Sumatra's Greatest Fan

Chapter 104: Setting Sail

“Return to your pond before you act important, dumb fucks.” Tarah said and plunged her index finger into Fanfan’s nose.

“Bitch!” Mist blasted out of Fanfan’s body as he glared Tarah with killing intent. His mist clamped upon her hand and intended to push her away. However, it was struggling to do so.

“Push it out before you act like you’re someone relevant.” Tarah snorted as Prana surged into her arm.

Boom!

The mist pushing her away turned into a storm, acting like the thrust of a rocket as it violently tried to push her away. However, Tarah stood her ground without a change in her pose. Her index finger even moved an inch further into Fanfan’s nose, followed by her derisive tone, “I’m sorry, is the master struggling to move the slave’s finger?”

“Isn’t that…concerning?”

Ka-Boom!

Primary Nature–Rippling Tsloch Dominance!

Fanfan blasted a vapour cone and succeeded in sending Tarah flying dozens of metres away, “That’s what you get for acting high and mighty…GRAHHH!”

Even though Tarah had been sent flying, her index finger was still in his nose. It had been severed from her hand, and now, it was violently dancing within Fanfan’s nose, unable to be pushed out.

Mystic Humans treated their body as a Spirit Weapon, able to reinforce their strength, endurance, and the like using psychokinesis. They typically used their body parts as a Spirit Weapon that flew around in their Spirit Weapon range.

Tarah’s index finger was treated as a Spirit Weapon now as it crawled deeper and deeper into Tarah’s nose, to the extent a bump was visible externally that was wriggling like a worm.

“Take it…TAKE IT OUT!” He screamed in pain.

“Ganging up on one child.” Tarah snorted upon seeing dozens of Cooter Clansmen surround her, pressing upon her with their raging presence. “Aren’t you ashamed?”

“We’re already at our limits tolerating your presence in our midst.” A Cooter Clansman raged, “And you dare attack one of us?”

“I’m the victim here.” Tarah glared back, “I’m sure that doesn’t matter to you.”

“Your kind stole our land…” A Cooter Clansman charged up an attack, and suddenly found himself at a loss for words. The cause was a gaze he felt upon his being, with extreme clarity.

It was as if he was a piece of meat, decorated to be served on a platter to this being with a voracious appetite. The Cooter Clansmen at the scene were all at a loss for words. Simultaneously, they raised their heads to stare up at the individual who had walked to the edge of the Battleship’s deck and peered down upon them.

It was Yoribu, her face still wearing the same, peaceful expression as before. However, if one were to focus on her head, a small, barely a few centimetres long aurora was visible. The aurora was subtly morphing to display the gaping maw of a ravenous beast.

Her gaze fell upon Tarah as she opened her mouth to ask, “Did I ask you to engage in a fight?”

“N-No,” Wearing a pair of Tratham shoes that radiated gentle pulses of violet into the water and allowed her to stand on the surface, she bowed her head in shame.

“You wanted to mingle with the Cooter Clansmen to broaden your horizons.” Yoribu commented, “I remember permitting you only for that, am I wrong?”

“You’re right, Councilwoman.” Tarah nodded in shame.

“Then why do I see your finger still in that Cooter Clansman’s nose?” Yoribu asked next. At her words, Tarah hurriedly retracted the finger and turned it to dust using her psychokinesis before dumping it into the water.

“Good,” Yoribu nodded and then eyed Fanfan, “And your name is?”

“Fanfan,” The man replied.

“Keep a check on your tongue.” Saying so, Yoribu walked away, “You almost made me declare war on your kind.”

“Fucking weakling.” This statement resounded as a whisper in Fanfan’s ears, audible only to him, transmitted by Yoribu.

Veins popped all over his head and neck, as Fanfan was about to explode from anger. He couldn’t even bring himself to breathe, for he was extremely pissed at the humiliation he had suffered.

Blood dripped down his nostrils as until the last moment, he had been absolutely helpless in extracting Tarah’s finger. Someone significantly younger than him had not only insulted him, but in their show of strength, he ended up being absolutely inferior.

“Get to work.” Bnapbnap arrived at the same spot where Yoribu stood a few seconds ago and addressed the crowd gathered below, “Focus on the mission.”

“Yes,” Alongside the rest, Fanfan nodded with gritted teeth and walked towards the boat. His team quickly followed suit as he brushed past Torq, slapping the back of the other party with force, “Why does the boat look so shitty?”

Bang!

Torq found himself on the floor of the cloud platform, feeling his head ring from the impact. ’There was enough force in it to have concussed me.’

He had instinctively used a layer of wind to protect his head, but the other party used Mystic Mist Art to disperse the wind before landing the palm on the back of his head, ’He intends to vent his anger on me, huh?’

“Urgh!” Torq made a groan as he got up and felt a kick to his stomach, which sent him flying into the boat and cough out blood from the impact, ’You asked for this, fucker!’

He shrilled in pain for an instant and looked like he had fainted. Suddenly, a foul stench permeated in the area, as everyone nearby unanimously stared at the source.

It was Fanfan, having shit his robe.

The moment he hit Torq on the back of the head, the latter had activated his Narlakk Pet to release its pollen and directed it, through psychokinesis, to funnel into Fanfan’s body.

And then, Torq activated Mystic Mist Art on the pollen and made it influence Fanfan’s targeting his gut specifically. The result was extreme diarrhoea.

Faintly fluttering his eyelid, Torq observed Fanfan’s bald head go beet red from embarrassment as he subtly covered his nostrils with a thin layer of mist to avoid sniffing the nasty scent flowing in the air.

Thirty minutes later, the boat set sail as Fanfan was seated on its very front while Torq sported a poker face while seated on the back, doing nothing. The remaining nine Cooter Clansmen rowed the boat forward by controlling a powerful stream of water using psychokinesis.

Since he was seated at the very rear, no one paid him any attention. This allowed Torq to slip a hand into his sleeve to pull out a Parute Fruit.

He then threw the fruit into his mouth, ’It’s great the leader of this team got embarrassed earlier.’

’Since he publicly slapped me on the head, no one will find it a surprise if I suddenly find myself in the water.’ He was charging up the needle, preparing himself for the eventual disaster that was bound to strike them soon.

However, he had zero plans to put his life at risk. He was bouncing the moment shit hit the fan.