The next dozen or so loops ran similarly, as was the general tend for time loops. It was all about repetition and memorization. However, unlike most people in those films, they didn't have months or years to waste memorizing people's routines down to the second.

Instead the repition was used for experimentation, although some of them were quite cruel, as they took a few days to understand what was consistent and what was not.

The people, for instance, were always consistent. Same patterns, same responses to questions, same day that they were living. They seemed to have no memory of anything before and were living it like their first every single time.

They always believed that Scar's group were cosplayers. Even when they didn't offer the excuse up themselves and instead offered the truth to them, hoping to trigger some lost memories. It seemed that in their search for answers, these people would only accept the answers that made sense to them.

When they heard the truth of the world, they would simply laugh it off as cosplayers getting too involved in their role-playing and telling them the details of whatever fantasy world they were supposed to come from.

After all, were they really supposed to believe that there were Dragons and spaceships, or that some old god was an alien from thousands of years ago? Weren't they supposed to be fantasy cosplayers? It sounded more like a strange sci-fi story.

As they discovered before, this memory loss and inability to know anything further than October 21st, made discovering oddities within the town quite difficult. But not entirely impossible. There were small hints, clues that they only found after a week of searching.

Although, as far as they could tell, there were no people missing. The same could not be said for pets. Some were walking around as normal, but on multiple occasions in the loop they had noticed at least twenty different missing pet posters being stuck around the town.

Naturally they asked about them and realised that while a few of them were genuine, cats leaving through the front door a few days ago and never returning, others were much more mysterious.

According to those pet owners, they had simply vanished as if by magic. Birds from their cages, dogs from their beds and even a few fish from their tanks. The owners had simply gone to bed 'last night' in their minds and woken up the next day to find them completely gone without a trace.

That was a strange inconsistency that stuck out to them.

Another inconsistency was the ghost pirates, funnily enough. While they did attack every night, and always arrived in the same way. It was never the exact same gang of undead apparitions. Some of their members were swapped their positions seemingly at random, while they always attacked in slightly different ways regardless of interference from Scar's group.

In case you were wondering... Yes. There was a single day that they did not interfere with the pirate's invasion. It killed them to do so, to simply let them slaughter people indiscriminately with such malicious and sadistic glee.

But they needed to understand the resurrection. At least that is what he claimed, yet despite the bloodshed he learned nothing. He simply watched countless innocents die and have their souls claimed by the pirates, all for nothing.

The Loop after that, he purged the ghosts from existence before they could even make shore. He didn't play with his food that day, simply wiped them out completely and forced the survivors to retreat, but not without chasing them down.

Yet he still felt dreadful about it afterwards.

Even though they were walking around next to him the very next day, chatting and smiling as if nothing had happened. It still ate him up inside, his stomach twisting itself into a knot before digging an endless pit within itself.

A pit that he decided to try fill with alcohol. It didn't work. No matter how much he drank, his Celestial constitution couldn't help but eagerly purge the poison from his system before he could feel so much as a slight buzz.

Yet even still Scar sat in the bar, tracing his finger around the rim of his glass as he considered if he would be stuck here for the rest of his life. He had just wanted to do something nice, before he did the mission he existed for.

But he really couldn't even do that properly. Instead he led everyone into some infinite hell of slaughter, and couldn't fulfil his purpose no matter how hard he tried. All he was, was a poor imitation of the original.

A worthless copy that couldn't carry out the simplest of tasks.

Scar let out a deep sigh, tilting his mask up and gulping down the entire pint of beer, which just tasted like starchy water as it glided down his throat. It didn't even have the slightest burn as he swallowed it. What was even the point?

He could feel the strangers in the bar staring at him, either for his ability to down drinks so fast and easily, or simply for his strange dress. However his senses, still sharp as ever and not the slightest but dulled by the mortal swill, directed him towards one particular individual.

Like all the others, he was staring at Scar. Yet this man was staring at him not with curiosity or amusement, but with anxiety and worry. He could feel the air of guilt hanging over his head like a dark cloud, somehow even darker than Scar's own.

Looking at him, he seemed like nothing special. He had no mystical or standoutish traits. In Scar's eyes, he was someone who would simply blend into the background for his entire life.

He had brown hair, ruffled into a mess from running his hands through it while drunk, and a dried trail of drool across his cheek from when he must have fallen asleep. His body was completely average, the right amount of skinny without any real muscles or even a slight beer belly, and his face was even less so.

With a weak chin, a small nose and brown eyes, he wasn't entirely unattractive but he wasn't a head turner either. He was, in essence, the ideal person for a casting director who wanted to fill a crowd shot. Like he existed to simply be part of the background, like wallpaper or an odd decoration that one of your relatives bought you from a vacation.

If it wasn't for the way he was looking at him, Scar would have never noticed the man. He might as well been a fly on the wall.

Seemingly in response to Scar's attention being drawn to him, the man stood from his chair and wobbled over to Scar. He wrapped his arm around his shoulder and practically fell as he leaned in close.

"Your type doesn't belong here. So, I would get out of here tonight, If I were you buddy. Trust me, you don't want to be here when it gets dark."

The man's breath absolutely reeked of booze, which was entirely expected since he was completely drunk in a tiny bar, during the middle of the day. Only the truly miserable did such things, or those who didn't have anything better to do.

It sounded like the man was trying to threaten him, yet Scar narrowed his eyes at the wording of his 'threat.'

People like him... Was he supposed to be referring to a cosplayer or some kind of hatred for the mask? Or was it something more?

As the man tried to waddle away, Scar quickly grabbed his arm and dragged him back, squeezing the man's wrist tight enough to fracture the bones. He stared into the drunkards eyes, a hint of anger and frustration pouring off of him, more than enough to create a suffocating air that affected all of the bars mortal patrons.

"Who are you? What do you mean about tonight? Tell me!"

The drunk winced at the pain in his wrist, but let out a laugh a second later.

"You're strong buddy. Too strong. You should use those strong legs and get the hell out now, otherwise you'll never leave.

Don't worry about us, we're all doomed anyways. Just run as far as you can, don't use that strength for anything else. Otherwise you'll end up like the other ones, stupid bastards... I told them the same thing but they wanted to help. Pfft... Help."

He laughed heartily, as if he had heard the most hilarious joke in the world, before hiccuping a few times and snatching a nearby drink from another patron. One of his hands was still held by Scar, but the other was free to grab glasses and guzzle their contents without repreive.

Scar watched the man in utter bafflement, but still picked up on the important details within his drunk ramblings.

He smacked the latest drink out of the drunks hand, causing him to pout and whine about the spilled beer, before Scar shook him violently in an attempt to sober him up.

"Others? What others? Tell me what you know! Tell me about the loop!"

The drunk frowned softly, his mouth hanging open as his poisoned brain searched for the right words. But what spewed from his mouth was not answers.

Scar shoved the drunk away as he vomited all over him, covering his chest with chunks of bile and covering the floor with it. The drunk unfortunately stumbled back, his feet slipping on his own vomit.

Scar was too concerned with the retched retch covering his chest to catch him, as the drunk slipped backwards and cracked his head on the edge of a table.

His body crumbled to the floor, as blood started to mix with the puddle of bile he was already laying in. Looking between his puke covered chest and the dead man on the floor, Scar let out a heavy sigh.

"Just wonderful..."

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