𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 || Dreamnoblade || Discontinued (?)

Chapter 30

Karl's POV:

Schlatt was clearing out the alcohol cabinet like it was spring cleaning and he was a vacuum. The copious amounts of beer could fill a fountain, and yet, Big Q reassured he'd be alright.

"He drinks like a fucking pig all the time, he'll be fine," the man spat, taking a sip of his own glass, "and even if he did have a stroke, I couldn't care less."

At his word, I rose a brow, curiously. I hadn't see him in a few months now, since he became VP to Schlatt, but I knew he wasn't one to be malicious, let alone wishing death. Schlatt must be a real piece of work for him to be this bitter. And quite honestly, Schlatt didn't seem too pleasant anyways, so I could see how.

"Why are you guys here anyways?" I asked, sipping my light whiskey. Their presence; Schlatt and his bounty hunters, weren't a common sight and it piqued my curiosity. They're expensive to hire and even more expensive to keep around. And moreso, are only funded by personal estates, not the government. Strange.

And with my question, Quackity froze, though glancing over with his tipsy eyes and reddened face. He exhaled, taking another swig.

"S'posed to be confidential." Q slurred, now looping an arm around my shoulder, pulling closer, as if whispering a low secret, "but Karl, you're a friend and fuck Schlatt, so I'll tell you."

"We— Schlatt and I— are hunting down that Dream kid."

...

Huh?

My head reeled and sharp iciness shot through my ear to feet. There was a hitch in previously calmed breath. Sapnap?

"We're gonna kill em! And then I'll be rich enough to quit this damn job!" Q rasped excitedly. I grimaced at the scent of rich alcohol on the face. He continued to rant.

"Dude, we got all these fancy guns and shit, and when I get paid we can buy a land or something, call it Mexican L'Manberg! The employer is paying us like twenty barr—"

"Big Q?" Words fled my lips. He paused, looked over curiously, even in his drunkenness. I swallowed, tugging at the hem of my sweater.

"Can you... not do that?"

...

"What?" Even with a beanie tugged over both brows, I could tell they were knitted. He was confused— rightfully so.

"Karl, what are you saying? We're gonna get rich, man? You can quit that shitty warden job, we can get an island or some shit? Why—"

"Big Q, you know your target's friend?"

He paused, shook his head, tilted like a curious kitten.

"That's Sapnap."

And there was silence. His face was unreadable. I've talked to him about Sapnap before. He called him an asshole, telling me to "forget about him" and that he "probably had a flat ass anyways". But regardless, Q knows how much I pine for him. Even moreso after my letter about our encounter the other day.

Quackity, my best friend, knows how, despite the patches we've been through, he knows I am still in love with Sapnap.

And there was silence.