Levitating radios floated around The Wonderful Yellow, playing century old rock songs. A few drunks swung their drinks around, singing along to the music whilst most slept, face first on the drink-stained tables.

Bars aren’t the most lively places in the later half of the night, even when a holy fugitive barges in.

Leaning on the table closest to the entrance, Tenner heaved. An empty glass reflected his face, dripping with blood. He wiped the crimson drops from his chin, grinning at his good looks then turned to the doorway. It remained still.

Safe for now… Not like that goodfornothing scum had a chance of killing me anyway.

Flashes of fleeing through the dark main street of The Bars returned. As he ran--legs numb, stab wounds throbbing--he looked back, and far behind, a blue cross glowed. Then he caught a glimpse of a nightly street wanderer. Classless. Even on the run, Tenner had to stop and beat the pedestrian into dust. Other classless stared from a restpit in the ground. He hadn’t bothered with them--too much effort for cleaning too little evil--and shot towards the yellow sign at the end of the street.

Returning to the present, Tenner stood up and tripped. An odd exhaustion had taken over, like it disconnected him from himself. If he moved his arm, he’d recognize it only a moment later. And he saw the world not from his eyes, nor his mind, but somewhere deeper. Have I become the CHEK? Tenner thought, finding balance. Or is my heart just rushing and I’m breathing in alcoholic air at the same time?

Well, it could be a little of both. It’s definitely related to perks and using them a few dozen times too many to escape...

Behind the counter, through the bar flap’s gap, the bartender could be seen: the green-haired lady laid on the floor and giggled as her arms held her stomach.

“I’m not a teacher to be telling you the same shit over and over!” Chisel was the one tending the counter: four men sat in front of it, waving fists full of creditcoins.

“C’mooooon! Jus’ a lil’ discount,” a fella with a brown jacket and gray beard full of crumbs said. “Fo’ a trusted customa’.”

“You’re not an idiot--I hope--but it can be hard to read in situations like these so I’ll do it for you... One last time before kicking your ass.” Chisel pointed at a neon sign above a shelf full of empty bottles and vials. “Drink prices are set. No discounts...” she trailed off, eyeing Tenner.

“Right. Get it. But listen cause I got an unrefusa-- refusa-- refusable offer.” A moment later, the drunk got her attention back.

Tenner approached the counter, careful to avoid glass shards, spilled drinks and puddles of vomit. Then a hand, whose wrinkly fingers were covered in tattoos, grabbed his forearm. It squeezed with such strength that he stopped in an instant and trembled.

A man of at least sixty years sat, face on the table. He had white hair sprawling in all directions, faded gambler’s tattoos on his neck and a still smoking pipe tucked behind his ear. With one quick move, he’d grabbed Tenner.

[Sam Doctor

LVL: 16

HP: 184

Class: hench]

Not a bounty hunter? Then what in the world could he want from me?

“Fuck, you’re so new here yet so fucking wanted,” Sam spoke, voice mumbled by the table.

“There’s a reason why I’m Tenshot.” No way that he knows…

“I prefer your real name… Fuck, I’d prefer you didn’t stand here, living.” Sam squeazed Tenner’s arm harder. “Tenner, you’re hunted. I’m not a hunter and sure as shit ain’t holy. But I can be if it means taking you to Kristus: he’s offering two hundred credits to certain individuals for certain information.”

It’s been an hour since I left that church! A bomb of worry dropped on Tenner. How in the world is he so fast?!

“I can kill you if you don’t like seeing me here,” he uttered, composing himself.

“Where the fuck did you get the idea I don’t like the sight of you? All I said was you only bring good shit: a chance at a good payout and a chance to get drunk.”

“I’m not gonna die by your hand. Neither am I a bartender…”

“But you could soon be. See, Chisel’s love for money is bigger than her hatred of me.” Sam raised his head from the table and wiped his nose. “She lets me in. At least sometimes. Then I try and get a drink. Two fucking pints later, the bar is dry and I’m not where I wanna be.”

“Me and Chisel aren’t some sort of great friends. I can’t get you the favor you want.”

“You talked to her, I swear by my asscheeks, and she fucking looked at you not a minute ago. Get her to get me more drink and you’ll never hear a word from me again. Mouth shut. I promise. Well, maybe a little singing, but…”

“I can’t trust the words of people like you,” Tenner said. People like you are here to be hunted, even though you’ve got the spying skills of a rat with a hundred eyes.

“There’s something really fucking mixed up. You can trust the word of a hench, but never the word of a bounty hunter.” Sam squeezed Tenner’s arm harder to a point where if he put more strength in, Tenner’s bones would crush. “Now don’t test me. Just do this favor and we’ll be on good terms forever.”

Don’t tell me what to do, Tenner thought as he nodded. Sam let go of his forearm. Tenner rubbed it and twisted his wrist around, making sure nothing had broken. There’s gotta be a way to recognize Kristus’ cronies. A drunk sitting in front of the counter turned left. Once his eyes met Tenner--bloody and battered--they squinted and hands jumped to cover his mouth.

“Oh, that’s not good,” the drunk muttered, hopping off the seat, and ran towards the bathroom. “No, not good at all…”

Tenner sat and nodded to Chisel. In turn she shook her head and waved after herself. Groaning, he got to his feet and walked behind the counter. Chisel grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him against the empty shelf.

“Tenshot, right? What are you doing here at this time, looking like that?” she whispered. “Weren’t you off, falling from skies after you fucked around in my backroom?”

“This was the only place I could go. Well, the closest,” Tenner said. He summarized what had happened and the immaculate amount of trouble he was in. “I need to patch myself up again and credits to pay the rest of the debt -- you… maybe have a job for me?”

Chisel sighed, shaking her head. “Yeah. Lots of fucking jobs. I’ll have something for you in no time, but I first need you to distract those four-- three idiots while I prepare more drinks.”

“I’m kinda dying here and you want me to bartend?!”

“That’s right!” Chisel let go of him. “I’ll throw you 5C$ for the effort.”

“5C$? I need so much more than that. And I’m not--”

“Then throw you out, I will. Yeah. You won’t get any jobs, any medicine for that gut and you sure as shit won’t be welcome here again.”

Tenner morphed the fury and claustrophobia beating at his sides into the sincerest smile he could. And laughed. “You really think I didn’t want to do it? Nope didn’t think of that once. Wanted to negotiate more credits, that’s all!” The old him would’ve cringed into a corner at such words.

“Great, guess we’ll have a great partnership.” Chisel strode into her backroom.

Tenner collected himself for a moment and turned to the counter. Leaning on it, half of his mind figured its mechanisms out while the other schemed.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“So, rough first day at work?” A red haired customer said, swaying in his seat in front of the counter.

“This isn’t my work.” Tenner raised his head. “But it certainly hasn’t been an easy day.”

“Sure, everyone here can say that--”

“In--fuckin’--deed.” The other drunk slammed his fist on the table and crumbs fell off his gray beard, onto his jacket. If turned into a creature, he’d be huge, carrying swirls of long hair behind himself and the CHEK would call him vicious, even though he’d trip and fall before every attack. “An’ it would be sooo much better if we, hard working henches, got the drinks we deserve for a respectable price!”

“Got the credits for that?” Tenner raised an eyebrow and waited a moment. “Then--like Chisel said--shut the fuck up.”

The two drunks on opposite sides of the bearded one broke into fits of laughter. He followed them with a chuckle. “Say, new tendie, what’s your name?”

“Tenshot.”

“Tenshot.” The drunk rolled the word around on his tongue. “Shot, I’m a reeeeal goo’ guy. I’m jus’ low on credit. Cause the world’s gone to shit. If you lend me one freee drink, I repay you--that babyface of yours, that shittily hidden axe and that patch of period blood--double.”

Tenner ignored the deal. His mind was focused on what to do. Bounty hunters hunted him from every direction. He had to run away. He couldn’t clean the dirt while trapped under it.

“C’moooon, how dumb must you be? It’s a win, win--”

“Dumb? I made it through the desolation, killed hordes of monsters and climbed this Realm all on my own.”

“An’? Doesn’t make you not dumb.” The drunk laughed along with the two of his buddies. “I hench for three differen’ minds -- ain’ a genius ‘cause of that.”

“Yeah, Joey’s got a point,” the red-haired buddy said. “You might’ve had a few intense days, but that doesn’t outweigh years of daily hard work.”

Tenner’s eyes narrowed. “I was born in rock bottom. I got here by the skin of my teeth, stacking bodies and climbing them.”

“Pussy shit,” Joey--the gray beard--said.

“We see that every day,” the third drunk--a bald man with the chin the shape of unbaked dough--added.

“I wish you were a good bartender, but I guess you gotta learn a few lessons in respect,” the red-hair spoke. “Five years ago, I was your age. And I was sold off to work as a hench for half the masterminds in this Realm. I saw some real shit and still do. Same for these two.” He glanced left. “Don’t expect respect while you sound like an idiot, look like an idiot and do the job of a dumbass who can add two and two. You’re nothing but words. Honestly, I even think you're an idiot. Now, get out of your asshole and get us a drink, even if we’re ten or twenty creds short.”

Over the course of the drunk’s words, Tenner’s face dyed red. Along with his cheeks’ new hue, his arms started shaking and the veins in his eyes shot with blood.

“All you’ve done over the course of your useless lives was trash the world doing the dirty work for the scum of this planet. You’re nothing,” he whispered, leaning over the counter. “You’ll die having made this world worse, then you’ll be forgotten.”

“You got the right to call us what you want,” the red-hair shot back. “But we ain’t gotta listen, especially when you’re not even a drop better than us.”

“There’s nothin’ stopping me from putting a hit o’ your head too!” Joey lodged a finger gun against his forehead.

“Well, I can open a hole in your skull and shove that threat back there,” Tenner snapped, grabbing the drunk by the collar.

The gray beard cackled then blew on Tenner’s face, making his stomach turn from the stink.

“Get off me, dust!”

Tenner’s veins bulged, face reached a new level of redness while one hand grabbed the gray beard’s hair.

“Eat those words!”

The two buddies put their fists on the counter, cracking knuckles. “And Joey here said to get off him.” The red hair’s eyes locked on Tenner.

“I only listen to orders when they come from my own mouth.”

A swift pair of footsteps came from Tenner’s left.

He sighed and let go. Still, he and the three drunks stared at one another for a moment.

“You won’t believe what Chisel found,” Molly said, stopping behind the counter. She plopped three bottles on the table. Her afro bounced around to the tune of the alcohol in the bottles. “Vintage. So vintage it’s almost expired -- a good discount just for you!”

“Doesn’t look like you do,” the red hair whispered to Tenner and grabbed a bottle with a grin.

The words went over Tenner’s head: the sight of Chisel had emptied his magazine of anger. In fact, he was left thoughtless.

“Did I walk in on a...” She started.

“You walked in on nothin’.” The gray beard tossed creditcoins at her.

“Yeah, I got a drink in my hand, that means I’m happy.”

“Good.” Molly waved after herself. On the way to the backrooms, Tenner explained his fucky situation. Her presence seemed to cool the air. He asked what she was doing here and she answered, “The usual. Not everyone’s on the rise to the top of the leaderboard. I’m just henching till something else comes to mind.”

You could make your life more interesting and come with me. Bounty hunting… Obviously, what to say crossed his mind. Instead, he chose, “Seems boring.”

“I’ll have something exciting to do soon enough.” Molly knocked on the door and turned to him.“Did you get slapped by seven Dedodoons or do your cheeks always look like that?”

“What about the third option of getting a little stabbed and having a nice nightly run afterwards.”

“Those wounds are real? Are you okay? How much damage are they doing?”

“Don’t worry. A few a minute. Doesn’t matter. Offset by perks.” Tenner laughed it off. It did hurt. Especially laughing.

“Not good,” Molly said. “The more it hurts, the less damage it does.”

“Once someone gets shot, they either die or feel atrocious for a good minute,” he said, “while a paper cut is agony for days. You’re right. But I don’t have to worry -- my HP isn’t low.”

Molly led him to a room where Chisel swiveled on an egg-chair.

“This is the only slow place in her world of constant busyness,” Molly remarked and waited outside. With her gone, thoughts of the hunt crept back in.

On the meeting table, a blue crystal illuminated the darkness. Ultraviolet patterns glowed on the carpets covering the room’s walls. Beside the crystal, three potions reflected its light.

“Boy, no one could get themselves into so much trouble in so little time,” Chisel said. “Has it even been a day since Gi brought you after you fell from the sky.”

“Less.” Tenner drank the potions, leaned back in an egg chair and got why the mastermind adored this place. Its peace fought against the thoughts of the hunt. He turned into a simple kid, like the ones he used to know in Realm 349. He enjoyed here, and now wasn’t that bad. Then, the blue crystal reminded him of Kristus’ cross. He spoke, “I need to get back the hundred credits that were stolen from me, but no matter what, I can’t be out in the streets. Not in this Realm. Get me money for weapons to kill Kristus and a way to another, more sane place and I’ll do what you need.”

“The Wonderful Yellow guarantees safety and anonymity for all its clients. Along with that, we provide secret ways out of the Realm, ” Chisel said matter-of-factly. “Now, how desperate are you? It could be possible that Gi bringing you here was a great thing.”

“I’m not desperate at all.”

“Ah, I can’t employ you to wash the toilets.” The bar-owner laughed. “That would be a waste of your talents, which are mostly troublemaking, but fear not, because troublemaking is one big part of everyone exceptional. Honestly, I’ll never understand how you did what you did in one day.”

“You’re fully allowed to stop talking about what I. Give me an odd job to do.”

“Thinking, I’m thinking. A bounty hunter can rush in any situation, guns blazing, eyes on fire, and come out on top, but a mastermind has to master her mind. Three wrong moves and I lose everything. You’re a perfect example.”

I’ll let that slip… she is giving me a job right now... “You’re higher level than me -- anything exceptional comes with that?”

“Us masterminds get a whole lot more features than others. A bounty hunter won’t ever see them, but you'll probably have perks. Not using the CHEK is quite literally self-sabotage. There’s a ‘system administrator’, he calls himself. Though he’s just Bubrick and he has a place crammed with CHEK knowledge.”

Bubrick, I’ll have to find him. Tenner stared through the entrance to the room, scanning the backrooms. Gi trusted Chisel. Tenner did too. But not too much.

“First, I gotta say that Kristus doesn’t sound like a very nice individual, but he’s less dangerous than he seems -- it’s all in the looks. He’s old, mysterious and scary, but you don’t need to worry about that.” Chisel leaned forward and slapped a few numbers on the keypad in the middle of the table they sat in front of.

Yup, after hearing something like that, no doubt why I don’t trust her. The sights and sounds from inside the church could prove to anyone that it was more than an image. Even though Chisel acted better than everyone Tenner met over the day, he controlled himself and held off from speaking. She’s a mastermind. I could get so much more if I play right.

“Now, for credits and a way out, here’s the job I’ve got for you.” Light beamed out of the table, scanning them both -- Tenner’s CHEK spawned a map in his vision along with a brief summary of floating text beside it. The job Chisel offered would be the most risky undertaking in Tenner’s life, as dangerous as being flung off the Realm by a Worker.

This is exactly what I shouldn’t be doing whilst chased by half of the Realm’s population. Tenner frowned, a thousand things that could go wrong filling him with doubt. Then, the feelings he felt blindly staring into the statue in Centerplaza returned. This is also in the name of the greater good. The universe should protect me -- after all, I’m the one saving its ass.

“I’ll have this done in no time,” he said. “It could be five times harder and I’d still do it on my own.”

“That’s the spirit.” Chisel grinned, zooming the map in. “And here is what you’ll use that spirit for.”