Author's note: Sorry for the delay, I was having trouble sleeping due to work anxiety and technical problems with my house's power supply involving rain (because where I live is basically a Brazilian London).

Point of View from Uvo

In the middle of a street littered with swords on the ground, I said:

—Wait, are these the clues Bosenmori talked about? I saw a drawing of a horned monster with bulging eyes and an open mouth laughing where it holds those blades! Is that a signature to give a clue?

As I walked down the street, I kept defeating more bad guys to get more money and support the other guys who wanted to go defeat Bosenmori, who gave me money in the form of fingernails (which were... taken from the enemies who defeated them... yuck...).

At most, those fingernails I received in two short days without sleep were worth almost a single coin of the most valued and expensive currency in the world, the Kuwaiti Dinar, after exporting oil to the whole world...

— I don't know much about economics, but what do I get out of it? Oh, I get it, it was paying for my train ticket to Nielendorane, an underground city located in the city's sewers, the place where Bosenmori left clues in the form of little swords on the ground like Hansel and Gretel so you wouldn't get lost...

While I was paying a one-pound note with my fingernails to the ticket seller to give me a ticket.

However, the guy at the ticket booth, who looked like one of those school bullies from American movies with that disgusting slicked-back black hair and leather jacket, pointed a Japanese sword at me and said the following in a nasallly voice:

— Seriously, my friend. Since my father went to the premiere of the Superman movie with Queen Elizabeth in 1978, I've never seen anyone as kind as before! Are you safe now? I also have a little knife and I want to accompany you to go search Bosenmori!

While he spoke cheerfully, a tall, hooded man in an hooded coat printed with the American flag appeared in front of me.

— Hello everyone, I can't believe I'm seeing tall, blond teenagers in jackets, jeans, sneakers, and pure muscles. You know what country has that? My dear America! Because we train our children from a young age to become the nation's miracle! As I saw in Chicago. A city where there are only factions of people who don't recognize the American Style!" "What did you say?" said the guy in a calm, stoic voice.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP

After I heard a bomb beeping sound inside the ticket booth, I ran out until it exploded.

BOOM

That guy then walked over to me alongside other hooded men with the American flag while he started whistling the Rolling Stones song Satisfaction, which, to make matters worse, is my favorite song.

— This wonderful explosive thing of mine is called 'Satisfaction,' because I can´t get no satisfaction from seeing anyone who disagree with me...

He then walked away whistling again...