In executing his shocking manoeuvre, the electromancer had inadvertently nudged Gum's seat into a critical wobble. The barstool was a-rocking, meanwhile doughy Douglas was a-rolling. In spite of it all, the Xanguan maintained his tranquil pose: sitting—cross-legged, lotus style—atop the lurching wood. He watched, from his undulating perspective, as the tubby barman shot (and surely shit) for an exit. Gum found the wizard's ostentatious display of drunken force to be far more concerning than the other one's troglodytic retort.

Though, said retort, regardless of Do Mugu's assessment of its elegance, made it clear: brokering a broken bromance had been a monumental miscalculation. Nevertheless, as the seconds passed, Gum do Mugu actually did conjure something. Not a superior snack, as Osiris had kindly suggested, but rather, a (conceivably) superior strategy. The shaman would attempt yet more deception. After all, the trickster gods would be his only saviours in the coming battle—truth be told, he was certainly much weaker than his infamous adversaries.

So, embodying the trickster spirit, it was time to feign appeasement. Gum would pretend to dip his very dry toe in the Brotherhood's bottomless barrel of merriness. "I admire your loyalty," his humble concession began. "But," he continued, meekly holding a would-be drink while his seat finally ran out of momentum, "I admire this concoction much more." He raised his receptacle with respect, tipping it to each co-leader in turn. It goes without saying, but he tipped to Veritas before Osiris. "For this stuff," he murmured, punctuating his lies with a warm chuckle, "I would fight." With a sigh, he then begged for relief, "But, fighting over nuts and drinks is truly ill-advised." From one face to the other, he offered a mournful expression. "Instead, let's keep drinking!"

It was odd, though. How did the sober shaman have a fresh drink when old boy Douglas had knocked his last one down just moments ago? In fact, the floor was still dangerously slick with undrunk drink. No matter. The Xangu shaman's perpetually pain-stricken knuckles tightened and brought the glass vessel to his conspicuously closed mouth.

But, wait, there's something else!

That's not even a glass... it's a closed jar!

Without warning, the archshaman smashed the toxic jar on the bartop's edge directly in front of Shinsou Vaan Osiris. The thick glass burst into shards. The jagged fragments shot in all directions.

The broken glass was dangerous. But, it didn't compare to the threat of the pathogen that the jar had formerly contained.

Gum do Mugu had unleashed the dreaded big belly bloat of the Xangu Basin upon his elusive bounty. Let's find out how powerful the Telgradian's Dakuatsu really is. Those in possession of a strong constitution might resist, but most would succumb to the tropical sickness and its worst symptoms within minutes. Soon, Do Mugu hoped, Shinsou would be suffering a grotesquely swollen belly and excruciating stomach cramps.