Gritty Thingy Row, an alley market squished in between bars, overflowed with sad faces of poor shoppers, urchins and salesmen. It wasn’t the best market, but it had set up closeby and advertised nice deals. Inside, Tenner came across skin-crawling sights. Many of the shoppers had pieces of torn skin above their eyebrows, or dry wounds that reached their skulls: marks of ripping the CHEK off. Those classless sometimes collapsed, shaking, whilst passersby rushed in, snatching their possessions, and disappearing into the sea of people.
Everyone cared for themselves, the weak relegated to the bottom of those who stood feet.
At the front of the queues, Tenner tried to skip as much as possible, were rough stalls, made from bars attached to the buildings’ walls. They were overloaded with mounds of products and swift salesmen. Anything could be found there for a fair price.
“How much for the axe?”
“75C$.”
“30C$.”
“No, no, no.”
“It’s a awful axe I could make in fifteen minutes.”
“Then go ahead and make it!”
“I’m here to buy. Not a lot of people are interested in axes. Those who are recognize that it’s awful.”
“Too bad.”
“60C$”
“65C$”
Tenner fixed his brand new, long jacket and took off a new wire-covered mask, inhaling a breath of air, clean from the smell of a few hundred people crammed into a tiny alley. He tugged at his new axe to make sure his belt held it tightly and checked the last box of an imaginary checklist: shopping’s done. Now, he had to shop around for bounties.
Luckily, the whole city, like the road that had led him to The Wonderful Yellow, was simple, made up of a few straightforward avenues. They had countless intersections, but all the important districts--which were marked by massive floating holograms--and all the important buildings, stayed close to the avenues.
Tenner returned from a district full of bars and restaurants, aptly titled The Bars, to the canal he’d fallen into -- next to it was a hexagon shaped plaza.
Swarms of people passed by, some begged on their knees, and some slept under the massive statue of a man in the middle. It had four arms. Tenner had no clue why, but found four arms would be useful.
One of the statue’s arms pointed at the Realm’s main entrance, one to where Tenner had come from and one to a district called The Residents by the hologram above it. Neon ad-covered walls surrounded a massive district of highrises in the heart of the realm, where the last hand pointed -- Centercity.
Tenner gave each direction a thought then headed for The Residents.
Centercity was the biggest district and bound to have good bounties, but the queue to pass its great walls was at least three hours long. In that time, Tenner could finish half a dozen bounties.
On his way to the dark residential district, housing most of the city’s population, he planned. His balance had gone down to 53C$ -- without finishing a few bounties, he wouldn’t find a place to sleep, and wouldn’t get any luxuries. That wasn’t a problem. Tenner could forget innate human desires and live without any comfort if that meant glory. But 53 was too close to 0 and that had to be avoided at all costs.
Every few dozen steps, there were meter-deep pits in the roads, working as benches. They didn’t take up any space or interfere with traffic. There, Tenner would sleep. When he couldn’t sleep, he would hunt. A routine like that would bring him enough credits to get CHEK Extensions, leave this Realm and get inside the top bounty hunter rankings within a few weeks.
But that would all come once he found a bounty, which he found surprisingly hard in a dense district.
In The Residents, levitas shipped products to a hill near the district’s center while masses of people trudged through trash to the apartments above.
Tenner slipped his mask back on. Why anyone would settle for living in this sort of stink was a mystery to him. With a quick thought, he opened the bounties screen.
A few nearby contracts appeared, along with a problem. The CHEK showed the targets’ basic information while some bonties even contained descriptions. But there were lots of people: hundreds in the streets and thousands in the buildings.
How in the world would he find who he was searching for? He could go around, inspecting every person, but nine times out of ten, they would be hiding in their homes. Searching by description raised the same problem.
Tenner shook his head and turned back to the plaza. This wasn’t the place to begin bounty hunting: he needed an open space, crowded and far from any buildings, but where he wouldn’t attract attention.
To his right, people flowed out of a tiny alley.
Once again, Tenner stopped and turned, trying to get a look at what attracted everybody’s attention.
It was a not-so-secret entrance to a tunnel in the wall of a grayish apartment.
As Tenner delved deeper, he discovered it wasn’t just a tunnel: it went underground and expanded into a whole system, leading to countless metal doors with peepholes--hideouts of sorts--and other parts of the city.
After a few twists and turns, an underground lobby appeared, graffiti covering its walls, and sparking wires hanging off the ceilings. Like in the plaza, most passed by whilst some begged and slept. There were also street musicians and--even though bad at what they did--fighters.
Tenner grinned, his eyes shining from the CHEK’s bounty screen. Rows of names appeared in the nearby list. He could recognize at least five around him from the descriptions and if he inspected, he’d find dozens more.
This was what he should’ve been doing all along.
After a minute, his possible bounties narrowed down to three names.
[Alfred Page
LVL: ???
Bounty: 250C$
Crimes: personal injustice
Wanted: dead
Comment(s): 174cm tall, long black beard, back CHEK-Extensions]
[Not required to accept contract before claiming bounty]
[Garry A. G. Mod
LVL: ???
Bounty: 100C$
Crimes: theft
Wanted: alive (Deliver to Weapons For Your Children in The Sparks)
Comment(s): weird suit, dead eyes, shifty fingers, blue shoes]
[Required to accept contract before claiming bounty (failure penalty -- 20C$)]
[Ames Cap
LVL: 5
Bounty: 20C$
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Crimes: littering
Wanted: dead]
[Required to accept contract before claiming bounty (failure penalty -- 20C$)]
There wasn’t a bad choice. Each one, except for the last, was quite risky, but also rewarded well. Reasonably thinking, Tenner should’ve chosen Mr. Mod: the man’s crime wasn’t awful, he was wanted alive, looked weak and the reward was nice.
Tenner confirmed the target with an inspect then he shook his head. Something was off. Those bloodshot eyes with black bags under them hid something. An overworked employee wouldn’t rob a weapon store.
A man of medium height and a black beard passed Tenner, jogging at a pace which would assimilate him into the crowd within seconds.
Tenner had to choose now: go after the riskiest or the safest target? One of his nails lodged themselves into his thumb, causing blood to squirt out. The pain cleared his head. He spun around, scanning for a woman.
I’ll start off easy -- a city’s different from a wasteland.
***
Tenner leaned against a graffiti covered wall, eyes looking at the tunnel system’s cracked ceiling. A woman crept past him, a red scarf around her neck and two big boxes in her arms.
[Are you sure you want to accept the contract for Ames Cap?]
Tenner’s lips moved, quietly accepting the contract. After a moment, his legs did too. Though not too fast -- he had to keep the distance between him and the target at least a dozen meters.
Ames ascended out of the tunnel and went through a street crawling with shops and markets. Tenner found himself feeling like a hunter chasing a creature whose natural habitat was the bustle of the city.
The residents of The Residents had opened a rickety square of commerce atop a small hill, probably, to save themselves a walk to neighboring districts. Ames eyed one of the shop’s showcases then made her way down some stairs in an alley to a bumpy road. Atop its highest bumps--hills, almost--the top of the four-armed statue in the main plaza could be seen.
Thank goodness they don’t have to drive ancient cars around, Tenner thought, sauntering. This place would be the funnest and at the same time deadliest morning commute in the world.
Often, the buildings’ by the street windows opened to toss down trash that formed the piles on the streets. Other times, people hung out of the windows, smoking pipes and making conversation with neighbors. In The Residents, no need for Tenner to glance over his shoulders arose. It was better than the other districts, and he looked like nothing more than a typical resident looking for their shoddy apartment.
Ames stopped for a moment and looked around. Tenner’s heart dropped, his muscles instinctively flinging him behind a tall pile of trash. Even though he belonged in these surroundings, he better not let the target know how he looked, if she had any suspicions. He waited for a moment then let his head peek out.
Ames had returned to walking, now just one box in hand. She’d stopped to... drop off a package? She was a mailwoman?
There was a key difference between wasteland and city. In the desolation, everything was do or die, fast and brutal. Here, it was slow and calculated, but no less intense. Indeed, Tenner could ease a little and pay less attention to his surroundings, though at any moment that might alert Ames.
The target turned off the bumpy road, into a small street surrounded by apartments on all sides: balconies covered even the fake sky above.
Tenner counted to ten and made the turn as well. Right behind the corner, Ames handed a buff, tattooed man her second box. Smoothly as he could, Tenner turned on his heel, headed out of the alley and put his back against the wall. Maybe he should count to fifteen from now on.
When the alley came into view half a minute later, both people were nowhere to be found, nothing showing where they could’ve gone. No footprints. Not even a single sound.
If he lost Ames, the penalty would take almost half of his money. And that simply couldn’t happen.
Tenner quickened his pace then entered a sprint, searching.
Something red flashed by his right. He froze and turned around. The figure had disappeared, but a series of huffs echoed out of a meter wide alley, Tenner dashed into it, turning sideways to pass the ground level balconies blocking most of the way. Seconds later, he caught up with Ames.
The woman spun around--her scarf and black braid whooshing in the air--grinned and jumped out of the way. Behind her stood a two meter tall hench, veins bulging out of his muscles, tattooed hands holding a lasergun.
Tenner crashed into him, bounced off and fell on his haunches.
By the time he stood back up, Ames was in front of him again.
“Sorry,” Tenner said to the man, swinging his axe at the target.
The woman limboed under the axe’s blade, grabbed on the handle and chucked it at Tenner.
Eyes wide, he dodged and stood like that for a moment. How could she be so strong?
The woman used Tenner’s astonishment to pound his chest with punches.
[Warning! Damage: -5 to health]
With every hit, more air escaped Tenner’s lungs, he wheezed and fell into a crouch. Right where his axe had fallen. He grabbed it and swung an uppercut.
It caught Ames off guard. And vertically sliced through her left cheek. She cried out, grabbed her face and kicked at Tenner. He grabbed her leg and threw her to the wall. His mouth opened--
A pair of tattooed hands started choking Tenner.
Instead of orders telling Ames she’d lost and to stop resisting, only a few gasps escaped him.
Whilst he fought, shady individuals of all shapes and sizes surrounded him from every direction. Then the big man he'd ignored detained him and lent a hand to Ames.
“Got him, Cap.”
***
“New bounty hunter, eh?” Ames said, grinning. Blood ran down the massive new scar on her face. Her tongue gave the stream a lick. “No one else would be that stupid to do something like this. If you want to live, you’ll pay us and cancel the con--.”
“Did you just call the soon to be greatest bounty hunter stupid?!” Tenner snapped.
“Your nickname’s fucking Tenshot and you have an axe. It’d be fair to think you escaped from a kindergarten.”
“You’ll pay for that.”
“No, actually, you’ll pay, like right now.”
“First of all, I’ll take an apology. Until then, I don’t hear anything you have to say...” Tenner trailed off. Yes, his fury could only compare to that of a wrathful god, but no, he couldn’t argue with this gang. That might be the only dumb thing he’s ever done. It could easily kill him. He had to talk himself out of this.
Luckily, whenever someone was cheated in a game of cards, they always came for a talk. Tenner was the most prolific trickster of Realm 349 -- getting out of this would be easy.
He stayed quiet for a while, letting Ames speak.
“You’re surrounded by people who are stealing your every last credit and could kill you instantly, but you’re fighting for your pride?”
And? He raised a brow. Anything wrong with that?
“Kinda endearing, actually,” Ames said, “but oh how dumb. At least I get now how you fell for the damn littering trick.”
Tenner bit his tongue, which shrivelled like an eel, waiting for the moment to spit insults back at the gangleader. Yes, saying all those things would be more satisfying than anything in the world, but he preferred staying alive.
“What if,” he let a few words slip, “I fell for it on purpose.”
“What kinda purpose?” Ames’ eyes narrowed.
“To get all of you at once,” Tenner spoke without missing a beat.
An eerie air befell the alley.
“Your plan worked -- the whole gang's here… surrounding you. That’s what I don’t get. What are you gonna do, one against a dozen?”
“You’re lucky -- nothing,” Tenner said. “Remember my name: one and a half shots and you’re all down.”
“Where are you getting a pistol from, eh?”
“You really think Tenshot’s that dumb?!” Tenner snapped.
“Frankly, yes, I did, but you’re not completely dimwitted, so that’s good!” Ames turned to the gang and pointed her thumb back at Tenner.
A hooded hench appeared in front of him, holding a cube covered in wires. It was the same as the scanners in the Realm doors, and similar to the ones Gritty Thingy Row’s salesmen used.
“We could take his clothes, drop them on the ground and do the con again,” a voice murmured from the circle of gang members, followed by a few laughs. It was nothing more than a test to see if he’d snap again, giving them a reason to kill him. He wouldn’t give it to them.
“Wait,” Tenner said. “What if we worked together? You seem like you need money and I’m a great--”
“Thank you, but we’re good.” Ames waved.
“Now pay up, bigshot Tenshot,” the hooded hench said, the device in his hands scanning Tenner.
[Warning! Do you want to pay an untrusted vendor 50C$?]
Tenner hesitated. His fists clenched. His throat gulped. Yes, he thought, opening the character screen.
In front of his eyes, the balance dwindled to almost zero.
“Now cancel the contract.” Satisfied, Ames dismissed the hench. “Other newbies gotta be fooled as well.”
Sighing, Tenner navigated through the screens.
His balance went even farther down, a minus appearing in front of it, an exclamation mark ahead of it.
If this happened back when he was young and still in Realm 349 (a day or two ago), he would’ve gone on a rampage, no matter the consequences. Now, he didn’t even feel angry: his mind contrived revenge.
In the grand scheme of things, a little mugging meant nothing, not even a tenth of what was needed for a CHEK Extension. But he wouldn’t ever forget it. Before leaving this realm and becoming the greatest, this gang would face his wrath.
“I hope we meet again.” Ames dropped Tenner’s axe by his feet. “And you’d better hope that when we do, you don’t fall for the same trick. And you live up to that nickname, whatever it means, Ten.”
The whole gang momentarily left the alley, Ames after them.
“Really.” She stopped right before turning the corner. “What does it mean?”
“I fire once and hit ten times.”
“Ha.” The woman shook her head and disappeared.