Dragged to Another World… and I Took the Goddess with me!

Finn blinked, unsure what kind of punishment awaited him—and honestly, a little terrified.

"Your punishment," Silvara said in the most casual, monotone voice imaginable, "is twenty spankings on the left cheek."

"Heh…?"

"In front of everyone here," she added, as if it were the most natural finishing touch in the world.

"W-WHAT?!" Finn spun around, looking at her in disbelief, then at the crowd to see if he was hallucinating.

But no—everyone else had heard it too. Their expressions were somewhere between horrified curiosity and the face you make when someone says something weirdly specific during confession.

"Who even comes up with this punishment?!" Finn demanded.

"I did," Silvara replied, dead flat.

Finn stared at her like she'd just confessed to being both a robot and a pervert. 'Not only is she mechanical, she's freaky!'

"Now," she continued, unfazed, "lay across my legs and bend forward so I can spank you. In front of all of them."

"NO! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"You either do it now… or later."

Finn's eye twitched. "Do I even get a choice?"

"No."

"…Later then."

Silvara turned her gaze back onto Ardin. He was visibly seething, fists trembling, but he didn't dare move a muscle. He knew one wrong step and it was all over for him.

"I will pretend I didn't see any of this take place today…" Silvara said calmly.

Ardin let out a breath of relief—only for her voice to cut through again like a blade.

"But," she added, her eyes sweeping the entire room, "let this be a warning to you, and to every last person standing here. If you dare lay a hand on Finn Wiggles or any member of his party… you will face consequences so dire, you'll wish you'd died here tonight."

The room fell silent. Every word carried weight, and it only made Ardin's rage boil hotter. His jaw clenched so tight, Finn thought his teeth might shatter.

"I shouldn't need protection," Majestria snapped, as if anyone could possibly disagree. "I'm above that. People should be serving and protecting me."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that just… the same thing? Like, sorta?"

"N-No! It's not!"

"…Yeah it is."

Finn then took a good look at his party—and the sight made him wince. Majestria was battered, covered in divine sweat and still fuming. Lickthorn lay face-down on the wooden floor, twitching like roadkill. Chestelle was stuck in chest-form and hadn't moved an inch, looking like abandoned luggage. Elise looked exhausted but relieved, as though surviving counted as the highlight of her week. And then there was Seraphina—still broken, still staring into nothing.

Finn couldn't help but wonder what would become of her once the dust settled. The thought made his stomach knot.

"At least I get to live," Elise sighed. "But I'm still stuck in this nightmare of a town." She glanced at Finn. "About earlier…"

"What about it?"

"You mentioned the mayor. So did Ardin. Do you… know where he is?"

"That's… a good question." Finn scratched his head and then looked to Silvara. "Do you know where the mayor is?"

"No," she said simply. "But there is a man standing at the doorway who has been staring at us for several minutes now." She side-eyed the door.

Finn whipped his head around—and sure enough, a silhouette loomed in the foggy doorway. A man peeking in, just… watching.

Then it hit Finn. That shape, that posture—it was him. The same weirdo who'd been rubbing those bizarre substances on the town walls earlier.

How did Finn know for sure? Simple. He didn't. It just seemed way too suspicious for a guy to be creeping at the door like that while everyone else was inside.

"That's him!" Finn shouted, pointing dramatically. Without another thought, he sprinted straight at the man.

The figure jolted back, then disappeared into the fog.

But Finn wasn't about to let him vanish that easily.

As Finn jolted, he stretched his arm back, and a thud echoed from outside the building.

Presuming he'd tripped the man, Finn surged forward, adrenaline pumping.

"Finn, where are you going?!" someone shouted behind him. Not knowing who called out to him.

"Catching the culprit!" he yelled, and with that, he leapt out of the guild doors.

***

Through the thick fog, Finn caught sight of the man's figure stumbling, barely regaining balance before darting off into the mist.

He sprinted across the wooden boards—the very foundation of Moistvile. Each step creaked ominously beneath him, threatening to betray his presence.

The fog was heavy, nearly swallowing the man from view, leaving only the faint sound of footsteps to guide Finn. Every squawk of crows above made the chase even more chaotic, forcing him to rely less on hearing and more on the vibrations in the ground to track his target.

Suddenly, the vibrations shifted, changing direction. Finn had no idea where they were leading, but instinct told him to follow.

Half a second later, his torso slammed into a wall with a painful thwack, eliciting a yelp.

Annoyed but undeterred, he thrust his arm out again—tripping the man. Chaos ensued as he himself stumbled over the same figure, sprawling onto the ground.

"Damn it!" Finn grunted, scrambling to his feet, determination burning in his eyes.

As Finn scrambled to his feet, he caught a fleeting glimpse of the man—a dark cloak flaring in the mist—before he vanished from sight.

Suddenly, a wooden bucket flew through the fog, sloshing its contents all over Finn. Thick, sticky goo coated him from head to toe, even seeping into his mouth.

"Ugh—blegh!" Finn gagged, wiping his lips furiously. The substance was revolting, but instead of slowing him down, it only fueled his anger.

Before he could react, another bucket—or maybe just a hefty splash—hit him again, coating him even more and soaking his once-pristine white shirt in a fresh layer of the mysterious goo.

"Bastard!" Finn shouted, thrusting his hand forward with all his might, trying to trip the man and stop him from escaping.

A heavy thud echoed from above. Finn's eyes shot upward.

The man wasn't just ahead—he was on the roof.