Edge walked downstairs and said hello to Sam, who was a great deal friendlier now that Edge was clean and wearing proper human clothing.
The Pioneer was calmer during the early part of the day. There were a dozen people eating at the tables. A few more were already sitting at the bar, nursing their drinks while trying to forget their troubles.
He stepped outside, only to find the noonday sun hanging high in the sky. Apparently, Edge had slept in even later than he’d realized. Then he turned down the road and made his way through town. The bounty kiosk was located inside a small building on the north side of the town square, only a ten-minute walk from the Pioneer.
Today, it was easier to notice the changes that had occurred while he was away. As he walked toward the heart of the settlement, he took a long, hard look at the people around him. There were far fewer individuals out on the street than before the disaster. Most of them traveled in groups, especially the uncored.
They made a beeline from one place to another, not stopping to banter, barter, or flirt. There were a handful of wagons rolling down the road, pulled by a variety of beasts. But without any traders coming in or out of town, the traffic was only a trickle compared to what he was used to watching on the feed.
Edge realized that the entire settlement had transformed while he was fighting to survive, becoming something that he barely recognized. That the anomaly had erased an entire way of life overnight. Now, the town’s long-term residents and newly arrived tourists alike were sailing into uncharted territory.
Puppet Town had a population of two to three thousand at any given time. A blend of locals, traders picking up resources to sell elsewhere, and fresh arrivals trying to learn the ropes and earn enough income to keep their puppet bodies running.
Edge had no idea how many of each had been in the area when the calamity had occurred, or how many had died in the days that followed. Right now, he was more worried about the future than the past.
After asking Sam, he’d learned that the bounty kiosk had been reactivated early yesterday morning. One of the first damaged parts of the System to come back online. Whatever the planetary AI wanted him to see, the news hadn’t had time to spread.
He took a lap around the square before approaching the small stone chamber holding the kiosk, making sure that no one was paying attention to him before entering. While it wouldn’t look too strange for him to head inside, Edge wanted to avoid attracting attention, given everything else that had happened.
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When he walked in, the door automatically closed and locked behind him. A whirring filled his ears before the sounds from outside faded away, as the magtech privacy function kicked in. He sat down in front of the kiosk, which was just a screen mounted to a metal pillar holding the machinery inside.
When he tapped the screen, his Guide automatically appeared, ready to interface with the kiosk and report his latest adventure. The golden mote danced around the bounty board. It seemed excited, like it was saying hello to an old friend. When it was finished, a notice appeared, informing him that he had two rewards ready to collect.
It seemed that both convicts he’d fought had bounties registered to their name. Although he hadn’t thought about it, it wasn’t too surprising. Most of the jailbirds on the planet had enemies who were willing to pay to see them dead. Since Edge had technically been the one to kill them, the rewards in question were now his.
His jaw dropped when he read the number on the screen. Another twenty thousand credits. It was far more than he would have earned in a month before finding his core, and enough to get a new weapon commissioned at the Forge.
While this was welcome news, it wasn’t the reason why he had stopped by the kiosk. It didn’t explain the warning in his trait. He rubbed his chin while navigating the various menus, noticing that there had been quite a few changes over the last few days.
Five minutes later, he found what he was looking for, an update that was clearly what the System was referring to.
Attention, all residents of Ord.
A bounty has been placed on cores of epic rarity and above, bound or unbound, dead or alive.
Payments of 75,000 credits will be issued to anyone capturing or destroying an epic core. The reward is 250,000 credits for a legendary, and 10,000,000 credits for anyone subduing or eliminating an individual wielding a unique core.
“Oh, shit. That’s not good.” The words passing Edge’s lips were the understatement of the century.
With that many creds on the table, almost anyone would be willing to turn on him if they suspected that he had something better than a rare core. Let alone the fortune that would be awarded to someone who caught the bearer of a unique.
He had no idea who had that kind of money to throw around, or what their goal was in placing these bounties. It honestly didn’t matter; the result was just the same.
In the end, the equation was simple. If Edge fucked up and his secret got out, he would find himself hunted by countless individuals who would never give up the chase. Many of them far more powerful than himself. If the existence of Skill-Eater was ever revealed, his new life was over, and nowhere on the planet would be safe.
Even the thought set his heart racing and sent adrenaline coursing through his veins. He took a few deep breaths, trying to talk himself down. There’s no reason to panic. I just need to play this smart, and not give anything else away. If I don’t draw more attention to myself than is strictly necessary, I should be able to make this work.
Edge closed the kiosk’s menu and started heading for the door, ready to move on to more pleasant pursuits. While this development was reason for concern, he had more credits than he’d expected to make all season, and he knew exactly how he wanted to spend them.
When he opened the door and stepped outside, a manslayer was blocking his path.