exist. My seventh wisdom is that fear is good for survival. My eighth is that surviving is good. So, therefore, following the seventh wisdom, embracing fear is a must to fulfill my these tenets, which is the requirement of the ninth—"
"Sorry, but can we get straight to business? I'm quite strapped for Catas at the moment."
"…If you did not interrupt me, you would know that wisdom number twenty-two elaborates on the second wisdom of keeping everything tidy. One mustn't chase the temptations of the world, for temptations get messy, which would violate the second wisdom. However, correlating with wisdom fifty-five of fulfilling the wishes of others as long as it's convenient, I will get straight to business."
'Finally. What's wrong with this guy?'
"Basically, a certain Troupe member disregarded wisdom thirty-seven, do not lend items of temptation, and now we must repossess that item. Not to mention it was also a violation of wisdom sixty, never trust humans for they do not respect mutant-kind. This whole situation is messy, a violation of the second wisdom—"
"Just point me in the right direction, I'll get the item back," Jett asserted.
"You are too eager, young one. Eagerness goes against wisdom twenty-nine, being nonchalant regarding your problems greatly bolsters your relationships. There are many things we must first get in order, per the second wisdom."
Toze walked over to the corner of his extremely empty abode, taking a book out of a massive stack.
"First, would you be interested in purchasing my book of wisdom?" Toze asked. "You won't always have my guidance in the wider world. I feel it is a requirement for any respectable being to own and follow."
"Ah… sorry. As I said, I don't have much money to spare."
"Shouldn't be a problem, here you go," Toze said, holding out his book of wisdom.
"…Wouldn't that be a violation of wisdom thirty-seven and sixty?
…
Toze opened his book, bringing it up to his helmet's slit and flipping through it, staring with a blazing intensity.
"Hmm…"
'For fuck's sake.'
***
After frustratingly navigating with Toze and his strict adhesion to preposterous moral and philosophical tenets, Jett finally squeezed the proper information out of him regarding the task while simultaneously turning down the offer of his book.
It was quite a straightforward job.
A talisman merchant in the Troupe had loaned a powerful talisman to a local tavern owner named Terell Jenik. He promised to pay it back with interest after a week.
However, this promise went unfulfilled.
Now it was Jett's job to return the item, using force if need be.
'Guess I'm a loanshark now…'
For reasons unknown to Jett, this owner was actually a Soul Released who also had hired several low Acolyte bodyguards. Because of this, there was a certain level of danger for Jett, however, it seemed like nothing he couldn't handle. Fighting wasn't the only path to success for this mission.
'Did Terell cross the local gang leader and require protection?'
It wasn't Jett's job to ask questions. He was perfectly content with being a mindless drone in this situation, so long as he was properly compensated.
However, he did question why the Troupe hadn't sent 'Toze the Dominator' to handle this mission.
…
Jett walked from the East side to the West side of the Lower City without any issue.
Adapting to life in the Lower City was a remarkably easy feat. He kept his head down while still being aware of any potential dangers.
Coincidentally, the tavern owner's establishment was in the same town square where he lost Valeria.
Even more coincidentally was the fact that this particular tavern was the same one he had been kicked out of previously.
'Hope that doesn't cause any issues. They shouldn't recognize me, right?'
He grabbed hold of the door handle, tugging on it.
…
'Locked?'
It was only mid-day, Lower City taverns never closed…
'Did they anticipate me coming?'
A slight tingle formed in Jett's stomach.
He peered through the front windows of the tavern.
The tavern's inside was so dark that he couldn't accurately discern anything.
'I'd rather not break a window. This amount of Soul shouldn't mess me up…'
Jett looked around, waiting for a gap in the amount of pedestrians walking by to attract as little attention as possible.
Building Soul in his fist, he punched straight through the wooden door.
Fiddling inside, he managed to unlock the door from the other side.
'Here goes nothing.'
With one hand gripped on the sheathed dagger hidden within his cloak, Jett slowly opened the tavern door.
…
Stepping inside and closing the door, Jett witnessed the aftermath of a bloodbath.
'The hell happened here?'
There were at least half a dozen dead men scattered throughout the tavern.
Tables had been overturned, glasses broken and shattered, and blood splattered.
The putrid stench of death began to creep into Jett's nostrils as he slowly crept through the still scene.
Fear began to well up within Jett.
Each step reacted with the crackling of glass as he stepped over several bodies, pools of blood, and fallen stools.
One round table had been knocked over sideways, a corpse lying upright against it.
It belonged to one of the large men who had intimidated him into leaving yesterday.
Jett squinted his eyes as he inspected the body.
'Face is pale. No bloating. Must have died a little over half a day ago. A sword wound straight through the heart, not a bar brawl but likely a gang battle. Armaments are heavily regulated in the Lower City.'
None of these were the tavern owner; he needed to clear out the rest of the building.
'Wait…'
Why was the door locked?
It had been over half a day since the fight, shouldn't the perpetrators have fled?
Maybe they locked the door on their way out?
…
"ANDERS, IS THAT YOU?" a distressed man's voice called out from the second floor.
Jett increased his pace, quickly making his way to the base of the stairs in the far corner of the tavern.
"Terell? Is that you? What happened here?" Jett replied, acting in disbelief.
"Oh thank the gods you came!" Terell groaned in relief.
His voice came from the first room on the second floor.
Jogging up the stairs, Jett stood with his back against the wall, peering into the room where Terell was.
Terell stood completely still in a defensive stance, his eyes locked onto something directly in front of him.
His gaze occasionally darted towards the door in anticipation, though he didn't notice the lurking man outside.
"Come in here quick! I got this bitch with my talisman," Terell called out, his voice gleeful yet malicious. "She killed everyone, but she's frozen. I got her! But I can't move either."
Unsheathing his dagger, Jett stepped into the bedroom with an alert look as he scanned the room.
Like Terell said, there were two people inside the room.
"You aren't Anders…" Terell exhaled, his face contorting with dread.
"I'm here on behalf of the Troupe, Terell," Jett reassured.
"Thank goodness. Please, kill her! She's gonna kill me if I look away!"
A few feet in front of him was a cloaked figure, two shortswords outstretched in an attempt to kill Terell.
Cautiously, Jett pulled off the hood of the cloaked woman before backing away.
…
"…Valeria?"
"Jett?"
The mysterious destroyer of the tavern was none other than his long-lost vigilante partner.
"Okay," Jett walked between the two frozen figures, both staring at Jett with confusion. "What the hell happened here?"
"THIS CRAZY WOMAN CAME IN HERE HACKING AND—"
"Basically these guys—"
"…SHE KILLED ALL MY MEN AND—
"…kidnap me so they were obviously the type of criminals we were—"
"Leroy was like a fucking brother to me! Please you have to kill her!"
Jett could barely hear either story as the two talked over one another, Terell obviously in a panic over the two knowing one another.
…
"Both of you shut up, please."
They complied.
"Valeria…"
"Yeah?"
"When I let you go, you cannot kill this guy. He's indebted to the Cartographer's Troupe, my employers."
"You got a job?"
"What? YOU'RE LETTING HER GO?"
Walking up to the frozen Terell, Jett reached for the black pendant hanging from the tavern owner's neck, yanking the entire necklace talisman.
The two were instantly broken free.
"She's gonna kill me!"
Sheathing her shortswords, Valeria walked up to the terrified tavern owner, frozen despite being freed from the restraints of the talisman.
…WHAM
A meaty collision of knuckle and jaw sent Terell backward, his unconscious body flopping on the bed behind him.