Wearing a blue sweater and grey tights, along with a pair of sneakers, Yuriko certainly didn’t paint a picture of a mercenary. She had a backpack on and was finally using her Autovisor after Elsie helped her secure the connections and adjust it to her tastes. It automatically connected to REI-space hubs now and shielded her devices from ads and malware. As far as she knew, anyway. What helped keep things contained was that she was preventing her visor from connecting to her watch, which was the device that was the most secure in the sense that it only connected to REI-space when she needed to create a transaction. Accepting ACs didn’t go through her watch, but through her Autotab, and from there, the Autochreds went straight to the bank, not directly to her account, but the intake one that Gwendith made for all of them.

The visor threw up a heads-up display for her as soon as she entered the darkened room. There was no ante-chamber to the bar, but there was a list of rules and regulations posted on the wall next to the door. As soon as she glanced at it, a REI-space connection formed from the embedded crystal to her visor. Her counter-intrusion software determined it was a simple data packet and allowed the connection to form, just long enough for a copy of the said rules to download, then she shut the connection down before the follow-up viruses could join in. She peered at REI-space for a moment, noting that as always, it was a reflection of the real world, and burned off the few bits of excess data that had wormed its way into her visor.

The next blink brought her consciousness back to the material plane, and she pursed her lips. A sneaky attack right after an all-clear. She could say it was typical, but this region was the first place she encountered a systematic usage of the other layers of reality, even if it wasn’t a main layer, but a carefully curated sub-layer. She still had no idea who actually made it, or maintained it, but she supposed the ‘Great God Autochron’ could be credited. She could certainly feel its touch whenever she reflexively tried to anchor her Anima into the canvas of reality.

The rules were rather simple. You break it, you pay for it. Make a mess and clean it up, or pay to clean it up. No shooting.

That was about it, and the rest of the document was filled with past precedents and exceptions. At the tag end was a small amendment that gave bounty hunters registered to their own version of AG’s app a 20% discount at the bar. Tempting, she was sure.

Many patrons turned their gaze towards her when she entered, and she let a calming smile appear on her face instead of her usual stoic expression. She also let her Mien back up the emotion she wanted to spread, Serenity.

Just a little bit though, since the influence she spread ran counter to many of the patrons’ natural disposition, and already, a few were looking at her with narrowed gazes filled with suspicion.

Humming to herself, she wandered over to the actual bar. Her hair was back in a high ponytail, her sweater’s hem covered her hip, and she had a wide, faux leather belt over her waist that sported her holstered Defender. Her belt knife had ended up with Matsumi, of course, but she bought another melee weapon just for show. It was a straight sword rather than the more popular curved, slashing sword that the locals seemed to like. She’d looked at all of the offerings inside a store called Blades ‘n’ Swords, and the straight sword was the one she liked the most. None looked like a sideblade, but this was close enough. The locals preferred a sword called a katana, which had an organic curve and a single edge. The tip was sharp enough to use to thrust, however, and the crossguard was a simple oval barely an inch wide. Admittedly, it looked quite dashing, especially when she watched videos of practitioners, but her own style was better suited to the balanced sword.

“What can I get you, toots?” The bartender, an older man with a single ‘chronian eye, asked. A bit rudely, Yuriko thought, but perhaps it was simply the culture here. No, it was the culture in Junktown. There had not been an afternoon where she spent walking around the place when she had not been catcalled or propositioned. Not that it was unique to her, either. Other women were treated the same, and when the men pushed and the girls didn’t like it, blood was shed. Hmm, come to think of it, she wasn’t sure if all the catcallers were men.

“What do you have?” Yuriko asked with a raised eyebrow, “What’s your strongest?”

“You sure about that?” the bartender asked, hesitant, “You look a bit young.”

“I’m older than I look,” Yuriko said with a wink. Her features had not changed much from what she looked like when she Actualised at fifteen, but refining her physique had filled her out anyway. Now if only her hormones didn’t rage unless she actively controlled them…

“Daemonfyre whiskey,” the bartender said, “I’ve got a couple of bottles left. Three grand for a shot.”

“Is it worth it?” Yuriko asked.

“Well, it’ll burn your throat all the way down, but it’ll warm you up for a long, long while,” Bartender said gruffly while his mechanical eye glinted.

“Sure, give me a pop,” Yuriko agreed, then sent a command prompt to her watch using the visor. The bartender sent her a bill, and she paid for it.

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“Your funeral,” the man said as he went towards the back, towards an alcohol safe. He unlocked it with precise movements, then pulled out a bottle that was just big enough to contain a half Ren of liquid. “Do you want it straight or mixed?”

“How would you take it?”

“First time’s better undiluted. A drop of pure water would be good, but that costs extra.”

“I have some with me,” Yuriko said.

“Do you, now? Hmm.” He shook his head and pulled out a shot glass from underneath the counter. He twisted the cap open and carefully poured a measure into the glass, then placed it in front of her. The whiskey was a light gold, but there were flecks of silver and red floating within it. She reached for her hip satchel and withdrew her condenser canteen, added a single droplet of distilled water into the shot glass and watched the liquid swirl. The movement, though not clear to a mortal eye, stood out to her perception. Her Anima could touch the whiskey, and even that act brought a moment of intoxication. Interesting.

She didn’t move to drink it just yet, instead, she brought it up to her nose to take in the scent. It did burn, but underneath were flavour notes that were vibrant and quite distracting. She lowered the glass and looked at the bartender, who was in turn, staring expectantly at her. Quite a few of the patrons were, actually. Expectant looks veiling burgeoning amusement and their emotions leaked into her mind. Anticipation, indeed, and most were looking forward to her upcoming drunken foolishness. More than a few carried malicious thoughts, though they were idle.

With a smile, she tossed the drink into her mouth, swirled it under her tongue, and then swallowed. The heat was…pleasant, though she realised it would have burned anyone else. Not to the point of crippling injury, but it was unlikely they’d be able to speak soon afterwards. The fire collected into her tummy before spreading wonderfully into her core. It had concentrated bits of Chaos, as well as other energies that were somehow familiar. She frowned at that, wondering where it came from. Or was it all in the name? Daemonfyre.

Were those not the things that invaded them in Karcellia? This was further proof that they were not mere brutes, though she had believed their pleas for freedom. What manner of prison realm did they live in, she wondered.

“Delicious,” she said, her voice suddenly sultry. Oops.

The taste, the alcohol, and the heady, pleasurable feeling had loosened her control over her Mien enough that her natural Charm had seeped through. And with the whiskey’s effects swirling around in her veins, she wasn’t of the mind to rein it in.

The bartender’s eyes glazed slightly, and a goofy grin adorned his face. The ones around her took on the same countenance, at least until she sent a pulse through the new connections. Look but don’t touch.

She split off part of her consciousness streams to simply enjoy the effect of the liquor, while the rest of her returned to the present. She returned the shot glass to the bar and leaned over it. Her cheeks were somewhat flushed, but she was in full control of her faculties.

“So…” she breathed, “I’m actually looking for something else.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Some of the bartender’s senses returned to his eyes. “Well, you bought a drink, got it down without acting the fool, so, welcome to Kansaki.”

“Thank you.” Yuriko smiled. “I’m actually interested in a bit of history. A couple of years ago, a little girl had been the victim of a Dragon Blooded kidnapping, and she was rescued by bounty hunters. She lost both arms and her legs below her knees. I’d like to know who rescued her, and if they can tell me more about the Dragon Blooded.”

“Do you want to know about those cursed fools or about the girl’s fate?”

“I’ve met the girl,” Yuriko said, “while I wouldn’t mind learning of her family’s fate…”

“Dead, in the best case.” The bartender’s face was grim, “And in the worst, alive.”

“What do you mean?” Yuriko asked slowly, before her thoughts swirled around the Scourge and what Elsie told her as she shot at the stricken victim. “They turned?”

“Yes. The Dragon Blooded…they’re not merely humanoid Scourge. No, those who become stricken by the Scourge become Scourge. But there’s a tiny fraction who become Dragon Blooded.”

“They retain their sentience,” Yuriko asked.

“Sapience, yes.” The bartender snorted while giving her a knowing look. Yuriko rolled her eyes. “But they are irrevocably changed. They’re mad, but they can control themselves.”

“And they seek to spread their kind?” Yuriko guessed.

“Yes. There’s not a man or woman here in Kansaki who hasn’t lost someone to those lunatics.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“If we did, then it would have long been wiped out.” The bartender took a glass tumbler and filled it with foamy ale, then slid it across the bar to her. “On the house.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t touch the ale just yet, still savouring the whiskey’s aftertaste.

“They are scattered, I assume. Or do they have an organisation hidden beneath plain sight?”

“Who knows? Other than their mad need to make more of themselves, nobody really knows what they want.”

“I see. Can you give me their information?”

“You’d have to become a bounty hunter to get it,” the bartender said, but he fiddled with something, and a moment later, a message arrived in her visor. “There’s a link if you want to apply. Only those who can take care of themselves should join. You’re far too beautiful to die.”

“Oh, thanks,” Yuriko said offhandedly. She poked at the message and it opened a page that was labeled, Hunterzone.net. She nursed the tumbler of beer, it wasn’t as bitter as other brews, though there was still that aftertaste she didn’t like, as she browsed the information she had. She didn’t really want to join another organisation, but the public knowledge could be useful.

Hmmm, look at that, there is a clue. Most abductions happen in Junktown or the outskirts. Perhaps it was time to leave the urban area and explore the countryside. All she was doing was wandering around looking for the passage to delve or climb anyway.

Once she finished her brew, she stood to leave, and it was only when she was outside did she realise why the daemonfyre whiskey’s effect felt so familiar, aside from the daemons she encountered anyway. She sat down on her bike and closed her eyes, then propelled herself to the dream.

The severed thread that represented Kato… at the edges, there was that same feel. Red and silver flakes. The halo of gold had been obscured by her own Radiance.

But…what did daemons have to do with her brother?