Candy, Cactus, and Chaos

On the other hand, the minions entered an musty inn just outside the Hai-iro market. They quickly moved through the quiet and old hall, up the slightly curved stairs on the left, then down the corridor until they reached a room.

[Tap-Tap]

They knocked three times, tapping gently at the fusuma door.

[Creakkk-Slide]

Footsteps approached from the other side, measured but faint, as though their owner was trying not to be heard. Slowly, the door slid open, and a shadowed figure emerged into view.

The man behind it wore a wide sugegasa hat that veiled most of his face, save for the sharp angle of his chin and a calculating set to his mouth. It was the Boss.

"Come in," he whispered, throwing a quick glance down both ends of the dim corridor before waving them inside.

They entered the room, the three gathered around a low, wooden table. The Boss settled cross-legged onto a cushion, while his minions nervously fidgeted with their sleeves as they mirrored his posture.

"Well? Let's hear it," the Boss prompted, folding his arms and narrowing his eyes.

"Deal successful, Boss!" piped up Number 1

"Successful," added Number 2.

"Wonderful. Were there... any issues?" His voice dropped an octave, laden with suspicion.

"Y-Yes, Boss. Some samurai were there," admitted Number 1.

"Samurai?" Number 2 echoed.

The Boss stiffened. His calm exterior twitched as visible beads of sweat formed along his temple, despite the cool, drafty room. "S-Samurai?" he stammered, attempting to maintain his composure. "H-how did they get there? Were they following us?"

"We don't know, Boss," answered Number 1 flatly.

"Don't know," repeated Number 2.

The Boss exhaled sharply and leaned forward. For a second, he seemed to stare through them rather than at them.

"Phew... that's still a relief," he muttered, mostly to himself.

"If they didn't intervene, we're good for now. Now—go on, give me the pouch."

"Yes, Boss!" they both replied in unison, pulling a small kinchaku pouch from the folds of Number 1's sleeve. Its crimson color stood out starkly in the otherwise drab room.

The minions handed their Boss the kinchaku pouch they had received from Felix.

As the Boss untied the string his fingers trembled and, when the pouch opened he reached inside, his expression shifted from mild anticipation to frozen confusion. For a second, he simply stared at the pouch's contents.

At first, he seemed unsure, hesitant, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His fingers fumbled over the contents, his mind struggling to reconcile the expectation of money with the colorful, sugary wrappers that now rested in his palm.

For a moment, he just stood there, blinking, as though waiting for the candy to magically transform into something more substantial. But it didn't.

"...Candy?" His voice cracked slightly as he held one up, his hand shaking. He grasped it like it was a blood-stained dagger.

"Am I seeing things, or is this candy?" The Boss exclaimed, surprised to the point of questioning reality. "WHERE IS THE MONEY?" he shouted.

"B-b-but, Boss!" stammered Number 1, flailing as though he could explain away the obvious. "W-we exchanged the package correctly!"

"Correctly," nodded Number 2 emphatically.

"We even said the right code word," exclaimed Number 1.

"Code word," added Number 2.

"ARGHH... YOU—" The Boss growled, gripping the candy hard enough to crush its wrapper. Before he could unleash his wrath, a sharp thunk interrupted him.

[Clunk-Clunk]

The noise came from the direction of the closed wooden frame of the shoji-covered window. A loud tapping followed—insistent and rhythmic. The translucent paper rippled each time something struck it.

[Slide]

The three turned, tense and bewildered. The Boss, with a mixture of annoyance and wariness, stood and slid the window open. Immediately, a small figure leapt in—a Birdkin, their feathers sleek and blue. It perched on the windowsill, ruffling itself indignantly.

"You have a message from Master Bosu," said the newcomer in a clipped, businesslike tone.

"From Master Bosu!"

Before the Boss could inquire further, the Birdkin extended one clawed foot, which gripped a tightly tied parchment.

The indignation drained from the Boss's face, replaced by a rare kind of reverence as he clutched the note.

The Birdkin offered a curt squawk, flew off as suddenly as it had come, and disappeared into the overcast sky.

The Boss unfurled the parchment with practiced care. His sharp eyes scanned the text quickly, his face darkening with every word. A strained silence filled the room.

"B-Boss? What does the message say?" asked Number 1 hesitantly.

"Say?" Number 2 echoed.

"Hmmm... now I understand why our deal failed," said the Boss as he walked back to his minions while reading the message. "Our package was taken by Cactus members," he announced.

"Cactus?" both minions gasped in unison.

"How did that happen, Boss?" asked Number 1.

"Happen?" Number 2 echoed.

"Yes... it has happened." The Boss placed his hands on his hips. "The message I received from Master Bosu just now states that the men who were supposed to be there were caught by some Cactus gang member."

The minions exchanged shocked glances as the Boss explained further.

"The Cactus gang must have beaten them until they revealed what the code word was. This means that the person you dealt with was an undercover Cactus gang member," he concluded.

"Yes, Boss," the minions responded in understanding tones.

"You two need to get out of here now. If you stay here, you risk my safety as well. Go somewhere and hide for two or three days until things cool down."

"Stay out of sight. If those Cactus fools track you, they'll make short work of me—and you," he barked.

"Now you two—get out of here. Don't come back to this inn, or this street, or this damn city until I say so. If those scum track you, both of you—and me—are as good as corpses." The Boss seethed.

"Y-y-yes, Boss!" the minions stammered, scrambling to their feet and bowing furiously as they backed out of the room.

The minions left the room, and the Boss sat back on his cushion, trying to relax while waiting for the regular tea service of the day. Every day around noon, the inn's staff would bring tea to the guests.

As he sat there, the Boss thought to himself, "To think that Cactus members would interfere with Master Bosu's work—they've got guts. This must be their way of showing that nothing is acceptable in Midono unless it's under their control." His hand moved into the candy pouch, and he picked one out, slowly bringing it to his mouth.

"Gack!" The Boss's face turned blue as he tasted the candy, which was sugary beyond belief.

Meanwhile, outside, Number 1 and Number 2 walked hastily away from the inn, their eyes darting nervously over their shoulders.

"Do you know what the Cactus gang is?" Number 1 asked, his voice trembling with unease.

Number 2 didn't respond to his question. "You never answer, do you? I feel like I'm talking to myself," said Number 1.

As they moved a little farther from the inn, Number 1's eyes fell on something terrifying.

"Are you sure they came this way?" a woman asked a man she was walking with arm in arm.

"Yes, I am certain," the tall man with black hair and hunter-shaped red eyes replied.

"Run! Those are the people we traded our package with, the Cactus gang!" Number 1 said urgently, his arms flailing backward as he staggered.

"Run!" echoed Number 2.

They started running back to the inn, where the Boss waited for the tea service to bring him the tea he needed for the headache he was having.

"When are these people going to bring my damn tea?" the Boss muttered. "My head is already killing me from losing that valuable package, and now my tongue is on fire from this candy."

[Tap-Tap]

Someone knocked at the Boss's room door. "Finally, it's time," the Boss thought as he got up to open the door.

[Slide]

"Who is it?" he called out.

"Boss!" The minions shouted in unison as they barged into the room, their faces pale and frantic. "Boss! Boss! Please save us. Save us, please!"

"Huh? What are you doing here?" the Boss demanded, surprise flashing across his face. "I thought I told you to get out of here!" he barked.

"The Cactus members have reached here, following us," Number 1 said in a trembling voice, hands clasped together in a pleading gesture. "Save us!"

"What?!"

"Yes, Boss. We have seen them with our own eyes... entering this hotel."

"You idiots! Why have you both come here to get me killed? Now because of you, I'll be caught!"

[Tap-Tap]

"Shhh, it's them," The Boss whispered.

"They will not be able to catch me. They will not be able to catch me," the Boss muttered, his head swiveling around as he looked for an escape.

As the Boss muttered to himself, pacing around the room, Number 1 and Number 2 flanked him nervously. 

[Tap-Tap] 

The unmistakable sound of someone knocking at their door made them sweat a river. The minions clutched at the Boss's sleeve.

[Tap-Tap]

"No, no, no! They won't get me." The boss hissed, sliding the shoji window open.

The Boss jumped first, his arms flailing wildly like a startled rooster. Number 1 followed close behind. Meanwhile, Number 2 stood frozen near the window, paralyzed by a fear of heights.

"Your future tell me that you will have sometihng big..." said a small fortune teller lady in a tent

She was about 140 cm, her appearance matching the enigmatic nature of her surroundings. She was dressed in a long, black gown that seemed to flow like liquid and a pointed hat perched atop her head.

Her face, painted in white, highlighted her piercing, dark brown eyes. Her expression was soft, yet there was a subtle mischief to her smile.

The tent she occupied was small, barely more than a cramped space under a dark cloth roof.

The interior was dim, with only a few candles flickering in the corners, their yellow light casting long, uneven shadows on the faded walls. 

The air inside was thick with the scent of incense and a lingering dampness, making it feel both cozy and suffocating at the same time. A table at the center of the tent held a crystal ball. The ground was covered with tattered rugs layered one on top of another.

"Your future tells me that you will have something big," said the fortune teller.

"A big what!?" the man sitting on the other side of the table who was their to ask about his future asked with excitement.

"Big boobs? Tell me it's big boobs!" the man tried to make his own conclusions.

The old fortune teller moved her hands over the ball. "It's a big..."

"Bigg...?" the man echoed with his eyes sparkling.

"Bigg..." the lady continued.

[THUD]

The Boss crashed into the tent like a meteorite, landing squarely on the table and shattering the fortune teller's crystal ball.

"Ah! My crystal ball!" the fortune teller shrieked, clutching her hat as if it were about to fly away. "You've just altered the cosmic balance, you clumsy walrus!"

Number 1 jumped and Number 2 was just behind him, following suit. With a nervous glance over his shoulder, he threw himself out of the window, the old wooden frame creaking as it gave way to his weight.

Number 1 crashed directly into a juggler who was performing with fiery torches near the tent, his Hyottoko mask crookedly perched on his face.

The juggler's juggling routine had been flawless just moments before, but now it was turning into a disaster of flaming torches flying every which way.

"WHAA—!" The juggler yelped as he tumbled sideways, unable to keep his balance. His hands flailed wildly, trying to keep hold of the torches. One of them flew through the air, landing dangerously close to Number 1's behind.

"AHH!" Number 1 screamed as the torch made contact with his backside. A look of horror crossed his face as the flame started to catch on the fabric of his pants.

"AHHH! MY BUTT! MY BUTT IS ON FIRE!" he yelped, leaping up, only to panic and try to pat his backside with both hands. This only made the flames dance more wildly, as he failed to put out the fire.

In contrast, just as Number 2's feet were about to meet the cobblestones, a man pushing a cart piled high with bags of flour came into view.

The cart rattled over the uneven stones, and the man's concentration was fixed on his load, unaware of the imminent disaster.

[CRASH!]

Number 2 landed squarely in the middle of the cart, his body sinking deep into the mountain of flour bags. He tumbled forward with a heavy grunt, sending flour spilling across the street in all directions, like an explosion of white powder.

"Wh-what the—?!" the cart-pushing man yelled, his hands flying to the reins of the cart in an attempt to control the chaos.

The man tried to steady the cart, and Number 2 was buried deeper in the pile, his face half-covered in flour.

"Get off!" the man shouted, scrambling back, his eyes wide as he surveyed the disaster.

Number 2 staggered to his feet, flour dusting his hair, his sleeves, and even his eyebrows. He blinked through the haze, completely disoriented.

But as Number 2 stumbled out of the flour cart, the man who had been pushing it grabbed him by the arm, looking half angry, half panicked.

Meanwhile, the juggler, now standing on his feet, turned to see the utter chaos Number 1 had caused. He raised his hands helplessly, and all he could do was manage a strained, "I'll just… uh… just go over there now…"

"YEEEOOWWWW!" Number 1 screamed, hopping around like a madman. His body jerked and twitched as he tried to pat out the fire on his rear end. In his panic, he started running towards the juggler, who, realizing what was coming, turned around and sprinted away.

"Wait, no! Don't come here!" He yelled, his voice hoarse from screaming.

The juggler, now a few feet ahead, suddenly stopped and turned around as he saw a thick wooden stick. He picked it up and shouted, "Okay, okay! I'll help you!" He started running towards Number 1, stick in hand, ready to beat out the flames.

Number 1, seeing the juggler approaching with the thick wooden stick, let out a terrified shriek. "NO! NOT THE BEATING! ANYTHING BUT THE BEATING!" He turned around and started running in the opposite direction, the flames on his backside rising higher as he went.

The juggler, determined to help, chased after him, shouting, "I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU, MAN! STOP RUNNING!"

As they ran, people scrambled to get out of their way. The scene was a mix of horror and comedy, with Number 1's frantic yelps and the juggler's determined shouts filling the air.

Suddenly, Number 1 mustered up the courage to endure the beating, at least it would stop the fire.

"OKAY FINE, DO IT QUICK!" Number 1 shouted as he started running backward.

The juggler, seeing this, tightened his grip on the wooden stick. "Okay, I can do it, I can do it..." he whispered as the fire came closer.

"I CAN'T DO IT!" the juggler shouted, and in a burst of panic, he dropped the stick and bolted the other way.

"HELP ME!" Number 1 wailed, running after him.

"I can't!" the juggler yelled, sprinting ahead with newfound energy, his eyes darting wildly as he made a break for safety.