“Yikes.”

Chase chuckled, then winced as the bandage on his face shifted. It was there to stop contaminants getting into the wound on his cheek. Apparently, the gap was about the size of a 50-cent-piece, positioned right around his molars and what used to be his wisdom teeth.

“That bad?” he asked.

Jamie sat nearby, reading a paperback. He’d put it down to catch a glimpse at the next patient being rolled in.

“Wasn’t talking about you,” he said. “There’s an old cobber just come in with a screwdriver in his thigh. You’re good, man.”

“Mm. Then why are they keeping me?”

The A-Rank sighed. “I’ve actually told you this already. They have to monitor you in case of a concussion, which I think it’s pretty clear you have. And don’t get snarky about it — these guys sewed your mouth back on. They took some skin from your thigh and transplanted it to your face.” He smirked, like he was suppressing laughter. “I read about it online, apparently they take the skin from right near your balls. It’s got the best chance of grafting properly.”

Chase deflated, sinking back into the mound of hospital pillows. They were so flat and lifeless that he had to stack up about ten of them to support his back. “Dang. Am I gonna grow pubes on my cheek?”

Jamie shrugged. “Better than the sad excuse for a beard you’ve got growing now.”

Chase groaned as he tried to sort through the predicament. Two issues lay front and centre in his mind. The concussion was making him forget other things (or so Jamie said), but these two burned bright, like a blazing beacon atop a lonely hill.

Gramps is going to be pissed. And I’ve just fucked up Ballistic’s reputation.

A third, more urgent concern flashed by. He placed a hand to his waist, knowing he would be disappointed but praying for a piece of good luck anyway.

“Jamie, where’s my gun? And the mags? If anyone took them and handed them in…my serial number and—”

“Chill, dude. I got everything and gave it to Marcus and Mia. You should give them a bonus — they carried your ass out like you were made of fairy floss.”

Chase silently thanked the Hunters and promised to get them a thankyou gift. When he registered the Guild, they were included only for the purpose of filling up numbers. Now that they’d taken part in saving his life, he really hoped they’d stay on with Ballistic for a long time.

“Thanks. That’s good. I’m really sorry I rushed out like that.”

The Hunter shook his head, flicking through the pages of his novel like a flipbook.

“Yeah, well, that’s how this shit goes, I guess. Lesson learned. Promise me one thing, though?”

Chase looked up. “What’s that?”

“Get yourself some goddamn armour.”

*******

Despite their Leader’s close call, the Haulers had done a great job cleaning up the aftermath of the Raid. Combined with the profits from the rest of the week, the Guild Treasury was looking extremely healthy. Once he was back home that night (no ‘Hauling’ work or strenuous activity for twelve days, according to the doctors), Chase was ready to honour Jamie’s requests.

For starters, he opened the Exchange and asked Enro to find him some decent shields for Marcus and Mia. Jamie had suggested a box of chocolates for each of them, but Chase felt like going the extra mile. After all, it was his life they’d helped save. Jamie didn’t understand the fear he’d felt in that moment. The knowledge that his one stupid mistake might cost him everything.

{I have found two shields that suit your purposes.}

If Kim had been right about one thing, it was that he had been severely underestimating the usefulness of the System Relay. He could no longer deny that having Enro scour the market was a lot quicker and easier than doing it himself.

“Watcha got?”

{An ‘Energy Sequestering Kite Shield (Grade B)’ and a ‘Reactant Propulsion Pavés (Grade A)’. They are…within your budget.}

“Give it to me straight, boss.”

{The items are 1,500 Credits and 1,600 Credits, respectively.}

Chase whistled. “That’s the way it goes, I suppose. I hope they don’t think it’s hush money.”

Dropping thirty-one hundred Credits on two items would put some serious bite-marks in the Guild Treasury, but it was worth it. An investment in his and the other Hunters continued safety.

That left a reasonable amount leftover to purchase armour for himself. There was the option to buy something straight through the Exchange — the item listing had to include key measurements of the armour such as the waist, hips, neck and bust — but Chase didn’t know his own sizes. It would be awkward if he made a significant purchase then found out that his fancy new armour was built for someone who wasn’t shaped like a rectangle.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Plus, he’d heard some unfortunate tales about using the Exchange to go armour shopping. His favourite was about a Hunter who thought they’d found the steal of the century — a wildly under-priced set of plate armour with Stat buffs par surpassing the Hunter’s current garb. They’d swept it up without a second thought, only to put it on and discover its one debilitating drawback — upon wearing the armour, the owner would have the constant feeling of thousands of ants crawling over his or her skin.

That was why Chase favoured the ‘try-before-you-buy’ approach.

The next morning, Chase got dressed and went out to the kitchen to make breakfast. Gramps was sitting at the table, eating porridge and doing the crossword. When they moved to Three City, the first thing Chase had to organise for him was to change the delivery address on his newspaper delivery. He was one of a handful of people who still got a hardcopy of the New Melbourne Times.

“Five-letter word,” Gramps said. “Clue is ‘quickly forgotten’. Ideas?”

“Yeah, I guess that works.”

“No, dumbass. Not ‘ideas’ the word, I’m asking you for ideas. Starts with D, if I got the other one right.”

“Oh.” Chase leaned on the bench and thought. “Dream?”

Gramps looked up, nodding approval. “Not bad, not bad at a— what are you wearing? Committing a robbery? And what’s with the bandage?”

Chase laughed. The fit didn’t jibe with his usual style, but where he was going, he didn’t want to be noticed. He wore black jeans, a black t-shirt, a cap pulled low on his head and a pair of aviator sunglasses that kept trying to slip off his nose.

“I’m going for the ‘celebrity who doesn’t want paparazzi to see their face’ look. And I got hurt in a Raid. Nothing serious, just a little scratch.”

Gramps looked suspicious. Once Chase had gotten old enough to make his own way in the world, the old man stepped back and let him work it out for himself. Now, some of the old protectiveness was coming back. “Is paparazzi an issue for you? And bullshit on the little scratch — you’re wrapped up like an Egyptian mummy!”

Chase waved him off. “It’s alright, trust me. And no, I’m not famous all of a sudden. Just going to a place where there’s going to be cameras and gossip-writers fighting over scraps. I’ll be fine.”

The old man grumbled. “Right. Well be safe. Takes me forever to change the oxygen by myself, you know.”

“I got you covered, Gramps. I’ll be back later, okay?”

He grunted in reply. The crossword was all-consuming.

*******

For the first time in a while, Chase caught the train to One City. The last time he’d been here was for a Majesty Raid, and in that short time, the city had undergone an identity crisis. What was once pristine, white buildings and organised, spotless sidewalks had been replaced by splashes of every colour imaginable and a chaotic, almost blinding array of distractions. Great banners hovered over the streets, intricate designs of animals and flowers hand-woven into each. The aftermath of confetti cannons littered the ground, hundreds of little papery pieces clinging to the sidewalk, defying the city-sweeping machines. On his left, a building had thick globs of blue, white and purple paint dribbling down its side, as if someone had dumped three tins of paint off the roof and called it a day.

The city of clean luxury was now an exciting hive of enamour and activity.

On the way to his destination, he finally found an explanation. Stuck to the side of a brick building was a paper sign. Its edges were frayed, and the colours had faded with time and the effects of rainfall. But in the middle was a familiar face — a red and gold lion from one of the banners.

‘Festival of the Divine’, it read. There were dates and times provided, of which Chase had missed all of them. The current state of the city was the last vestiges of this year’s festival.

Feeling satisfied and a little overwhelmed by the way the nearly foreign streets, he strode to the Palais de la Panoplie, widely renowned as having the largest collection of armour, weaponry, and other Hunter-related trinkets in all of Australia. This time of day was when traffic peaked in the store — throngs of Hunters finished their Raids early in the morning then flooded to the Palace to correct some inefficiency they found during that day’s carnage. For those S-Ranks and Ultras with money to burn, it was more about fashion. To be seen wearing the same armour more than once was an unnecessary embarrassment.

Inside, Chase was buffeted by the usual onslaught of One City amenities and hospitality. Perhaps assisted by his mysterious attire, a staff member brought him a tray of champagne glasses and a smaller plate of tiny hors d’oeuvres. They were so miniscule that he could’ve fit eight in his mouth at once without much strain. He took a delicate tart filled with a sliver of sashimi and a tangy mustard dressing. Washing it down with champagne felt wrong, especially at nine o’clock in the morning.

When he stepped through the store into the actual viewing area, a well-dressed tailor approached. He wore a black suit jacket over a plain white shirt, a thin silver necklace falling to around his sternum. His haircut looked like it might’ve cost more than Chase’s whole outfit.

“Good morning, sir. May I help you?”

Chase tried to sound confident. A touch of pompousness would be ideal, but he wasn’t going to push his luck. “You may. I’m looking for some armour — I’d like to focus on Physical and Magical Defence, as well as Speed, and I don’t care at all for Magical Affinity or Strength. Would you have that?”

“It’s an interesting combination of desires,” the tailor replied. “Most of our inventory would solve one or two of those problems. Counter-balancing an affinity, if you will.”

Chase arched an eyebrow. “So you can’t help me?”

“Oh, no-no, my apologies, sir. We absolutely can help — the constraints may just reduce the number of options.” He paused, before adding: “And increase the price.”

Ah, shit.

He followed the tailor to a separate room. Here, a train of mannequins flew by wearing all manner of armour sets. In a bizarre display of engineering prowess, they began sorting themselves in accordance with the constraints that the tailor typed into his tablet. There were helmets with curved horns, pauldrons with spikes as long and thin as chopsticks, even greaves that dripped with magical energy.

Chase was seated in a comfy cream armchair, sparkling water and more culinary delights at his side. He felt bad for capitalising on the free food, but then realised that was probably the intention. A customer who feels indebted will undoubtedly shell out more Credits.

At last, the train of mannequins slowed. The tailor presented the seven remaining options like a detective presenting a witness with a line-up of suspects. None of the mannequins displayed price tags, which was both worrying and infuriating.

Chase pointed to the first option. It looked like a heavy set of plate armour that wouldn’t help his Speed in the slightest, but shimmering enchantments roiled about on its surface, suggesting some latent potential.

“May as well start at the start — what’s that one worth?”

The tailor raised his eyebrows minutely, as if being asked for a price-check was an unexpected eventuality. He tapped away at his tablet, going through multiple screens.

“Let’s see here…oh, rather modest, actually! Duramgort’s Deep Sea Set could be yours for just twenty-one-thousand Credits.”

Chase swallowed. Suddenly the hors d’oeuvres didn’t taste so good.