Edge made his way out of the town square, heading west toward the hunters’ district. As he walked, he let the sights and sounds of Puppet Town wash over him, taking the temperature of a settlement that was changing by the hour.

Prison World had never been a game. With the convicts roaming the planet and the high stakes of every run, it had been something in between a survival retreat and a once in a lifetime opportunity for its tourists.

A run was a chance to live on the wild side. To escape from the tedium of the daily grind and have a true adventure. A story to pass down in your family for generations to come.

Although their runs had very real and lasting consequences, everyone in Puppet Town had known that they would be going home one day. That death on Ord would only mark the return to their old way of life.

But the disaster had changed everything. Now, everyone was here for real. If they died to the myriad dangers that called this world home, it was the end. Now and forever.

Looking at the faces of the people walking by, Edge could tell that many were still in shock. That their fear was warring with disbelief as they struggled to adjust to their dramatic change in circumstances. What had once been a combination of a dream vacation and a chance to strike it rich was now a struggle with their survival hanging in the balance.

He could see it in the tightness of their expressions. In the way they looked over their shoulders every few steps, staring up at a sky far removed from the world of their birth. He was sure that over time, they would begin to adapt. But right now, the planet was in flux and change was in the air.

These were days of chaos and ash. Tumultuous weeks standing in the memory of the past and the shadow of an uncertain future. It was a time of dusk and mist. A requiem to a monolith and a prelude to the new order that would follow.

The residents of Puppet Town were only one sentence into this new chapter of life on Ord, staring at the great expanse of the blank page that lay ahead.

On top of everything else, now that all communication with the outside world had been severed, the town’s economy was in the process of being reorganized from the ground up.

The hunters’ district, however, was busier than ever.

In addition to catering to tourists, the town had always made a fair portion of its income from hunting beasts and gathering various resources from the Ivory Plains and surrounding biomes. With trade out of the picture, the hunters were now the settlement’s only source of sustenance, other than a handful of farms spread out along the northern plains.

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Beast meat was a core staple of people’s diets. The resources harvested from their bodies were used in everything from construction materials, to alchemy, to the creation of weapons and armor. As such, the hunters’ quarter was the biggest district in town, subdivided into dozens of different industries and professions.

Edge made his way past the Skinner’s Row, wrinkling his nose as he walked past several tanneries. He stopped for a few minutes to watch the skinners work beneath the noonday sun, taking on a project that was too big to handle in their usual facility.

They had a fifty-foot snake stretched out on a long row of tables, whose body was so thick that he couldn’t have wrapped his arms around it. It was a diamondback, a venomous beast with scales made of living gemstone, too hard for most blades to pierce.

The skinners took it apart scale by scale, using high-grade tools that they wielded with surgical precision. Within a few hours, they would have the entire beast broken down, sending the meat to the butchers, the scales to the armorers, and the venom glands and other various organs to the alchemists.

Maybe I should pick up a trade skill at some point. It would be a good way to increase the credits I make when hunting beasts. Something to keep in mind after I solidify my combat skillset.

Edge resumed his journey, heading past the Butchers’ Lane and then over to the beast hunters’ side of the district. There were five different types of hunters on Ord, although many of them dabbled in more than one subspeciality. In no particular order, there were the beast hunters, the bounty hunters, the monster hunters, the resource hunters, and the treasure hunters.

In Puppet Town, the beast and resource hunters far outnumbered the rest, although each group was represented to at least some extent.

As he headed deeper into the district, Edge passed by dozens of rugged individuals who exuded an air of menace. The mantle of might that came with having a core in stage-one. There might even be some stage-two hunters among them, since battling monsters and beasts were some of the most dangerous jobs on the planet.

It wasn’t easy to tell the difference between higher stages at a glance, especially since most cored individuals kept the details of their advancement to themselves to preserve their competitive edge. He knew some of the faces from the feed, but the broadcasts had censored critical information to keep new arrivals from having an unfair advantage.

Edge was still getting used to the fact that he was one of them now. That most uncored individuals would instinctively get out of his way. He got a few long looks and some appraising nods from the hunters he passed, but no one challenged his presence.

In this part of the district, the blocks were filled with plots of crops and pens for beasts, in addition to the buildings. Many hunters worked alongside beasts in the field, and tamed creatures were a valuable commodity. They were able to play a wide range of roles, thanks to the skills they could use.

Soon, Trapper’s Den came into view. It was a massive lodge made from some manner of redwood, with white clay tiles lining the roof. The facility was geared toward beast hunting with some resource collection on the side.

Trapper specialized in trapping, but her crew did plenty of old-fashioned hunting too. They were usually out stalking a wide variety of beasts that called the plains home, along with the occasional monster that wandered into the region.

When he walked through the front gate, a familiar face was there to greet him. Edge came to a stop, careful not to make any sudden movements as a triceratops the size of a donkey came trotting over to meet him.