I walked by the alley three times in my attempt to find it, the non-descript area just as graffitied as everything else in the area. The only thing that stood out was what looked like a homeless NPC sitting behind one of the dumpsters, a blanket and a hat turned upside down next to him as he played on a harmonica.

I tossed five credits into the hat, wondering if he kept a gun under the baggy duster that he wore over the rest of his ragged clothing. I said nothing as I passed him on the way to the door, though I did receive a nod as the tune from the instrument shifted from slow and soulful to just a little bit more cheerful. If he was a guard for the place he'd be able to buy a beer and a burger with that, and if he wasn't a guard, he might at least live one more day.

I took a deep breath as I stood in front of the door, grey paint chipping off of old wood, and a metal handle and key lock being all I noticed about it. I knocked five times while debating on if I was making a mistake or not. The music stopped and the vagabond pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a shiny new lighter.

The door opened just a crack, an old man peering out at me with a bitter expression. "Get in here before a cop spots you." The door opened fully and I stepped inside to see a double barrel shotgun pointed at my gut from a skinny fellow who sat back on a wire frame plastic chair to my left. "Pat him down, Clyde."

The door closed behind me and began putting his hands all over me. The feeling of someone else's hands on me gave me the urge to commit incredible levels of violence, but I held back until he was finished. I was on their turf now, so I let the NPC named Clyde unzip both backpacks as well, pulling out each gun as he went and checking if they were loaded. "Need to have some of these appraised, so I'd prefer to get them back once this is done."

I heard my Cobra being unloaded as everything was checked before the familiar weight of each was roughly shoved back into each bag except for the rebar club and my knives.

"You'll keep the guns, but the bullets stay with us until you leave. The other weapons stay as well. Follow me." Without missing a beat he moved ahead of me, setting everything I'd lost on a table before gesturing for me to follow. I watched the man with the shotgun as I did so, staring specifically at the model of firearm. It was well taken care of and shiny, two firing hammers behind each barrel with a polished wooden stock at the back.

The room at the bottom of the stairs was simple, with a counter that ran across the length of the middle of the room, a wire rack behind it filled with various types of guns that were similar to the things I'd seen the Horizon boat guards using, while others were closer to what I'd found in the ruins.

From pistols to shotguns, submachine guns to sniper rifles, I felt like a kid walking into a candy store, boxes of ammunition set up in glass display cases off to the side. If I could've done so, I would have swept everything into my bags and made a run for it.

Two guards stood on opposite sides of the room, watching both me and another player who was currently trying to get his hands on one of the rifles, but clearly not in possession of enough credits to actually buy it. His haggling was also sub-par, as with each attempt his words grew less and less persuasive.

The NPC behind the counter wore a white polo shirt, khaki pants, and big square rimmed glasses on his bald head, his moustache twitching as he grew more and more annoyed with each haggling attempt. One of the guards directed me to wait off to the side for the current business to be concluded.

I kept my hands in front of me so that they remained visible, having the distinct feeling that things were going to go south very rapidly for the player customer, and potentially me afterward, a drop of sweat running down the side of my head.

Not even ten seconds later the NPC pulled a silenced handgun from below the counter and unloaded three shots into the chest of the unfortunate player, his body turning to fragments before he hit the floor. The guards gestured for me to step up to the counter as he placed the gun down.

"I've had way more customers than normal in the past few days, so you've got fifteen seconds to tell me why you're here before I put a bullet in your skull." His voice reminded me of an old show about a teacher making drugs, though I hadn't seen much of it before I won the lottery, and didn't bother to watch it since.

"I'm looking to come to get a few guns appraised, but I can also tell you why you're getting more customers than normal if you'd like." The appraisal request didn't seem to faze him at all, though the mention of more customers did cause him to raise an eyebrow. My heart was in my throat as I said this, knowing full well that my next words would spell fortune or death. "Speak." I nodded once at his demand, shifting the duffle bag on my shoulder so it was less uncomfortable.

"Someone leaked your location and the method of getting inside, though they did so anonymously. I doubt the authorities know yet, but enough foot traffic might tip them off that something's going on. The leak is the only reason I knew about this place, and I came here because I didn't know who to go to in order to get my scavenged guns appraised. Figured I'd go to you first, keep the number of sellers in the city from dropping." I attempted to be as thorough as possible, hoping to keep the blame from getting shifted to me.

The NPC tapped his finger against the trigger guard as he listened, his hand palming the grip as he was likely debating on whether or not he wanted to shoot me. It was at this moment that I noticed his eyes were incredibly familiar, my blood running cold. The eyes of a cornered animal that I also had.

Hypervigilance was a terrifying thing when dealing with anyone in any shady business. It was always a coin toss on if they killed you or not. Trust didn't exist for someone with such a condition where friendship was seen as a trick, and any threats perceived as a warning of what was to come. To call my decision a mistake didn't even begin to cover telling him that his location had been leaked.

He gestured to one of the guards, jerking a thumb toward the back room. "Pack it up and get everyone ready to move." He didn't look away from me as he spoke, pausing as he stared right into my eyes.

"I'll give your guns a glance, and you can also have this so long as you stay silent." He pulled a handful of gold credits out from under the counter, sliding them toward me. "If you choose to tell someone about this, I'll find out, and then my people will find you." I nodded once in understanding as I placed my bags on the counter, laying out each gun for him to inspect.

Each one was given a cursory glance, though he did give the rifle I'd found a closer inspection. It looked fairly normal, a wooden stock, the barrel ending in a wide cylindrical exit. He pulled the bolt back and I heard a slight humming noise from what would normally be the ejection port. "Not a bad find kid. Looks like you found a recycler rifle. Less power than the lead spitters you have here, and it won't punch through any half decent armor, but it also won't run out of ammo on you so long as you keep it maintained." He paused again, looking over the selection as a whole.

"All this is worth a thousand credits, minus the piece of shit junk you've got." He tapped the rusted Cobra as he finished speaking while I counted the money I'd been offered. It was a very nice bribe for someone like me, totalling at four hundred credits, more than enough to by my silence. Hell, I'd have stayed silent anyway just to avoid incurring the wrath of someone just as hyper violent as I could be. Clashes between people like that didn't end well for either side.

I took the credits and stuffed them into my account, paying attention to each gun as I then proceeded to place them back in their respective bags, lingering a little on what he said about the rifle. I'd probably have to find a scope for it before actually using it.

I thanked the NPC as politely as I could before turning to leave, though I stopped as his hand fell on my shoulder. "South-east side of town if you want to sell. Stay out of the west side and we won't have any problems. Got it?" He said the last few words with just a hint of venom, tapping the handgun with his finger again. I nodded once, thanking him again before getting the hell out of there.

I was escorted out by the only remaining guard in the room before being handed off to Clyde again, who gave me back all the weapons and items I hadn't been able to take with me. I was then roughly shoved outside, the door slamming shut behind me. The vagabond was gone along with the blanket, a hooded player walking down the alley toward me, likely hoping to go inside.

I stepped to the side so they could pass. They had no markings, their identity concealed pretty well. I spoke up as they passed. "If you're looking for guns, don't go in there. They're moving locations and the owner's more inclined to kill you than he is to sell to you." I don't know if the player heard me or not because we both kept walking. I was going house hunting now.

As I walked down the streets I pulled up the forums and checked to see if I could put them off to the side. As a matter of fact I could by simply grabbing the menu and placing it wherever I wanted it to be. With this, I scrolled through the various threads being posted as I travelled.

People were getting more and more riled up on the American server, with normal players and smaller guilds fighting to break through the blockades every now and then, while apparently there was a small guild making moves in the Chinese server, having gone to war with a significantly larger guild, surprisingly managing to hold their own by fighting a guerilla war both in and out of the city.

The European server had devolved into madness in a day, several guilds all going to war as a legendary item was found by some mad player in the central area of the map which had been dubbed 'No Man's land,' the only available image that of an automated tank travelling through a war torn forest, its triple barrel main gun aiming at the one who had taken the picture, blackened and bullet marked armor muddy and imposing. It felt like I was watching the news, though it was far more interesting than actual news had ever been in my eyes.

The south side of the city took a bit to get to, but I knew I'd made it when the buildings were no longer that tall, only a few stories high at most. Patrolling guards were far less common here, NPCs watching me as I walked by. I kept my Cobra visible and loaded, warding off most of the onlookers.

I found a selection of abandoned buildings to choose from for my first deal, wrecked and filthy as they were. The ones I figured would work the best were an abandoned apartment complex, a parking garage, and a slowly crumbling warehouse. The house had some squatters nearby, the parking garage was a homeless shanty town, and the warehouse seemed like it could collapse any second. Naturally, I chose the warehouse.