A few years had passed since Mythra’s journey to the Uria Wasteland, he was 38 years old now. His wavy unkempt hair had grown shoulder length, his eyes were dark and sunken, there was no trace of the optimistic man who traveled to the Uria Wasteland left.

Sitting on one of the corners of the pentagonal Kapabia Pub in the Atavyana city, Mythra sipped down everything left of his adian ale. His metallic prosthetic hand was still gripping on his glass when a huge, bald figure sat down in front of him. His name was Franky, the dim light from a lamp atop of them made revealed his features more clearly. He was only about 170 cm tall, but easily weights almost 130kg. For a common folk he would look like he was only a fat pig, but actually behind his leather jacket and loose coat was thick armor of fat and muscle tissue.

“You’re late Frank” Mythra said, tonelessly.

“Ouw come oonn maann, can’t a man enjoy a little scenery on his trip? I traveled all the way from Adia for your request.”, he said jokingly with a loud voice.

An ordinary merchant won’t even dare to speak on a trade so loudly when trading on a pub, because all the prying eyes around them, waiting patiently for a chance to rob or even only to overhear some precious information. But Frankie was no ordinary merchant to say the least. Other than his big muscular posture, his bald tibal tattooed head gave off a menacing aura, although his way of speaking contrasted 180º from his stature.

Franky was a very able merchant. Back on earth he always claimed he could sell an ice cream to an Eskimo, bread to a bakery, even a pair of sock to a mermaid. Everything he could sell, he sells. And now he got something Mythra wants badly, and he was more than aware of Mythra’s desperation to use it to his advantage.

“So, do you got what I want?”

“What?! No idle chat, no little bibble babble to start our trade? A glass or two of Adian ale maybe? Let me tell you something misterr.....”, Franky

“Mythra”.

“AH! I always forgot that strange name of yours, pardon me. SO! Mister Mythra, let me tell you something, mister Mythra, with that attitude of yours, you will never get any women to rub over. You rip the fun out of everything”, Franky continued.

“Tell that to someone who care, I’m here only for the trade”, Mythra said, his eyes fixed on Franky’s cybernetic left eye.

Franky had replaced his left eye with a cybernetic one, it served as an optical receptor and also scanner which filters and compares information from its optical receptors to the database implanted in his back of the neck.

“All right, you got me. Do you get the credits” Franky’s tone suddenly changed to one of a businessman negotiating on a gazillion dollar deal.

“Fifty five thousand credits, as we agreed”, Mythra replied with the same toneless intonation he had from the start of the negotiation.

“Mister Mythra, here, let me tell you a story. Just earlier this morning, before I go here. Some rascals from the Ubikkian Uprising called me, they said they are willing to pay 110 grand for the thing you are buying right now. But you know me. I’m an honest merchant, I wouldn’t dare double cross my customers. So instead they send a raiding party. Yes, yees, you heard that right a raiding party, for me, they tried to rob me on my way here. Of course, it's not a problem for me. But you know, some hazard pay would further improve our friendship, don’t you agree with me Mister Mythra?” Franky said with a burning passion of a storyteller, without losing businessman composure.

The 110 thousand might be only a ruse to drop Mythra off his composure he thought to himself. But Mythra knew the man. Despite being greedy, Franky was a man of his word. He never lied to his costumers. And even if what Franky told him was a lie, he can’t afford to lose this thing he was buying to anybody else. His bargaining chips were limited, he realized that. He was in no position to bargain.

“Let’s assume your story was a fact, but a deal is a deal Frank. You’re a man of your word, you’re better than this. Fifty five thousand credit is what we have agreed on.”, Mythra countered.

“You are the only person bold enough to strike at my pride as a merchant, did you know that Mister Mythra my friend? But you know, it’s better to lose some credits than to lose a friend. Who knows, maybe, just maybe, you are going to need a leg or an arm in the future you see, not only a left hand, and you know your friend here. I, Frank will be there for you.”

“Yeah, you’ll be there for my credit”

“HA HA ha ha ha ha” Franky laughed so hard that almost everyone in the pub turned their eyes at them. “You always knew how to crack my stomach Mister Mythra”

“All right for the good laugh you gave me, I will give the stuff you wanted for a mere ninety grand credits”, Franky said with a little laugh.

“That’s robbery, Frank, it's still almost twice of our agreed price. I will play seventy for it.” Mythra said whilst repairing his sitting position.  

“You know, you can imagine the hardship I’ve been through to get  you this particular stuff.. You are not that heartless of a man, Mister Mythra. I know you”, said Franky with a little hint of disappointment in his words.

“Seventy five thousand then”.

“Make it eighty grand and we have a deal”.

Mythra sighed, he knew that the price would be above the fifty five thousand credits they had agreed upon. But eighty thousand credit was a little too much. But from the look of Franky’s face, he knew he wouldn’t get any lower than that.

“All right, you win Frank. Eighty thousand it is. Just a sec, i’m going to transfer the credit to your account”, Mythra said with a voice of defeat. Then he pressed some buttons located in his wrist just under his left arm under his wrist mounted gun.

“Yep, it's in”, Franky said after he confirmed the transfer using his cybernetic left eye. “And here, the information you’re looking for, all packed on this chip here.”

“Thanks Frank”, Mythra said as he left the desk.

“You’re not gonna stay for some booze Mister Mythra? It’s on me don’t worry”, Frank said with a loud voice now that he and Mythra is several meters apart.

“Naah, you enjoy your credit Frank. I’ve got other things to do”, Mythra said without turning his head to face Franky. Then Franky called some maid and ordered five pints of Vosk Vodka.

Mythra actually had nothing to do and a drink with Frank was always entertaining. He would tell the story of his exploits with such passion. But Mythra had counted that at least six pair of eyes have been eavesdropping on him in the pub when he was with Franky. And he did not want to spend his time any longer in the pub only to add more uninvited guests.  

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Mythra tossed a twenty credits chip to the bartender as he made his way through the pub to the exit. Just when Mythra made his way out of the pub, six other guys in the pub stood up and made their way to the pub’s exit. It was clearly a trouble when you saw six guys trying to sneak up on one lone man. But the bouncer at the pub’s exit couldn’t care less what happens outside the pub, they are only paid by their boss to keep the pub out of troublemakers. So the bouncers only stood in silent as six guys passed them through with their hands searching for weapon on their jackets and belts.

Mythra had already aware of the six guys who followed him from the pub. But Mythra wonders how would they try to gang him. With a disadvantage in number, Mythra hurried his step so that he could choose the arena of the fight. And he already made his choice.   

 It  was high noon in the city of Atavyna, Mythra rushed his step to the market sector of the city. The market sector was arranged like a fish bone, it has a big street that had many branches, these branches were three meters wide alleyways. On the morning the branches would be cramped with a poorly ordered kiosk. But in the noon, these branches would be almost empty, with only one or two kiosks still standing.

Mythra reached the market sector, he then rushed to one of the branches there. It was a gamble going to the market sector rather than running away, if the would be thug is the type to shot first, then asks questions later it would be for naught, but if he ran there is a chance they would follow him, to his hidden home.      

Mythra had reached his destination, the market secto alleyway. He slowed his pace down, then two guys stopped him. Mythra was trapped, there were two guys standing about five meters in front of him, both of them were human holding a pestol pointed at him. And behind him, there were six guys, four of them were human, two were aliens, a duma and a ploo’o. The duma and the ploo’o were the only one that didn’t hold a gun out of the six.  Mythra readied himself for anything, for the worse especially.

“Put your hands up and don’t do anything rash there m’lad, we are only interested in the thing you got from Franky”, said one of the men in front of Mythra. Then mythra raised his hands.

“Foolish imbeciles”, Mythra said to himself with a faint smile on his face unseen by the eyes of the eight.

“If you gave it to us, we’re gonna let you off this unscathed, we promise you m’lad”

“You’re right, there’s no point in tossing my life away, you outnumbered me by one to eight. Just let me grab the thing i got from Franky in my coat”, he reached his right hand into an inner pocket in his coat. Then he slowly lifted it up again with something looked like a chip, the eyes of his adversaries glued to the chip in his right hand. They thought they had won, but that’s where they were wrong.

Mythra turned his face to the ground and closed his eyes, then pushed a tiny button in the chip he held in his right arm, then boom. The chip turned out to be a flash grenade he had prepared especially for this kind of situation. He knew that a deal with Franky will always have a trouble entailed, he had come prepared. The eyes of his adversaries were  blinded by the flash grenade except for the ploo’o. Ploo’os were humanoid species with four super sighted eyes. So they were exceptionally weak to flash grenade as its effect will overwhelm the ploo’o supersight. The ploo’o would need ten minutes to recover from a strong flash grenade. Confused the other thugs fire a series of shot aimed at what they feel was the last position of Mythra. Mythra nimbly leapt to the side and shot the two human in front of him in the chest with a high precision. A stray bolt shot from the pestol of the two enemies in front of him hit one of their friends, killing him instantly. There were four remaining enemies left for Mythra to defeat.

Mythra hid in a cover of a crate made of iron that was left behind by the owner when the flash grenade exploded. The alleyway was empty except for five people who were exchanging shot one  after another. Mythra had chosen this place for the fight because he wouldn’t get flanked from the side if his enemies had backups.

The gunfight continued without anyone getting shot for three minutes. But that was only because Mythra was measuring the skills of his enemies. From their skills Myhtra knew that they were only a common thug, relying on number to rob or mug their target, and they probably never had a good training on how to hold a pestol on their life.

One by one mythra dispatched his enemies, until only the duma left. Dumas were a humanoid sentient species with a characteristic of a lizard. They had hard rough hairless hard scale instead of skin. Their skin was so hard that a bolt from a gun wouldn’t be able to pierce though them. Some even wove an armor from dumas scale.. But what made duma so distinguishable was their three armed shoulder, one on the left and two on the right side of their shoulder. Also equipped with rigorous stamina, they were a race of fierce, strong warrior.

The duma realized that he can’t beat his enemy on a shootout. It would be an understatement to call his enemy good, and his only passable skill at wielding a pestol was not adequate. So instead he pulled out two lading blade and held it in his left and lower right arm. Lading blade was a standard blade in this time, it was fifty up to seventy cenimeters long. To put it simply lading blade was a sword with a hair clipper atached. The edge was imbued with a vibrating cutter tht work at a microscopic leve. It could cut through anything that mad out of flesh.

The duma charged forward, Mythra shot three clean shot at the duma’s chest, but his laser bolt from his wrist mounted gun in couldn’t penetrate the duma’s tough and thick scale, the shot didn’t even flinch his enemy. He then pulled his own lading blade and held it in his metallic right hand, braced himself for the enemy.

Mythra dodge his enemy head on charge by rolling to the side, but by the time he stood up again, a series of intricate attack from the lading blade of the duma rained upon him. Mythra had a hard time parrying and dodging all the attacks from the duma, but his enemy didn’t let him rest even one second. The duma’s attack was not brutish despite the duma’s two meters stature but instead it was graceful, it was more like an intricate dance with a balance between quick and heavy attacks from his blade, and jabbing attack from his free right hand. But Mythra was also good with his lading blade, his instinct honed by more than twenty years of experience in and out this kind of situation.

After a long series of attack the duma was surprised at how good his enemy was with the blade, it made his blade attack waver and a little slower. Mythra seized the opportunity, parried the blade of his enemy’s two blades in a quick succession, he landed a heavy kick on the duma’s stomach, the strong kick made the duma staggered two steps backward. Mythra then took a step backward, keeping heir distance and giving his body the rest it needed.

“You are good human”, the duma said while he readied himself again, the sound of excitement could be heard in his words. Dumas were known for their passion for battle.

“Thanks”, Mythra said, flatly.

“Thank you too human, now that you killed all my friend the prize of my victory against you will be mine alone”, the duma said with confidence. He then attacked Mythra again, this time there was no trace of grace he had on his first attack, it was a pure brutish attack. For an untrained eye his attack would only look like a random thrashing, some kind of desperate attack. But actually it was a calculated attack, every gap in his defense when he attacked instantly closed by his next attack. Mythra was forced into a full defense stance, desperately dodging and parrying the twin blade of the duma with his own. He realized his opponent tactic was to wear him down little by little, while his enemy’s inexhaustible stamina keep him going.

Mythra was getting overwhelmed by the second, his coat bit by bit got ripped by the ferocity of his opponent’s attack. Blood dripping from shallow wounds all over his body from badly dodged attacks. Mythra knew he need to get out this situation or else he would be doomed.

Mythra lowered his guard, changed his stance to one that anyone would recognize as an attacking stance. He attacked his opponent with a desperate strong overhead slash, the duma was forced to break his attack and block his opponent’s attack with both of his weapons, with the advantage of extra limb, he punched his opponent downward then kick him in his stomach. The force of the kick sent Mythra flew five meters. The duma then lunged forward in an attempt to finish his opponent off, unaware of the trap that was about to hit him. It was all a feint, Mytha had tricked his opponent to believe he was winning the fight. But it was an act by Mythra. Mythra rolled into a crouching position with the momentum from his opponent’s kick. He shot his opponent precisely in the left eye, the only vulnerable part in dumas physiology. The duma grunted, th pain from his eyes made him cancelled his attack midway. Mythra held his lading blade strong, pointed at his opponent’s chest, he braced himself for impact. The duma couldn’t stop his momentum, Mythra’s blade pierced his opponent’s chest all the way to his back, ripped the duma’s heart in half in the process, he died at that instant. But the duma’s body still hit him like a truck.

The impact of the duma’s body made all the air from Mythra’s lungs left his body. Mythra was gasping for air, helpless. He laid on the ground for two minutes, catching his breath, with his enemy’s body still squishing him. He then moves the body to the side and walked away with a dislocated shoulders, broken mechanical, and a few broken ribs, a victory hard gained.

He laughed like a crazed person as he walked through the alleyway to his home.