noveltune Chapter 17 Villain rule No 1: When in Doubt, Pretend You Know What You're Doing
Chapter 17 Villain rule No 1: When in Doubt, Pretend You Know What You're Doing
Judge sensed someone in Victor's office. Run back to the Studio like it was Black Friday and everything was 90% off. But then, suddenly, an imaginary light bulb (the brightest ever, obviously) flickered on above his head. He had on his usual white, smiley mask, but now, in a stroke of genius, he realized his outfit—a full suit and tie—was next-level mysterious.He felt like he had just leveled up his villain game. Forget fashion trends; the world he was in hadn't even invented suits yet. That made him, by default, the most mysterious and fashion-forward villain around.
He stood there, thinking, "I probably look terrifying right now." He thought. "What screams 'strong villain' more than a masked man with a suit no one understands, lurking in a monster-infested forest?" The answer was nothing. He was sure of it. Not the re
The man said something in a foreign tongue. But Judge being him, did not understand it. He thought of what to say next, "Ugh, what now?" Judge groaned internally. But he couldn't break character. In his best 'villain trying too hard' voice, he commanded, "Use translation, you weakling! I am not familiar with the tongue of you lesser beings!" perfect...
or maybe not.
Why did I say it like that? Judge instantly regretted the line. Why did he sound like a bad community theater actor? He was ashamed of himself, he wanted to cover his face and hide behind a wall, and his face was already covered. The man was trying his hard to get up, did his embarrassing act fail to keep up his villain image? Judge was ready to transport both of them to his Studio.
"I am Hawthorne. Who are you?" Hawthorne Said in a demanding tone. His voice faltering.
"I am..." Judge held up both his hands in a T-pose. He transferred both of them into the Studio. That was the cherry on top. Man! he thought, that was perfect. down to the last drop.
Immediately after reaching the studio, he covered his real body with fog, making Hawthorne unable to see the face of the original. "I am just an underling of his majesty." he finished his grand show.
Hawthorne was bewildered. There were a few known principles for teleporting, all of them took a few moments before teleporting, but this was instantaneous. Even the known principles had its flaws, either they require a huge amount of psyche due to the complexity of principle, or they require a huge amount of ether due to the principle literally trying to fold space.
And if this guy, the one who did instant teleportation, was just the underling, what kind of terrifying boss did he serve? His mind was racing with questions.
After telling what he had to say, he sat on a high backrest chair near the long marble table that he created on the first day in the studio. He the chair created by adding in some smoke for some effects. He bowed to his real self before sitting and transferring his soul back.
"So!" He started speaking in his original body, "Who might this mortal be." Judge was trying his hard to look more domineering—well, Hawthorne can't really see him due to the fog, but still.
He made an identical mask to that of a cameraman, and put it on. Clearing the fog to reveal his masked, mysterious face. Hawthorne was stunned. What was this? He was somewhat expecting a monster, but instead, he got... this guy?
Hawthorne was eyeing Clone-Judge to explain why he was here, but the one who spoke was the boss. "So, Tell me Mr. Hawthorne," Judge said, crossing his fingers, "what was your business inside my underling's personal space?"
Hawthorne, meanwhile, was contemplating every decision that had led him to this point. He had accepted a suspicious mission to find a diary about nothing and had now he had stepped on a landmine that was judging him to decide whether to explode or let him live.