"You're a hard woman to find," said the Orca.

"Why can't you just leave me alone," Redrim said. "I'm done with it all. I don't want to fight anymore. Or rob or kill or destroy. I just want to be alone. Is that so much to ask?"

"It is," the Orca said. He scratched the back of his neck. "We had a good run together. That we did, you know? But there have been some changes, and well, we've decided that once you're in, you're in for life, okay? You're in for life."

Redrim stepped back. "I'm through talking," she said.

"So am I," he said back.

The dozen hunters smirked or chuckled or laughed. Any respect they might've once had for their old leader had since faded. No honor among thieves, it seemed. Except for the screamy guy. The white and red masked guy. He wasn't even here. Where was he?

The Orca nodded at Vil and me. "Go on then. Kill her. Finish the bounty."

"I thought you were a missing person's guild," I said.

He waved his hands up in the air with exasperation as if I had somehow missed the punchline. "We are a missing person's guild. We find missing people. We make people go missing. That's how it works, okay? Do you understand? You somehow found a way through the forest, we followed your trail, and now we want you to make her go missing."

I looked at Vil, and he at me, and together we glanced back at Redrim. Her eyes were sad and lifeless.

"Look, I could do it myself," the Orca said. "Any of us here could, but why would I want anyone of my guys dirty their hands with the former leader when I could just hire two stupid goons to do it for me? No offense, but you get it, right? It's just business."

"Business," I said. "You'll make us get our hands dirty with no real guarantee that you'd actually pay us the fifty grand."

Slowly, he smiled. "Only one way to find out, right?"

> Hmmm-click.

>

> +1 Shotgun

>

> Bulwark (Left) activated.

I equipped my shotty and shield. Vil drew his sword.

The hunters laughed. The Orca shook his head as if he'd just heard a bad joke.

Redrim whispered behind us. "Thank you, but there's no point anymore. It's done."

The Orca clapped his hands. "See, what you don't understand is that I got a bullet with her name on it." He drew a pistol, a strange one. Pitch black and etched in red. He clicked off the safety and tapped his thigh with it. "Last chance, okay? Do or die."

Vil and I stood between them. He stuck out his manashield, and I thrust out my bulwark shield.

The Orca aimed.

I raised the shotty.

He fired just as I did.

And the world lurched to a crawl, and in that blink of time, I could see the pellets of my shotgun spread across their numbers, and coming my way, the Orca's bullet. I would block it. But as it eased closer, it blossomed into four transparent copies of itself, spread out to go around both Vil and me, and coalesced back into physicality--

To strike Redrim in the gut.

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His hunters winced as my shotgun pellets sprayed among them, but the shards of metal sparked off a magic shield. They were protected.

Redrim thumped on the ground behind me. Vil hurried to her aid. "Redrim," he said. "Cover me while I heal her."

> Hmmm-click.

>

> +1 Nullification Grenade

>

> +1 Emulsification Grenade

"Right," I said as I drew out my toys.

The Orca stood proud. His hunters behind him chuckled like devils. "Two Redrims, huh?" he said.

Goddamnit.

"There were rumors that the new Redrim was in town, and what do you know--" He drew out a folded piece of paper and tossed it toward me. It unfolded, and there in the grass was a sketch of my face (and Vil's) staring back. "We had a bounty for you, too!" he said. "Apparently," he nodded at his hunters, "you're also a man who needs to go missing, and you're just in luck!"

He flicked open his pistol--the spent casing flung elsewhere--and he scribbled something on a fresh round. It was my name! Shit! He was using curse magic on bullets!

I threw a potion at him.

He ducked.

The potion shattered among his hunters, and the blue wave pulsed out with a burst of wind.

I reared back to throw the next.

The Orca aimed his pistol.

I hurled the emulsification potion.

The Orca squeezed the trigger.

And just as the potion made contact with his skin, it evaporated into steam.

The hunters cried out in shock. Some stumbled back.

The Orca stood motionless. His face was pale, contorted with pain, but ultimately frozen. From his chest, a longsword that dripped scarlet. He toppled in the grass.

Standing in his place: the white-and-red masked screamy guy with the longsword in hand. He tilted his head at me and gripped his sword. "Redrim, was it? I figured one of you were the correct one."

The hunters in the back drew their weapons, but a burst of red air slapped against them, throwing them back into the darkness of the forest. This masked interloper was a high-level magic-user.

"Let's play a game..." he said. The anger in his voice began to simmer. "You show me YOURS, and I'll show you mine." He laughed fakely. "Faces, that is."

Vil was still healing Redrim, and he was giving it everything he had. I'd have to deal with this lunatic alone.

> Heart of the Masochist activated.

I shook my head. "Sorry, buddy, but that's a bad deal. I don't care who you are."

> Hmm-click.

>

> +1 Shotgun

I swung it out and pulled the trigger.

The gun fired with a flash, a pop, a tug of recoil, and the pellets sparked off his manashield. Just as the muzzle flash subsided, I could see him mid-strike, longsword aimed to kill.

I parried with my bulwark shield.

His blade dug deep into the metal, and just as the resistance began to slow his attack, he pulled in--chambered his blade for a stab--and thrust.

This was familiar to me. But how?

I parried with a shield swipe.

> Hmm-click.

>

> +1 Longsword (Rare)

He drew back, countered.

I parried with the longsword, and we held against each other.

The hunters returned from the forest. Screaming. Something was chasing them from the darkness. I didn't have time to care. I struggled hard against this strangely familiar guy, and he was overpowering me. My instincts, my muscle memory told me that right as he broke through my defense, he'd slash, recoil, and thrust.

A hunter from the forest barked out. "It's alive! The forest is--" Something snatched him by the ankle, and he flopped on his face and was pulled back in.

My opponent slashed through--sparks erupted, metal clanged and vibrated up my arms--he drew back--

I rolled to his flank--

And he thrust--

And missed! Coming out of my roll, I swung wide my longsword--the edge slicing through the grass--and he jumped back, parried midair, and landed away from me.

"Impossible," he said plainly. "Who are you to predict my dance?"

I knew him. We had known each other. But from where? Was he a member of my party? Why couldn't I remember?

"What is your name?" I asked.

"I thought you didn't like the game," he said.

Footfalls pounded from the forest again. More hunters. Some had been bloodied, wounded, limping. Something was obviously in there, but it couldn't have been more dangerous than this guy.

The white-masked guy raised his longsword, channeled a flame, and pointed it back at the hunters as if shooting over his shoulder. A red flame erupted among them, catching leaves and branches on fire, and the trees--what the fuck?--the trees vibrated as if electrified. The canopy shook, the entire forest was humming, no, growling.

Another hunter ran toward us. Not to fight, but as if we would somehow save him.

His mask had been ripped off. He was just an ordinary middle-aged man. With tears in his eyes, his face wrought with fear, he reached out to us--

And a black blur slammed down behind him.

The blur coalesced into a man-shaped being, but this--this was far more than a man.

Black leather boots. No pants. Thick calves and thighs. A bulging man-thong. Skin-tight black leather shirt. Tall. Muscular. A luxurious blond beard. A black mask over his eyes. And on the top of his head, a thin golden crown.