Wen stood in the bounty office as the clerk processed her payment. A fan above her ticked every few moments as it cycled air through the dimly lit room. Dark curtains kept all but a few glimmers of light from getting in, and the clerk had a single desk lamp to light his space behind the counter.
"Just a moment." The man pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he repeated what he had said an hour ago.
That was typical for regional governments not directly affiliated with the Military Police. Fringe worlds would pay out on Military Police bounties, but they had to be reimbursed through a long chain of bureaucracy. Even in a new world, bureaucracies moved at a snail's pace.
Her two captures were long thawed and shivering behind bars, suffering from severe bouts of frostbite. They would be lucky if they didn't lose any fingers or toes, but to Wen, they were lucky even to be alive. People on Erth were hardier than people from her world. From her readings, they had aether to thank for that.
Beep. Beep.
Wen pushed aside her jacket and pulled out the small device that beeped from her belt, holding up one finger to the clerk at the bounty office as she pressed down on it. It clicked with a satisfying sound, and static hissed across it.
"I have a client who is looking for you," the voice hissed with static.
"What price?" Wen asked.
"Five hundred thousand in advance, another five hundred thousand on completion."
Wen let out a low whistle. That was good money. Bass would only net her thirty-thousand in total, and that would be enough to get a few repairs done on her small ship and buy a week's worth of supplies. One million would let her take a long vacation.
"What's the job?"
"The client is keeping that a secret." The voice giggled. "But I'll tell you a piece of strange news. The client is on the same island as you."
"That's odd," Wen said, looking toward the door.
"I bet they've been tracking you, so it would be better for you to meet them face-to-face either way. The best way to deal with snoopy people is to be direct."
"Alright," Wen said. "Where do they want to meet?"
"The Roaming Pony." Static crackled across the box again. "Looks like I'm losing you. I hope you-"
The voice cut off, and Wen returned the box to her jacket pocket. The box was an experimental thing that not a lot of people had access to. She had gotten two from a bounty and left one of them with her friend at the bounty hunter guild headquarters on April. Jia used it to tell Wen who was looking to hire her while she was out on a job.
However, it was odd for a client to come out and find her. Normally, she hunted down bounties based on what she found. Wanting to hire her and finding her were two different things that meant she needed to be careful. She knew she should go and see the client, but she also knew she shouldn't go in without a plan.
"Ahem." The clerk coughed to get Wen's attention. "I have your paperwork ready, ma'am. I just need your signature in a few places, and we will release the money to you as a check."
Wen sighed as she walked over, her boots clicking against the wooden floor as she peered down at the paper. Several 'x' marks covered the paper, and it didn't look like it stopped on the first page. She picked up a pen and prepared herself for the punishment, which was paperwork.
After an hour, she was done and leaving with a check in her aching hand. She would need to stop by a bank to cash it, but that could wait for later. Instead, she made her way through the town toward the docks. Like many islands in the nightsea, Tua Springs focused most of its resources on the shores of their island, with the largest towns being ports.
The Roaming Pony had a single sign outside its door near the boardwalk, marked with a shabbily drawn symbol to mark it as something different from the rest of the taverns and inns on the street. Wen stood with her hand on the door as she looked at the awning covering the patio. It was early in the day, so she should be able to avoid crowds, but she still didn't like that the client knew she was coming.
"You won't get anywhere by just standing here," she whispered as she opened the door and walked inside.
She entered a dining room lit by several open windows along the front of the building. A man stood in front of a bar, cleaning the bartop with a dirty rag as he leaned over the side. The entire place was empty, with the exception of one table.
"I bought this place out for today, so I expect good service for my coin!" A man in golden armor sat at the booth's center, three other men sitting around him as he leaned back against his seat.
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He was blonde and looked young, but only his trimmed mustache made him look any older than a fresh man into adulthood. A white cross marked the shoulders on his armor, but Wen didn't recognize those symbols.
To his right, a man in a dark coat and a wide-brimmed back hat sat, a curved sword resting in his arms as he bent his head forward. She couldn't see anything beneath the shadows of his hat, but she knew him, if by reputation alone. Matthew 'Witchfinder General' Hopkins, an expert in finding people with curses and exterminating them, moved his legs into a more comfortable position as he settled into his seat.
To the young man's left was a man she didn't know. He wore a white chef's uniform and looked at the sparse food set out on the table with disgust. His hair was pulled back into a tail behind his head, and his eyes were a cold blue. He carried no weapons and appeared to be a cook of some kind to Wen.
The last one was a long man in a pinstripe suit. His dark sunglasses and pointed hat only partially covered his weasely face, and long whiskers ran out from his ball nose. She had never seen a human who looked like an animal, so she guessed it was probably a curse.
"We've got company, sir." The weasely man pointed to Wen.
"We can't have that." The young man reached up and pulled at his mustache with one of his golden gauntlets. "We're waiting for a special person, and I can't have some lady interrupting my wait. This entire building is reserved for a meeting with 'Cold Shot.'"
Wen raised an eyebrow, resting her hands on her pistols as she looked over the man. He already wasn't making a good impression, so there was a good chance she would walk out and refuse the job. However, even at that, she remembered how much money had been offered.
She could give him a little more rope to hang himself.
"Why else would I be in this broken-down inn?" Wen asked, cracking her neck side to side as she approached.
"A woman?" the mustached man's eyes widened.
"I could have told you that." Hopkins barely moved, still resting back with his sword.
"You would make me a fool?" The mustached man's face turned a bright red as he slammed a golden gauntlet down on the table.
"No, the armor does that for you." Hopkins tilted up his hat, revealing two dark brown eyes. "What kind of person goes around looking for specific bounty hunters without knowing who they are?"
The mustached man started to speak but, instead of responding, let out a long breath and took a few moments to collect himself. He placed his other hand on the table and stared directly at it. Overall, Wen wasn't impressed.
"I only want to hire the best for this job, and 'Cold Shot' came recommended without much information beyond his skill with a gun."
He took another deep breath, looking up at Wen.
"I apologize for my rudeness. It was a surprise to meet a woman as accomplished as you are. I am Prince Bibi, soon to be King Bibi of the island Diamond Peak."
Wen nodded to continue, looping one thumb through her rifle's strap as she let the other rest on the butt of her pistol. Outside of his temper tantrum, this was closer to what she expected from a client. If he got to the point quickly, she would think a lot better of taking his money.
"This is Matthew Hopkins, Mister Foley, and Antonio Fettucine." Bibi nodded at each one of them in turn. "They are also well known in the bounty hunting world for their particular abilities."
"Hopkin's skill preceded him with me." Wen nodded toward him before turning to the other two. "However, I apologize. I've never heard of either of you."
"I am new to the scene, but I've made a name for myself." Antonio leaned back, making himself as tall as possible so that he could look down on her. "I've captured twenty men in twenty days, each with a bounty over twenty thousand dolers."
Wen smirked and nodded. It was good for a newbie, and he specified captured and not killed. It took more skill to take people alive than dead. He may have been dressed like a chef, but there clearly was something deeper going on with him.
"My work is less open to scrutiny," Mister Foley said, his dark eyes looking between the three of them. "Just know I come highly recommended for my abilities."
He pulled back his pointed hat and ran his fingers up his styled spiked hair. Wen noticed that his fingernails were long and pointed. It was almost as if they had been intentionally sharpened to be razor-sharp points. Already, she was fairly sure both men on her left were curse users. She thought Hopkins wasn't, but a lot of him was a mystery, even with his infamy.
"Quite the team you've gathered." Wen raised an eyebrow. "I can't think of any bounties where having four hunters would change the game enough."
"That's because we're not hunting people," Bibi said, raising one finger. "You see, there is a rite of passage for those who would become kings in my land. We must undertake a hunt in our homeland, back on Diamond Peak. We must kill a great bearcat and take its corpse back to our father to show that we have the will to rule."
Wen narrowed her eyes. "Surely you don't need bounty hunters for that. You bought three bounty hunters to hunt an animal?"
"I see the doubt in your eyes, but the bearcat is not to be underestimated. Their claws can cleave stone. Their eyes can see great distances, and they are crafty beasts," Bibi said, nodding as he spoke. "However, what is more important to hiring the four of you is this: We go not just for a bearcat, but the matriarch—the strongest of their kind. We will capture it alive. Only with that will I be able to convince my father to return my people back to our homeland."
Wen blinked, running through what he had told her in her mind.
"It isn't your home anymore," she said.
"An accident," Bibi said, rubbing a finger across his mustache. "A confluence of aether created an aetherstorm over our central lake. We had to abandon the island for the last twenty years. It is only now that the storm would have abated enough for me to return and claim our birthright."
Wen looked between each of the three bounty hunters. In her mind, having four of them along would be overkill for hunting a simple beast. However, if he paid as much as he said he would, it would be worth the excursion, even if the job ended up being easy. The only real question was if she could handle being on a ship with Bibi for the journey there.
"I don't take this lightly," Bibi said, wagging one finger at her. "I will pay you all well, and by the end of this, we will return to my father with a live captured bearcat. That will convince my father to return my people home and grant me the title of king."
Wen took in a deep breath. It was a tempting offer, and she could use the money. It would be an easy job. Besides how annoying she already knew Bibi would be, there were no downsides. She looked Bibi in the eye before she spoke.
"First, let's talk about pay. Then we'll see how this goes."