[What a face.]
[So no matter where you are, you still have to play the game of human relationships.]
[When you're out in the world, it's all about connections and background.]
Faced with such a swift change in attitude, even March 7th couldn't help but sigh. "This guy's face changes faster than getting hit by a 'Clockwork Trick'…"
But Dan Heng's focus had shifted away from the face-slapping moment. He asked instead, "What was that about 'students violating school rules' you mentioned earlier?"
The head hurriedly bowed and replied with a flattering tone, "Ah, it's just some suspicious guy wandering around campus, scribbling graffiti everywhere. Dressed in weird clothes, with a glowing scarf, and spouting nonsense the moment he opens his mouth…"
Hearing the description, Stelle felt an inexplicable sense of déjà vu. "That sounds way too familiar…"
"Uh…" March 7th pointed behind the group. "You mean the person right there?"
Following March 7th's finger, sure enough—standing right there was Rappa!
Not long after.
The head led the Discipline Department members to surround Rappa and another student who was way too deep in character.
A fight was about to break out.
Right at that moment.
Rappa pointed toward the three little ones, declaring that she was their companion.
After receiving confirmation from Stelle, the Discipline Department head instantly understood everything. He immediately chose to ignore Rappa and conveniently dragged away the overly immersed college student.
Watching the Discipline Department leave, Rappa expressed her thanks. "Bat • Ninja, long time no see—what fateful coincidence! And to the two Nameless • Ninjas, greetings for the first time. This one is Frenzied Ninja • AKA • Rappa."
"Nameless Ninja? You mean Nameless Guests? We actually have names, you know." March 7th introduced herself seriously. "I'm March 7th, and he's Dan Heng."
Rappa's eyes widened. "What resounding titles—greetings, Lapis • Ninja, and Flying Dragon • Ninja!"
March 7th: "…"
Dan Heng, however, remained exceptionally calm. "My name is Dan Heng."
"Understood, Flying Dragon Ninja • AOI • Lord Dan Heng."
March 7th couldn't hold back anymore. "Uh… she's so serious. What do you call this type? Chuunibyou?"
Stelle nodded in agreement. "A bit of a Pure Beauty Knight vibe too."
Coincidentally, the student who had just been dragged away by the Discipline Department returned. Seeing the three little ones and Rappa, she went up to greet them.
After some talk, they learned she was also a group chat member, going by the name "Banana Blossom Sauce."
After helping her take a few beautiful photos, the three little ones and Rappa moved to a quiet corner where few people passed by.
"Now no one will interrupt. Speak." Dan Heng crossed his arms over his chest, tone still even. "You've been following us the whole way. Why?"
[Dan Heng is still rock-solid as ever.]
[If he weren't stable, the three little ones wouldn't be able to move around independently.]
[Theoretically, Dan Heng plays the parent role among the three little ones.]
[Acting as both dad and mom while carefully avoiding getting assimilated by abstract thinking.]
— —
Rappa didn't make any excuses. Instead, she praised him. "Very sharp perception. It seems you too possess a ninja's super • hearing. But traveling together is mere coincidence. This one came only to plant Frenzied • Ninja Talismans throughout the campus and break the evil ninja formation."
"Ninja talismans…" March 7th thought for a moment and went "Oh." "That's the 'graffiti' the Discipline Department students mentioned, right?"
Rappa nodded once. "How wondrous are the threads of karma—fate has allowed this one to reunite with you Nameless • Ninjas. Flying Dragon • Ninja may not recognize this one, but surely remembers my comrade—the silver-armored, bold and dashing ninja skilled in gun-bullet ninjutsu, whose mouth is ever filled with honeyed words… His Highness 'Silver Lance • Asura'."
From Rappa's description, Dan Heng immediately supplied the answer. "Boothill. Is it him?"
"Precisely!"
"So you're also a member of the Galaxy Rangers?"
[OK, friendly.]
[No problem then—Rappa is definitely an ally.]
[Why?]
[Galaxy Rangers—can there even be a bad one among them?]
[Fair point.]
— —
Since Rappa could name Boothill and openly admitted to being a Galaxy Ranger, the three little ones immediately dropped their guard against her.
[No more suspicion? That's kinda dumbed down?]
[Dumbed down? Hater much? Did you actually watch?]
[So?]
[First, Dan Heng is clearly the brains of the three little ones. He knows Rappa saved Stelle—at minimum that proves she has no ill intent toward Stelle. Second, in this universe, no one dares impersonate a Galaxy Ranger. Even someone as strong as Acheron got chased across half the galaxy by Boothill. Whether you can beat them is one thing—whether they'll chase you is another.]
[So yes, lowering their guard is completely reasonable.]
— —
After a moment of silence, Dan Heng continued. "Why has a Galaxy Ranger returned to the dreamscape?"
"Flying Dragon • Ninja, all of you have mastered the true teachings of Trailblaze—you are upper-rank ninjas. Naturally you know that in the galactic ninja world, ninjas of extraordinary power like us are not few in number. Among them are also evil ninjas."
The camera gave a close-up of Rappa's eyes—flames seemed to spark within them.
"As long as evil ninjas exist for even one day, dangers requiring us righteous ninjas to act will arise without end. This one has come to Penacony precisely to hunt a certain villain. He leads evil spirits to wreak havoc everywhere—he is the sworn enemy of Ninja Capital, and this one's mortal foe—'Imperial Monkey • Evil Ninja'!"
Dan Heng frowned. "Uh… do you know what she's talking about?"
Stelle slowly spoke. "This is the Ninja World • Chronicle recorded in the Ninja Scroll."
"Forget I asked." The next moment, Dan Heng began thinking. "If her Ranger identity is genuine, we can't treat these words as jokes. Something might really be happening in Penacony."
"Should we intervene?"
"The situation isn't clear yet—better not act rashly. Right now we're only 'auditors.'
If only we could contact Boothill… where exactly is he right now…"
— —
Meanwhile.
Unbeknownst to the others, the cosmic cowboy who couldn't be reached was currently lying low in the shadows of the dreamscape.
"Yeah, when I woke up, my brain was telling me: 'Hatred is the weakness of all weaklings.' That's when I realized—turns out at least one part of my brain is still 'alive'."
The screen was pitch black at first, then gradually revealed Boothill standing at a bar counter. "But if you ask me… to hell with that. My brain doesn't get to control me—otherwise how'd I even get here?"
Suddenly his pocket vibrated with his phone. He took it out to check.
It was actually a message from his good bro Dan Heng.
Unfortunately the network was terrible—Boothill couldn't send anything back. But from Dan Heng's description, it seemed Rappa and the Express crew had already met up.
"To hell with it…"
The bartender, Jessie, looked at Boothill's troubled expression. "Sir, pardon me for asking, but this is already your seventh drink—and you only take one sip of each… Is something not to your taste?"
"Nah, nothing like that. These little sweet drinks are fine. Ordering so many is just habit." With that, Boothill slowly walked toward the bar exit. "Don't worry, sis—you'll find out why soon enough. I'm stepping out to handle something. Hold these for me. Be back."
Even though he'd been inside the bar, the noise from outside had carried in clearly from far away.
As a Galaxy Ranger, he'd always had a habit of sticking his nose into other people's business.
Anyway, it was just for fun—and helping Rappa out a little while checking the situation outside wouldn't hurt.
Boothill got closer and saw two groups arguing over territory.
Of course he wasn't going to stand by. He stepped right between the two sides. He didn't know who was right or wrong—but deep down, using pure instinct, he could feel it.
The ones trying to seize this turf were definitely the bad guys.
Facing the enemies closing in, Boothill naturally drew his revolver.
"What's the problem? Don't speak human? To hell with it—you want me to fire a warning shot before you listen? Fine then—get ready for a bang?"
The moment they saw the barrel, everyone present felt a chill. With Boothill at the center, they slowly backed away.
The atmosphere instantly dropped to freezing.
Fortunately, a voice broke the tension. "No need, sir. I'll apologize on behalf of both sides. Please put the gun away. We've all 'died' once already—we probably can't handle that kind of shock." The newcomer was Micah.
"And who the hell are you? What kind of play is going on here?" Boothill still wouldn't let up. "Whatever. The world's full of complicated crap—once the gun goes off, everything gets simple.
No point thinking too hard until then. To hell with it—today I'm giving you all a lesson…"
Boothill: "???"
"Wait—what the hell was that just now?" Boothill holstered his revolver. "To hell with bananas? Why the hell am I saying 'to hell with bananas' now?"
"Banana? I banana you baby? What the banana is this?"
[HAHAHA, kinda funny.]
[Boothill's still as humorous as ever.]
[Boothill: Quick, give me back my baby!]
[Oh no—he's infected.]
[Did the Synesthesia Beacon get tampered with again?]
[Probably not. Boothill's combat ability—forget monsters like Acheron—at least ordinary people can't get close to him easily.]
[He just got infected. Stelle was the same at the beginning—could only say banana na na.]
— —
While Boothill was still stuck on "banana," Micah quickly had everyone else leave the scene.
Boothill tried to reach out and stop them, but Micah blocked his path.
"Let them go for now. At least toward you personally, they hold no hostility. Besides, we wouldn't dare do anything like that anyway—right, Mr. Ranger?"
Boothill gave a slight smile. "Heh, finally someone with sense?"
Since Micah knew Boothill's identity, at least now there was someone he could actually talk to and get the latest info from.
Micah started off speaking cautiously, probing with his words. But to figure out Boothill's purpose here, he eventually laid everything out about the "Sleeping Banana Monkey" situation.
"Though it hasn't been long, those people showed up just as suddenly as you did… They call themselves 'Banana Helpers.' They look like a Dream Troupe, but weirder than weird. They came here just to promote something called 'Sleeping Banana Monkey'…"
But Micah felt the spread of Sleeping Banana Monkey in the Reverie Reef was happening way too fast—and it had already produced a wave of fanatical followers.
"'Sleeping Banana Club'? I think that's the name. Operating under the banner of a club, running promotional activities all over Reverie Reef—and not very friendly about it."
After getting useful intel, Boothill prepared to immediately go cause trouble for the "Sleeping Banana Club."
Seeing this, Micah quickly called out to stop him. "Hold on, Mr. Ranger. You still haven't answered my original question. Are you here to hunt evil—or is it unfinished old grudges?"
"Hmph. Do I look like a psycho killer to you? Answer's both. Don't ask for more."
Micah: "…" From his expression, clearly he wasn't buying it.
"Still not convinced? Fine, buddy—go to Jessie's place next door. There's a tab for seven drinks. Once you pay it, consider it you buying my good behavior here." Boothill gave a cold laugh.
"Seven drinks?"
"Even if they're nothing special, they're still malt juice. Anyone who buys me a drink—I never go back on my word to them. That's ironclad. Back when dealing with people like that, I'd rather take a few bullets than break trust."
Boothill pulled his hat brim lower. Each word felt like an oath carved into his soul.
Perhaps overwhelmed by Boothill's aura—or simply because of those four words "Galaxy Ranger"—this time Micah didn't deliberately block him.
— —
Once someone has a goal and direction, things move at banana speed.
Boothill found the entrance to the Sleeping Banana Club. Unfortunately, a test was currently underway there.
Sadly, a lady failed the test and left the area.
Boothill didn't care. He strode straight up to a Sleeping Banana Club member.
"Wait—hold on, friend. Here to join Sleeping Banana Club activities? Got your membership card? What's your number?" The club member stopped Boothill.
Boothill frowned slightly. "What banana nonsense is this?"
"Another bandwagoner… Go home. This place only welcomes true friends who love Sleeping Banana Monkey."
The next moment, Boothill naturally drew his gun and pointed the barrel straight at the club member's head.
[HAHAHA, called it.]
[I'm honestly not surprised at all.]
[I knew the moment they showed the test scene—Boothill was gonna speedrun this.]
— —
The club member panicked hard. "D-don't pull a gun! Bananas talk, hands don't move! Want to join the event? Sure, sure… but I can't just let you in like that. If you're really interested, start by learning about Sleeping Banana Monkey first."
Under the club member's persuasion—and since Boothill was fundamentally here to help Rappa—he naturally couldn't just go wild.
"Looks pretty serious. Alright—let me give it a try too?"
"Uh, it's not as simple as you think. If you only have a superficial understanding of Sleeping Banana Monkey, there's no way you'll pass."
Boothill looked impatient. "Just ask already. Let's try it—beats shooting my way in."
The club member had no choice—Boothill really would draw a gun—so he threw out a few giveaway questions.
Boothill's mouth twitched. "To hell with bananas—what even is this crap?"
Because of this, the club member still refused to let Boothill pass.
Boothill didn't mind. He tried looking for another way in.
But after just a few steps, he saw a group of children singing—being taught by none other than Penacony's most spotlighted superstar.