Well, here we are.You were woken up from a midday nap by the grinding of the brakes as the train arrived at X-X Station (pronounced "Double Cross," according to a clerk), and thus missed the first opportunity to queue for a quick exit from the car, as you were still quite drowsy and groping around to ensure that your possessions had (also) arrived unperturbed. Now you have queued behind a pair of rotund priests (Reformists, you think), as they gingerly step onto the platform and lose themselves in the sea of people. There are more people here than you've ever seen in once place, at least since you were a child. It's hot: hotter than it would ever get in Iscthymia. At least it's a dry heat there. Here you can feel every layer of clothing beginning to drip. But you can't take off your jacket just yet. It's dangerous, you think.If there is one thing you hate it's traveling over-encumbered, so, in the spirit of new beginnings, you packed only the bare essentials. There's a nagging feeling of regret as you begin to intuit that perhaps you wouldn't know what would really count as essential in this new chapter of your life, in Chaotzakka, with its fourteen million people. These are things you would've pondered on the train ride had you not dozed off immediately. You're carrying a hardshell briefcase, a backpack that's coming apart at the seams, and a little bum bag crossed over your shoulder. You lift your patrol cap to see more clearly; you don't want to remove it as your hair is almost certainly a mess, but the material is itchy. The cap and bag are from your year of mandatory civil service. The backpack is from your school days. The briefcase used to be your dad's.You're trying to get used to the smells and sounds. It seems like everything ticks, rings, or thuds in this city. You are buffeted by a blast of hot steam and struggle to breathe for a moment. Unlike a country bumpkin such as yourself, city-dwellers know to back away from the train as soon as they get off. That's why they call the station the "sauna." Just a little sample of that big-city wit for you.You thought you'd checked that you had everything before getting off the train, but a sudden irrational panic grips you and you fear having left your most important possession behind. But of course this isn't the case; you can feel its weight on your right hip. Still, just for assurance, you reach down with your free hand and grip your>Blade>Pistol>Staff
>>6338088>Blade
>>6338152Still, just for assurance, you reach down with your free hand and grip your blade. It was a standard-issue military saber in a black matte sheath. You had bribed the commissary officer into selling it to you; well, the bribe was the price you paid, you guess. He wasn't supposed to sell military surplus through unofficial channels, but perhaps he took pity on you.You were mildly ridiculed back home for choosing the sword. There are many practical reasons for using melee weapons as a bounty hunter, you mechanically repeated to yourself in your head, having memorized these justifications. Melee weapons can be enchanted with sorcery, or infused with ki. Magic... life aura. These concepts were foreign to the farmers and small-towners back home. Back there you were expected to pick up a gun and use it, like your aunt did. She was the best marksman in town. She tried gifting you her old revolver before she passed, but you were always a lousy shot. She died interred with her carbine in her hands. Isn't that weird?Anyway, you had demonstrated a certain aptitude for swordfighting, which you got to show off during your year of civil service. Everyone was surprised, though no-one was particularly impressed. Your mother certainly didn't know where you got that from. You came from a family of loggers. Well, maybe that sort of makes sense.You had navigated train stations in the past, but never one like this. The number of signs and arrows hanging from the ceiling and sticking out of every corner was more overwhelming than instructive. You couldn't even slow down; you could feel the anger of everyone behind you if you did. You moved off to the side and leaned against a wall while trying to figure out the right direction. You saw people pass you in a blur... so many people, the likes of which you'd hardly ever seen before. For a moment you felt like it was hard to breathe. And why had you come to Chaotzakka in the first place? Even though it was a six-hour train ride from home, you hadn't been to the city since you were a child, when your father took you to meet the Guild. Your memories of that trip were completely divorced from this loud and smelly reality.Well, certainly no-one forced you to come, but no-one complained loudly when you announced your intentions, either. A bounty hunter. You seem to remember a time in your childhood when bounty hunters were heroic, or at least somewhat romantic, figures. Now it's grunt work with shitty insurance, or at least that's how your friends from home characterized it.In Iscthymia there aren't many opportunities. Either you do what your family's always done, or you get out of town. Were you a more enterprising and sadistic individual, you could've found work in Tower Prison, as a warden or pencil-pusher. That's what all the kids who ate crayons and tortured small animals did.
>>6338180Then again, isn't bounty-hunting government work, too? Well, not really. Not unless you're really good. You're more like a shitty contractor.Getting your hunting license was surprisingly easy. Satisfactory completion of civil service speeds up the process. There was a basic physical fitness test, confirmation that you had completed basic education, some waivers signed... It was kind of a blur. You spend an afternoon in an administrative office and came out with a laminated license in your wallet. Speaking of, you fished in your jacket for your wallet and opened it to the license. There was only basic information about you, and a badly-taken picture. Under "Gender," it says...>M>F
Rolled 1 (1d2)>>6338181I'll roll for it and let the dice gods decide to me this time.Male 1Female 2
>>6338182Under "Gender," it says... "Male." Well, of course it does, you dumbass. Maybe the heat is getting to you.With a newfound resolve born out of embarrassment, you speed-walk your way out of X-X Station, not without some false starts and dead ends, by which you're forced to turn around and incur the wrath of other travelers. You notice, however, that no one seems to take issue with your sword. Back in Iscthymia nobody would care, either, but that's because it's kind of a shithole. In the city, are you really supposed to be open-carrying with no issue... ?The thought has barely completed itself before you remember that this is a city of bounty hunters. If you recall correctly, nine percent of Metropolitan Area residents are in the bounty-hunting business. That's three times the national average. You've always been good at remembering stuff like that. And what can bounty hunters legally do? Carry weapons and magical artifacts. Right.Along with your hunting license you received a handbook detailing the very basics of the profession: your duties, responsibilities, and privileges. Most of it is not good news for the hunter. At least the book states things plainly and doesn't sugarcoat it, unlike your recruiters did. You've finally emerged from the station and slumped into the back seat of a bus headed into the city proper. You curiously fish again in a different pocket of your jacket and the Hunter's Handbook emerges. It's bound in a handsome-looking, forest-green pleather. It almost slips out of your sweaty hands, though.It's going to be a while before you get to your destination. The bus is roughly as smelly and balmy as the station. But you take advantage of the roomy back seat and spread out a little. You peruse the handbook before departing for the city--you're not *that* irresponsible--but maybe it'd be a good time to review some of the basic concepts of the profession. You turn to the section titled...>Monsters>Guilds>Bounties
>>6338190>Guilds Let's find our forever home...
>>6338190>GuildsInstitutional knowledge is important. Getting paid to turn things in or knowing a monster from a man is comparatively easy.
>>6338191You turn to the section titled..."Guilds">The Guild is the basic organizational unit of the bounty hunter's group. The organizational structure of a Guild is derived from pre-legal "bands of rogues" and hunting troupes which were popular forms of defending communities from monsters and securing settlements. However, since the formalization of the Bounty System, the Guild has taken on a wholly new character.>While bounty hunters are not legally forbidden from acting alone, to do so would be--in nearly all cases--unwise. The common monster can outwit and outpace even the well-trained man. Bounty hunters organize themselves into Guilds both for survival and convenience.>The formation of a Guild must be reported to the District Bounty Office, and its members divulged. Any changes to the line-up of a Guild must be duly updated as soon as possible. Only registered Guild members are entitled to their share of the bounty, if a bounty is claimed by a Guild. For all official matters, the District Bounty Office or an equivalent officer will communicate with the designated Guild Representative, who will communite any news to all members.>Please keep in mind that Guilds may apply for State-Subsidized General Insurance (SSGI) for claims regarding collateral property damage and medical treatment. These benefits are lost by those who exit or are removed from a Guild.>A Guild is not simply a labor organization or a work environment; it must also be a place of comraderie and fellowship. In that sense, we remind you that the infamous practice of "bounty-stealing" is heavily penalized by the Office.>In any and all cases, intentionally causing grievous injury or death to your fellow bounty hunters, whether they be Guildmates or rivals, Is A Crime Punishable By Death.
>>6338199A stern warning... not like you needed it. Who ever assumed that becoming a bounty hunter gave you a license to kill?Well, with how some bounty hunters behave, maybe some people do. The handbook conveniently leaves out the reputation that bounty hunting has made for itself over the years. Billions incurred yearly in property damage, a 36% mortality rate within the first four years, intra-Guild corruption, and the famous "bounty-stealing..." That is to say, the practice of swooping in and killing the monster after another Guild has softened it, thus claiming the bounty.For how much money moves through the bounty-hunting industry, and for how important it supposedly is for the continued survival of humanity, you realize that a surprising number of things is left up to a sort of "honor system" among bounty hunters. Well, they are an unruly lot, and the government probably doesn't wanna get involved from than strictly necessary. You guys are glorified mercenaries, in the end.Part of you fears the prospect of having to deal with fellow hunters more than the monsters themselves.A sudden wave of grief comes over you. Your father could've explained all this more clearly. When you told your mother about your decision she didn't weep, but you could tell that she wanted to.
>>6338203The bus has crawled through the city for an hour when you reach the station closest to your final destination. You were immersed in the handbook, and then in your thoughts, for almost the duration of the trip. You lightly regretted not looking out the window and taking in the sights of Chaotzakka, but there'd be plenty of time for that later, anyway.By the time you get to Saturn Apartments it's well past 4 p.m. and the sun's beginning to acquire that "golden hour" tone. The residential complex is an imposing collection of apartment blocs with unvarnished concrete exteriors left exposed to the elements, but there is some uneven foliage to disguise the decay. The central courtyard, surrounded by deciduous trees, creates the illusion of being in an enclosed park away from the bustle of the city. But well, it isn't pretty.And it isn't quiet, either. By moments you feel like you're back at the station as people who move with seemingly great intention dart past you. You realize that the ground floor of the complex has been converted into a sort of shopping arcade, with laundry services, tailors, corner stores, what looked like a combination gym-and-video-arcade, a bath house, and other ammenities. Then there were the more bounty hunter-ish things: the blacksmith, the artifact appraiser, the discarded and badly-treated sparring equipment in the middle of the courtyard, as if this were a prison or something, and... all the fucking nonhumans. You remind yourself to phrase this more delicately out loud, but you have never seen so many nonhumans in one place... not like there's anything wrong with that, of course...
>>6338207Saturn Apartments is one of many crumbling flophouses in the city that found a second life by servicing bounty hunters, who are ornery, dangerous, and in need of specialized equipment, and thus make lousy neighbors for others. Every year, thousands of bounty hunters pour into places like this to rent a barely-furnished single room and operate from there. This is sensible, of course. Apart from having access to various hunter-centric services, you get to live alongside your fellow journeymen, creating endless opportunities for what your recruiter referred to as "networking." So before coming here you found the cheapest place and prepaid for a room.You meet the clerk, get your keys, and drag yourself up to your second-storey room. It's a little box with parquet floors and discolored white walls. There's a rusty spring bed, a stove, some basic furniture, and a radiator. The place must be some thirty square feet. At least you have--and this is unexpected--a balcony facing the garden.At first you figured that you would immediately fall unto the dirty sheets and sleep for untold hours, but a feeling of restlessness has gripped you. Maybe you should go out and wander, commingle with the rest, and so on. Or maybe you should...>Visit the corner store>Visit the gym>Visit the bath house>Go to sleep
>>6338214>Visit the bath houseWash up, get something to eat, maybe talk to someone, sleep. We just got off the train, then the bus.
>>6338217... You should visit the bath house, of course. You feel drenched in sweat and grime. You throw your unseasonable clothes upon the bed and open all your luggage in a fit. What did you end up bringing, anyway? Maybe four, five changes of clothes if you're generous and offensively unfashionable about it... underwear, basic toiletries, a couple objects with sentimental value, a chapter book you will never read... why did you bring this PepBoy Pocket Color? It doesn't have batteries.You gingerly return to the courtyard in a loose white linen shirt, shorts and flip-flops, where night has already begun to fall. To your surprise, the courtyard's been lit up--not just by a couple diesel lamps installed by the city, but also by hundreds of haphazardly arranged fairy lights wrapped around poles and trees, arranged like a web above your head, blinking warm with sodium. A cool breeze goes right through you. You suddenly feel a bit better--"Hey. You."At first this doesn't seem meant for you."No, yeah, you. I mean you. Come here for a second."You turn around to see a tall, human man. Swarthy, lean, bit of a five o'clock beard, hair beginning to grey, probably early thirties. And a big, cross-shaped scar. He's wearing a track suit.He sizes you up, then looks despondently beyond you and makes a "tch" sound."You're new here, right? You think you're gonna just uhhh, waltz in and fuckin' uhhh, take a bath. You think that's how it works here?"Not sure if this a rhetorical question, you venture a gesture that could widely be interpreted as yes or no."... Tch. Okay, look. I can tell you're new here. Lemme help you out a bit. You got a cig I can bum?">Offer him a cigarette>Tell him you don't smoke
>>6338233>Tell him you don't smokeI'd rather him not put it out on our forehead. Plus, smoking's bad for your health.
>>6338243The question doesn't surprise you. You've heard that smoking is like breathing for bounty hunters. You guess that when you're statistically unlikely to reach retirement age, you don't see any problems with ruining your health a little further. Personally you dabbled in smoking a bit with your friends, as a teenager, when it was a minor act of rebellion, but you don't have any on you right now...The man reacts to this news not with any anger directed at you, seemingly, but with a growing antsiness, presumably a sign of nicotine addiction. He kicks the dust around him. "Shit! I really really wanted a cigarette before my bath!"You ask him if he's going to the bath house. "Yeah, homie. (He pronounces this word awkwardly.) Let's go." He puts a hand on your shoulder--he is significantly taller than you--and gently, but firmly, directs you towards the entrance side-by-side. You find it unwise to protest.The curtained entrance to the bath house gives way to a typical varnished-wood reception area with a vending machine and even a ping-pong table. At the desk, you both receive locker keys and towels. In the changing room, the man does not hesitate to remove the entirety of his clothing in one swift motion--something that puzzles you as to how it is accomplished--and wrap himself in a towel seamlessly with his other hand, though he doesn't seem like the modest type."Welcome to Saturn Apartments," he says out of the corner of his mouth, not facing you, but rather stuffing his track suit into a locker. You have done the same, and quietly changed into a towel when he wasn't looking.The men's bath is a fairly traditional affair, with showers, hot pools, and a cold plunge. While the place has clearly seen better days, it at least looks clean and well-maintained. The steam gives you a momentary flashback of your train voyage from earlier, but now this is an entirely welcome feeling. As you walk in with the man following behind, you see a pair of figures lounging in the pool in the far back. It's hard to distinguish them, but one is large and the other is small."So? Changed your mind?" The small one speaks. He sounds like an evil, possessed doll from a movie you once watched.
>>6338254"I was just getting my buddy here," the man answers instantly from behind you. You turn to face him, then you turn back to the figures hidden in steam. Neither side is providing answers."Poor kid," you hear the larger one remark."Well then!" the small one pipes up, emerging from the bath. "I extend the invitation!""I accept the invitation, bitch," returns the man.Immediately you are plunged into darkness.
>>6338258For a moment you felt like you'd lost consciousness, but it was just the confusion caused by the sudden dark. You're in the same place as before. At least, you can feel the warm tiles under your feet, and the steam enveloping you. And you're still wearing nothing but a towel. Did the lights go out?"On your six!" You recognize the voice of the man who asked you for a cigarette, but you can't see him. On your six basically means "behind you," right?"Holy shit, wake up!" With your head turned, a hand violently grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you aside. Your head whips back to look at the place where you were just moments ago. There is a black, manhole-sized void there now.You struggle to break the grip of your assailant, but he lets you go before you can. He's the cigarette man; he's here, too. You have too many questions to ask but you feel like you're in mortal danger and thus in no position to ask them."Just don't get killed and I'll take care of the rest. Watch out for the little one!"The advice barely registers. You're still trying to figure out your situation. You strain your eyes to see beyond the dark, and then you notice it: non-Euclidean vectors, shining in all their wrong-ness. You are in some kind of subspace right now. Someone used a spell inside the bath house! You wrack your brain trying to remember your magic studies. This kind of spell belongs to the school of...>Sorcery>Wizardry>Alchemy
>>6338263So this is a gang initiation, and cigarette man is trying to get into the gang or something? Or he dragged us into a fight so he could have a +1?>Wizardry
>>6338265This spell belongs to the school of... Wizardry, that's right! Spatio-temporal control. What do you know about wizardry? It's less common than sorcery... It can be used to create spatial distorsions in contained "rooms" which "loop" into themselves... you can "unfurl" these spaces by finding a "seam" to pull apart... or you can take out the caster. Wait, there's a wizard here? Don't those people live in towers or something?"Three o'clock!"Okay, that's on your right. Easy.Someone is charging towards you from the dark. It's the large and bulky figure from before, except he's even larger than you anticipated. You estimate that being tackled by him would be more akin to being run over by a tank. In a feeble attempt to evade, your country-bumpkin civil-service training activates and you slide explosively across the wet floor, almost leaving your towel behind, but the man corrects course and is tracking you once again, giving relentless pursuit. He seems to be moving at a measured pace to avoid slipping. Perhaps he's not too nimble. You don't know how big this subspace is, but unless the person behind it is a generational spell-caster, it shouldn't "actually" be bigger than the bath house itself. And where's the cigarette man when you need him?! You have to...>Run away from the assailant and look for a way to undo the spell>Face the assailant head-on
>>6338272>Run away from the assailant and look for a way to undo the spellDo not fight a bigger opponent under adverse conditions.
>>6338275You have to obviously run and look for an exit. There is no way you are squaring up to that guy.You realize that you can move faster by sliding across the wet floor on your feet, as if rollerskating; the image is a bit ridiculous, but that's not what's important. It seems like your pursuer isn't dexterous enough to follow your pace. You're not hearing a word out of him. You're trying to think of ways to undo the spell, what kind of thing could you find that would serve as a--? Shit! Somehow, between the steam and your thoughts, you haven't realized until the last split second that you are running directly into the *other* assailant, the one referred to as the "little one." Up-close he looks short and lanky, but perhaps he's the one behind the sp--"You lose, bitch!!" Before you can even think of a reaction, a vaguely skin-colored blur comes out of the corner of your eye and removes the assailant from you in a swirling motion, as you realize that it's the cigarette man, who has taken him into some kind of flying wrestling grip. Also, he is buck naked by now.Neither combatant seems to have been defeated, but your base instincts kick in and you simply keep running. You begin to see the features of the men's bath. There's the pool. Will you take the plunge?>Yes; the key might be in there>No; gotta keep running
>>6338288>Yes; the key might be in thereFinally, what we came here for. God, what an exhausting bath.
>>6338291Something tells you that, if there's a way to undo this spell, it may have been hidden in the cold plunge. You steel yourself for a moment and jump head-first into the pool, comically leaving your towel behind you in midair.After a couple seconds of adjusting to the blistering cold, you open your eyes (you really hope this pool is clean) and swim deeper into the pool. And deeper... how deep is the fucking cold plunge? Oh, right, subspace. You feel like you're at least ten feet underwater. Parts of you are shrinking in unflattering ways. Then you see a twinkling glimmer of hope at the bottom. It's a giant drain plug.You're pretty sure this isn't the kind of thing that would be here normally; must be one of the "seams" of this "room." You kick your feet against the bottom of the pool and tug on the rusty chain connected to the manhole-sized plug. It's quite heavy, and you're running out of air. Even from down here you can hear the battle above. You close your eyes, summon all your remaining strength, and begin to hear a gurgling...... Which quickly becomes like the sound of a tropical storm. All around you the water is being pulled into the plug with supernatural speed and force; but strangely, you are not being pulled with it. It's not just the water that's draining; like ink dripping rapidly from a page, all the darkness of the subspace is being drained into the hole, creating a vortex of black that swirls around you but doesn't touch you, furiously absorbed by this open seam. The sound is so defeaning that you can't concentrate on anything on you just hang on for dear life. The cacophony reaches ear-bursting volumes and everything around you becomes a swirling twister of nonsense logic before it suddenly comes to an end.The lights are back on. You hear water dripping from the ceiling. Your eyes take a moment to readjust to the light, and you are almost afraid to turn around. When you get your bearings, you realize that you are standing in a drained pool of ordinary depth, your head peeking over the edge. It's over.
>>6338297"Well, you fuckin' ruined it again, Garrett."You look over the edge of the cold plunge at the three men in the bath. The hulk who chased you is now speaking. He is easily the tallest and broadest human being you've ever seen, packed with muscle to a degree that feels unnatural and perhaps inconvenient. Seriously, he's built like one of those action figures from your dad's time. Or a tractor. He's wearing nothing but a silver dog tag glittering through the steam. You feel somewhat embarrassed for other reasons.The man with barrel-like arms and a blond swoop over his otherwise near-shaven head spits on the floor. That can't be hygienic. "You can never let us solve our problems fair and square. Always gotta be a shit about it."He is addressing the cigarette-man. "It's not my fault you fuckin' lost, again, because the kid figured out your uhhh, your fuckin' party trick." Clearly he's in high spirits. But you won this one for him, right... ?A grave sigh. "You think I want the death penalty? I'm not gonna go around smacking the heads off of babies because *you* tricked them him this.""Yeah well. Won fair and square.""I don't give a shit anymore. One day I'm gonna rip your spine out your ass and write it off as collateral damage. Let's go."The titanic man walks out nonchalantly, having neglected to put his towel back on. From outside the bath you can hear the gasping and throaty laughter of onlookers. He is soon followed by the smaller, much-lankier figure.
>>6338304Before leaving, he turns around and faces the cigarette man. "That wasn't a *party trick* by the way," he sneers, having adopted a slightly more normal tone of voice, "that was at *least* a three-level subspace. But I didn't have time to... prepare."The man did not dignify this with a response, but only with a hand motion as if to say, "run off to daddy now."Only now do you realize that the lanky wizard is sporting a pair of small, black wings on his back. What the hell, a celestian? And a wizard? Here? In this bath house?You crawl out of the drained pool and look around the bath. It doesn't seem to have been damaged, despite the man's acrobatics. But some kind of dispute is brewing outside."Shaaaah!" The man lets out some kind of elated elocution and allows himself to fall ass-backwards into the bath, a kind of move that you're pretty sure is not allowed in bath houses. "Well, nice job! Now the place is ours for the rest of the month. Well, uhhh technically I won it for my Guild, but you obviously count as a guest."His devil-may-care attitude is almost infuriating. He dragged you into a potentially lethal conflict for... bath house rights?!>Tell him off>Try to play it cool
>>6338307You...I'm half of mind to challenge him for the bath house rights, just to set him straight. But then he'd pull some other schmuck into fighting alongside him against us for the rights to the bathhouse right back.>Tell him offLet loose, don't be a pushover.
>>6338312That's enough. Not only did he drag you into his stupid little turf war, but he did so *without warning*. You've heard stories of people getting trapped in the wrong angles of a subspace and being astrally mangled into some kind of screwdriver shape. Not to mention the other guy.You give him a piece of your mind right there, difference in power be damned. From what you could see of his performance in the fight it's obvious that this guy outranks you, but you're not gonna let him walk all over you like that on day one. If you do, soon enough everyone else will probably do the same. God, he didn't even let you grab your sword or something!After you give him the stern talking-to, he looks at you with a vacant expression, which then erupts into self-satisfied guffawing."Tch... listen, little man, you have yet to learn the uhhh, the ways of Saturn Apartments. Half the lodgers here are beasts and the other half are ladies, and they're worse," he was cupping bath water in his palms while saying this. Bizarrely, water gushed out between his hands like a controlled fountain, without any motion from him. It elegantly traced an unnatural path back down into the pool. Was this ki... ?"Anyway, sorry about that," he finally relented, though it sounded like an apology for stealing a pencil, not for shoving you into mortal combat. "Those guys won't bother you. It's beef between our Guilds. Been makin' my life impossible here. Laundry rights, gym rights..."All this talk about rights. It's like you're a in a combination schoolhouse and prison, except all the student-inmates can kill you with a look. But something about it jogs your mind. You remember the mutual acceptance they gave each other before the match began."Yeah, that's how it works," he continued, "the wizard's contract needed uhhh, two participants on each side. But we won. So they are physically... uhhh, magically barred from the bath house for the rest of the month. And by Cacubo's own magic!" He chuckled. "Pretty good work you did.""My name's Garrett, by the way. Lydo Garrett."
>>6338315By now you suspect that you're not gonna get through to this Garrett no matter what, so you sit down and at least try to enjoy your well-deserved bath. The abrupt change in temperature from the cold plunge to the hot bath is actually quite pleasant. Some other guys have now ventured into the men's bath, but they seem to take no notice of you and Garrett.Well, it seems you were right: bounty hunters are more dangerous than monsters. At least you're starting to learn the ropes around here. It really is a jungle, and being in a Guild seems to add to the hassle. But at the same time, maybe it's the only way to protect yourself...There is a lull between you and Garrett, but he doesn't seem to mind. Perhaps he has forgotten you're there. A bit ungrateful, to be honest.>Ask him about the other guys>Ask him about himself>Demand a reward for your efforts
>>6338318So that's how it is. Okay. Good to know.>Ask him about himselfMay as well, we're here now. Likely we'll be seeing each other fairly often seeing as we'll be attending the same bathhouse every night. If we press for a reward, he'll just say our guest rights are our reward. Or he'll give us a reward, but withhold guest rights and make us pay for it.
>>6338319Garrett's Guild troubles intrigue you. You figure this is a good a time as any to learn how it all works, so you ask him about himself."Me?" He half-opens one eye, waving away steam. "I've been a lodger three years." He uses fingers for good measure. "Our Guild's existed for as long. Things used to be pretty quiet at Saturn Apartments. Kind of uhhh broken-down, but quiet. But this year so many new hunters've come storming in that we're beginning to run out of space for everyone. So there's uhhh, friction. Some o' these guys don't know how to solve anything in the civilized way.""My Guild's called Three of Spades." Again, fingers for good measure. "I didn't pick the name.""The other guys, Giza and Cacubo... they're from this new gang, well not gang, it's a Guild. It's called the Dragnet. Pretty nasty business they get up to, apparently. Lotsa kill-stealing, that kinda stuff. We can't let them trample all over our home turf or soon enough I won't have a place to shit before I have to fight for it...""There are lots of other Guilds here, though. You join any yet?"You shake your head."Ahhh, well, big decision...!" He leans back into the bath. "No one likes a Guild-hopper, gotta pick one and stick it out. Problem is, everyone's in a fuckin' tizzy over the new Condemned Zone, so it may not be the best time to ask around..."
>>6338323He trails off here, as if expecting you to respond, but you have no idea what he's talking about.He reopens an eye. "You don't know?" His tone betrays genuine surprise. "Whole twelve blocks of the city, evacuated and condemned. Only licensed hunters can enter. Basically, the place is overrun with monsters and the Double O's uhhh, given up on it. They're basically calling it hunting season. You can just waltz in there 'n kill everything you see for cash. Not lots of cash, mind, but it's steady work. Steadier than bounties... You know, it's good work for the pest-control types."By pest control you know that he means Guilds that specialize in hunting large amounts of low-level monsters, collecting lots of cheap bounties at once. You know that these types of hunters are sometimes looked down-upon."Eh, but it doesn't interest me..." He leans back again. "Spiders 'n goblins-type shit. Small fry.""But, you know... I kinda owe you a favor. So, tomorrow I can introduce you to some Guild members. Proper Guilds, not like those animals. Maybe you can find yourself some buddies.""You *did* come here all alone, right? I can kinda tell.">Tell the truth>Lie
>>6338325>Tell the truth
>>6338325You sigh and confirm his suspicions."Yeah, no shame in that. Gotta watch out, though, gotta watch out..." His voice trails off like he's warning himself more than you.After a few more minutes of soaking and showering, you and Garrett emerge from the bath, get your things, and grab a soft drink from the vending machine. The cool night air feels amazing on your skin, though you can't wait to get back to your room and under the sheets. In the courtyard, hunters of all stripes have moved benches and chairs into an improvised open-air bar, and are cracking open cans purchased at the nearby deli, which must be making a killing off of these guys. The sound of lively conversation puts you in a placid mood. You get the feeling that this is what it's like most evenings."Well, gotta head off now," Garrett removes the towel from his head, still wearing nothing but his frankly filthy-looking track pants. Kind of defeats the point of a bath, but you're not gonna tell him that. "I'll be around tomorrow, hit me up if you want a tour. Take care and shit." He throws out a pretty corny thumbs-up and walks away to the opposite tower from yours, presumably where he lives.You can't say that you fully (or even partially) trust Garrett, and he did almost get you killed, but it's not like you're spoiled for choice, either. He seems like a good contact to follow-up on, at least for now. If you can find a decent Guild that will accept you, maybe they can help you get your first kills in the Condemned Zone, or something...Your head is swimming in new information, anxieties and excitement. You fall asleep almost the moment your head hits the pillow. If your mother or your friends back home knew, they'd be clamoring for you to come back immediately. But secretly you think it hasn't been such a terrible first day.[TO BE CONTINUED...]
>>6338333Thanks for running.
