Chapter Two

  The Bounty Hunters Guild was not very active. The same bartender, with his handlebar mustache from what seemed like an age ago for Ambrose still stood behind the bar. Currently, he was wiping it down, though he couldn’t see the need, the bar shined in the dim light that permeated the saloon.

  “See you’ve returned. Howdy.”

  Ambrose grunted, walking to the job board near the back.

  Almost immediately he noticed a problem. Mainly that nearly every job present was either for B-Grade and higher, or D-Grade and lower. Yes, he could go after the lower grades, he could probably do it very quickly, but doing so would yield him negligible returns for the tree. He’d be at it for ages until the tree got the energy he needed.

  There was one poster that got his attention. The man looked like a cyborg, with metal woven into his brows, and his eyes looked mechanical, as if someone had installed arrays into him like some kind of computer you slotted parts into.

  He stroked his beard, narrowing his eyes as he studied the photos.

  “He’s a mean one, that’s for sure.” The barman had stepped up beside him, nodding to the photo.

  Ambrose wasn’t in the mood to talk, but if the barman had information, he felt it was worth the conversation, as tedious as it might be.

  “Vorshawn Red. Worth five-hundred thousand SC. Why so much?”

  “He runs a gang in Viriol, a C to A grade planet. The man controls the entire C-Grade sector. Whole city is corrupt, even the law. If you ask me, I say we purge the whole planet, each sector is ‘bout the same as the last. But I don’t make the rules, eh?”

  Ambrose made a sound of vague acknowledgment as he considered. A C-Grade gang would give him access to plenty of criminals, which would make it far easier to get the energy from the tree he needed. Plus, he could get a considerable amount of credits for his effort.

  It felt like a done deal to him.

  “I want to take this bounty. Do you have a realm stone there I could purchase?”

  “Sure do, mister. Discounted even, since you’re an established member of the guild now, an everything. One realm stone to Viriol coming up. This one should put you in the C-Grade sector, the city of Alazan.”

  Ambrose forked over the credits, then paused. He needed as much information as he could get. For too long he had been moving forward like a locomotive. No slowing down, no thinking. He had resolved to try and be different, and it was time to start putting that into practice.

  “Anything you can tell me about Alazan?”

  “Hm. Can tell you lots of things. It’s probably a more advanced city than you’re used to right now, with Earth being newly integrated in all. Think all futuristic-like.”

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  Ambrose was almost excited to hear that. It meant he could bring his challenger with him. He had missed driving his car, even if he didn’t particularly need to.

  “You said it’s corrupt, how so?”

  The barman laughed, flipping the towel over his shoulder in an expert flourish.

  “In what way isn’t it, that’s the real question there. That planet is very similar to the society Earth once had, politicians, police force, the works. But while I would say your Earth culture had its bad apples, it had its good ones too. Viriol? I’d say a good apple is about as rare as a hen’s teeth. Real unfortunate.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cuz many of the people there are just trying to live their lives, and they suffer. Police don’t do nuthin’ for em’.”

  Ambrose grunted.

  “How powerful would you rate the C-Grades there?”

  The barman took a few glasses off the shelf, beginning to polish them as he spoke. If he was mad at being a physical wiki for Ambrose, he didn’t voice it. This was all related to the bounty, after all.

  “I think you’d be surprised at how weak many of them are. At a certain point in integration, many planets…stabilize I ‘spose. You’ve mighta’ seen it already. People just stop advancing at a certain point. Makes sense if you consider it. People want safety, luxury, comfort. Not constant danger, and death. Viriol is a C-Grade planet, but it would look normal to you,” the barman shrugged as he placed a glass on the counter, “Always the way, newly integrated tend to be more powerful than others in more established planets of the same grade. You’ve been forced to be. Now, don’t go gettin’ it twisted, Vorshawn would probably match you, and any B-Grade civilian would stomp you out, but other than that, you’ll likely have little trouble.”

  Ambrose nodded as he combed his beard with his fingers.

  He felt like the barman was underestimating him a little, but didn’t blame him. He racked his brain for any other questions he might need to ask.

  “Will this realm stone take me anywhere official, or will I pop in a random place?”

  “It’ll take you to the city, and yes, to on-boarding. They’ll charge you a fee to let you go, give you some papers, but that’s about it. Only thing that will hinder you is if you start being a nuisance, which, from the looks of you, won’t take long.” The barman chuckled.

  Ambrose didn’t laugh.

  He threw some credits the barman’s way and departed through a hellfire portal, straight to his car.

  His hellcat challenger was the precise shade of green as Alice’s eyes. He ran a hand over the metal, memories playing through his mind like an old song coming on the radio.

  She was avenged. She could rest now.

  Ambrose took a breath and got in. Luckily, he fit much better now since he wasn’t wearing full on plate armor. He triggered the realm stone and watched as a portal to a dark city with flashing neon blue lights, and the familiar cacophony of city life drifting from it.

  His challenger roared to life, and Ambrose roared through the portal.

  Straight into the cities on-boarding center.

  Officials in uniform shouted as Ambrose put it peddle to the metal, the roar of his car filling the air. He peeled out of the on boarding center, officials diving out of the way as he activated [Infernal Sanctuary] sending out silver chains of hellfire that ripped through the checkpoints in his way.

  Chaos reigned, and police scattered, unsheathing various weapons.

  Skills were levied against him, but Ambrose deftly avoided them as his hellcat drove through it all. His grim focus was on the double exit doors that led out to the streets.

  His chains lashed into people, cutting through skills, immobilizing others, or outright slamming into them, sending them careening into the walls with thuds and the crunch of bones.

  With an effort of will, his chains destroyed the glass exit doors in front of him as his hellcat growled out its roar like a living predator.

  Catching air, the hellcat landed on the paved roads, blazing down the road in a fury of speed. He dismissed his chains, looking through his mirror to see if anyone followed.

  None did.

  By the time Ambrose Severen was done with this city, Alazan would no longer have a crime problem.