The beloved video game series has returned in picture novel fan fiction mode!
It has been three months since thief mastermind Sly Cooper vanished into time with a broken time machine and no trace or hint to his whereabouts. His gang, Bentley and Mur...
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"The lady was not even trying to show sanity," says Dimitri on our way out. "What did you think of it, Cooper?" he asks into his comm.
"It was creepy," Sly admits. Bentley, Carmelita, Dimitri and I went to the prison. He and McSweeney and Branwell stayed behind. It would probably not be best for the three of them to show their faces there. "But since I beat her to a pulp fairly easily all those years ago, all those threats didn't carry the weight she thinks they did."
"We at least got her to sing a little bit of the tune," says Bentley as the four of us walk back to Carmelita's car, feeling a bit of familiarity in our actions. "She was in on the operation to steal those rocks, and even if she didn't admit she hypnotized those guards into covering up for the extraction of Raleigh and the kidnapping of Branwell, she revealed she's certainly strong enough to do so. She told us she couldn't wait to string our bodies up and was completely smug about it."
"My master once told me about this," I mention. "You see, I'm obviously no Mz Ruby, but I do know that for ghosts to exist, souls have to exist."
"Go on," says Bentley.
"Well, my master and Mz Ruby are very different, but I think they practice the same sort of juju voodoo magic. My master just uses it on the mind and the subconsciousness like a dreamstate. Nothing to add permanent trauma. Mz Ruby on the other hand probably focuses on the soul."
"There was an act back in 1972, before I was even born," says Carmelita, "that carried life sentences for those who dabble in this magic to hurt the soul. Your master would most likely not be put behind bars but that can be stretching it. Souls should not be tampered with. It's apparently immeasurably painful, and irresponsible soul handlers can cause eternal misery and unrest."
"I kind of remember when that law was implemented," says McSweeney through the comm. "I was a ruffian. It was then when I first got most of my tattoos. But even I slept more soundly weeks after that ruling because the idea of mojo and juju magic just creeped me out."
"Thankfully," Carmelita goes on, "the restrictions and the threats of what would happen if you violated them made the magic just straight up unpracticed and almost forgotten. But apparently even after six years in prison, that Mz. Ruby's been keeping up the craft." Then something seems to register in her mind and she slaps her head with her shock pistol. "The magic became so outlawed that textbooks that taught the sort also got banned. Most were burnt. It was seen as extreme at the time, but most saw it as the extermination of knowledge of how to torture and enslave. And maybe that's what it was. Cause I don't know if there are any more around. I don't know if we'll have the resources to be able to solve this without the alligator's help."
"We're driving back now, Sly," I say.
The ride back is a bit of a blur. The guards were extra suspicious with me and the others accompanying Carmelita. It was Bentley's idea to bring some of us with her to show, in a disguised way, that we weren't up to anything bad. Who willingly goes to a prison where you're both famous and suspicious?
