This chapter has a song, and I thought it really fit. But also, when I read it without music, the silence felt like the best song of all.
So, it's up to you whether you want to listen or not—your author supports you either way!
If you do, start the track when the title appears:
[The Night We Met | Lord Huron]
----------------------------------------
Once he was far enough from the city, Puss raised his arm and wiped his nose, swallowing his tears.
This time, he truly felt lonelier than ever since coming to this world.
"Funny how life works. I left San Ricardo full of excitement to go on an adventure by choice... but now, being driven out... it's harder to leave than ever. When I had a choice, I wanted to go. Now that I don't, I want to stay," He shook his head and muttered to himself.
Then, looking at the vast desert ahead of him, his mind couldn't help but feel lost.
'Where should I go now?' Puss wondered, dazed.
'Find the culprit? But where do I start? It could be anyone… I don't have a single clue.'
He tried to think of a suspect, but nothing came to mind.
Puss had no real enemies, aside from the bandits he had defeated.
And so, while thinking, his gaze unconsciously fell on his boot, and something sparked in his mind.
'I still have the frog's corpse. If I want to make use of it, I'll need someone skilled in the craft. The only one I know is the one who forged my sword… but he's not from Spain...'
'Looks like I'll be leaving this region for a while—which is probably for the best, to let things settle down,' Puss thought, his face heavy but resolved.
With a goal in mind, he pulled the map from his horse's saddle and traced his path.
Then, kicking up a cloud of dust behind him, he rode swiftly toward the port city that would take him far from this place… Del Mar.
…
[The Night We Met | Lord Huron]
The journey was long.
For days, he lived under the open sky and the dust of the desert.
Scorching heat beneath the blazing sun, and chilling cold under the silver moon.
"I hadn't realized how cold it was out here before..." He murmured, curling up to sleep near a campfire, a bit of loneliness reflecting in his distant gaze.
The loneliness seemed to make the journey even harder for Puss.
And so, the days passed, his only companions being his horse—and the venomous creatures of the desert.
When he finally spotted a town a few days later, it was nearly nightfall.
At the town's entrance, his wanted posters were plastered everywhere. The guards' watchful eyes scanned everyone who entered.
Pulling a hood from his horse's saddle, he covered himself and tucked his hat away into his bag.
The guards watched him with sharp eyes but did nothing—they didn't recognize him.
He didn't fear being recognized. He only wanted a peaceful night of sleep. That was why he disguised himself.
And so it went in every town he stopped at—he used a cloak to hide his identity, avoiding trouble.
Thankfully, this world had enough strange people that a small hooded figure on horseback didn't seem too unusual.
But in every town he passed through, posters bearing his face were everywhere, and his name was slandered in nearly every corner.
Puss said nothing, but buried all the bitterness and anger deep in his heart.
This world he had come to love since arriving… was starting to grow darker and more unfamiliar.
It took a month of travel for Puss to reach the outskirts of Del Mar.
That month felt like a return to the days when he was just a newborn kitten, with no one to talk to…
Well, this time he had Tornado—but Tornado didn't speak.
With steady trots, Tornado slowly left the desert behind and entered a forested area—signaling they were close to their destination.
As they stepped into the greenery, the footprints they had left in the sand were quickly erased by the desert wind.
And somehow, as Puss looked back and saw this, it felt like the wind was trying to tell him something…
That the marks he had made in this world were slowly being erased too.
He stared back for a long time, until the desert finally vanished from view.
…
Crossing the city gates, his horse headed straight for the port. He had no intention of stopping—he just wanted to leave that place.
As he thought this, his eyes fell on the wanted posters plastered on the walls.
'Even if I wanted to stay, I doubt they'd welcome me…' He thought, indifferent.
Reaching the docks, he calmly slipped off his horse, and with the thud of his boots, landed on the ground.
Puss looked around, scanning for his target, and soon found him. He walked toward a sailor who was giving orders to his crew.
The man was dressed in captain's attire, vibrant and of good quality, clearly marking him as a merchant captain.
"Mi amigo. How much to take me to the kingdom of Far Far Away?" Puss suddenly asked, startling the man.
The man quickly turned and looked around, searching for whoever had spoken. It wasn't until he scratched his head, thinking he was just hearing things, that the voice spoke again — now sounding impotent.
"Down here..."
The captain looked down and saw a small hooded figure. The only visible part of him was a single green, slit-pupiled eye peeking from beneath the hood.
The captain instantly grew alert at the sight and didn't underestimate the figure's size. He'd seen too many things in his life to make that mistake.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we can't offer transport unless we know who you are. I hope you understand—it's a risk to the entire crew and cargo," He said plainly.
This wasn't the first time he'd encountered something like this, so his answer was direct. He already suspected the hooded figure wanted to keep his identity hidden.
Puss frowned. If he revealed who he was, the chances of getting a ride would be slim to none.
He stared at the merchant captain again.
"Do you know someone who doesn't care about such things? Gold is not a problem." Puss asked firmly.
But the captain shook his head. Taking unknown passengers was too dangerous.
"I don't believe there's anyone willing to risk their ship and life over a few coins of gold. Unless it's a…"
But the man was cut off by a sudden voice.
"You said gold's not a problem? I can take you!" said a man who had just arrived, holding a bottle of rum and pointing a finger at Puss with the same hand. He swayed slightly, clearly not in top condition.
"…pirate. Ptui!" The captain finished the sentence he'd been interrupted in and spat on the ground.
He then looked at Puss and warned him before walking away.
"If I were you, no matter how desperate I was, I wouldn't get involved with that kind of man. Death and misfortune follow their every step."
Saying that, he left, as if he didn't even want to breathe the same air as a pirate.
But right then, Puss was staring at the man in disbelief.
'You've got to be kidding me…' Puss thought, stunned.
"So… about the gold?" The man asked, wiggling his fingers at Puss as if to wake him up.
The man before him had every typical trait of a pirate—filthy teeth, worn-out sailor's clothes, and that unmistakable air of a rogue.
But what truly caught Puss off guard was the man's unmistakable appearance.
Long hair decorated with beads and trinkets, a braided goatee, a red bandana beneath a black tricorn hat, rings on every finger, belts with adornments, and a sword at his hip.
Puss couldn't help but ask:
"You wouldn't be… Jack—"
But the man raised a finger to interrupt him.
"Captain. Captain Jack…"