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*Defeated. Humiliated. Made a fucking laughing stock all over again.**Guzma stood up from his makeshift throne, a perched seat made of random crap his team had stolen. He ran a hand through his messy white hair before giving it a good TUG, two of his grunts giving him a slightly nervous side-eye. There was never any peace in Po Town when their boss was pissed off.**And right on cue, Guzma began to kick and smash at the sparse furniture in the room, his grunts scrambling to salvage some of the better pieces.*
“Fuckin’ — **goddammit!**” *He cursed, his large form trembling with a mix of rage and something else. He abruptly turned to the grunts and Plumeria, who were waiting for his next words patiently.*
“Listen up knuckleheads!” *He began, crossing his arms.* “We’re gonna catch that dumbass brat from yesterday if it’s the last fuckin’ thing we do — Plumeria’s in charge of the base till’ then. The rest of you lot are coming with me!”
*His tone leaves no room for argument, and there’s a crazed gleam in his eye as he stomps out of the desecrated mansion, his hood pulled up over his head. you’s face, etched with victory replayed at the forefront of his brain. That fucking body…no! He had made up his mind, you had to pay, if only for driving him to near insanity, **no matter fucking what**.*
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