The Archer stood before me, dressed in a cloak of dark blue velvet with a hood casting shadows over his features. His trousers were full of pockets and his boots, both dark green, were large and sturdy.

His bow was lowered, and he was speaking in a friendly tone. There was no hostility in his demeanor.

"You came to kill me?" I asked with a calm voice.

His laughter rang out. "I can see why you'd think that, but no, you can rest easy," he responded.

"So, to capture me, then?" I shot back instantly.

He scratched his head, considering his words. "Well, there is a bounty on your head. It's substantial. Substantial enough to stir the headhunters from the East. It's safe to assume that they would want to capture you," he elaborated.

To my left, Yav began to murmur, "This is bad news... Damn. You can't die, not yet."

His panic was ironic, considering his earlier sermon about death and our special status.

"What if I simply surrender? No need for a fight then, right?" I suggested, attempting to sound as innocent as possible.

My only shot was the element of surprise, and now I had my remotely controlled chains.

"So you could ensnare me in your chains as I come closer? No, thanks. I already said I'm not here for a fight," he retorted.

His cautiousness was troubling. Worse still, despite the difference in our levels, he didn't underestimate me.

"So, what do you want?" I questioned.

"Before I answer that, let me introduce myself. I'm Barav, a bounty hunter from this region."

"Pleasure," I said, growing impatient with his roundabout explanations.

Was he trying to buy time? Did he have allies lying in wait to ambush me?

I began scanning my surroundings, a motion that didn't escape the Archer's notice.

"I'm alone. I'm merely here to warn you about what's coming," he assured me.

"Warn me about what?"

"About the Merchant King, the one who placed the contract on your head. He's a powerful warlord here, operating his Dweller cult from a small village to the North. You've destroyed something valuable to him, and he won't let it go," Barav detailed.

"Okay... But if the bounty is so lucrative, why not just capture me and claim it?" I challenged.

"Because I want that Merchant dead as well. We share a common enemy," he stated.

Yav, who had been overlooked until now, found his voice again, full of renewed vigor: "Yes. Yes. Yes! This could work. If he's telling the truth, we have a chance," he declared.

Then he moved closer to me and whispered into my ear as if Barav could hear him: "But if you get the chance, kill him. We can't trust him," he warned.

This ghost was dangerous.

"What did this Merchant do to you?" I asked the Archer, driven by curiosity.

"That's not for you to know. I'm not here to make friends. I just came to give you information that might help you survive. Consider it a token of sympathy for what you did to the Merchant," he clarified.

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I disliked where I was standing. The list of enemies was growing, and so were my fake allies. I yearned for my old life of theft and base building. Was that too much to ask?

"Thanks for the heads up. But if you want the Merchant dead, it shouldn't be too hard for you, should it?" I pressed.

"What do you mean?" he replied.

"His guardians don't seem particularly strong, and most people there are at a fairly low level. What's stopping you from putting an arrow through the Merchant's eye?" I attempted to understand how this recluse ruling from his arboreal throne could still be alive if he was so infamous.

"The guardians? They're not the issue. The sentinels, maybe a bit. But the real obstacle is the Merchant King himself," the Archer admitted.

He began tracing lines on the ground with his bow, appearing lost in thought. Then he continued: "That cursed Merchant, the last time I saw him, he was level 92," he mumbled.

For a moment, my heart skipped a beat.

"Level 92? I've never heard of such a high level around here," Yav mumbled, his tone one of disbelief.

His level seemed absurd, but it explained the enormous amount of Turcos disappearing from their stock. This Merchant was a big fish in a small pond, consuming resources voraciously.

I remained silent, perplexed by the situation. How could one possibly escape such a powerful player?

"How do you know so much about the village?" the Archer inquired.

I didn’t like that question. If I admitted that I had been a slave there, I would also have to confess to my death. Speaking about the conditions required to become enlightened was out of the question.

"Let's just say I've had my share of trouble with them," I responded evasively. He nodded, asking no further questions. I was relieved that he didn't pry further.

He then pointed at the ground and said, "If you want to survive, it might be a good idea to cover your tracks. Following you here was as easy as tracking a Boreal Bear."

I didn't know what kind of creature a Boreal Bear was, but he was right. I hadn't made any attempts to conceal my tracks.

"Don't worry, I've obscured your tracks from the dungeon. That's where the bounty starts, so bounty hunters will begin their search from there. Well, until new information about your whereabouts is shared," he explained.

"Do you have any idea how I can shake this bounty?" I asked.

"Kill the Merchant King. There's no other way," he replied, shrugging indifferently.

"Is there no place to escape to? Even to the East?" I asked without a clear understanding of what lay in that direction.

"Heading East before reaching level 50 is too risky. However, one good survival strategy might be to seek protection from high-level players, who are usually located in the East. It might be your best shot," he suggested, gesturing with his gloved hands.

I glanced at Yav. He had his thumb and index finger on his forehead, presumably forming a plan.

There was something comforting about having him by my side. He had as much stake in my survival as I did.

"Well, mission accomplished. I've warned you about the danger. Now, I'll take my leave. Good luck," said the Archer, as he shouldered his bow and retraced his steps towards the North.

I watched him depart.

"So, he shot at me even though he knew who I was?" I asked Yav in a low voice, my gaze still fixed on the departing Archer.

"I told you, he was assessing your mental state. It's not uncommon for half-Drifters to have a bounty on their heads," he explained.

I turned to Yav. "We're in a tough spot. Do you have any ideas?" I asked him.

He gazed up at the sky. "I've only just emerged from my hole, and you're already in mortal danger. There's never a quiet moment," he complained.

"I asked if you had a plan, not whether you're enjoying the situation," I retorted.

"Let's head back to your base; we're not safe here. We can discuss further while we're on the move," he suggested.

He was right, we needed to get moving.

I started walking, adjusting my chains to walk comfortably.

I was barefoot, my trousers were practically ruined, and my jacket was in a similar state.

The only merchants I knew wouldn't be welcoming, so I had to find another player to rob in the meantime.

"What's your relationship with the Merchant King?" Yav asked.

"I was his slave. I died there and was resurrected as an enlightened one," I explained briefly.

"Damn," he said simply.

At that moment, I remembered what Yav had promised me upon exiting the dungeon.

"Hey, where are those equipment you mentioned? The ones from your team?" I asked. Finally, something to look forward to.

He looked at me, still floating slightly above the ground. His eyes were empty, then suddenly lit up.

"Of course, that's it! I might just have a way to get us out of this mess!" he exclaimed.