While the evidence room might not have been as good as the armory, it was definitely a win. If there were any murder cases there could be weapons available along with a whole slew of other things. This particular room had shelves lining the walls with various boxes and bags all over. Letting the door close with a clunking noise, I started to peek into each and every container, hoping to find a murder weapon to start with.

  It wasn't a noble or even morally good thing to do, but I did find three handguns of varying types, and a duffel bag that was clearly used to run drugs. I even found a bolt action rifle, all of which I put inside the aforementioned bag.

  Everything else was left alone since I didn't want to be caught trafficking virtual drugs. That tended to put players in a negative light in my experience, unless the drugs could boost performance or skills. I didn't feel the risk was worth it, leaving the various powders and bottles where they were.

  I didn't find much else in the evidence room that I could feasibly bring with me, and I'd already done far more than I thought I originally would, so I hoisted both bags up and over my shoulders, letting the duffle hang loosely just under the backpack. From there I had to clear a few more bits of concrete and rebar out of the way to get through the hole without making too much noise.

  The night sky greeted me as I crawled on my hands and knees over to my hiding spot, grabbing the rebar club and stuffing it into the bag with the other items. It might not be an effective weapon for long, but it was better than nothing.

  I creeped up to the edge of the hole, scanning the streets around for any signs of movement. There was nothing more than the same abandoned cars and trash loot from kills that nobody wanted, consisting of prison clothing and other semi-worthless items.

  Taking a deep breath, I darted out from my hiding spot and down a nearby alley that led back toward the forested area. The sounds of voices not far off sounded fairly early into my trek back to Bastion, and I jumped into a nearby dumpster, closing the lid behind me as I lay atop garbage bags.

  It was difficult to remain still as my left hand remained clamped over my mouth and nose to keep my breathing from being too loud, the barrel of my revolver facing outward. The garbage shifted a bit as I tried to remain absolutely still, hoping for the best.

  Soon the telltale crunching of boots on asphalt and hushed voices told me they were within view now. As much as I wanted to remain tense at this point, I let myself relax just a bit so that the garbage beneath me wouldn't move around as much. "Are you sure you heard something? I don't see anything." A guy was whispering rather loudly, the footsteps slowing and then stopping maybe a few meters from my location. "Yes I heard something. I know I did. Just keep your eyes open. If it's a monster, I don't want it getting the drop on us like that little four eyed bastard. Nearly took a chunk out of me and I don't want to repeat that." A second voice spoke up defensively.

  "If it's bandits I want to be ready to run. I don't fancy getting shot either." His accent made him sound like a gangster from the prohibition era, the image of tommy guns and fedoras coming to mind.

  I didn't dare make a move, the darkness of the inside of the dumpster along with people slowly searching through the alley almost feeling like too much. Fear told me to jump out of the dumpster and start shooting, but logic forced that urge down and kept me frozen in place. The moment passed and I heard them grumbling a bit as they moved on, not bothering to check the dumpster I was hiding in. Why they didn't check it I had no idea, realizing just how often good things were found in trash cans when playing games like this.

  I sat there for a solid minute before carefully creeping back out into the alley and moving on, trying my best to walk silently. I almost succeeded, though I was undermined by the thick soles scraping against loose pebbles.

  I checked to make sure each street was empty before cutting across, calculating which alley or shortcut I could use based on sight and hearing alone. The real problem with sneaking back into Bastion was the forest which had far less cover than I liked. Then there was also the fact that players were patrolling the strip of grassland that separated the two zones, but I'd played enough stealth games to know that there was always a way through so long as I looked for it.

  It was surprisingly easy to get passed them with no world borders stopping me from simply taking my time and skirting around their perimeter until I stopped seeing players around. No time limits made it even better, since patience was one of the ultimate tools one could have at their disposal when staying hidden.

  Hiding in the remains of a gas station I watched for any signs of movement in or around the treeline, kneeling just behind the counter so that I wouldn't be observed in return. Nothing showed up for a full five minutes as I repeatedly scanned the area. Unfortunately the sun was beginning to come up again, so I ended up having to make a break for the forest, my feet pounding grass and then pine needles into the dirt.

  This far from the gate I didn't hear or see any signs of other people, things remaining thankfully quiet. From there I ran for the wall, then to the gate while the mounted guns up above both tracked my movements and panned over the treeline, scanning for threats. I wondered if a stray bullet counted as an attack on the city.

  When the guard station came into view I could see players hanging around the area, the guild patrols absent, though some were hanging around as they tried to enter Bastion. NPC guards milled about, processing the few players who came and went, occasionally opening the gate to let groups in or out. I sprinted over so that I would be back in the safe zone, breathing a sigh of relief as the notification popped up.

--------------------

You are entering the city of Bastion. Mind yourself while staying here.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

--------------------

  Processing was a tense situation, though I had a vague idea of how to make things easier, even as I was led into one of the small concrete shacks nearby, then sat down in front of a man who was obviously border security.

  The table itself was made from solid metal while a camera caught my eye, sitting in the back corner behind the guard. He was a dark skinned man with broad shoulders, a well muscled frame, and the most bored expression I'd seen on an NPC so far.

  "What's your business in Bastion?" His monotone voice clinched it. He was definitely bored out of his mind. I almost told the truth before realizing how monumentally stupid that would be, especially since I didn't know any of the actual laws Bastion operated by. "Trading. I'm a merchant caravan of one at the moment." I chose my words carefully, not sure what might be counted against me.

  "Got any papers?" His words were like a shot in the gut, and I felt like shooting myself in my big stupid mouth. At my hesitation he continued on. "If you don't have any papers then I'll have to check your goods. Please present your bags for inspection."

  I was either dead in the water or lucky as hell, and now would be the moment that decided which one I would be. "One moment." I opened my menu to see my credit balance still sitting pretty at just over three hundred.

  It took me a solid ten nerve wracking seconds to figure out how to get physical money since the markets automaticallyd educted the cost of the purchase from your account. I tapped on the credit icon and found I could select how much money I wished to create.

  I pulled two hundred credits out and hoped it would be a suitable bribe, setting it just next to both bags and out of sight of the camera, before tapping the table twice so that the guard could see the money.

  He took a moment to get up from his chair, a thigh holster visible along with a gun, the back of the slide glowing blue as he leaned over my duffle bag, making a show of unzipping the bag while simultaneously pocketing the credits. I could almost feel the nervous sweat running down the side of my head.

  He checked both bags in the same way, before zipping both up and sitting back down. "Everything seems to be in order. Welcome to Bastion. You can join the next group waiting to enter." I almost sighed in relief, though I didn't let the tension drain from my body since the camera was probably still recording just as mine was, the little red light blinking in the corner of my vision.

  Money opens up all kinds of doors.

  I left the room with both bags intact and soon was directed to stand in a decently sized green square with a few players who were also being allowed in. Some of them had the tattoo of a lion on their shoulder while others were marked with a shield that had been painted onto some fairly basic armor. There were even some who wore a type of uniform made up of a white t-shirt, camouflage cargo pants, and a little bit of mismatched body armor.

  There was only one other person who didn't have any obvious guild ties so I preferred to stay near them, though I said nothing. She was still dressed in the prison clothes, but she also wore a ballistic helmet and a leather jacket, a satchel at her side.

  Guess some of 'em did survive.

  It took a minute before the gate was hauled up and we were allowed to go through. The only problem was the guild perimeter had been re-established, and they weren't looking at me with friendly faces.

  I turned to see the other non-guild player looking at me with an expression of concern, the same probably being plastered on my face as well. I sighed, shouldered my duffle bag, and kept my hand holding the straps of both with my free hand.

  As I walked onward one of them stepped in front of me, hands crossed. I stopped where I was, not looking up at them. I spoke forcefully, my voice a little above a whisper. "Fuck you and your guild for going after normal players." It was then that I looked up at him. His face had been almost smug before it morphed into an expression of barely masked anger.

  "The fuck you say to me, punk?" He leaned in close, a full head taller than me. There was a time in the past I might have been scared by such a tactic, memories of bullies resurfacing after spending years buried in my subconsicous. I wasn't the same kid now that I was back then.

  I responded by slamming my forehead into his mouth and running straight through the perimeter while he was reeling from the blow, not even stopping to watch as his hand went up to his jaw out of reflex.

  I was gone before anyone else could do anything, running down the street and ducking into the first available alley, and disappearing the first chance I got. Regardless, I didn't stop running just in case.

  I ran past muggings, thugs, and the destitute, stopping only when I felt nobody was following me. When I thought about it, I wasn't even sure anyone had begun to follow me. Feeling almost disappointed I ended up wandering around, re-orienting myself so I could find the market again.

  I'd inspect my guns later when I could get them appraised, then I'd figure out how to sell them, either finding a buyer or a sucker, depending on how much the guns were worth.

  I found the market in seemingly record time, but all the legal merchants hanging about didn't make me feel good about trying to have an appraisal done. I decided to take my time walking around the edge of the area, looking for either less reputable looking weapon sellers or hole in the wall shops. I found neither that suited my needs. The shops I found were all legal, and any that clearly weren't I couldn't negotiate my way to the back room where the actual business was done.

  I turned to the forums once again, looking for posts tagged with keywords relating to illegal weapons dealers or people who could appraise items. Sitting down on a bench as cars lazily drove by I began scrolling, on leg crossed over the other while my bags sat comfortably in my lap, still firmly stapped to me.

  I hadn't expected to find anything that quickly, but it turned out there were three separate posts detailing some NPCs that sold guns or appraised items. The first one was simply listing out a general area where they could be found, telling people to head into an alley and wait since the NPC roamed a lot. It was likely bait for trolls or criminal players so I ignored it.

  The second was an image showing the outside of a ramen shop in the northeast part of town, in which one would have to speak to the owner, another image showing off a round asian man with square glasses and a bit of stubble on his chin. To get access to the back room you had to ask how many special orders he'd made that day. He'd then say a random number, recommend some ramen, and finally ask if you wanted a VIP room in which to eat it. After paying a small fee you would then be allowed into the back room where guns and various other illegal items were sold.

  The third post was anonymous, just a picture of a door in an alley with coordinates on a map posted in a separate image, along with the words "Knock five times, don't ask too many questions, don't get friendly, and don't piss him off." I bookmarked the second and third posts, uncertain of which would be better to go to.

  While the ramen shop might be more professional, I could potentially make an ally if I went to the back-alley shop and warned the owner. Either that or I'd get shot. I'd been taking nothing but risks ever since stepping off the boat, so I shrugged before standing up and heading toward the coordinates of the alley.

  Better to risk everything and gain so much more than to play it safe and never find my limits. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?