Skott's single sentence plunged the scene back into silence.
Ignoring the strange looks from those around him, he continued muttering to himself, "…I'm just too unlucky, absolutely cursed. Getting sent to a dump like this is bad enough, but running into trash like you?"
"They say Penacony is the star of festivities, that most dreamweavers here are either rich or noble. But when I got here, I found out there are plenty of deadbeats living on loans. I thought two hundred credits would sell out fast, but… hmph!"
"I'm just too pathetic. I'm a lone wolf, yet I have to deal with lowlifes like you… Damn it, this world is so unfair!"
…
"Company dog, what did you just say?"
"Hmph, a stinking wage slave who doesn't even look in the mirror, using a cheap phone and drinking discount SoulGlad. If the Penacony Grand Theater saw you, they'd turn you into a defense turret and elbow you!"
"Filthy outsider, coming to Penacony to beg!"
"…!"
Stelle hadn't expected that after switching his emotion to "Sadness," this guy would still manage to dig his own grave. Now, not only was Acheron ready to draw her sword, but even the surrounding onlookers were rolling up their sleeves, ready to jump in during the chaos.
Seeing this, Stelle hurriedly activated the Clock Trick again—
"Turn the tide! Clock Trick, activate!"
This time, Stelle switched Skott's emotion to the last of the four options—Anger.
By the failsafe mechanism, this emotion should be the correct choice to clear the situation, though Stelle couldn't for the life of her figure out how this emotion would lead to a resolution.
As Stelle activated the Clock Trick, Skott's expression froze, then his face twisted, his body trembling with mounting rage…
"Argh! Arghhh!"
A howl, somewhere between a wolf and a dog, erupted suddenly, startling everyone—including Acheron—who was about to beat Skott up, causing them to pause in unison.
"Rooar!"
Skott, in his fury, dropped to the ground. His extreme anger left him unable to form a complete sentence, the fire in his chest only barely vented through roars.
No… Skott felt even roaring couldn't fully release the rage in his heart—Destruction! He wanted to destroy everything around him!
How many of these rabble were truly stronger than him? They were just born into better circumstances, had better luck with lotteries, or had more family connections.
Did they really think standing in Penacony gave them the right to look down on Skott?!
Foolish! Naive!
Today, he'd show them with action that he, the unrecognized lone wolf, wasn't someone just anyone could mess with!
"Arghhh!"
Skott scrambled on all fours, lunging at Acheron's long legs with a roar. Caught off guard by this "attack," Acheron instinctively stepped back to dodge.
"Rooar—(Don't run!)"
Skott crawled at breakneck speed, his gaze locked onto Acheron's pale legs. The onlookers parted in terror, afraid of being targeted by this maniac.
But Acheron's strength was undeniable. Whether this version of her was still an Emanator-level powerhouse or not, her ability to command the Annihilation Gang's respect spoke volumes.
No matter how fast Skott scrambled, he couldn't even graze a hair on Acheron.
Though, admittedly, Acheron looked a bit flustered while dodging.
"Huff—huff—"
After a fruitless chase, Skott panted heavily, his wolf-like gaze sweeping the crowd. If he couldn't bite her, he'd bite someone he could reach!
None of these people were innocent anyway!
"Arghhh!"
Skott zeroed in on a Pepeshi person, cackling maniacally as he chased them. The unlucky Pepeshi cursed, "What the—?!" and bolted.
The crowd watched the two figures disappear into the distance, falling into a collective silence.
…
"Tick-tock! Gray-haired friend, your use of the Clock Trick was absolutely perfect!"
With the situation resolved, Clockie Daddy jumped three meters high in excitement, giving Stelle a thumbs-up. "You're awesome!"
Stelle: Uh, hehe.
"Micah! You're okay, that's so great, tick-tock!"
Clockie Daddy ran to Micah, thrilled, and asked, "So, is your salary safe?"
Micah nodded slowly, their voice calm and deliberate (like a certain two-word game's little zombie or a blindfolded red-haired loli from Onfalous). "Thank you, Daddy. The outcome was a bit unexpected, but I think this counts as 'avoiding conflict between esteemed guests,' so it should be fine."
"Tick-tock! That's awesome!"
Micah tilted their head, looking at Stelle and Firefly approaching. "Also… thank you, Miss Stelle."
Stelle asked in surprise, "You know me?"
Micah nodded slowly. "Yes… Mikhail told 'us' about you."
Stelle: …
"Um… sorry to interrupt, but can you both see that 'Clockie Daddy'?"
Firefly suddenly joined the conversation, asking timidly.
Hearing this, Stelle glanced at Firefly. Logically, at this point, Micah should be… Never mind, logic? [Order] has already fallen, so what logic is there to follow?
Micah: "Yes… for some reason, only certain people can see it."
Firefly suddenly recalled Stelle's earlier comment about "honest, pure, and childlike" people. Her cheeks puffed out unconsciously—was she really not like that?
Honest… Hadn't she been straightforward enough with her precious Stelle? Or did she have to wait for the main event later to prove it?
Pure… How was she not pure? Setting aside her usual demeanor, when Stelle was around, she was always an obedient good girl!
Childlike… She had that too, didn't she? If it was for Stelle, she'd even willingly call her "Mommy."
In conclusion, Firefly reached one verdict: Hmph, it's definitely not my fault. It's this Clockie Daddy spouting nonsense!
"Phew—that whole thing just now, was that your doing?"
A calm voice interrupted. Acheron slowly approached, her amethyst eyes fixed on Stelle. "That speed of emotional shifts was faster than the XX Hero in a certain four-word game."
Stelle smiled awkwardly. "I saw you surrounded by company folks and took matters into my own hands."
"…Heh."
Acheron suddenly laughed. She walked up to Stelle, abruptly threw an arm around her neck, and let out a hearty laugh. "Good sister! Nice one! You helped me avoid a conflict, so I owe you one. If you ever need anything, just call me."
"I was about to teach that guy a lesson, but I don't hold back. Too light, and it's not satisfying; too heavy, and they don't even feel it… Thanks to you, haha!"
Stelle, held like a ragdoll in Acheron's grip, had a dazed look in her eyes: ?