“I can’t believe I just did that. I can’t believe… Hah! I must have gone insane, and I’ve only died once so far.” Kyle laughed at himself as he ran. It had been a spur of the moment decision, but the last thing he wanted to do now was be the target of people’s aggression or prejudice all because they thought was or wasn’t from one nation or another, or because he was dressed as a butler. At least now, it was because he’d stood up for himself.

He had the plastic bag carrying his figurine in a tight grip, making sure it didn’t jostle and swing about as he ran. He turned around the first corner he found, but based on the shouts he heard not too far in the distance, the Mad Hatters were clearly not about to give up the chase just yet.

The streets of the Industrial District were very different compared to the ones with shops he’d been walking along during his first loop. They were a bit narrower, and much more filthy; litter and trash lined parts of the sidewalk, from random papers to cardboard boxes and empty glass bottles. There were very few shops open for business, and most of the larger structures all around seemed to be factories or warehouses for manufacturing stuff.

What they might be making exactly, Kyle couldn’t imagine. But the whirring of machinery, smell of oil, and stacks of smoke billowing into the air made it feel as though he’d been sent back to the industrial era itself, rather than a whole other world. Alas, there was no time to take any photos or to absorb the drab scenery; glancing over his shoulder, he saw Biggs and Ryas rounding the corner onto the street he was on.

He didn’t see Pete, but he wasn’t counting on the backpack to have done enough damage to keep him out of the chase. He kicked his legs into overdrive, attempting to take longer strides and keep the distance between him and his pursuers. Unfortunately, his butler cosplay he was still in wasn’t designed for swift or active movement, and he could feel the fabric holding him back. He was already beginning to sweat too, in part due to being exposed to the sun for so long. He cursed the gang members for drinking the water he’d left in his bag before returning to focus on his running.

Surely they can’t keep the chase forever. Maybe if I can make it back to the park or a more public place, they’ll give up? That’s when Kyle realized: he hadn’t been keeping track of the directions he’d taken to get here. It had only been a few streets, but in the sudden turn of events, he’d likewise gotten turned around and now had no idea how to get back. “Well, I can guess where it is. But if I have no idea where I’m going, then neither can they!” 

At the end of the street, Kyle barely gave a glance before sprinting diagonally through the intersection. He heard a vehicle blare its horn, and silently thanked it for pausing in the middle of the street, turning into a minor obstacle to block the gang members still after him. He quickly turned right, continuing down the left-hand side of the next street and being mindful to not run into the few pedestrians he passed. “Excuse me, coming through! Got some gang assholes on my six!”

A few people shouted at him as he went, but he paid them no heed. He reached the end of the street once more, and crossed to the right side while glancing back. Ryas seemed to be falling behind, but Biggs was about as far away as he had been on the last street. Oh of course, the last one I want to deal with is proving to be the biggest pain!

When he reached the end of the large building that was sitting on the corner he’d just rounded, Kyle caught sight of a wide but dark alleyway. There was a truck with a large, empty flatbed backed into it and hugging the building on the right, along with a multitude of cardboard boxes and wooden crates waiting to be loaded nearby. The ladder to a fire escape was locked off, and a door to the next building was boarded up with planks.

Making sure his pursuers hadn’t caught up to see him, he hurried to the back of the truck and hopped aboard the bed, throwing himself under the tarp that had been left behind. There, he closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing while holding the bag and figurine box close to him.He heard heavy footsteps rapidly approaching and held his breath, letting it out only a few moments after the noise had gone.

He sighed a relief as one of the dangers had passed. Now to wait for the other two…

A minute later, he heard someone else arrive, mumbling under their breath.

“That blasted oaf is just running aimlessly by now, I’m sure.” There was a pause in the footsteps before they started getting louder. It was Ryas, Kyle knew, and he held his breath once more. There was the sound of cardboard being tossed around, and the clattering of wooden boxes being thrown down the alley. “Damnit! Where’d that brat get off to?”

A few moments later, his footsteps began to pick up and fade away, and Kyle let out the air he’d been holding in for nearly too long. He waited a bit longer, waiting to see if Pete might come running by as well.

Nothing.

Did I lose him first then? Weird, he seemed to be the leader of their bunch too.

Pulling the tarp off of himself, Kyle quickly hopped off the side of the truck and moved to crouch behind the boxes that hadn’t been removed or destroyed. Peering from around the alley corner, he checked for any sign of his pursuers or anyone who might be their friend.

“What’s the matter Mr. Butler? Looking for someone?”

Kyle jumped and spun around, barely holding in a shout. He found Pete leaning against the back end of the truck, clearly waiting for him. “How did you find me?”

“Oh, that was easy. Ya stole something o’mine,” Pete replied, smirking.

“You mean my bag, here?” Kyle asked, waving the anime figurine in the air.

“No, I mean my bag there. See, you gave it to me, remember? So it was mine. When ya took it from me, it was marked and I was able to track it down, no problemo.”

“And I take it you aren’t referring to any special gadget or device that helped you with that, huh?”

Pete shook his head. “Course not! I wouldn’t be a Queen of Hearts if I had to rely on something like that. Although, it would be pretty nifty, but then I wouldn’t need my Gift, now would I?” The thug began walking up to Kyle slowly once more, his hands in his coat pockets and an arrogant smirk on his face. 

“I take it you don’t just want this bag back anymore, do you?”

“I’ll be taking it back, o’course. Just that won’t be all.” Pete paused to stroke his mustache for a moment. “I’m sure ya spent all your pocket money on that stimmy ya took earlier, yeah? How ‘bout I take it off ya hands, and then I’ll give ya another head start before I chase you down and beat ya arse for real.”

“What, the medicine? Like hell!” Kyle said, glancing backwards. He could try to turn and run now, but it’d be impossible to lose Pete regardless of if he dropped his bag now. I’m not too winded from that sprint, but if I’ve got no idea where I can run to hide or lose him, then I can only hope this’ll be enough to deter him from keeping chase…

Kyle slowly set the bag on the ground, and reached for his belt. Throwing the jacket flap out of the way, he pulled out the replica knife he’d bought at the anime convention. “I don’t wanna have to pick a fight with you,” Kyle said in a lowered voice.

He held out the knife pointed towards Pete, widening his stance with one foot in front of the other and attempting to wear a confident expression. It had only been for six weeks, but Kyle called on the minor fencing experience he’d had back in middle school to guide him. He was a total novice, of course, but he didn’t know how else to position himself with a bladed weapon. This’ll have to do.

“Heh, ahah, ahahaha!” Pete doubled over laughing. “Y-ya, ya really–? Ahaha!”

Kyle furrowed his brows and looked at his knife. Sure it was more decorative than a regular weapon, and the edge was dulled, but Pete couldn’t possibly know that.

“Oh my oh my, boyo,” Pete said, wiping away a tear. “Ya never held a weapon before in ya life, huh?” He casually reached around the back of his belt and pulled out a knife of his own. It was smaller than Kyle’s by a couple inches, but it had an edge that would most definitely cut. Pete held his weapon in a reverse grip, the blade covering a few inches of his right arm as he held it up, ready to fight. “Ya may not be interested, but I would love to go one on one with ya right now. How ‘bout it? I’ll even let ya make the first move!” He gestured with his free hand for Kyle, taking only one step closer.

Shit, shit, shit!

Kyle gulped as he saw the gleam of Pete’s blade. It didn’t matter if his own weapon was a little bigger if he didn’t know how to use it, nor if it wouldn’t actually do any damage in a fight. If he was lucky, landing a stab might end things immediately, but that was only if he could land a clean hit on Pete before taking any himself. “Well… can’t be helped then,” he said with a sigh, putting the knife back in its sheath.

“Aw, givin up already?” Pete asked, smiling as he lowered his knife.

“Giving up on the idea of actually fighting you fairly? Sure.” With practiced ease, Kyle swiftly unholstered his airsoft pistol and brought it to an even level, planting his left foot in front as he aimed towards Pete’s chest. Even with the silk gloves on, the familiarity of holding the toy weapon in both hands was comforting to him, and he took a deep breath to ease his nerves a bit. This’ll do it. Even if he knows how to hold a knife, there’s no way he’s crazy enough to bring a blade to a gunfight.

As expected, the smirk on Pete’s face disappeared as he took a step back. “Are ya serious right now?” he asked. His nerves had clearly taken a hit now that he was looking at the barrel-end of a gun, and Kyle wondered if he was imagining the shaking in Pete’s legs. “Ya were packing an iron in ya belt this whole time? What gives!”

“Turn and run.” Kyle said, flicking the gun in a shoeing motion. “I’ll say it again: I don’t wanna have to fight you. But I need these meds, and that box is mine. Now go!”

Pete glared daggers at Kyle for a few moments, but Kyle made sure not to waiver his aim. He held the play-firearm steady, praying he wouldn’t have to give away that it couldn’t do more than sting a little.

But just as he thought Pete might turn and run–

“You disappoint me, Pete,” a call echoed through the alley.

Pete jumped, looking behind himself. Kyle jolted and did the same, making sure to not let his aim stray from its target as he searched for the owner of the voice. A clattering came from above them, and they looked up in unison to see someone sitting on the edge of the fire escape, a few stories up.

They slowly slipped themselves forward, falling down to the next level of the metal staircase. They caught the railing with their feet, bending their knees and projecting themselves forward. They landed on the roof of the truck to Kyle's right with a metallic thud before pulling off a backwards flip. The new arrival landed straight up, facing the truck, and turned to glare at Kyle. He was holding a purple tophat in his right hand, and from where Kyle stood, he could clearly see a 10 of Spades sitting along the rim.

Kyle retrained his mock weapon on the man as he remembered a warning Selena had given him about the Mad Hatters: “If you ever see one with a spade, you run your ass off! Even I don’t want to pick a fight with those guys.”

He let out a sigh as the realization of the situation hit him. It just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?

“Damnit Kristoff!” Pete shouted, kicking one of the truck’s tires. “I had him right where I wanted him!”

“Where you wanted him?” the man named Kristoff repeated in disbelief, not taking his eyes off Kyle. “About to scare you off all because he pointed a gun at you?”

“As if I was really gonna let him get away!”

“Oh yes, just like how you haven’t let all your other marks get away, right?,” Kristoff said, meeting Kyle’s gaze directly for a few moments.

This guy… I can already tell, he’s a real menace; I’m totally screwed!