I went back to the tent corner, ate a bunch of dirt as a sparkling, handsome trash can paladin, made about 20 more rifles, and went back to the pawnshop.

The bells chimed, the door creaked shut behind me.

Immediately, I noticed the fog of the air changing color as it brushed against my skin. I was somehow... glowing pink a bit. Weird.

I went back to the counter. The shopkeep was cleaning one of the rifles when he noticed me, and his eyes widened.

Got him.

"Hello, there, shopkeep," I said in my most noble tone of voice. "I have more rifles to sell, but I have a question about that price."

His mouth hung open just a bit. His face sort of eased closer from the other side of the glass counter. "Uh. Yeah," he said. His voice, still hoarse, was a bit breathy now. "Yeah, we can, uh, talk about..." he trailed off.

He eased closer, closer--

I stepped back.

He was crawling over the counter!

What the hell was happening? Was the spell too strong?

I backed into the aisle behind me. It knocked over, and trinkets spilled out over the floor with clanks and crashes.

"Sir, sir," I said. "I just wanted to sell you some--"

"Wanna be my girlfriend?" he asked. "No. Fuck it. I don't care. Marry me. I need you in my life. I'll be your husband. Or your wife. Or whatever you need me to be."

He fell off the counter and flopped onto the floor.

This was bad. This was too much. What the hell was in that potion?

The shopkeep reached his hands out to touch me, almost like a zombie.

I inched back. I tripped over a stack of magazines, and they spilled over. I fell back against the wall. I looked up and--he was there! Right up in my face!

No, no, no!

He looked up into my eyes. "Come on. Let me take you out. I'll get you dinner. I'll treat you nice. Right? "

His hands reached closer. They aimed to take my face, to caress my chin, and to pull me into him.

The fog of the room now glowed pink.

Hmmm-click.

+1 Anti-creeper 10kg Explosive

The door shattered off its hinges. The shards of it slid across the floor. Sunlight poured in from outside. Silhouetted by the light, stood a man in a musketeer outfit. Long hair. Mustache. It was the stoner assistant! Several other guards in regular black armor stomped in, each wielding thin swords.

"Sorry, boss, but you're under arrest!"

Shit! That fuckin' stoner was a narc! It was a setup!

The shopkeeper paid him no mind. He looked up at me with begging eyes. "Come on. Elope with me. We'll start a new life together. We'll--"

The once-stoner-now-musketeer-cop yanked him back. "Boss? What the hell?" He looked at me with disgust, then shoved the shopkeeper against the far wall. Trays of jewelry crashed against the floor. The musketeer brought out his handcuffs to arrest him. "I knew you were insane," he told the shopkeep, "First running guns, and now this? You've lost your mind."

The other cops aimed their weapons at me. I was still shell-shocked and standing in the corner.

"Captain," said one of the black-armored cops. "What do we do with the knight?"

"Arrest him," said the stoner-musketeer. "He's the seller."

"Tch," the cop scoffed. "Human filth! Turn around! Put your hands up!"

He spun me and shoved me into the wall.

I asked Cassandra, "That potion--or salve, whatever--what the hell just happened?"

"It's a male charisma potion," she said. "To attract males."

Fuck! I thought it was for the use of males, not for seducing other dudes! If that's how it worked, then it wouldn't even work on women! I got duped!

"No, Imsi," Cassandra said. "It was pretty clear, to begin with. The details were written clearly on the bottle."

The cop behind me aggressively took my arms and pinned my wrists to my back. His handling of me was... rough to say, then just as the cuffs clicked to lock, he started to get... softer. More caring. More gentle. More... caressing?

Shit!

"C-captain," the cop said behind me. "This-this guy. It's... it's a guy, right? I mean, I'm not gay or anything, but I'm also--"

The musketeer barked back. "What the hell are you on about, private? Just book him already!"

I felt... hands! More hands! Like a whole-ass other pair of hands! The other cops were just... feeling me around! First, they were gentle, and now their grips rough, greedy, hungry.

"Damn, dude," said another cop. "This guy is... so hot. What the hell?"

The pink fog of the room had somehow thickened, even with the shop door missing.

"Guys, stop," said another. "We can't do this. This is kind of like sexual assault, and it's not funny." His words contradicted his actions. He nervously giggled to himself as his hands slid down my thighs. My... my inner thighs!

"He... he deserves it, right?" said the first cop. "He's a criminal, so..."

I had to get the fuck outta here. Right now. I wasn't about to play a victim in a cop-prisoner porno!

I started to struggle against the handcuffs, but--holy shit--I couldn't break free! They were pinning me down!

I felt... fingers.

Oh, god, no. My butthole! There was a coin slot there! Why did Doc put the coin slot on my butthole! Someone was touching it! And I--NO--I kind of liked it!

Someone started humping my leg. I started to thrash around, but they latched onto my limbs and back.

"Cassandra!" I shouted. "Do something!"

Hmmm-click.

+1 Umbilical Fuse :: Anti Creeper 10kg Explosive

Click.

It felt like my entire torso exploded as the bomb went off inside my vending slot. Smoke shot out all around, and soon the shop was completely filled with zero-visibility smoke.

Emergency Power activated.

With a burst of strength, I ripped my hands free from the cuffs, and the metal things shattered. I felt around for the wall--any wall at the point--and I leapt as hard as I could through it.

Glass shattered. It was a window. I rolled to my feet, shaken, and started in my sprint.

A shout from behind. "Hey! Stop! Stop that sexy paladin!"

It was the cops! I looked behind to see them already giving chase! But how? On their faces, gas masks. They weren't just cops; they were special forces. They were trained for this.

I sprinted down the dusty street, people stared and made way, and I took a hard right down a cluttered, dark alley.

I hurried down the length of it and skidded to a stop.

Far on the other end, more cops. I turned to sprint the other way. The other cops! I was surrounded! They started over in a hurry.

I dove into a nearby pile of trash bags. "Cassandra! What do I do?"

"Ejection is a possibility," she said. "It is an ability included in the Mech Configuration skill."

"But won't I lose my--"

"There he is!"

Fuck it. Anything at this point.

Ejection activated.

The back of my torso shot open with a hiss, and my recycler trash can body shot out with enough force to slam me against the back of someone's house. I clanked to my trash can face and laid perfectly still.

Footfalls rushed over. The cops hurried through the trash bags, digging like dogs in the dirt, and they found a limb. "This is it! We got 'em, boys!" They cheered. "Mission accomplished! Let's take him back and... wait."

"What the hell?"

"It's empty!"

"There's nothing inside?"

"Was this... was this some kind of automated sex machine?"

"It has to be. There's no other explanation for those godly curves."

"Heh. I guess it's our sex doll now."

They cheered again. I peeked over to see them dragging my pristine war machine armor away.

I felt... dirty. Like I had lost many things all at once. Including all my money.

This was just awful. I needed a shower.

I rolled back to my feet. Or I guess my bottom rim, right side up, and just sat there. Back as a regular trash can. Not even skeletal limbs. It was like I had lost so much progress all at once.

"Incorrect," Cassandra said, probably listening to my fuckin' thoughts again. "With the Mech Activation skill, you may craft the War Machine Armor with the prerequisite resources."

I groaned. While she did have a point, I would now need to spend time eating dirt and trash to have enough resources for it. I didn't have time for that. I knew Vil would be waiting, so I swallowed my pride, just this once, and I rolled over to meet him.

And sure enough, he was there by the portal building.

Clang, clang, clang. I stood beside him.

He glanced once, then looked away. I wasn't the only recycler in this town. But I was the only one with a rim painted red. I shot out a manipulator arm and slapped his knee.

He winced, glanced again, and stepped away. Apparently, I wasn't the only angry recycler in town. He furrowed his brow, then looked again.

He paused.

Then, he took a long, sad breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Goddamnit, Redrim."