"What are we supposed to do about this...?" asked Foxly looking at JohnWillEdge in the corner of the room.

They were inside the jGuardian base, specifically the fancy meeting room.

The floors were wood, several soft, red couches were stolen from nearby towns and bandit camps.

The walls were stone brick.

A round table stood at the centre of the room.

"..."

"..."

JohnWillEdge stood cross-armed in the corner of the room trying to look all serious.

Wooden windows and the occasional bookshelf lined the walls.

"This is weird..." Revenberry remarked looking over to JohnWillEdge.

"I know, right?" Alex sighed.

Lamps were hung off the ceiling like a poor man's chandelier.

Curstl crossed her arms and leaned back in her couch-seat.

"Well... as much as getting our strategist back into one piece is important..." she began.

"We kind of have a few other issues..." she said with a sigh.

"issues?" asked Jordan looking at the split John.

His thoughts were consumed by the idea of using that ability to make a second-him to make a vessel for his brother's soul.

JohnWillStab still didn't tell him that his brother's soul is inside of his body.

"Yes... people are going missing down south, apparently it's the work of some serial killer... the town was all but promising to ally with us if we deal with the murderer..."

"It's a city in Calsh, Glumington..." she explained taking out a letter and placing it on the round table.

"So far, forty-five people got perma-killed by this alleged murderer, though the idea of it being multiple people isn't out of the question," she explained.

Bromy was the first to go look at whatever was inside the letter.

He looked at the several images inside.

"Holy shit..." he remarked.

"I know..." Curstl nodded.

"These sketches look like shit!" Bromy exclaimed crumbling the page in his hand and tossing it away.

It was literally a stick man with an oval head and a smiley face laying in a pool of blood.

There was a solid thirty more images of a similar nature.

"Don't crumble our documents!" Curstl exclaimed.

"Documents? This looks like the rejected list of art-competition pieces coming from an extra special school..." Bromy said bitterly.

"Really? Let me have a look!" Alex said walking over to Bromy who extended the crumbled image his way.

Alex opened it up and his eyes widened.

"My god!"

"This really is bad..." he agreed.

"He placed the page down on the round table and knelt down on the wooden floor as he began drawing,"

His art looked rough, but the stick-man looked more human, the blood was also now shaded in to look black.

"Hmm, better..." Bromy said as he crouched down next to the picture and drew on a few muscles and shaped the arms and legs to look more human.

"Hey! Quit drawing over the evidence!" Curstl exclaimed.

"Nice work, guys!" Revenberry exclaimed.

"Hold on!" Foxly walked over and took over the pencil from Bromy, he drew on round cheeks and shaggy hair along with the iconic frog-mouth.

"What are you doing? You made it look like a frog person!" Alex exclaimed.

"So what?" asked Foxly.

"This person is clearly too tall for a frog person!" Bromy replied, Alex nodded in agreement.

"Tch, fine..." Foxly rubbed the face out and thought for a while as he began drawing.

"There!" Foxly handed the pencil over to Bromy.

"Foxly... what the hell?" asked Bromy looking at the moustached man.

"I didn't know what to draw on so I decided to draw someone I wouldn't empathise with since they're meant to be dead!" he explained.

"So you drew Hit*er?" asked Alex looking at the photo-realistic depiction.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Good call!" Bromy said, he changed his arm to be in an upright position.

"There, now we know it's him!"

"What about the badge?" asked Alex.

"Hmmm... yeah, you're right..." Bromy sketched on the badge.

They looked at the picture in silence for a bit.

"Hmmm..." Bromy scratched his chin.

"What is it?" asked Jordan.

"This image isn't telling me anything... how'd he die?" Bromy pondered.

"Oh, you're right!" Alex sketched on a hole in the side of his head with some blood splattered around, he also put a gun in his hand.

"There!"

"Oh! Now it all adds up!" Bromy nodded.

"LIKE HELL IT DOES! GO HELP THEM!" Curstl exclaimed slamming her hands on the table.

"But he's already dead, a bullet wound to the brain is usually fatal..." Bromy replied.

"T- A- I KNOW! I NEED YOU TO GO FIGURE OUT WHO IS THE KILLER!" she exclaimed.

"No need, I already know who killed him," Bromy shrugged.

"You do?" asked Curstl,

"Yeah, you can see it on the picture!" Bromy replied picking up the picture and pointing to the bullet-hole in Hitl*r's head and the gun in his hand.

"He shot himself to avoid capture," he explained.

"NOT THE REAL HITL*R, THE ONE IN THE PICTURE!" Curstl yelled, she was past the point of losing her temper.

"Oh..." Bromy looked back to the picture, he placed it back on the table and began rubbing bits out and drawing on different bits.

"Here..." he lifted the page back up.

It showed a picture of Hit;*r laying on the ground next to a bike with his name on it, next to the giant wound in his head lay a rock.

"He fell off the bike and hit his head," Bromy explained.

"FOR THE LAST TIME, GO HELP THE PEOPLE!" Curst exclaimed.

"Tsk!" Bromy crossed his arms.

"I'm not going over to help Hitl*r or the town that shelters him!" Bromy said turning his head away from her as if he was upset.

"Ugh..." Curstl turned to JohnWillEdge.

He was still standing in the corner of the room.

"You, half-strategist, go do something about this..." she said in a defeated tone.

"You got it!" JohnWillEdge took off his coat and walked over to the picture, he snatched the pencil from Bromy's hand.

"Here you go, boss!" JohnWillEdge held up the picture with Hitl*r, in his mouth was a stick with the words "weed" written on it, he had sunglasses and in his other hand he held a bottle labelled "Alcohol".

"..."

"What the hell is that?" asked Curstl.

"Don't you think someone as rad as that deserves a hand?" JohnWillEdge asked looking over to Bromy who looked uncertain.

"Rad?" thought everyone in the room.

"I'm not helping Hitl*r no matter how cool he may look!" Bromy replied.

"Hmmm..." JohnWillEdge drew something else on.

"How about now?" he asked.

Hitl*r was now wearing a bucket hat.

"..." Bromy began to sweat.

"I mean..."

"It is a cool hat..." Bromy said uncertainly.

"Bromy!" Bonifacius exclaimed crossing his arms.

"Hey, I'm just saying, I like the hat!" Bromy said in response to his judgemental stare.

"Bony, please don't encourage their stupidity!" Curstl asked nicely.

"Oh my god! Give me the pencil!" Revenberry exclaimed walking over to the picture.

She grabbed the pencil from JohnWillEdge and began drawing on the page.

She held up the picture and Hitl*r now wore a Teletu*by outfit, the antenna on his head looking like a swastica.

Bromy, Alex, John and Revenberry did their best to contain their laughter as Bonifacius and Jordan looked at them judgementally.

Meanwhile, Curstl laid down on the couch, crossing her arms behind her head as the group erupted into laughter at the image.

She gave up on getting anywhere with the group that day.

Meanwhile. Pedecree was hard at work downstairs working on the drink...

Olivionion was out again, looking for a clue on where the demon king could be.