This chapter is an entry for the Round 6 of Fanfic Bootcamp.

Fandom : Guardians of the Galaxy (MCU)

Above thousands of extraterrestrial, otherworldly realms that my time machine could transport me to, it happened to land on Xandar—where peace and treaty isn't an option. At least for an educated knowledge seeker who's also an honored thug.

Right after my head hit the rough asphalt, screams and grunts resounded nearby, grounding me on my feet. After a brief examination of my surroundings, I located the dominant voices and discovered two people, one after the other.

The leading one is a woman, judging from her maroon-tipped long hair. The one pursuing her is a man, with a shabby red jacket and a pace matching his opponent.

To my startle, the man threw something—a kind of blazing maroon rope, which bind the woman's legs afterward. A ball slipped out of her grasp as she tumbled facefirst, flipping back as fast as she fell.

As she attempted to free her bound legs, the man advanced, with his eyes affixed to the metallic ball.

Funny how they looked like dogs, scrambling for a mere ball.

Should I interfere and help? My gut told me to help the woman since the man was the first to ambush . . .

Until they started punching each other's flesh.

The woman, surprisingly, has the upper hand in the fists-exchanging activity. She strikes his chest, snatching hands, and stomach. All with a blinding accuracy.

I was in the midst of approaching them when her scream slashed through the crowd's murmurs, causing the witnesses to back off in wariness.

A red raccoon and a giant manlike plant appeared out of nowhere, joining in the chaotic situation.

While the odd plant's vines bind around the woman's arms, the raccoon hopped to her head, inserting its paws to her mouth and gawked them wider, later resulting in the woman's anger—she bit him mercilessly.

My eyes briefly drifted back to the mysterious ball, the source of all this ruckus. It prickled my curiosity at its hidden capability.

What made it pursued by many?

The man who lied flat on the ground started his move, snatching the ball while the woman's still distracted.

Seems that wherever I am, brewing trouble is one of the items in my traveling checklist.

I revealed myself from the crowd and kicked the man's knees, causing him to stumble. He cussed in an unknown language as my fingers grasped for the ball, fighting with his persistent ones.

"Let it go, you fool!" His strength was abnormal in the human race, sent me rolling as he punched my stomach twice as hard as my kick was.

But giving up isn't in my mental dictionary.

A rush of wind darted past me, followed by another one. The woman now stood next to me, a knife in hand. She braced for a throw, aiming for the ball.

I expected a gratitude to come out from her frowning mouth, but it seemed that I hoped too much for this one.

She hopped off a nearby railing, landing on the lower ground with barely a crack. As the man stumbled to reach the knocked ball, the aggressive woman has clutched it as she dashed for salvation, weaving past the terrified, weird-skinned crowd.

All this random tagging game ignites my curiosity and nosiness to poke in their business.

I made my run as I eyed them from the upper distance, glancing at the two combatting humans—if they really are. I traced the grapnel which is tied to my steel belt, controlling its movements as I darted across the foreign streets.

Everything here screamed differentiation from the advanced Earth. Their pollute-less environment is far more complicated than our time machines, which we have tried to develop for the last couple of centuries. The towers aren't much distinct from ours, with their hundreds-feet-tall heads and lively surfaces.

If there's a most prominent similarity between the two galaxy-parted planets, it's the whereabouts of the law enforcers when they are needed. At least they could clear out the scene to ease my abrasive movements.

My unsteady legs quivered as it stood on the railings, but there isn't any time to contemplate my actions. Hopping directly amidst the gasping crowd, my grapnel slashed the air as my legs brought me closer to the destination—the contested ball.

Maybe my colleagues back on Earth will reward me with appreciations. Or the public will shower me with gratitude and sin—money. Which is one of the supporting factors of why did I join this project at first.

A woman screamed as the claws of my weighty grapnel scarred the smooth pavement, letting out a shrill scratching sound. While doing so, my other hand collected a bunch of various bombs from the depths of my pocket, chuckling darkly to myself.

They're in for a dark horse's surprise.

A couple of meters and lesser ahead of me, the chaos unfolded once more. Between the independent woman, the wobbly man, and a couple of odd creatures—with the manlike plant carrying a lengthy sack.

My eyes glanced around carefully, searching for the ball. It lays untouched as the four exchanged blows and shots, clearly despising each other's appearance there.

With enthusiasm rushing my pulse up, I swung my grapnel straight for the ball and luckily managed to land next to it. I forced my wrist aside, aiming more accurately than before. And how I cackled in mischief as its claws surrounded the object, retreating back to me along with its self-pulling rope.

Without them realizing, the victory is silently mine.

My attention's now focused on the one and only ball. All my surroundings are nothing more than dizzying blurs and distractions.

I have to get it here, quick.

With a whizzing zoom, the rope shortens itself and juxtapose the circular object to my free palm, which I immediately stuffed into my safety pouch.

Anonymous yells and enraged shouts soon unveiled my unnoticed trick, panicking my nerves to act at once.

I hurled at least six of the random bombs to all possible directions, not even glancing to ensure they've reached their targets.

My lungs clutched themselves as I ran, looking for a safer place to reveal my obedient time machine. The voices become more deafening the longer I strained myself to dash, and my brain absently registered where to go on each turn.

I've done years worth of stealing, yet none were as panicking as this one. Is it because of their inhuman strengths? Or the fear of what this item can do?

To my agitation, this place lacks hideouts. Almost everywhere's an opened space, too visible for each prying eyes.

As I turned my back to make sure everything's under my bombs' control, a snarl appeared ahead of me, in a form of the panting green-skinned woman.

She lunged for my middle, but I'm steadier than she is. I held out my grapnel and aimed it at her face, framing around it.

She cussed out, her face contorting in seething rage.

"Entrampar!" I mouthed in Spanish, one of the languages the grapnel registered besides English—which the woman possibly understood.

I can't risk her to read my next move . . .

"Drop your weapons!" A voice commanded from above, sending haste to my frantic insides.

A dozen of flying, star-shaped objects hovered a few meters above us. Through their transparent glasses, I could make out the forms of men who aren't odd-skinned.

They shared us normal human's features.

I felt an urging tug on my belt, which I realized came from the struggling, trapped woman.

"Drop your weapons! Don't let us shoot!" Another stern voice threatened.

And to think I expected for law enforcers' appearances. Why do they always appear on unneeded moments?

What should I do now? Asking for my time machine to come? If then, should I take this aggressive woman with me? What if she turns out uncooperative?

Finally, against their orders, I desperately threw another round of bombs, all of which reacted the moment they reached the ground.

Strangling smokes and piercing fog clouded my vision, which is both good and not.

I grabbed the palm-sized remote from my pocket and stretched my left arm as I pinched a familiar button.

My eyelids added weight to my determination, and the weighty pull on my waist threatens to drag me down. By now, she must've collapsed.

I must take advantage of this.

The pods wheezed noisily above as if trying to segregate the thick, annoying layers.

To my relief, a dark hole appeared on my left, along with the whirring sound of my invention. Patting the stuffed pouch hanging on my belt, I heavily disconnected the grapnel from my belt.

It's impossible to drag the woman with me and force her to cooperate, looking at how stubborn she was before collapsing.

I jumped to my machine's floor and clicked the full-speed button. In an instant, the hole closes and I fell on my back, feeling the nauseating rush of air on my face.

The most important thing is, I've got the ball. Now to discover what rests within.