Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

In the choice between "dead poor bastard" and "dead comrade," Malin used the Stonewall, first to block the initial volley of bullets. Two World Tree Saplings whipped around from either side, knocking those mind-controlled poor sods to the ground.

"When I watched you crush that prince’s skull on the video, you didn’t show your merciful side," the old Bishop of the Church of Justice crawled out from under the vehicle. He took in the damaged street, the figures knocked to the ground, and the Revolver extended to him. Accepting the firearm, he placed it back in the holster behind his waist: "Please forgive my test of you."

"Suspicion is the path to survival, I won’t blame you for that. Although my relationship with him was genuinely good, I couldn’t come to terms with him. My dream is to ensure the children of this world are well-fed, while what he desired, was completely opposed to mine," Malin said, turning his head, just in time to see one of his World Tree Saplings knock over one of the men who had just gotten up, "He wanted war, endless war, constant bloodshed, and these are the greatest obstacles to my dream. Hence, as the Thananians say... ’Different paths, do not make plans together.’"

Malin didn’t know if the old man understood his last phrase, as he had spoken it in Thainanese.

But evidently, the old man had understood him, as he extended his hand: "You’re right, I was too worried."

"No, your Excellency. As I’ve said before, suspicion is the path to survival. In this world, one must be more cunning than Evil, more skilled in killing than Evil, more adept in conspiracy and deceit than Evil. I’m a consequentialist; the method is unimportant; the outcome needs to be perfect. If the outcome is poor, then perfection during the process is nothing but a laughable, clumsy performance," Malin reached out his hand, shaking hands with the old man: "Let’s reintroduce ourselves, Malin Gaiate, a mortal who wants to live and doesn’t mind others living better lives than mine."

"What about the wicked?"

"Streetlights, ropes, and their necks, make for an excellent organic combination. I would bless them to step into a ceremony named ’The End,’" after finishing, Malin looked towards the Saint Heir that had stepped out: "Did you come out because of the gunshots?"

"Yes, but considering the Guards didn’t make a big fuss, I slowed down," the young Half-blood approached Malin: "Koerchakin Duplex, a Half-blood Elf, my mentor gave me a human name, Paul."

Malin looked at the young man and, finally smiling, shook his hand: "Hello, Paul."

"Hello, Malin. I have a two-wheeled light motorbike here; do you need a ride back?" The Saint Heir offered Malin a good choice, and he followed him onto the bike—truth be told, the vehicle resembled a motorcycle more than anything, but the locals preferred to call it a light motorbike, perhaps because of the difference in the wheels.