Jhin's Alternative Color Story??

Aparently this was the german version of Jhin 's color story. I found the translation in necrit discord and thought it would be nice to share.

Be warned this is pretty freaken brutal compare to one we have now.

Edit: :p I suck at formatting since I'm on my phone...

The golden lettering embedded in the black and green metal revealed the name of the blacksmith, which testified to the pride and self-confidence of his Maker.Besides, he was neither decorated nor very noble. He was simply a tool, albeit a flawless one His new employers had been very generous.  They had made sure that every change in design for Jhin was done by master craftsmen.

The modifications had taken a lot of time.But what is an artist without his instrument? The dimensions and precision of the new tool made Jhin's earlier work with blades meaningless.

It took him months to develop his sword fighting techniques and to master the mechanism of the firearm.The gun had room for four cartridges, each made of brass and chemicals.The balls he could only finish when he had seen through the process. Each sphere was provided with magical energy.  Each bullet was as perfect as the blade of a Lassilan monk. Each sphere contained the color that would nourish his art. Every bullet was a masterpiece.  The sample in the mill district had already shown this.  His new client was very pleased with how this work was received.

Jhin slipped the pistol under his cloak as the child approached.

May I have a mask now?The child asked, pointing to the four masks hanging from Jhins car.

Did you do what I asked you to do?

The child nodded.

Then it can start now." Jhin paused for a moment and looked closely at the child's angelic face. It was round and absolutely symmetrical.  Barren and predictable.  By itself, it would make a terrible mask.

Jhin looks over the rest of the town.This guest performance would be wonderful, but there was still so much to do.  Locating Grand Master Raikkons son was only the second step.

III

Jhin was well aware of what he looked like. Usually that would have been reason enough for a fit of self-hatred, but today there was an appearance to deal with.

Khada Jhin today gave a slim, elegant character who walked with a walking stick in the town.He leaned forward and his cloak seemed to conceal a great deformity on his shoulder, but his carefree gait fooled over it.  Before each step, he sat up the stick vigorously. He did this rhythmically - three strokes, then a fourth - and so he announced his presence rather than using the stick as a walker His gold glittered, his cream-colored cloak swirled around his face and his new mask glowed in the sun.

He whistled while walking.  It was the melody of an old workers song that celebrated the beginning of spring. His whistling deviated again and again from the original melody. The dissonant sounds indicated that he was completely elsewhere with his thoughts.

Everything was ready.The child had decorated the tree in the city center with white paper.

Under the pretext of serving a generous elder, Jhin had hired a troop of workers. They had just repaired all the buildings in the square in the middle of the town and painted them in a strong blue-green.The inhabitants of the town prepared a feast to celebrate their unknown patron.

An elegant woman in a pink dress spotted Jhin in the growing crowd with the child.She frowned.

“”Kimmo, ”she exclaimed.

“I told you that my mom is wearing a pink dress” the child said. I told you that my mom is wearing a pink dress," the child said.

"That was really good work," the man said as he strapped the mask closer to his face.

"Kimmo!" The woman shouted as she got nervous and approached them

"Why are you wearing those theater masks?" The child asked, ignoring his mother's calls

"The exaggerated demonstration of emotions is the basis of all art.  Right now this day is above all.  Will someone remember him? Will you remember your mother today? "He asked.

The mother of the child ran to meet them.

"Kimmo, get away from him!" She cried desperately.

The great Khada Jhin pulled out his handgun under his cloak.  The first magic bullet hit the woman's hip, tearing her leg backwards and upwards at the same time.  She screamed as the skin of her legs became solid gold for a moment and she was held in an arabesque shape.

The townspeople and workers on the square turned to see where their screams were coming from.  At the same moment Jhin fired the second shot, which hit her shoulder and made a pirouette.  Out of the wound, a flock of butterflies rose to the sky.

The third shot silenced the city people's alarmed cries.  He whispered the words of a song as he entered her abdomen and she threw the arms of a graceful ballerina straight up.  Then she fell to her knees in front of her son.

"Mama?" Cried the child.

The last shot burst from the barrel of the gun like a beam of pure energy.  The impact tore the woman's body and red drizzle went down to the square.  But her face seemed like porcelain as it fell into the arms of her son.

The city dwellers took their legs in their hands and ran.

Jhin removed the grinning mask he had worn and dropped it to the floor.  She broke under his feet as he approached the child.  Then he put on a tragic mask.

"I gave you something beautiful.  Now you will always remember her, "he said.

Kimmo ran in panic towards the city center towards his father Raikkon, Grand Master of the Bow School of Kinri Mountain.  His clan had fallen out of favor with Jhin's patrons, they had to be taught a lesson.  The details did not interest Jhin much.  The work was what mattered.

The Grand Master was full of ashes and mud.  He had just returned from the mill district in time.  He seemed like a color study for browns.

The townsfolk took the obvious route right between the intense, blue-green buildings.  Raikkon rushed forward and sent arrows through the air, but the wind was not with the noble warrior.

Jhin dodged and disassembled his cane, which now revealed its true purpose.  Then he put this new, longer barrel on the pistol.

This gun was much, much better than a blade.  Jhin saw the child as it ran into the crowd between him and Raikkon.  He would merge the blue-green walls and the brown hero with glorious red.

And Raikkon would be able to absorb all that before his death.

Yes, this staging would be truly great.