Kuhn scoffed as Macario headed back to his boat. "Kind of a butter betty dat one, isn't he? I'll try and find out anyting about dis contest. See if I can figure out where da wine's being held, if we're to steal it proper." Kuhn noted, as he too made his way down from the lookout point, heading in the opposite direction to Lina. He had been walking for a good five minutes, as he came to a fourway crossroads. At all of the roads, there were signs that pointed in the direction of the road. The wooden signs all read the same thing; "Locksley Inn, 600 meters." 

"Dat's... Strange." Kuhn thought to himself, taking the path to the left, he headed towards this Inn that somehow managed to be in four places at once. In another couple of minutes, the gunslinger arrived at the Locksley inn, a tavern like most others, the sign was shaped like an arrow, and in the doorway a guy wearing a feathered cap stood, leaning against the door. "Oi!" Kuhn asked, the man looking up at the stranger. 
"What can I do ya' for?"

"You happen to know anything about the Wine Tasting Contest?" Kuhn asked, and the man froze up. "Yeah. It's over at The [b]Lo[/b]cksley Inn. Filthy pricks stole it from us this year."

"... Mate, dis is da [b]Lo[/b]cksley Inn, says so on da sign. Are you not part of dis here establishment?"

"Hm? What are you talking about? This is the Lock[i]sley[/i] Inn. I'm the bouncer, this is a high-class establishment, not like the shitty [b]L[/b]ocksley Inn."

"... What."

"Ya' daft, cowboy? This is a different place. the [b]Lo[/b]cksley Inn is our biggest competition, always fighting for the wine contest with us and the other two inns, that are also both terrible, just not as bad as that one." The man explained, and Kuhn shook his head. "So.. There's four different inns?"

"Completely different. Yes."

".. All named Locksley Inn?"

"What? No. This is Lock[i]sley[/i] Inn. The others are [b]L[/b]ocksley, L[b]ock[/b]sley Inn, and the third one is the Locksl[b]ey[/b] Inn."

"You're saying it weird.."

"What's so hard to understand? They're named after the four families who opened the inns, six hundred meters away from the crossroads some hundred years ago, back when Stagio Island was first founded."

"I- What. Know what? Nevermind. Do you have beer? I need a drink."

"We do, if you have cash. Or you can pay by [i]other[/i] means."

".... Like?"

"We armwrestle a lot over here."

"I can do dat."

***


Chester was digging through the stash of the lying merchant, trying to find the grog he had been promised, only finding either empty bottles, bottles filled with water, or those that was currently becoming alcohol, none of which was finished. Till his grubby hands made their way to the bottom of the rack, furthest in, breaking several bottles as he reached for it, he found the bottle, pulling it out, he smiled, heading outside from the little shack he had broken into, he uncorked it and took one sip, feeling the taste as the liquid energized him, the joy of the booze distracting him from noticing the shadowy figure appear from behind.

The sunlight reflected off of his arm as the forearm of the large man struck Chester in a upward motion, hitting Chester in the back, cutting the pirate up to the shoulder. Making him stumble forward turning around to face his opponent, as the larger - blue clad man cross slashed Chester in the chest with his arms, slicing his chest as blood splattered over the larger man. Chester fell to his knees, holding his chest in agony as he panted, caped figure grabbed him by the hair. "You should've stayed out of my business, little man." He threw him him as hard as he could in the other direction, towards the sea, he landed some ten meters out of the beach in the water, sinking like a rock.

The black haired, navy clad ninja emerged at his master's side, all markings of his previous encounter with the Grog Warriors were now gone, once again.  "You can go tell Goldenrod that that Chester kid's taken care off." Cerulean instructed Marv, whom nodded. "Beautiful throw, sir." Cerulean gave him a smile, the cheeky, coy kind he had been practicing for the last few minutes, making his way down to the warehouse district.

"Thanks, Marv. I felt good about it."