Boisterous laughter lingered on the alcoholic fumes of Persephone’s atmosphere. The bass of a trendy hypno-song shook the establishment to its foundations. Amid all the clamor I imagined it was impossible to hold a conversation with someone without leaning into their breathing space.

In the middle of the scene, the silvery counters of a circular bar sprouted out of the laminate flooring and kissed the skylight. A crowd of enthusiastic patrons crowded around the metallic fixture, attended to by a trio of bartenders with onyx-colored helmets affixed to their heads. There was no seating at the bar, but a den of pearly couches took up the right side of the building. I watched as a wobbly man with twin-braided beards pressed a button on the side of his couch to deploy a tabletop from a panel on the floor. Fancy.

To the left, a few of the more excitable contestants inhabited the dance floor, flashing panels of fuschia and turquoise illuminating their every step. I chuckled to myself as a Retan woman nearly crushed her human dancing partner, sending him sprawling across the dance floor.

But I spotted my main quarry ascending one of the helical staircases that led to the second-floor balcony, away from the bedlam of the main floor. The ruddy-faced Terry already clasped a fresh drink in hand, a frothy mug of hops, and seemed to be making his way to one of the open seats up top.

I pushed my way through a crowd of new arrivals that clogged the entry foyer. It earned me a few side glances but I held them in little regard. This meeting was too fortuitous to delay.

The winding staircase brought me to a landing populated with a few drinking tables and significantly fewer people than the level below. Perfect for a man to ruminate in his thoughts over a spot of alcohol. A long holo-screen projected highlight reels from the previous round. Dolos’ narration broke in periodically, reveling over gruesome kills and nefarious traps that ensnared less witty contestants.

I found the bounty hunter sitting with his back to me, shoulders stooped over his brew. He didn’t hear me as I plodded my way over to his table.

I grasped his shoulder with a tight squeeze. He started from his seat and met my eyes with a fiery gaze of his own. Recognition cooled the heat of his expression, turning it to a look of tired resignation.

“Terrence Mulligan, as I live and breathe!” I pulled the chair out across from him. “May I?”

He grunted what I took to be an approval as he sipped his draught. As I plopped myself down, he parted the glass from his lips.

“What spirit’s possessed you, boy? Yer actin’ like a brat on Stewart’s Day.” Foam clung to his thick facial hair. Dark rings around his eyes belied a tiredness I didn’t believe possible in the sleepless BIOS system. “And what’s with the silks? Got a new job?”

“A new outlook on life, more like.” I drummed my fingers along the glossy surface of the table. “I have decided that for as long as I am trapped here, I will make the most of it. There’s a lot to be won on a stage like this.”

“Yer only earnings will be death, boy.”

“Not if I keep winning.”

“Everyone you face from this point on will’ve won the same as you. The odds only get worse from here, you ought to know that as a gambling man.” Terrence took another swig from his mug, sloshing some of the yellow liquid onto his mantle. “And for some folk, this ain’t their first go around you know.”

I ceased my drumming and leaned in.

“Yeah, that’s right. Turns out there're a few ‘champions’ in the mix. Repeat contestants tha’ excited the audience so much in the previous season that our good hosts paid a lion’s sum to sign them back on.” The bounty hunter pointed a thick finger towards the screen mounted on the wall to our left. “There’s one right now.”

There he was. The same smug-faced, blonde-haired, statuesque figure that nearly popped my head like a cork in the first round. Hercules appeared to be in a subterranean cave. Stalagmites rose from the ground like snarling jaws dripping in a saliva of condensation. He smiled triumphantly over the corpse of a serpentine creature covered head to tail in metallic scales, hand gripping a flaming lance plunged deep into the beast’s maw.

Goldie struck a pose for the camera, knee bent outward and chin raised high. How did he even know where the cameras were pointing? None of them had been visible in my rounds.

“Aye, they got their favorites alright. That one’s known as Regis The Indomitable, or so is his competing name. Abyss knows his real one.” Terrence shrugged.

“You mean to tell me he’s already had all the advantages of competing in a previous season, and he’s lumped in here with the rest of us?” I couldn’t stop the look of indignant rage creeping onto my face.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Mhm. And now you see the rub. This whole damn show is a sham. From start to finish they pick their favorites from among the best and throw ‘em against the slop - us - just for good sportin’ fun. I’m getting out the first buy-out round there is.” He nodded to himself matter-of-factly.

“Some of us don’t have that luxury!” I slammed my fist against the table.

“Now, now. Don’t go spilling my drink over yer own ailments” Terry cried, trying to stabilize his drink.

I raised a finger at a waitress as she passed by. “Gin and tonic. Double.” She nodded and hurried off down the stairs. I pushed the hair on my forehead away with an exasperated sigh.

“ ‘Atta boy.” Terry laughed. “You know, you’re not as annoying pissed off. More reasonable this way, you are. I oughta burst your bubble more often.”

“You won’t have the chance much longer, it sounds like.”

“If I have my way I won’t!” Terry took another gulp and slammed his empty mug on the table. “I have no reason to be dying over foolish notions of fame and glory. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Well if a man is to die, it ought to at least be glorious,” I replied.

“Don’t salvage your romantic notions, lad. A smart man lives long enough to enjoy everything he wants from life before turning its lease over to the reaper.”

The waitress had already returned, a glass of gin and a fresh mug on her tray. Terry didn’t even have to ask for it - incredible service in this place at least.

“Now there’s merry tidings. Let’s turn the tone of this conversation. Death and dying should be the least concern of the living.” The bounty hunter grinned as he grasped his fresh mug.

I resigned myself to a light smile and downed some of the pungent liquid. It burned the roof of my mouth as it slid into my stomach. The fiery sensation brought some color to my cheeks.

“I see you have fewer holes than when I saw you last. You finally learn to shoot that pair of pipes at someone?” I slapped the double-barrel strapped to his hip.

“Watch yer hands boy or I’ll take ‘em off!” Terry roared, pulling his shotgun from its holster.

“Cranker’s been with me since the beginnin’. He’s blown heads off of Undu Raiders,” he patted the two crude iron barrels of the weapon. “He’s cracked jaws and split skulls,” the hunter swung the gun into a wide arc, stopping it just shy of the table. “And he’s stuck greedy gamblers like yourself tryna’ run away from their debts.” Terry finished by sticking the hook of Cranker’s handle into the table, leaving it standing upright.

“How fearsome! Now, what do you do when an enemy is more than a man’s distance away? I guess that was your problem with the Undu sharpshooter.” I grinned.

“Now, for that, I used my deadliest weapon of all - me wits!”

“I imagine that’s more of a blunt force instrument, given their lack of edge.”

Terry shot me a dirty look. “You know how to make a man’s blood boil, boy. Ought to be careful around a bounty hunter and his instrument.”

I resigned, raising my hands in mock surrender. “Right, right. I will commend you - you know how to take a few hits.”

“Those were nothin’ at all. Didn’t even feel ‘em!” Terry grumbled. He picked up his already-empty mug and shook it around with a dissatisfied look.

“Oh, nonsense. You were groaning in that bed like a stuck pig!” I chuckled, pinching off my glass.

“I didn’t see you moving much in that cot of yours. What’d you do again, fall down a flight of stairs?” The bounty hunter shot back.

“No, no, no. I survived fire and inferno. A blast big enough to derail a train! That’s worth a story right there.”

“I’d need more drink to hear it.”

“Amen to that.”

-----

Several glasses later, I found myself hanging off the edge of Terry’s seat. He had spent the last half hour or so trying to convince me of the benefits of ingesting a quart of Yerling’s milk every day. Apparently, it made your bones like iron and your mind sharp as a tack. In my current state of mind it sounded reasonable, the only problem being I didn’t have any Yerlings to milk.

“Hey, hey,” Terrence said abruptly. “You know something?”

“What’s that?” I smiled.

“You’re an alright fellow, you are Mr. Puck.” The bounty hunter nodded sagely. “I’d have never said it before but you sure do. You sure do.” He scratched at his beard absentmindedly. Foam and saliva clung to his fingers as he pulled them away.

“Glad I stuck around, huh?” Since the moment we met in that cave he had been trying to get rid of me. Seems the old man had a soft spot for me after all.

“Don’t go that far. I’m still getting the hell out of here, firs’ chanse I git,” he hiccuped. “And if you’re wise, you’d try nothin’ crazy until you can pay your way out too.”

“Yeah, and where will you head?” I retorted. “The bars on the outside don’t get much better than this.”

“Oh I don’t know, I ought to settle down somewhere. Earned enough to find a nice ranch on a farming planet. I always wanted to try my hand at ranchin’. Yea, that’d be a good look.” He nodded to himself.

“What about you, boy? Where’s life’s next journey?”

“Life never amounted much for me on the outside.” I toyed with the drink in my hand. “This is my first chance to be something great. This is my journey right here.”

A sober look came over Terrence’s eyes. “It’s youth’s folly to throw life away in want of something more. Enjoy what you’ve got lad.”

I snorted. “Gambling halls and deserted streets. ‘S all that waits for me.”

The bounty hunter placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, nearly knocking me off balance. “I got into my job for the same reason. I guess I didn’t learn my lesson, and tha’s why I’m here now. But learn from my faults, boy. When I took my firs’ kill and brought it in for a payout it was the greatest feeling in the world. Like I would live forever; make a name as the greatest hunter in the galaxy. Well, I used to be married once, you know.” He pointed a finger into my chest.

“Until the jobs got longer and further away. I spent more time chasing the next hunt, leaving behind what I already had. I tried to justify it to myself. We needed the money and this was all I knew how to do. We had a baby on the way and she was gonna need a better life.” A mist formed in the bounty hunter’s eyes. “One day I jus’ stopped coming home. I never knew what happened to her - I’m too damn ashamed to try to go back now. I’d probably just find an empty home anyway. I just wish I had gotten to see the face of my baby girl.”

I frowned. I felt sympathy for the poor man, though I hadn’t had family myself in decades. I didn’t want to imagine the slow decay of drifting from the ones you loved. The whole notion of love set itself up for disappointment.

“My point is. You have a lot more to lose than you realize. Maybe it's not family, or a wife, or a kid. It might just be your humanity. Losing more of you than you were ever willing to part with, chasing something that’ll leave you wanting - even if you do catch it.” Terry took a deep drink from his glass, emptying it and slamming it down.

“Try not to lose yourself basking in the light.”