Everyone was asleep, Makarov was half-asleep, and Mystogan didn't meddle in others' business.
Wasn't this a god-given opportunity for creation?
Ryoma's lips curved upward uncontrollably. He flashed behind the bar and rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a magic pen Mirajane usually used for writing.
The pen tip shimmered with the luster of non-fading magic ink.
Holding the pen, Ryoma took a deep breath like an artist about to take the stage and began his performance tour.
The first target, naturally, was Natsu, who had just been knocked out and was now asleep.
Ryoma squatted down, looking at Natsu's silly face, still grinning in his sleep, and unhesitatingly put the pen to his face. The pen tip glided smoothly across Natsu's cheek.
A plump tortoise shell, paired with a little head and four limbs—a vivid turtle appeared on his face.
Ryoma thought for a moment and added a word next to it—Idiot.
Perfect.
He nodded with satisfaction and turned his gaze to Gray, not far away.
As expected of Gray, even in his sleep, he faithfully adhered to his dressing philosophy—only a pair of underwear remained.
This was practically a ready-made canvas.
Ryoma walked over, smirking as he examined Gray's exposed upper body. He wielded the magic pen, drawing eight distinct abs and two muscular pectoral muscles in a flamboyant style across Gray's flat chest and abdomen.
The lines were fluid, the shadows clear, a prime example of cubist painting.
Finally, he wrote three large characters on Gray's forehead: "Ice Tough Guy."
Done!
Ryoma clapped his hands, brimming with a sense of accomplishment. His gaze wandered around the Guild, finally landing on Erza and Mirajane.
One slept with a heroic posture, the other with a serene beauty.
Ryoma raised the pen in his hand, then lowered it.
Forget it. Drawing on the Queen and the poster girl's faces wasn't a prank, it was suicide. He still wanted to live a few more years.
Just as he was looking for the next "lucky one," Mystogan, who had already torn off a quest sheet, was preparing to leave.
He passed by Ryoma, his footsteps stopping again.
His gaze swept over the turtle on Natsu's face and the abs on Gray's body. Completely wrapped, no expression could be seen on him.
Ryoma's heart skipped a beat, thinking he was about to intervene.
However, Mystogan merely handed the quest sheet to the half-asleep Makarov for a glance, then turned to Ryoma and, with his unique husky voice, said, "Nicely drawn."
After speaking, he turned and walked step by step towards the Guild door.
"Hey! Aren't you going to dispel the sleep magic?" Makarov called out with a hint of drowsiness.
Mystogan did not reply.
As his figure was about to disappear at the doorway, a cold voice drifted back, clearly reaching Ryoma's ears.
"Ten."
Hm?
"Nine."
Ryoma's smile froze on his face.
"Eight."
What the heck? A countdown?
"Seven."
Mystogan! You scoundrel, you don't play fair!
Ryoma looked at the pen in his hand, still glowing with magic, then at the "masterpieces" strewn across the floor, and his scalp instantly tingled.
This magic ink required a special cleaner to wash off.
"Six, five, four..."
The countdown continued, like a death knell.
Ryoma's mind raced.
It's definitely too late to wipe it all off. What to do?
"Three."
Gray's fingers twitched.
"Two."
A snot bubble emerged from Natsu's nostril.
"One."
Makarov's eyes snapped open.
In the instant before everyone woke up, Ryoma made a lightning-fast decision.
With a flick of his wrist, the magic pen, which served as the "weapon," was accurately flicked into a large wooden barrel full of beer nearby.
Gurgle... Gurgle...
A string of bubbles rose, and the magic pen sank to the bottom of the barrel.
Destroying the evidence, all in one go.
As the countdown ended, the sleeping mages suddenly opened their eyes at the same moment.
Makarov's gaze instantly sharpened from blurry. He looked almost immediately at the only conscious person at the "crime scene"—Ryoma.
Ryoma's expression management reached its peak at this moment. His face held just the right amount of bewilderment and innocence, as if he too had just been startled by this sudden awakening and had no idea what had happened.
His heart pounded in his chest.
It worked!
At least the first step, perfectly concealed!
Lucy held her forehead, swaying as she sat up, her vision still a little blurry.
"This feeling... It's Mystogan. He always uses this trick."
Cana let out a big yawn, casually grabbed a nearby beer barrel, and prepared to take a swig to wake herself up.
"Mystogan?" Lucy, still looking drowsy, asked in confusion.
Elfman explained to Lucy, "One of the candidates for Fairy Tail's strongest mage."
"For some reason, he seems not to want anyone to see him, so he always puts everyone to sleep like this when he takes on quests."
At this moment, Happy blinked his big eyes, staring at Natsu's fac. "Huh? Natsu, your face..."
"My face?"
Natsu looked bewildered, subconsciously touching his cheek. "What's wrong with my face?"
He flashed a confident smile, revealing his signature fangs. However, this smile, combined with the "masterpiece" on his face, had a terrifying effect.
"Pfft—hahahahahaha!"
The beer barrel Cana had just raised to her mouth clattered to the floor. She clutched her stomach, tears streaming down her face from laughter.
"Natsu... you... when did you start liking turtles? Hahahaha... and it's quite cute."
Natsu became even more bewildered.
At the same time, Gray on the other side shivered, as if he had noticed something abnormal.
"Hey, what are you laughing at?" Gray frowned.
He looked down, and his pupils suddenly contracted.
What met his eyes was a "painting" of perfectly sculpted eight-pack abs and two muscular pectoral muscles. The fluid lines, the distinct shadows, the powerful visual impact, completely petrified him.
"Wh... what the hell is this?!" Gray's voice changed pitch.
"Oh-ho?"
Macao, who had just woken up, whistled. "Gray, not bad. Haven't seen you in a night, and you've gotten so fit?"
"That's a real man!"
Elfman looked at the "muscles" on Gray's body and gave a thumbs up.
Gray's face instantly turned beet red. He saw three characters faintly reflected on his forehead in the reflection of a nearby beer glass.
"You did this, didn't you?! Slant-Eyes!" Gray roared furiously at Natsu.
"Are you kidding me! Pervert!"
Flames ignited on Natsu's hands, and the turtle on his face seemed to be crawling in anger.
"Wanna fight?!"
"Suits me!"
Ryoma stood aside, watching this classic reenactment, feeling completely calm, even a little amused.
He cleared his throat and stepped forward, pretending to mediate. "Alright, both of you calm down."
He patted Natsu's shoulder, then "accidentally" saw the words on his face and feigned surprise, reading them aloud, "'Idiot'? Gray, this is too much. Drawing a turtle is one thing, but personal attacks?"
Natsu's rage instantly reached MAX.
Then, Ryoma turned to Gray, pointing at the "abs" on his body with a look of profound regret. "Natsu, look at you. Although Gray usually doesn't like to wear clothes, his physique is good. Drawing such exaggerated muscles on him, isn't that mocking him? It's too hurtful to his self-esteem."
Gray's rage also instantly reached MAX.
"Gray! I'm going to roast you to a crisp!"
"Natsu! I'm going to freeze you into an ice sculpture!"
Fire Dragon's Iron Fist!
Ice-Make: Battle Axe!
Boom!
A new day at Fairy Tail once again began with a lively internal conflict.