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Gun man: Neo Austin
Chapter 3: Death’s Door

Chapter 3: Death’s Door

The dim, flickering lights of Sharry Banks’ apartment gave it an unsettling atmosphere. Freiheit sat on a worn-out couch, his revolvers resting on the coffee table in front of him. He leaned back, staring at the peeling ceiling paint as he replayed the events of the last two days in his mind.

His family was gone, his home was ash, and now he was living with strangers who called themselves outlaws. He didn’t trust them, but he needed a place to stay, at least until he could figure out his next move.

“Hey, Frei,” Sharry said, her voice lilting as she walked into the room. She wore a tank top and cargo pants, her twin machine guns slung lazily over her shoulders. “You settling in okay?”

Freiheit shrugged without looking at her. “It’s fine.”

Sharry dropped down onto the couch next to him, closer than necessary, and grinned. “Y’know, you could at least pretend to be grateful. Not every stray gets to crash at my place.”

“I didn’t ask to crash at your place,” Freiheit muttered, his tone flat.

Her grin widened, undeterred. “Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine? So serious all the time. Lighten up, Frei. You’re with us now. We’re not so bad.”

“I’m not staying,” he said sharply, finally meeting her gaze.

“Sure, sure,” she replied, waving a hand dismissively. “Let me guess—you’re gonna take your magic guns and march out into the world to get your revenge on the government or whatever?”

Freiheit’s jaw tightened. “Something like that.”

Sharry leaned in, resting her elbow on the back of the couch and propping her chin on her hand. “You’re cute when you’re all broody,” she teased, her green eyes glinting with amusement.

He frowned, standing up abruptly. “I’m going to bed.”

“Aw, don’t go. I was just starting to have fun,” she called after him, but he was already walking toward the small guest room Nate had given him.

The next morning, Freiheit stood in the Junkers’ garage, waiting as Nate and Jenny went over the day’s plan. Harry was busy tinkering with an old hovercar in the corner, and Sharry leaned against a wall, tossing a wrench up and down.

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“We’re taking you to meet JKD today,” Nate said, looking at Freiheit. “He’s our jobber—gets us contracts, bounties, and anything else we need to keep this operation running.”

“And why do I need to meet him?” Freiheit asked, crossing his arms.

“Because if you’re gonna stick around, you need to pull your weight,” Nate replied, his tone firm. “And JKD’s gonna want to see if you’re worth the trouble.”

Jenny smirked. “Don’t worry. JKD’s harmless. Just… don’t piss him off.”

The group piled into a rusty hovervan and made their way across Neo Austin to the industrial outskirts. The city gave way to a sprawling wasteland of warehouses, scrapyards, and crumbling buildings.

JKD’s “office” was an abandoned factory, the neon sign outside barely clinging to life. Inside, the air reeked of oil and sweat. Freiheit followed Nate and the others into the main room, where a skinny man with a massive red mohawk was lounging on a couch, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Junkers,” JKD said with a wide grin, standing up and spreading his arms. “Always a pleasure. And who’s this?” His eyes landed on Freiheit, and his grin turned into a sneer. “This the new guy?”

“Freiheit,” Nate said, gesturing toward him. “He’s with us now.”

JKD sauntered over, looking Freiheit up and down. “Hmph. Doesn’t look like much.”

Freiheit glared at him. “I didn’t come here to impress you.”

JKD barked out a laugh. “Oh, we’ve got a tough guy, huh?” He grabbed Freiheit by the collar and lifted him off the ground effortlessly. “You talk big, kid, but can you back it up?”

“Put me down,” Freiheit growled, his hand going to one of his revolvers.

“Or what?” JKD taunted, smirking.

Freiheit pulled the revolver and pressed it against JKD’s chin. His voice was ice-cold as he said, “Or I’ll show you exactly what I can do.”

The room went silent. Nate and the others exchanged uneasy glances, and for a moment, JKD’s grin faltered.

“Alright, alright,” JKD said, setting Freiheit down and stepping back. “No need to get trigger-happy.”

Freiheit holstered his revolver, his glare never wavering.

“Fine,” JKD said, rolling his shoulders. “If you want to prove yourself, I’ve got a job for you. There’s a guy out in the Desert District—name’s Jean Mean. He’s been causing problems for one of my clients. You take him out, and maybe I’ll stop calling you a pussy.”

“Jean Mean?” Freiheit repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t let the name fool you,” JKD said. “The guy’s dangerous. But if you’re half as tough as you think you are, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Freiheit looked at Nate. “You expect me to do this alone?”

Nate shrugged. “It’s your test. You’re on your own.”

Freiheit clenched his fists, his mind racing. He didn’t like being ordered around, but he couldn’t back down now—not after everything that had happened.

“Fine,” he said finally. “I’ll do it.”

JKD’s grin returned. “Good. Try not to die, kid.”

As the Junkers led him back to the van, Sharry walked beside him, her expression unusually serious. “Be careful out there, Frei,” she said quietly. “The Desert District’s no joke.”

“I’ll manage,” he replied, his voice hard.

She frowned but said nothing more as they climbed into the van.

As the van rumbled back toward the city, Freiheit stared out the window, his grip tight on the revolvers in his lap. He didn’t know who Jean Mean was, but it didn’t matter. This was just another step toward his ultimate goal.

To be continued.