Advent Of A Gunslinger

Soon enough, the waitress would return with their orders and the two would dine in comfort without any fear of their surroundings for a change. To say that it was a relaxing experience was a massive understatement.

“This injera is amazing…” Spitha said as she took a bit of the bread and mixed it with the ghost pepper curry, “And the spice is quite nice too!”

Mio stared as she ate, realizing that she was consuming some of the spiciest curry in existence casually. “...Well, she is a dragon after all. That stuff is second nature to her.” After a eating a few sambusas, he’d hear her speak.

“Oh, Mio--you got something right…”

“Hm?”

Spitha leaned forward and wiped a crumb away from the scar on his face near his eyes. “There. We wouldn’t want you to suffer irritation on your face, now would we?”

“I--erm…” Mio was unable to respond. His ears flopped as he pushed his glasses up in order to hide the embarrassed expression with his face. “Thank you…”

“You’re very welcome,” Spitha said with a giggle.

Once they were finished eating, they left the restaurant with full stomachs and calm states of mind. It was about 4PM by this point, and Mio noticed the time thanks to the clocktower in the middle of the city.

“Hrm...I hate to cut our little tour short, but I should head back to the hotel and relax myself with the prescription Dr. Pussycat gave me.”

The dragoness was understanding, and expressed her concern for him. “That’s quite alright--in fact, I’ll return with you to make sure you get there safely.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that…”

As Mio would soon find out, Spitha was not very easy to convince once her mind was made up. “But I want to,” she pleaded, “...If you don’t mind, that is. I just don’t want you to get hurt again if I can prevent it.”

“...She feels guilty,” Mio thought to himself, “Over the fact that she couldn’t save me in time. I wish she didn’t fret over me, but I can understand what she’s feeling. To deny her would simply be rude.” He then replied, “Alright, I'd appreciate it, Spitha. Thank you.”

“Good--now let’s go so you can get yourself some rest as soon as possible, okay?” She grabbed ahold of his hand, and started to walk ahead of him.

“I got y--reerrr!” Mio didn’t expect the sudden tug, and mewled upon liftoff.

In Klugetown…

“So...he managed to get away, hm? I thought you were stronger than him.”

“My sumbitch of an ex-wife up and decided to up and protect his pussy-ass,” the dragon snarled. His wings had been repaired with bandaging thanks to the few nurses they had remaining at their disposal. “That’s the only reason he was able to escape.”

The boss groaned from behind the chair. The voice carried an air of annoyance and tiredness from the entire situation. “Landsakes--after all of that, now we have to deal with two dingos. As far as Mio is concerned, you can kill him if he shows his face around here again. But we need Remington alive. Understand?”

“Right, right…” Rongu replied with a huff.

Moments later, one of the nurses entered the room with a letter in her hand. “Boss. I just found this. Alade and Topaz have managed to make it to the Wukong territory and are currently negotiating with the monkey folk on procuring stronger ponies from the Neighjing territory.”

“Finally,” the boss replied with a relieved groan, “Something around here going my way for a change. Keep me posted on whatever you may come across. And you, Rongu--keep working those ponies for the Aionite. If we find it, we’ll be able to properly take over this junk-infested wasteland and turn it into a place of splendor that controls the entire South.”

“Not if I take control first.” Rongu thought to himself, and quickly answered. “Not a problem, boss. We’ll have enough to start developing weapons with it before you know it.”

“Hence why we also need Remington alive.” The boss tossed a set of blueprints at the dragon. “Our replicas have been okay so far, but haven’t done us much good. Real Remington weapons have a high standard of stability and control that no other weapon can match…”

Rongu looked them over. The revolvers and rifles all had that iconic ‘R’ insignia but the handles of each weapon were rather pronounced and durable which gave them their signature sense of control. “And we need these because bullets made from Aionite are rather...unstable, yeah?”

“That’s an understatement. From what my scientists have studied, even the smallest amount of Aionite could cause a gun to explode from trying to fire it. But Remington’s weapons...they’re the key. They’re made to handle any type of weaponry. A universal gunsmith, if you catch my drift. Just don’t let your personal problems cloud your judgement on what to do next. You are to keep those workers on their hooves for as long as possible until you strike enough of that material for us to start configuring. Understand?”

Rongu nodded as he turned to leave with his mind still focused elsewhere--only giving a health-hearted answer. “Yeah...I understand.”

“Good. Then my father will finally regret the decision he made regarding how to control Abyssinia…once it’s all mine.”

Back in Panthera…

Spitha took Mio to his hotel room, where he was able to lie down and rest with the medicine on his face. The burn scar on his face started to irritate him which resulted in light fits of hissing from the tom. With his blue suit on a nearby coat rack, and his new glasses on a nightstand next to the bed, he was stuck there lying bare, covered in nothing but his fur.

“Hhhh! Rrrrgh!” he groaned as he lied there. The prescription medicine that Mona had given him was akin to that of a spa’s facial mask once applied, so it would be easy enough to peel off. “Putting a blanket over myself will just make the sensation worse. God this sucks on so many darn levels…”

Moments later, there was a knock at the room door.

“Augh...it’s open…”

Spitha entered, and took a look at him. “How are you feeling, Mio?”

“As if needles are being drilled into my face from all sides while simultaneously sinking into a tar pit…” he muttered with a strained mewl. “I feel like if I were to try and move even a few inches that I would aggravate my entire skin layer.”

The dragoness walked over to get a better look at his face, and noticed the mask treatment that he had applied. “Oh my...I can feel your pain from here…”

“...There’s no need to stay here…” he muttered, “I won’t be much for conversation…”

“I want to make sure you don’t go into shock from the medication,” Spitha explained, “So I’m willing to stay and keep you company if you’d like.”

Given that he was practically helpless right at that moment, Mio was in no position to refuse. After all, the last thing he wanted to do was push her away when she had already been slowly pushed away by someone else for the last five years.

“...I’d appreciate that…if it’s no trouble…”

“None at all,” she said with a smile, and sat on the side of the bed next to him. “Actually, I...managed to find one of my books on sale in a nearby bookstore I saw on the way back. And...I purchased it.” She showed it to him. A paperback book with the thickness of an average light novel. The cover was yellow and in big, bold, black letters, the title read: Awkward Monster Encounters--by Miss Spitha.

“You purchased your own book…?” Mio shifted his eyes over to get a look at the cover. “Why?”

“So I could read it to you!” she chirped, and quickly reigned herself in by clearing her throat. “Ahem--er, i-if that’s okay…”

It would certainly beat staring at the ceiling until he fell asleep. Mio was more than willing to agree. “...I don’t mind at all, Spitha. Go ahead.”

“Oh, goodie!” She quickly opened up the book, and put on a pair of reading glasses, “Now let’s see...aha! Here’s a good one. This book contains loads of short stories that are meant to make you laugh. Such as...ah, here’s a good one!” She began to read from the book, “‘A pony walks into a bar and sits down next to a griffon. He orders the highest-proof alcohol they have and the griffon challenges him to a contest. The pony agrees, and they drink and drink until finally, the pony’s head falls off!’”

Mio’s eyes shot open when he heard the last line. “W-what?! I thought you said--”

“Hang on, I’m almost at the good part--” she interrupted him and continued, “‘The griffon freaks out, but the pony simply chuckles and laughs it off. Why? He’s a dullahorse!’ You know, a pony that can freely detach its head from its body?”

It was very corny--to the point where Mio couldn’t help but laugh. “Haha! I get it. That would freak anyone out.”

“Right? That’s what makes it funny!” Spitha giggled, and flipped the page. “...Want me to read you another?”

“...I’d like that, yes.”