Edge forced himself not to freeze up or run. Not to show any emotion on his face. He’s not here for you. He’s just waiting to use the board. Walk on past and he’ll leave you…

“Edge Vasher. Well, fancy that. It’s just the person I was hoping to see. I’m sorry to interrupt. But before you go about your day, I’ll need you to answer a few questions first. It won’t take long, friend, and I’m afraid I’ll have to insist.”

With that, the man smiled. An icy grin that barely reached his lips, let alone his eyes. A gesture that somehow conveyed an immense capacity for impending violence.

Edge knew he was a manslayer because he recognized the speaker. It was Warren Ellington, one of the most famous bounty hunters on Ord prior to the disaster. A stage-two warrior with a capture list as long as his arm and a kill count well into the double digits. A man known for being relentless, perceptive, and utterly merciless.

It was clear in that moment what Warren was doing here. He must already be hunting for the cores mentioned in the notice I just read. That means he’s hunting for me. Be cool, Edge. Play into his expectations and don’t give anything away. What would a cocky young tourist still riding the high of binding a core say? Full of yourself, but not willing to antagonize an experienced manslayer.

Edge met Warren’s gaze and said, “Forgive me if I don’t feel particularly inclined to give a damn about what you do, or do not insist.” The smile slid from the bounty hunter’s face. “But in the interest of our newfound friendship, I could see my way to answering a few questions.”

“Fair enough.” The smile never came back, which was a promising sign, and his tone warmed by a degree or two.

They took a seat on a nearby bench, giving Edge a chance to take a good look at the problem in front of him, his first time seeing the manslayer in the flesh. Warren looked young, with a puppet somewhere in its late twenties. According to rumor, he had lived for well over a century before starting his Prison World run.

The man had ice blue eyes to match his temperament. Fair skin that was covered in scars and less identifiable markings. He had reddish brown hair peeking out from under a white, wide brim hat. The bounty hunter wore a red vest covered in magtech devices and had an oversized canteen hanging from his belt.

Completing his look was a white leather poncho, a thick bandolier filled with potions in shatterproof vials, and his signature weapon, a massive magtech pistol.

Edge didn’t think that Warren would make a move on him inside of Puppet Town. Not with access to the outside world cut off at any rate. But he wasn’t taking it for granted. He was prepared to activate shadow step the second that the manslayer reached for the revolver holstered at his hip.

There were no conventional firearms on Ord. None that worked at any rate. The System had decided early on that guns were bad for ratings and had instituted a blanket ban. Plenty of people had tried to make them since, but no one had been able to find a solution.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Gunpowder wouldn’t spark under the red-shield. Electric slug throwers couldn’t maintain a charge. Even the engraved runes powering magtech devices faltered if they tried to form anything that fired a shot faster than a bow, although there were plenty of skills that could launch a powerful projectile.

No, the pistol at Warren’s hip didn’t shoot bullets. Filling its six chambers were crystalized spells.

Giving spells physical form for long-terms storage required exotic resources, powerful skills, and vast amounts of mana. Spellshots were rare and incredibly expensive, impractical to use for anyone except the wardens and the richest people on the planet.

Warren didn’t fire them often, since a single shot was worth more than most bounties. But if he figured out that Edge was cored with Skill-Eater, the cost of firing every round he owned would be immaterial compared to the reward.

Edge didn’t know what spells the manslayer was packing. He was certain that getting hit by any of them would prove fatal, regeneration or no.

“It’s mighty generous of you to lend me a moment, Edge. You don’t mind if I call you Edge, do you?” Warren didn’t wait for a reply. “My first question is simple enough. You seem awfully nervous. You’re sweating a lot given the heat, and your heart rate is accelerated by a remarkable degree. Why?”

Be careful. He probably has a skill that can detect lies or read body language and facial expressions. Fortunately, Edge knew a simple strategy to keep himself from giving too much away, even if that was the case. Be completely honest while keeping part of the truth unsaid.

“Anyone would be nervous to find a stage-two bounty hunter blocking their path. Especially now that we’re stuck here for good, and death is the end of the road. I just got my power core a few days back, and I’m used to treading lightly around cored individuals.”

Warren let loose a mirthless chuckle. “There’s no need to worry about little old me… unless of course you’re wanted. But that does bring me to my next question. That mysterious shadow core of yours. A brand-new puppet finding a rare core is rather remarkable. An unknown variant no less, never before seen. You wouldn’t mind sharing the story of where you found it, would you?”

“Bits and pieces of the surface have been swapped out all over. If you walk to the southeastern corner of the plains, you’ll find a series of ravines that wasn’t there before. I took a risk, explored one, and got lucky. I almost died more than once pulling it off.”

“That does sound like quite a tale. Let’s say that I believe you and leave it at that. Last question, then we can both be on our way. What are you doing looking at the bounty board?”

Fortunately, Edge had anticipated this one, and had a half-truth ready to go.

“I heard that the board was back online and wanted to see if I could learn anything about what is happening to the planet by looking through the updates. Unfortunately, I couldn’t piece anything together based on what I saw. Now, if you don’t mind, I have business to attend to.”

With that, Edge rose to his feet and walked off, praying that he had played his cards right. That he had revealed enough to alleviate suspicion, then left before he was asked point-blank about his core’s rarity. A question that he had been dead certain was coming next, no matter what the manslayer said.

For a second, a flash of irritation crossed Warren’s face. But then the moment passed. He turned and started walking in the opposite direction, whistling as he went.

Edge let out a long sigh of relief. He was safe for now, although something told him that their paths were fated to cross again.