Berryman’s Dive stank of smoke and stale beer. There was an old Southern rock record playing. I didn't recognize the music, in fact, I don't think it was music that you would find in the real world, and yet somehow, I still knew that it was way out of date. This place was like stepping back in time.

The furniture was mismatched, and the tables were so old and fogged over with grime that they could probably never be clean. There might have been seating for fifty but there were only ten or so NPCs scattered about.

“Don't talk to the guy scratching his arm,” I said. My friends looked over in the direction I was staring at.

It was a skinny man with a big coat and a knitted beanie on his head. He sat at the bar near the front of the building minding his own business. When he scratched his arm, he would pull up his sleeve enough so that you could see large welts that looked like bug bites.

“Don't play number twenty on the jukebox,” I said. I had no idea why. I just knew that we did not want to play that song. I saw “This is scaring me” on the red wallpaper. I assume that was a fairly serious warning.

I continued looking around.

What caught my eye next wasn't an omen. In fact, I wasn't the only person to notice.

“Look at the bartender,” Kimberly said.

He was an older guy. Thick around the middle, unkempt Gray hair. He seemed mild-mannered as he cleaned shot glasses behind the bar. He looked at us expectantly, ready to take our orders.

Eugene. NPC. Plot Armor: 90.

That was officially the highest Plot Armor I had seen on anything in Carousel and it happened to be assigned to some random bartender who didn't even have any tropes that I could see. How strange.

Dina ordered us a round of beers and Eugene got to work supplying them.

For the most part, the bar seemed safe. More omens might come and go as the day went on but right now there were only three. The two I told you about and the one in the back. The one that we came here to see.

At the back of the bar, a man sat at a table. His dark hair was combed neatly. His face was cleanly shaven. He wore a nice suit, the kind you might see on a Southern gentleman walking the streets of Savannah. He was shuffling cards and nursing a whiskey. There were poker chips on the table. As soon as we walked in, he looked at us and smiled.

“Nice day today, wouldn't you say Eugene?” He asked.

Eugene nodded and gave out a lackadaisical “Uh-huh.”

“The only thing that could make it better would be a nice game of cards.”

“Uh-huh.”

They went on talking back and forth like that. They never really said anything of substance.

It was obvious to everyone what was going on here.

This was the man we had come to see.

The man playing cards was called Mysterious Gentleman on the red wallpaper.

“What's the trigger?” Dina asked.

I scanned the red wallpaper. Everything that I knew about the Mysterious Gentleman was as follows.

His poster read: The Mysterious Gentleman in Antemortem.

Mysterious Gentleman

Plot Armor: 18 (Adjusted from 67 by Show Ticket)

__________

Tropes

Soul Read

This villain has insight into the player’s soul. (Moxie)

A Deal is a Deal

This villain will not lie about a promise.

Self-Restraint

This villain intentionally limits their own power for this storyline.

Ambiguous Alignment

The villain is morally gray.

Bender of Truth

The villain will always take advantage, when possible, outside of directly lying.

Unholy

This creature is weakened by general Demonbane