Often, in action flicks on the TV screens back in Realm 349, the machine-gun-wielding heroes would end up in the grip of death only to break free, stronger than ever. As Tenner was a hero himself, he had too many of those moments. Though he’d never thought how it would feel to soak up the rain of bullets on the other end of such a comeback.

Sam’s huge bet shook The Wonderful Yellow, attracting even the bartender’s and drunkest drunks’ attention. The drunk snapped. Over fifteen minutes, the pipe remained untouched behind his ear, he played unthinkable moves.

And ravaged any chance his opponent could have.

That bet was no joke. He really plays like a man on the verge of death.

As the holographic cards hovered over to Tenner, his gaze unfocused. The crowd looked at him pitifully and cheered Sam. Tenner wouldn’t be a loser. He couldn’t play like this either. His focus seemed to have abandoned him and all the strategies in his mind couldn’t fight against whatever the fuck the drunk was pulling.

Worst of all, the game felt wrong. Perhaps it had been fixed, he contemplated, but as a god of gods of cheating, he couldn’t find a hint of that.

Tenner let time slow--at the thanks of a few perks--and his mind drifted into the past.

No doubt, something had to get him out of this slump. His last match took place when he was still a member of Realm 349. It was as far from unordinary as it could be and wouldn’t help in strange times, while the matches before it had some interesting moments and brought to mind a few dusty tactics. Would “Elephant” or “Dunk-His-Head” help? Tenner delved farther back.

Hope bled from the pale body of hope in Tenner’s hands and the past didn’t give him a single bandage to patch the wound.

This is so unfair. He let his head slouch to the table. The cards glitched. Specks of light jumped around his vision. I haven’t played in weeks whilst he’s here every day. I deserve a free win to compensate! His head rose a few centimeters, meeting his opponent’s gaze. Sam’s eyes, even though they stared down at Tenner, didn’t judge him for holding up the match.

They didn’t seem to see him. That stare meant one thing -- Sam was planning ahead.

“Want to take a break? I’ll buy you any drink you want,” Tenner said.

Sam shook his head. I’ve never experienced this sort of foe before -- old strategies won’t work, Tenner thought and sat up straight, fingers twitching with excitement.

A strategy so recent, he hadn’t ever seen it be used in cards, popped into his head.

Tenner remembered day three of the hunt after clearing the Castle of Hate. In a snap, The Wonderful Yellow disappeared and he sat in front of the bunker’s desk once more, Dash on the other side, and opened book after book. The smell of paper was nice to the nose, but it couldn’t disguise the stench of blood. It lingered no matter the effort the ghost put into cleanup. Tenner came across hundreds of contracts hiding in the Realm. For most of these people, the bandits offered protection. Or used to. Finding an entry with still useful information brought the same feeling as drawing all aces.

One contract not only watered his mouth for the taste of blood but worked his mind. The entry took up a whole page yet black lines blanked out most of the information. A reward--600C$--was visible, a detailed badge Tenner could look at to activate the contract and a nickname -- The Puppeteer.

Tenner slid the book across the table to Dash.

“The fuck is going on this page? Looks like some sort of super-secret contract -- worth taking?”

The ghost spent a moment reading.

[Sure. It’s the best contract in the whole book. One the bandits couldn’t force their protection on yet couldn’t stop from living as well. Beware.]

“Finally. Seems like a challenge and I’m definitely up for one,” Tenner said, standing up. “You gonna come along? Your help would be… useful.”

Dash shook their head.

[The strength to travel that far has long vanished from me. I’ll stay here and keep researching for a way out...]

Tenner sighed then left through the vault door. Two laserpistols--stolen from the ghost hunters--hung off his belt along with half a dozen charges. He also gripped a steel dagger with a long blade. Its handle felt wrong along with everything else about it. Though the bandits hadn’t offered a wide range of options for melee weapons, and he was still reluctant to return to the main districts. Once I pass out, then I’ll do all my shopping.

Tenner followed his holographic map to The Puppeteer’s location, skipping through most of the path by crossing Fields of shanty huts, running atop roofs and running through the insides of peoples’ homes.

The sketches in the bandits’ bounty journal had shown that the bounty resided in a Block, inhabited only by them. This Puppeteer had the most luxury the slums could afford as three massive metal mazes made up their home and a tall metal fence of all sorts of pipes surrounded it. Heads hung atop each pipe. Muppet heads. Indeed, it was a wonderful revelation, but the closer Tenner neared, the more chilling the sight of hundreds of toy eyes glaring upon him became.

Tenner entered a cageroom hanging a few floors off the ground. Dim lights lit the room from the corners, muppets and toys covered wooden tables, chairs and some of the floor, all of them facing towards the entrance. I’m starting to think. Tenner climbed into the room. That this guy is just a toy himself. He walked deeper just to find more toys and a stage. Chairs, atop which plushies sat, surrounded it. On the stage, a mannequin stood still. Or tried its best to.

C’mon, you really couldn’t make it more obvious? Or did I enter too fast for you to think of a better hiding spot? Tenner trudged past the plushies and gave a slap to the back of the mannequin. It creaked and fell on its face. Maybe it wasn’t The Puppeteer.

Light flashed from a silver surface.

Tenner turned in time to face a knife sticking out a rabbit plushie. But the time to stop it had long passed. His hand jumped out of instinct. The knife sliced up his palm and a long stretch of his forearm. Before the damage message could pop up, Tenner dismissed it and drew both of his laserpistols, blasting The Puppeteer with twenty lasers. Fluff rained down. Tenner’s heartbeat slowed. Then the memory of a past mistake kicked it back into full speed.

No job complete message! He turned around and blasted the mannequin. Wood splinters shot everywhere. Tenner rubbed his eyes, itchy from the wood. Still no damage message! He checked every corner of the room and inspected every plushie. Certain the room was a decoy, he crouched by the exit. There, shadows danced.

The rabbit plushie, leading an army of muppets, stabbed Tenner thrice in the back. He fell two stories to the ground, muppets raining all around. With a groan, he stood up and The Puppeteer faced him.

Thus began the stab-a-thon. They knifed each other for two minutes, hordes of muppets coming to their masters help.

The Puppeteer’s knife did 20 every time it landed and its collateral added up to over 100 a minute. Tenner’s dagger slashed 18 off the goon’s HP with every hit. He didn’t know how long The Puppeteer would last, but he knew he could handle three more minutes of getting stabbed.

Tenner put every drop of his focus into catching The Puppeteer’s patterns. The little lunarist was one of a kind, always switching it up. After a minute and a half, Tenner caught them repeating themselves.

He blasted The Puppeteer with a dozen lasers and they flew back a dozen meters. Then they jumped back to their feet, knife swinging.

Tenner chucked the laserpistols as far away as he could and drew his own dagger, entering a fighting stance. The twenty stab wounds burned, making him unleash a scream. Using its momentum, he charged.

The Puppeteer employed the same strategy Tenner had not long ago, hunkering down in one spot and raising their knife above their head. Tenner kicked. The Puppeteer reacted quickly, stabbing his leg and bouncing back a few meters.

This lunarist is a fighter I’ve never seen before. Tenner retreated. They did a ton of damage and left me to die, but whenever I try to get near, they run away.

Deception is my final option!

“Wait!” Tenner said, putting his hands up. “You’re The Puppeteer, right?”

The rabbit plushie nodded.

“Then why in the world was I fighting you? I thought you were one of their defensive mechanisms I’ve heard people talk about. Anyway, I came here in peace. With a deal, in fact: you join my gang and I provide you with whatever materials you could ever want!”

The Puppeteer pointed their knife at Tenner. And simply shook their head.

At a loss for words, Tenner imitated The Puppeteer’s strategy and stood in place like a special Stardestructor card, weapon pointed. The Puppeteer wasn't an idiot. They didn’t attack. The two stood their ground, two and a half meters apart.

Tenner and The Puppeteer were bleeding to death from stabs, falls and shot wounds. And they were both immensely powerful. Tenner knew he was superior and had no worries waiting.

The first to attack is the first to die.

[Still As Death’s Gaze] healed him, bringing him to face the darkness inside. First, an hour passed, then two, then three. Before they knew it, they’d been standing for half a day. Soon enough a day passed.

There was a sea of blood under them and Tenner’s wounds had almost healed.

The Puppeteer was staggering. Weak. Tenner threw away his dagger. The bounty grabbed it and jumped at Tenner. Tenner grabbed their wrists and gnawed at their neck.

The Puppeteer struggled for a moment then gave in to the exhaustion and Tenner’ s pure power.

Tenner dropped The Puppeteer and stepped on their chest.

“Mind speaking with me for the first, and the last, time?” he asked as his hands pointed two knives at The Puppeteer’s chest.

The bounty choked on their blood. A few gurgles left their mouth. It cleared for a moment long enough to say a simple phrase.

“You’ll die the same way too…”

Tenner bounced the idea around his head. “I don’t think so,” he said, stabbing The Puppeteer’s chest. Red replaced the whiteness of the plushie costume.

[Last Word Gives has succeeded! Boosting being’s existence for 100 seconds …]

Tenner grinned, the present and The Wonderful Yellow returning to his surroundings. He’d tapped into his memories to form the strategy he’d use against Sam Doctor, but somewhere in the middle, lost self-control and went to the very end of the memory lane. It was pleasant to remember the payoff from defeating the Castle of Hate and the countless quick hunts that brought his levels up. Now he’d return to the real world and defeat Sam, his mind converting what The Puppeteer had done into Stardestructor plays.

“Let’s play,” he said, then, a moment later, asked, “You like these holographic cards?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Sam scratched the back of his head.

“I prefer real ones you can touch and shuffle.”

Sam reached into a pocket and took out a paper box with floral ornaments. His finger navigated into a tiny gap and opened the box. Inside, waited a deck.

Perfect. Tenner slid them to Twisty and cracked his knuckles. The comeback kid is about to crush the comeback Sam.