Sylvester Sweet watched the crowd before him once again erupt into a frenzy of fighting. Most of them chased after the lone figure that, for some reason or another, had been targeted by the tell group of hunters in the back. The auction house was thrown into a fight once again, this time with a bit more organization, as everyone could actually tell who the other was. Towards the back of the room were tied the marine squadron, furiously trying to break from the rope which bound them. Knowing they had the capacity to quell some of this disorder, Sylvester made his way across the crowd, maneuvering around and between confrontations to finally reach them.

The cowboy knelt down by his own rope, delicately untying the bindings. 

“Don’t think this earns you any favors cowboy criminal!” the petty officer from before shouted. “We’re not about to forget that you’re the one who tried to get us interrogated!”

Sylvester couldn’t help but smirk at that threat. “Don’t you worry, Mr. Link,” he said, startling the young marine with the name, “I’m only asking that you all do your job.” The law enforcement freed, he reeled back his rope, stepping out of their way. Yet, the marine captain stood eye to eye with Sylvester, staring him down. 

“Just remembering your face, stranger,” the marine captain said before walking away to begin his job within Pumpkin Sabbath. “I never forget a face!” Despite that statement sounding like a threat, the marine stepped into the fray with his cutlass drawn, already beginning to fight, and completely ignoring Sylvester himself. And, with the marines attempting to put down the auction, Sylvester was free to pursue the figure that had revitalized the battle in the auction house, and figure out just why that had happened. 

He ran towards the door only to find a wide group of armed men and women plugging up the passage. Standing above the ranks was a tall man with dark hair drooping down towards the point of his nose, other locks of hair flowing past his ears like a pointed cap. He wore a rippled, white coat that seemed quite large on his lanky frame and surveyed Sylvester with an eyebrow raised into his haircut. 

“Oh,” Kong said, taking passive note of the cowboy. “It’s the little cowboy who would be chief.”

Klinghoffer wanted willow to sink a boat? All on his own? Just how the hell did he expect him to do that kind of thing? Willow rubbed the back of his head, eyes still shut while he tried to think of what to do as he stood on the boat now. "Okay bye! See you later!" Willow said cheerfully and waved as Klinghoffer ran back into the auction house. Now he had no idea about the various individuals that Klinghoffer would be encountering, so much would be happening, and it was all kind of stemming from being Willow's fault.

As he was prepared to start looking for something to set the ship ablaze, five figures jumped up on the boat, each of them about six feet tall, all wielding sledge hammers for weapons. All wearing stocky lead-lined aprons as if it were in their uniform. Great, it just had to be some of the smiths of Yulkan come his way. But at least he could try and use them for his own purposes. They were all prepared for a fight, talking about how they had found the traitor, among themselves discussing who would be going in first.

Willow just drew Shepherd and prepared to get into a fight, twirling the staff about as he got ready for the fight. These guys all had a strong swing, and weapons designed for forging steel, or wrecking stuff. That meant that he had to be prepared to avoid every attack. Just as his closed eyes started to open, the voice from within his headphones would feintly speak again. It was hard to make out, but some of the words could be heard distinctly. "Focus...guide...avoid...hurt" Again that voice was trustworthy, but it was coming out of his headphones. Did this have something to do with his powers?

Speaking of powers, he was unknowingly leaking ghosts out around himself, hollows floating up into the air and causing a ruckus. As he took notice of them, WIllow's headphones yelled at him to duck, apparently one of the fighters he was against didn't like the sight of ghosts! Willow ducked just as the sledgehammer was swung overhead, striking into the main sail mast of the ship, and being yanked out, pulling wood chips out as WIllow started to back away, readying his staff while the creaking and groaning of the ship mask rang out.

Two more warriors jumped forth while Willow waited for the last second to jump backwards as their sledgehammers crashed through the floor of the ship and they went through it together, creating a nice above average sized human hole! Wow. That was something, and Willow was crouched down, a hand held up to his brow to see if he could see them. And then for the people that were still up on the floor, they were breaking through the felled mast of the ship. While all of this was happening and the ship was being brought down, a tall ten foot figure was slowly strolling toward the ship where the fight was taking place on.

"Charming as you may be, I'm not gonna be the one dying tonight so politely shut your pretty boy mouth before I smash it shut for good" Nisha said, beginning the fight. Her attack was fierce, Nisha lead with her right hand using a closed fist strike aimed at Klinghoffer's neck, to counter, the musician held his guitar up as protection, absorbing the strike and hopefully confusing his opponent. Nisha made a confused and surprised face when she came to the realisation of what happened, the guitar made an awful sound in reaction to the strike, this was however cancelled out by Klinghoffer's fancy finger-work. He played a Double Stop Destruction point blank at Nisha, knocking her back a few meters, staggering her footing, strange that the same move worked twice on two different people. Using this as an opportunity to gain a more solid defence than his vintage guitar, he took a few steps back and picked up a metal pipe off of the floor, slinging his guitar onto his back and wielding his makeshift weapon instead. Nisha regained her footing and rushed at him one more time, instead, taking the lower body route.

She led with a pair of consecutive kicks to the head, both barely blocked by Six Barrel's master musician, it was obvious that at this point in his life, fighting with poles wasn't really his thing. Nisha continued her barrage with a leg sweep, Klinghoffer jumping over it and leaving himself open, she used this to her advantage and aimed another kick up acting as a lower body uppercut of some sort. The musician wasn't ready for such a move, he took a heavy kick to the chest, pushing him back and down onto the floor at the height that his opponent was currently at, but her attack wasn't done yet. Nisha followed the lower body uppercut up with an axe kick that was directly on course to smashing Klinghoffer's ribcage, instinctively, the musician rolled out of the way and got back up onto his feet once more, resuming the defensive position. "Come on, are you sure we can't resolve this over a-" every time he tried to speak he was interrupted by a punch to the face, "Oh that was just a cheap sho-" he tried to say once more, taking another punch to the face. Shrugging it off and spitting out a small amount of blood from his mouth, he switched his stance to a more offensive take, Oh you've done it now, I'll make sure to visit when you get hospitalised."

Sylvester Sweet stood his ground perfectly still against the tall man and his subordinates when a voice rang out from behind him. “It’s the man who was speaking with Ms. Dufort!” the low-pitched, feminine voice called out. Sylvester didn’t move, but turned his head to recognize the woman leading five other fighters following in her wake. “We help him out, and we’ll get rewarded, no question!” she continued. It seemed Aya Vrolling, the revolutionary commander worth 9,500,000 beli, was still under the impression that the cowboy was part of Pumpkin Sabbath’s staff, and he wasn’t about to correct them. 

Aya Vrolling swung upon her short jacket to deliver two throwing knives through the air and towards the absurdly tall obstacle in Sylvester’s path. Before either weapon could find their target, however, they disappeared from the sky with a pair of sounds like discordant bells. Aya took formation in front of Sylvester, with her five subordinates creating an arrow formation in front of Sylvester. “Those daggers work much better as a sneak attack,” the tall man said plainly, “if you scream before you throw them they’re not nearly as effective.” His fingers rubbed at his bare chin, thinking for a moment, “In fact, you might even be better served by changing the trajectory of your throws when you use more than one, otherwise they’re quite simple to deflect.”

The revolutionary was more confused than intimidated by the man offering tips in the middle of battle. She physically shook off the feeling, and reset her stance, now whispering to her party and to Sylvester himself. “We’ll take care of these weirdos, no question, while you secure the inventory and Dufort’s safety,” she said, never taking her eyes off of the tall stranger. “That woman is a friend to the revolutionaries, no question, and I couldn’t stand to know she’s been hurt.”

Coming into a foggy understanding of the woman’s motivations, Sylvester placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, trying to calm Aya. “Don’t you worry,” he responded, “I’ll keep her safe and sound. Neither Ms. Dufort or myself will forget what the revolutionaries have done here,” he promised, patting the woman. “I ask all of you,” he turned his attention to the revolutionary soldiers now, “to please, support your leader with your lives! Get through this line! For the revolution!” He was no longer whispering by the time he said that, but just about wanted to gag on the words. But, it was all the more reason to pin his current obstacles against the rebels. It’d be a clean and efficient way to knock out one problem or the other. 

With his hollow words of inspiration, the revolutionaries were more than excited to defend Sylvester Sweet with their lives, and pushed forward their formation in order to tow the cowboy along. “Unfortunately,” the tall man started again, seemingly unconcerned about the approaching enemies, “Kong Y. Glaive was instructed not to let anyone through,” he explained, jerking a thumb at his own long face. “And so, I won’t be letting anyone through.”

“Twin Crescent Cutters!”

“Urchin Boulevard.”

Aya Vrolling threw out two more knives, which traveled in perfect arcs towards Kong, but were intercepted by two subordinates and their massive iron hammers. They struck down the projectiles with a satisfied swing, cancelling the attack. The moment after Sylvester saw the happen, his formation had disappeared around him. He was alone in his charge, and looked back to try and find his revolutionaries, to find all six pinned to the ground, arrows and bolts having sprouted from their body. 

“Your formation was too tight, Mr. Would-Be Chief,” Kong Y. Glaive explained, “now you’re just easy pickings.”

As Willow was bounding about on the boat, that ten foot figure continued to approach. In the short time that the other fights were starting to happen, Willow was working his feet and body in overtime. He was in a frenzied state, and who wouldn't be? Swing after swing was happening! Those smiths sure knew how to fight like a unit. Must have been all of those days hammering away at the same tool in alternating moments. A solid THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP could be hear along with pieces of wood being flung about. Willow was ducking, weaving, and leaping over the five warriors, as the two from below managed to find their way back up to the deck.

It seemed that Willow was holding his own, but he was not attacking. Was he trying to tire these men out? Johannes waited and watched, interested in just what was going to happen with all of this being done. The first smith got into action, running at full speed toward Willow as he pivoted about and brought that hammer upwards, aiming for Willow's skull. The voice in those headphones shouting at Willow to duck, which he did and rolled backwards as another of the masts was brought down from the hammer cleaving straight through it.

The first smith was caught up in the fabric of the sail, working on trying to lift the heavy thing off of himself along with his already heavy uniform! The second and third smiths were up next. They seemed to favor attacking in unison. The second smith launched the third one, only for the second to slide along the ground toward Willow and aim that hammer for Willow's ankles as he was crouched down. The third smith was coming down as Willow was tripped up and slammed his back on the ground. As that hammer was brought down, Willow rolled out of the way of it just in time, though the debris of wood being shattered all around him was enough to cut up his face and side.

The fourth smith was getting fed up! She was stomping her foot on a deck with so many holes in it already and two masts crashed down, the upper parts of the masts having been broken and floating on the water's surface. As she was stomping and shouting at the others to get to work and take out Willow, her stomping only sent her straight through the deck along with the fifth smith that could only take the time to call her a bitch. Crashing through like that, along with a good chunk of the deck with them, their size and lead lined aprons, they broke straight through the keel of the ship.

Willow smirked to himself as he was up on his feet, dusting himself off while the various smiths were working on freeing their hammers or bodies, minus the two that were having trouble swimming thanks to the heavy aprons and weapons. The second smith was standing up though, and threw their sledgehammer like a javelin! A javelin that thudded straight into Willow's gut, and sent him off of the shit, only to land back down on the ground while spittle flew out of his mouth, nearly loosing his lunch from the sudden force as his eyes went wide from the pain.

The ship was sinking and breaking apart while Willow tried to pull off that hammer in his winded state. Someone lifted the hammer off of him with ease. "Thanks--I needed tha--Oh you have got to be kidding me." There was no point in hiding his true nature in front of these people, they knew Willow well, and when his purple eyes looked up at the hazel eyes of Johannes, the two were sharing a glare of sheer hatred for one another.

"Johannes Yulkan Kite, third best fighter of the Yulkan tribe. How's business? Sinking at the moment?"

"First: You are Willow Ooala Omens, scrappy ruffian of the Ooala tribe, derelict of your duties and guilty of destruction of our property. Second: I have no time for your snide remarks," He said while swiftly swinging his leg at Willow who was on the ground and kicked the orange haired lad up into the air only to be kicked a second time and sent straight back onto that boat that was slowly sinking. Willow's body crashed into the second smith, knocking them out as if they were collateral in this matter. The ten foot tall Johannes too concerned with detaining Willow to care.

As Johannes stepped up onto the boat he showed a weapon that was terrifying compared to the sledgehammers of the smiths. He was wielding that ancient hammer that was on sale earlier. It was brass in color, the handle coiled around with a fine spiral groove going from head to pommel. The head itself was a solid block that ended in a circular hammer head on one end, and a curved bird-beak like pick on the other. The hammer came up to his shoulder, a weapon surely fit for a giant man like Johannes.

"Third--you are now cursed by the sea as well as your people. You will fight on this boat, then you will lose and sink to the depths. Your grave is here."

"As much as I like the sound of that, this place doesn't really scream grave." Willow said between coughs while slowly standing up, Johannes was a fair fighter, someone who preferred single solid blows with his tank like body. Willow was someone that preferred movement and a number of blows. They were clearly different from one another, in philosophy, height, fighting style. Willow versus Johannes starts now!

Willow tried to use Summer Solstice to leap off of the boat, but Johannes lifted that hammer like a cross-bar and caught Willow's body, swinging him straight back down onto the deck of the boat, cracking through the deck and into the hull, nearly landing in the water that was starting to pool into the boat. This was going to be a hard fight for Willow for sure.

"You've done it now, I tried to be nice" Klinghoffer says taking the offensive, strikes down with his improvised weapon with consecutive swings then moving on to defence. The fight went on in a back an forth manner, first Klinghoffer would strike, then followed up Nisha, this cycle would repeat for a long time, with Nisha gaining the upper hand with every move made. Nisha charged at the musician, knocking him down on the floor with her on it, "Ummm awkward, I thought you didn't like me like that huh?" he said, pushing her off and rolling away, standing up a few meters away from her. "Oh honey, I'm hooooome!" the musician said, charging at her with his arms open for a hug, Nisha was confused on if he genuinely was going in for a hug or if this was another one of his schemes. Choosing the latter, Nisha let off a round of multiple spinning crescent moon kicks, knocking Klinghoffer down onto the floor visibly bruised and beaten up as he laid there on the ground. He spat out blood, and began to roll, avoiding Nisha's constant axe kicks in her impatient attempt to finish her dashing opponent off.

"All good things come to those who wait my sweet...Nancy? .....Naomi? ....Natasha? No... Nicole? ....Aha! Nisha is your name" Klinghoffer said as he stood up, pointing his metal pipe at Nisha's face. "H-How did you know that? I didn't tell you my name?" She asked in complete confusion, "It's on your nametag, see?" the musician said as he pointed down slightly upward at her chest. "Really? she asked, looking down at the absence of a name tag. At that moment of realisation, Klinghoffer wound up his metal pipe and swung it up straight into her jaw, lifting her slightly off of the ground, now was the time for Klinghoffer's all-star improvisation moment.

Stardust Standard!

Klinghoffer starts unleashing a barrage of bludgeoning attacks with the metal pipe, smacking Nisha and hitting her time after time. "ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA!!!" the musician yelled with each hit that he swung with the pipe. By the time the barrage finished she was sent flying, skidding across the floor and stopped against the wall, Klinghoffer stood there and struck a pose, his open hand covering the smug look on his face. He looked around triumphantly, but something was off, maybe the fight wasn't fully over yet.

“Unfortunately,” Kong Y. Glaive said, “my combat has its own weaknesses,” the tall man revealed, and opened his coat. Lining his jacket were a plethora of crossbows, each one empty of its ammunition, and their strings loose. Sylvester quickly appraised the weapons before looking at the revolutionaries and putting the facts together. “Cover me,” Kong ordered his subordinates, “I must reload.” And that order was all that was required for his ten subordinates to spring into action, breaking formation and charging towards Sylvester.

In an instant, Sylvester was on the backfoot, retreating away from the all-out assault. The moment he dodged the swing of one hammer, another came through from a different direction, each pushing him somewhere new. One deadly arc came for his temple, he weaved to his left to find another hammer headed for his kneecap, and he pivoted around it only to come into the path of a third hammer that landed straight into his sternum, flinging Sylvester back even further. He had come into a golden opportunity to attack the obstacle in his path, but was instead being kept away from the target.
 
Standing up from the hammer attack, he felt his chest heave and shudder, like his skeleton was about to cave in just from the force of breathing. He needed to turn this fight around immediately. The cowboy leveled his gun, Trust, at the approaching fighters, firing three rounds into the crowd. Every one of them only rang off their heavy aprons, causing little more than a momentary flinch in their charge. Half his ammunition was gone and he hadn’t made a dent. But, with the sound of those bouncing bullets, he’d realized the real flaw in these fighters, and more importantly, in Kong’s commands. 

Sylvester turned back to the auction house to see exactly what he’d hoped for. The marines he’d released were surprisingly holding their own. And, when criminals of all walks of life saw the law enforcement back on their feet, it had unified them, giving the fight two clear and clean sides, with the auction’s customers forming a large ring around the defending marines squadron. Though his breathing was quite labored, Sylvester’s speed still allowed him to keep ahead of the weighted subordinates, leading them in a train towards the two rings of conflict. 

“Oh! Dust Commander!”

In a column of dust and pebbles, the cowboy had disappeared from the subordinates’ sight. Assuming the cowboy was hiding amongst the criminals, the hammer-wielding party burst right into the outer ring, which of course led them to think they were fighting with the marines. They’d found another enemy, and were happy to fight against them before diving onto the marines. 

Kong Y. Glaive’s command was meant to stop everyone from exiting the auction house for whatever reason. But, it seemed the man was completely oblivious to the very way Sylvester had entered in from. Finding the hole in the wall where he’d entered Pumpkin Sabbath, Sylvester made his exit, running back down the dark tunnel. Looking towards its entrance into the night air, he saw it clear of people this time, there was only the faint outline of a small ship illuminated by the moon and stars.

Willow had it cut out for him, he was getting beat and battered, but he had time to consider his actions. There was one thing that Johannes wasn't good at, something that Willow recalled from the past. This guy didn't have what it took to deliver blow after blow, he relied on single destructive blows while contemplating on his next move. Nor did he make the first move. So Willow had to approach this from a tactical standpoint.

He wasn't the smartest, but he wasn't someone that went in without a plan nor was he a muscle head by any standards. So he simply had to think, but he didn't have much time to think with the boat slowly taking on more water. And the more the hull started to take on water, the greater the risk of the pressure cracking open that hole larger and sinking it faster. Johannes knew that he was with the powers of a devil fruit. Johannes knew that he couldn't swim now and that keeping him on the boat was one way to be done with him.

Johannes just stood there, tightening and loosening his grip on the strange grooves in his new hammer's handle. Willow was just staring him down, running scenario after scenario in his head. This was Willow's true nature, someone who could read what people were like, someone who could understand somewhat of what another person was going to do combat wise by staring them dead in the eyes.

In the first scenario he could run and try to juke around the guy by using Summer Solstice, but that would leave him airborne and he would likely get sweep kicked in the stomach and sent into the water directly after striking the wall on the other end of the underground canal, or straight through the deck of the ship and into the water to incapacitated. Scenario one was a no go in his mind. Scenario two would be trying to use a direct confrontation and clashing with Johannes directly before he could use the resistance of two forces against each other as a fulcrum to use his weapon as a lever and launch himself straight over the gargantuan man. But in that scenario Johannes could just as easily grab Willow with his free hand and throw him back down for a good old hammer smashing.

It went on like this, his mind rushing to think of something and only getting frustrated. This all spanned about thirty seconds and neither fighter made a move except for Willow standing up on the deck now and getting ready to make his move.

"First: You may take all of the time you wish to attack. Second: I will not be making any attacks on someone who is bound for death no matter what course of action they take. Third: By the time you have a strategy in mind, you will be on the bottom of the ocean flo--WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" He barked at Willow suddenly, cartoon graphics in effect as his eyes were all white and jaw lined with jagged teeth and triangular in shape as a reaction to what Willow was doing.

What was Willow doing? Well he turned around and booked it for the life boat! When he got to it, he swung Shepherd with all of his might, at the behest of the voice coming out of the headset, "Life boat...quick!" It seemed that whoever was talking to himw as on his side. Now he was playing gondola operator as the boat let loose from the ropes holding it to the main body and leapt off into it to start using the paddles like a motor.

Just like when he runs away in a powerful sprint, Willow's eyes were bulged out and mouth hanging open as he was shouting incoherent noises as those paddles dug through the water and cast up the foam just like a motorized vessel! A zig-zag in the water was made as he went along with a wide sweep around from the side of the boat back onto land with the thanks of the tunnel opening being so large. Once he was back on land, he gave it a swift kiss and got to his feet to run further inland while Johannes just grimaced with a twitch above one eye and a twitch under the other.

"First: You make a mockery of our way of life. Second: You destroy an entire section of a town just for your own selfish reasons. Third: You can't even fight like a man!? You are not worth all of this, but for the sake of the Lhao Zhuu, I will squash you and bring back whatever paste remains!"

Willow turned around, running backwards in a light jog as Johannes leapt off of the boat and came crashing down, bringing that hammer with him as the stones of the walkway flew, sending Willow further inland, riding on one of the rocks.

"Thank you! I appreciate it! Also, kindly screw off! You're bugging me." Was this a plan? Or was this just to be a twat? Either way, Johannes was getting angry and rushing in after Willow as the stone came to the ground. He was fast, and Willow hadn't accounted for that. When the hammer swung around and struck that stone while it was airborne, Willow was sent flying back into the main auction area, where the stone would hit the ground, and Willow would slam into the wall, after tumbling through several still standing members of the auction. Everyone was down save for the main players in the fight.

As Willow started to help himself up and cough and sputter out blood, he glared at the sight of the silhouette of Johannes coming into view, "Crap--Should have thought his muscles could back up movement like that." He needed a moment to relax, thankfully Johannes didn't put a lot of effort into running when he wanted to make his actions to have a much larger impact, as if every step had meaning to the poetic justice of his actions, what a drama queen, Willow thought.

Klinghoffer was now the only pirate in the room, he looked over at his unconscious opponent, then over at his surroundings. The room was filled with revolutionaries and goons of Johannes, the musician tugs at his collar like the air was getting thin in the area, "Sheesh.... Is it just me or is it hot in here...? ehehe...." he says awkwardly as he slowly walks back to the staircase. As he felt around for the handrail on the side of the staircase he bumped into something or someone for that matter, Klinghoffer turned his head to see what he bumped into, it was a large man who was blocking the exit. "Excuse me sir...." the musician apologises as he tries to slip past him only to get pushed back into the room, landing flat on his backside. The room was now restless with something to tear apart, there was a vicious intent in the air and that air was wafting towards the musician, "Look, fellas, you fine gentlemen have the wrong guy I swear, I didn't do any of this. You see I'm just a fine man who was in the market for some antiquities, so naturally, my refined tastes brought me here to this fine establishment."

Johannes' men looked at Klinghoffer and his previous opponent Nisha, who now laid on the floor knocked out, to them it was obvious who was the enemy here. The group of men began to charge at the musician with a murderous vibe coming off of all of them, all the while Kong was still looking for Sylvester's escape route, too preoccupied to participate in the fight. "Can't we settle this civilly like proper gentlemen? Oh forget it, you are all assholes!" Klinghoffer said as he began to sprint away from the enemies and looked for a way to fight back in a stylish fashion. The musician slid under one of the many tables set up in the room for refreshments and appetisers, proceeding to flip the table on the subordinates, staggering their full frontal assault, he then rushed over to a lonesome fireplace that gave the auction house a warm rustic setting. Picking up a poker that laid beside it and faked a fencing stance, when he was growing up it was a custom for everyone in his noble family to fence, at this time in his life Klinghoffer really regretted blowing off fencing lessons to impress girls and hang out with his friends. "If anyone would like to help me it would sure be appreciated!" the musician said, fending back Johannes' subordinates.

Sylvester Sweet emerged from the tunnel he’d entered the auction from, startled to hear something come bursting into the floor from outside. He expected a large crowd outside to account for that sound, but when he came into the night sky, there was nobody else out there, save for a sinking ship. It found itself completely submerged, and Sylvester found himself completely alone, but seeing the gap through the wall into the auction house, he noticed it was its own sort of rudimentary tunnel. Instead of look back at the disturbing chaos of what used to be Pumpkin Sabbath, Sylvester merely sat down on the stone floor and went to work reloading his revolver. 

The task only occupied his hands, however, his mind was busy at work establishing a plan of action. He still hadn’t found his partner in crime, and the situation back in the auction house was absolutely ludicrous. Sylvester needed a way to establish a dominance more permanent than the fleeting control he’d held over the people there. But, the only reason he’d even been able to exert influence over the crowd was because they assumed Ms. Dufort was on his side. Inserting the last round snug into its chamber, the obvious realization struck Sylvester in the face. 

He needed to find the manager of Pumpkin Sabbath herself. If Klinghoffer had been captured by her enforcers, or if she was still hoarding items to sell, then capturing her would be a necessary step for the operation anyways. Sylvester was relieved to have established a clean and simple objective for himself, and holstered his revolver, content to begin his search. Before he could, the cowboy was frozen. Sylvester hadn’t the foggiest clue of where to even begin looking.
 
Re-thinking his strategy, he heard a loud voice from the artificial tunnel into Pumpkin Sabbath asking out for help. In an instant, Sylvester had recognized the voice as Klinghoffer’s and went rushing through the tunnel and back into the house. Long ago, jumping into a disorganized fray might have been the last option he would consider, but now, there was no hesitation in his action. Beginning another trip into the subterranean auction house, he tried to yell through the tunnel to preface his arrival. “Hang tight partner, the cavalry is riding in!” 

Ms. Dufort would simply have to be dealt with later.

As the dust was settling in the room, there were not many bodies left standing. Johannes was in one part of the room, Willow was in the other. Johannes was relatively uninjured, and Willow was huffing and puffing while standing among the various felled bodies in the auction room. Some having lost their lives, some having been knocked out and bleeding out currently. It was truly a bloodbath to say the least. But rather than fight, Johannes dropped his weapon for a moment. Willow held up his weapon and let it fold up into its storage form, tucking it away behind his back.

"First, while I do not wish to allow you a moment to rest, I will uphold the traditions of the people. Second, I am somewhat pleased to see you still hold some traditions in high regard. Third, you will be crushed regardless of how much rest you ge-"

"Man you really don't know when to shut up. Shut your mouth, pick a god and pray." Willow said tersely, the one time he has defied Johannes, even going as far as to tell Johannes what to do. It seemed that Willow was at one of his soft points. He always believed in revering the dead. Before getting to praying, he would take the time to collect the bodies and line them up, making sure that they were decent to face upwards to the sky. If they were not decent for an open casket, they would have their faces covered with cloths.

After every fallen body was accounted for and the room was cleared, Willow and Johannes worked together oddly enough, collecting their weapons to lie them in a pile of broken pieces of wood, almost in the shape of a bonfire. When everything was stacked together, Johannes came over with a set of oil lamps and Willow looked up at the tall guy. They had a moment of eye contact before the fire was set to the wood and weapons. They were not needed anymore, their holders having laid down for the last time.

With the fire set, Willow and Johannes took time to sit down, legs crossed, heads bent down to avert their gaze to the ground, both of them with their eyes closed. Over their laps their hands were together. The tips of their fingers together at the index and pinky fingers, the ring and middle fingers of their hands laced together as the two sat as far from one another on either side of the room. They were both taking time to pray! On the field of a battle no less. But this was the way of their people. Willow being one of the biggest supporters of this tradition. And the act of striking a warrior that was not raising their weapon to you was against the Yulkan tribe's way.

Willow Ooala Omens was someone who always looked for his ultimate grave spot, but when it came to seeing someone who lost their life, especially in such a senseless way, he couldn't hep but feel sorrowful. Despite being battered, bruised and bleeding, he was shedding tears for the loss of life of people he didn't even know. The droplets of salty water falling down onto his hands folded in prayer. This would continue for close to five minutes, five whole minutes where anything could happen, but two warriors simply sat here, praying over the bodies of the dead before the silence was broken by Willow.

"Why do the Lhao Zhuu hate freedom so much? And for the love of all things holy, just give me a single bullet point answer."

"Fir--We all know the rules of our people. The Lhao Zhuu islands are run like a business and a tight knit business of tribes interacting with each other. You have so much among the tribes, so many people to interact with and pick from. What want would you have to see the world boy? What would be the point of causing such destruction just for the sake of your own selfish desires when you are not even a Pilgrim?"

"Okay first: it was a single ammo warehouse, and a single candle over a pool of oil, how bad could it have been? And second: I like to think of myself as a Seeker of Tales. Why wouldn't you be enamored with the lands you visit when you see all of the interesting islands. It's like going to an enclosure of animals, a zoo almost. But instead of each island being the zoo, I felt like we were the animals and we were going for them to see us. I just couldn't take that--I wanted to see the world beyond the border of my tribe's damned boat." Willow sighed and finally looked up while Johannes looked back at Willow.

When the two locked eyes again, Johannes could only sigh and slowly stand up, his frame towering over Willow who was struggling to get up to his feet. "First, I would love to crush you right now. Second, I would be lying if I had said I did not think about what the world looked like. Third, It is thanks to you that the Lhao Zhuu are allowing hunters from all over seek you out and explore the new lands, exposing them to cultures they have not been exposed to before. Fourth, I should give you thanks for all of this. Fifth, it would be shameful to strike you down when you are not at your prime condition or without your weapon in hand. Sixth, it would be in poor taste to request you to brandish your weapon when you can barely stand. Finally, you may go--this once."

"What?" He asked while breathing heavily, one eye half closed, the other nearly shut as he looked at Johannes while getting to his feet in a shaky manner.

"Do not look down upon this gift Willow Ooala Omens. Begone, I will find you again. We will both be stronger. And I will show you the might of adhering to the laws of the tribe. DO NOT make me regret giving you this luxury. You honored one of the most upheld traditions of our people, you are not as vile as they have made you out to be."

"I--" Willow was at a loss for words, but there was something that continued to speak, something only he could hear as the voice in the headphones statically spoke to him in a few brief words, "Stand...move...comrades..."

Willow tugged his jacket taut over his body, that hood pulled up over his head while he held onto his ribs and started to limp past Johannes. "You hit like a sea king." Willow mumbled under his breath as he walked past Johannes, giving respect for a warrior he was beaten by and allowed to live by their grace, another tradition he seemed to honor which made Johannes smile a little while he lifted up that hammer and proceeded to start to pummel the room and cause enough of a ruckus to make it believable there was a fight in there.

Now Willow was looking to meet up with Klinghoffer and SYlvester, hopefully he would find them, or they would find him, before he passed out!

Across the room from Willow was the struggling musician fighting against a hoard of Johannes' goons with only a poker, from an unknown direction Sylvester yelled out to the musician letting him know that he was on his way, that meant that it was time to end these shenanigans with one strum. Klinghoffer dropped the poker and slung his guitar into his grasp, and strummed a loud Minor Inversion Triad. With a loud Wah! all of the subordinates went still and the musician's small chuckle grew into a loud laugh, "Mwahaha! you feeble beings don't know the wrath of the Smooth Criminal, but you will.... and it tastes a little like this!" Klinghoffer let out as he picked up the poker once again and started to whack the living hell out of them, beating them all down onto the floor. The last person in the room who is of any threat is Kong, who was before looking for how his opponent had escaped had now loaded up multiple crossbows and the crosshairs all pointed to the triumphant musician.

With a simple "Oh shit..." the game of cat and mouse and begun, Klinghoffer took evasive maneuvers and began running away, throwing random pieces of furniture to obscure Kong's shot. Bolts flew through the air in the musician's direction, all hitting just off the target, he rolled and weaved to avoid the fire until the battle was halted by revolutionary foot soldier who busted into the room yelling out nonsense. "Okay boss the charges have been set! They go off in 5 minutes! Wait.... where is the boss?" The revolutionary said as he looked around at the auction house to see where the group of revolutionaries, only to find that the ones that remained were respectfully put to rest by Johannes and Willow with no sight of the remaining group and their leader. "Oh god! This place is going to blow!!" The revolutionary screeched repeatedly as they ran screaming out of the auction house. This wasn't good, possibly the whole museum was going to explode and that meant everything and everyone inside was a goner if the musician didn't do anything, "Sylvester! Headphone guy- Uhh, Willow! This place is going to blow!" Klinghoffer yelled out to his friends. It was time to blow this popsicle stand, 5 minutes remain until the whole museum explodes.

Sylvester Sweet emerged from the tunnel, crossing paths with a leisurely looking man that resembled Kong back in the auction house. The tall stranger gave a slight nod as Sylvester took stock of what had become of Pumpkin Sabbath. Hearing Klinghoffer’s shout of warning was just about enough to give him a migraine as he understood the mess they were in at that point. He was pleasantly surprised to see the reverent organization given to the fallen bodies, as opposed to a floor littered with corpses, it seemed some people had gone to work showing some respect. At the very sight of that, he tipped his hat, a respectful, but ephemeral goodbye. 

Further investigating the museum’s basement, he was relieved to see Klinghoffer, poker in hand, despite his worried warning. He also took note of a certain orange-haired young man, he recognized as Willow, the strange kid with the stranger premonition. Sylvester called out to them both, doing what he could to keep control of the situation, “Klinghoffer, you know this guy?” he first asked, a little surprised to hear the man’s name come out of the guitarist’s mouth. “If we gotta flee, we gotta flee. Let’s ride!”

The moment he suggested surrender, a hand shot out and grabbed ahold of the cowboy’s leg. Reflexively, he pointed his gun at the arm, to see it attached to a marine officer. “Help... me up,” the captain pleaded, blood streaming out of the corner of his mouth. “Help… me…”

“Seems you’ve been mislabeled, tin star” Sylvester said, and positioned his gun over the man’s forehead. “Of course, I can fix that for you. Surely, you don’t wanna live with the disgrace of asking a pirate for help, do you now?”

Arm quivering, he pointed his hand from Sylvester up to the roof of the basement, a feeble finger pointing upwards. “The museum… people… help me…” he managed to sputter out, before his eyes fluttered closed, and that feeble finger fell to the floor. 

Sylvester had no desire to save the revolutionaries and criminals in the museum. He had no plans to spend one more second risking death to some makeshift bomb. There was no logical reason to helping out some dying (dead?) marine, and honoring what might have been his last wish. But, the cowboy knew thinking like that was fruitless. He’d visited the museum many times before. He’d seen the paintings, and sculptures and delicately curated exhibits it housed. Thinking about it all burning to some ugly pile of ash quite literally tugged at Sylvester’s heartstrings. And, as much as he hated it, he’d learned his lesson about ignoring such inclinations. “Just rest now, tin star,” Sylvester said, softly patting the captain on the shoulder, and standing up. 

“Change of plans, boys!” Sylvester said, “Y’all are free to make a break for it, but, I’m afraid we’re gonna need to do away with those bombs. I hate to see a pretty place get all burnt up, ya hear?”

Bomb Timer: 4:11 Remaining.

While the situation turned from a ten to a twenty on a scale of ten, Johannes was finishing roughing up the main room as Kong came in to view, carrying Nisha in a comrade style, one arm of hers over his shoulder, his own arm wrapped around her side and on her waist to keep her supported as they looked at their leader. "First, collect everyone you can. Second, we leave immediately. Let's go." Johannes ordered while they all made their exit, leaving the museum quickly and without much effort. The Yulkan Smiths would be heading home to lick their wounds and preparing to track down Willow again.

Meanwhile, Willow was in dire straits, battered and bruised, beaten to a bloody mess while he looked at Klinghoffer, and then to Sylvester. Of course these two would be here, he chuckled to himself, but winced and held tighter onto his side, finding the act of laughing pretty painful right now. But when Klinghoffer said that there were bombs, Willow forced himself to his feet, through sheer willpower and ignoring the pain, he took in a deep breath and let out a guttural wail, spirits floating up around him as if to indicate how much spirit he had!

He wasn't going to die here, and he was not going to stay-nope, he was going to stay here to deal with the bombs. Sylvester gave an order, and Willow did promise almost a week ago that next time they met he would have the case of misfortune. That the joy of another would come in a dark time. He could only sigh and nod at what Sylvester said. "Point the way, Captain."

Willow declared himself a part of Sylvester's crew while he took out the staff, using it as a walking stick instead while looking at the two of them, "Let's go find the bomb and deal with it." Thankfully, there were no super high tech bombs at the moment in this day and age, right? Right? It would be a simple power keg like he had set off to begin his adventure, right? he could only hope.

Only time would tell. And by this point, another seven seconds had passed, leaving them with Four minutes and four seconds to locate and disarm the bombs! WOrk fast boys!

Klinghoffer had never dealt with a bomb threat before, he had only heard stories of people theatrically defusing a bomb with less than a second to spare, but in his mind, he knew that this was not a story and there were only two possible endings to this, with the crew either being alive or dead. They needed to establish a plan on how to find the bomb and they couldn't mince words so he spoke as fast as he could, "So let's get this straight" the musician says as he begins to walk up the stairs prompting the others to follow. We can rule out the auction house since the guy came from upstairs, second, we can focus completely on searching for the bomb since the museum is closed at night and every person would've already evacuated at this point. Lastly, we need to split up, thank god this museum is pretty small for a museum. One person needs to take care of the big exhibit at the back, another person at the front exhibit and the reception area at the front, the last person will take care of the staff storage area and the outside canal for external charges."

"I'll search around the front exhibit and the reception, I'll leave you two to decide what roles you want. if anyone finds the bomb just yell out." Klinghoffer says as he runs off into the reception area and begins to investigate every nook and cranny. As he walked in the first thing he noticed was that the room was void of any merchandise, as if the owner pulled the merch out like they knew that this might happen, the first order of business was to check the front desk and see if anything was hidden inside. After no luck finding any sort of bomb, he moved on to the rest of the room, searching shelves, chairs and everything you could find at a reception. Something was up and this smooth criminal didn't have a good feeling about it, he took one last look at the deserted museum entrance then made his way out into the first exhibit, this area was much larger and many times harder to search. The first thing that went off in his mind was that there was no security protecting the pieces in the exhibit, no lasers, alarms or anything, like somebody had specifically turned them off for that night.