A trail of corpses, toppled machines and tables--nothing unusual to evil corporation break-ins--led to Klitch and Gibby. The former ravaged through rows of cubicles, rumbling, “Where is it? Where is it?!”

“What you looking for?” Tenner asked.

“Blueprints,” Klitch answered, running to the other end of the room. “I'd prefer getting them without being mauled by a Blogogo!”

“Don’t worry -- I took care of it.”

Klitch stopped. In the midst of all the chaos, he seemed outrageously out of place, processing what he’d heard. His eyes scanned Tenner.

“Falling a dozen meters isn’t that bad for a Blogogo, but getting crushed by a falling shelf ends in a whole new level of dead.”

“Wonderful.” The bandit leader flashed a grin. And returned to searching at an even faster pace.

“Bought us an entire second,” Gibby said. “Shows how fucked we are if the death of a Blogogo didn’t make the situation any better.”

A second ain’t nothing. “What type of blueprints you looking for?”

“One of a kind CHEK Extensions. It’s incredible tech no one in the Realms around here has ever seen,” the bandit leader explained. “I wish you could imagine the problems we Hoods could get rid of.”

“And selling the blueprints would make your pockets fat.”

“That too.”

Tenner’s hand snuck towards his pockets, ready to cheerfully hand the blueprints over. After all, Klitch deserved it. But as his fingers connected with his pants, burning shot from the tips and into the rest of his arm and body.

“Help us out, friend,” Klitch said. “We’ll find them quicker with your help and get out.”

Don’t you fucking dare or you’ll burn, Tenner’s instincts said.

He held his hand above his pocket. It burned and he tried to sniff out a fire. The smells of blood and sterile office made it to his nose. No smoke. He could ignore his instincts, but if he’d done that before, he wouldn’t have ever made it this far.

Tenner joined the search. The three of them scoured for eons in break-in time: the bandits filled bags with other loot, but not with even a trace of blueprint. Despair entered Klitch’s face and the expression on it turned to a scammer’s whose con had been discovered.

Gibby said, “Hear that, wanderer -- your help was no use.”

“Something’s wrong. Time to take our losses in stride.” Klitch hung one of his loot bags on Tenner’s right shoulder. He shoved a briefcase into Tenner’s grip and continued, “Listen, you take this bag and this box, and you take care of them like you’d take care of a baby.”

“Throw to the ground and stomp with all my--”

“The time for jokes is past us. Follow me, but if we split, bring them to the Rusty Levita anyway you can.”

“These are levita parts.”

Klitch nodded, putting on two bags over his shoulder then drew a laserpistol.

“I don’t need to take care of these: they’re durable.”

“Maybe,” Klitch said. “But I’d rather you be careful or we could end up in a situation like this again.”

The trail of disorder that had led Tenner to the bandits now led the three of them back to the makeshift entrance in the building’s back wall. Before they reached the way out, the trail brought a group of private hunters--in exquisite suits, faces hidden by darkened glasses and Extension wires--to the corridor where Tenner, Klitch and Gibby were.

Three laserpistols pointed at their faces. Two pointed at the hunters’.

The disadvantages of an axe in a gunfight. Tenner covered his chest with the extra loot Klitch had thrown on him. And Klitch’s face soured because of that. Tenner kept the cover up: his will to live outweighed his respect for the bandit leader.

“Looky look, cleaning staff is here.” Gibby cursed, “More like fucking rust worms.”

“This is an unfortunate encounter,” one of the bounty hunters said. He had a mop-shaped patch on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll sit down and have a nice talk, and we’ll figure this all out.”

“It’s me you’re after.” Tenner raised the briefcase in front of his face. “I stole from this place while my friends here--James and Max--just carried the equipment. Let them go, please.”

“We’re not letting anybody go, but we appreciate the honesty.”

The private hunters’ gazes remained fixed and their guns held steady.

Shit, my genius tricks won’t fool these lunarists, Tenner realized. As the stand-off dragged on, other cleaning staff certainly finding the freshly exploded entrance, he searched for something he could do.

One laserpistol screeched. The sound bounced around the hologram-covered walls of the tight corridor. The red flash faded. Other screeches joined the echo chamber.

Stabbing pain stung Tenner’s ears.

After a second, Klitch was on one knee, Gibby’s back was to the wall, two hunters had died and the third hid behind a corpse. Tenner hadn’t been spared either -- he and his bags had soaked up half a dozen shots.

The last living bounty hunter peaked for one last shot.

It connected with Gibby’s gun.

The barrel combusted and welded shut. Klitch flinched and closed his eyes. The bounty hunter snarled, his eyes gleaming his intention. But Tenner wouldn’t let the lunarist use his lucky shot’s momentum: he tackled Klitch, ripped Gibby’s pistol from his grip and blasted.

The first three lasers sprayed metal everywhere. When the barrel was open, Tenner took one shot. It was enough.

He tossed Gibby the pistol and wiped a few metal drops off his face. His cheeks burned, but paled in comparison to the soreness of his muscles from carrying so much loot.

This is how elite soldiers and action heroes trained, he thought.

Gibby, having dodged death like the wrath of Centercity masterminds, had tears of fear. And Klitch couldn’t hold his frustration.

“What did I tell you?” He pointed at the smoking holes in Tenner’s bags.

Nobody tells me shit. Tenner followed the trail of mess to the exit.

In front of Harvest main entrance, waited one of the biggest crowds Realm 224 must’ve even seen. Four cleaning staff levitas floated in front of it, personal bounty hunters flowing from them in a never ending stream. The majority was suits with neon outlines. The genius minds among them stood like the tallest, even though most of their henches dwarfed them.

Most importantly, Klitch’s crew was nowhere to be seen. Either dead or at the Rusty Levita. Either way, no worries.

“We’re doomed!” Gibby snapped. “All the secret ways outta here lead us through that mayhem!

“Don’t be so naive,” Tenner said, “and follow me.” He turned to the entrance of a neighboring building’s warehouse.

The alternate path to Harvest he’d found did have a Blogogo and bloodthirtsty priest. Now there was no guarding creature, traces of Kristus and one follower in white he’d left behind. Tenner, Klitch and Gibby dashed past too fast for the poor lunarist to make any one of them out. Or so Tenner hoped.

Like the reasonable people they were, Klitch and Gibby followed him without question through odd turns and passages between towers. In a minute, the Hoods of Centercity welcomed them at the Rusty Levita.

Tenner fell in front of the rustling campfire. And heaved. He dropped the bags and rubbed his muscles. If my next level up doesn’t give me 10 strength, I’ll murder a village…

“Damn it, Tenshot,” Klitch said. “I forgot to say thanks..”

“No problem.” Tenner forced a grin and got to his feet. No matter the exhaustion, the flame of the hunt still burned in him. This was too easy. “I can’t stay a second longer. Gotta get my loot to The Bars. Gotta become the greatest.”

Yes, if he returned to The Wonderful Yellow in half an hour, he could complete another quest in an hour. He could keep the flame burning and leave this priest-infested Realm too soon.

“Alright.” Klitch extended a hand. “We’ll be making Rusty Levita not so rusty. Be safe. And come if you need to”

“May you draw all aces.” Tenner shook his hand and ran out of the parking lot.

***

Between highrises, red wires covered the wall to Tenner’s left and pipes, whose seams leaked and were either licked by rodents or dripped onto the ground, made up a system on the right. The water splashed under Tenner’s feet. Near Centercity’s entrance, a pair of splashes joined his. He emerged into a busy street going along the wall of ads.

Levitas were constantly passing him. He waited for a moment to run to the other side. Then a laserpistol pointed at his neck. Who, of the people that want me dead, just caught me? A hand jerked him around.

“Everything fair game.”

Inside Tenner, the flame dimmed to the darkness in Valerius’ pistol’s barrel. Not good, but at least not Kristus… Actually, how dare he intrude upon me, reveling in my own success?!

[Predator has succeeded! Manipulating being’s perception…]

[I Fight or I Die has succeeded! Manipulating being’s skills…]

Good, time to kill him, somehow.

“Yeah, fair game,” Tenner said. “But how are you gonna fight?”

“This look like fight to you?” Valerius laughed. “It’s an e--”

“Well, at least it looked like you had honor.”

“And do you?”

“Just robbed a massive corporation.”

Valerius nodded: he tucked his pistol in exchange for a knife that hung on his belt along a mop-shaped pin and a cross. Knife scratching the tip of Tenner’s nose, Valerius pulled the cross and the white line shot into the sky.

Tenner had a lot of questions. Only the word “honor” left his tongue.

“We have fair fight. It end when Kristus come.” The bounty hunter read the look on Tenner’s face. “I inform him when he needs someone found. It’s easy money. You’d be doing it too.” He let go of the cross and the line disappeared.

Tenner’s instincts shot through his arms: he grabbed the bag of Ames’ loot and threw it at the hunter’s head.

Valerius groaned and stumbled back. The ground rumbled from a passing levita. Valerius dodged an untimely death and the feeling of falling bent Tenner’s knees.

Chisel’s ingredients were under Tenner’s left: he could grab them, run away and live another day. But he was also certain he could kill the hunter now and end this game.

Tenner jumped.

“Honor!?” Valerius laughed and kicked Tenner in the chest, emptying his lungs. “Don’t you dare talk about honor, piece of shit!

Gasping, Tenner smacked into the wall of ads.

Tenner straightened his back and closed his eyes. His fists clenched. His legs tossed him towards the hunter. He’d accepted death a moment ago -- no need to worry again.

Laserguns and screams. He was unsure if the later were his or the hunter’s. Tenner opened his eyes. Four meters ahead, hiding behind a moving levita, Valerius fired at a shooter in the alley they’d left. Shadows hid that person, but their blue laserfire cornered the hunter, stopping him from peaking.

Tenner grinned, snatched the bag and fled, before the hunter could turn around.

The streets and highrises of Centercity blurred in Tenner’s vision: before he knew it, he was in the crowd surrounding the entrance, trying to get out. One hand held the bag of loot for Chisel, the other -- his axe.

A light scanned him and a Worker pulled Tenner aside. His first reaction was to squirm and try to run. After a moment, he realized that would attract a whole lot of attention. If I wanna get out of this district alive, I gotta stay low. He let go and the Worker’s hand slipped into his pocket.

Outside Centercity, in a restpit, Tenner took out a chip. It shone a text.

“Kristus wanted to say that you’re being watched. Not every second, not every moment, but always. You might be safe, but you’ll never be alone. I hope the lord helps you have a quick death.”

“I could say the same for you, Kristus,” Tenner muttered and nausea started rocking him. [Predator] reactivated. It would keep the unwanted senses away. And would help him notice his followers.

As he entered The Bars, crosses appeared on every surface and every person wore a white outfit and eyes that stared at him.

Tenner had to kill and destroy those walls until not a surface remained. His breathing stopped. His instincts begged him to wield his axe. He just laughed. I’m too good for these lunarist scum.

Certainly, they would die, but now he was after the biggest rewards. He wanted to win like he’d won against Valerius minutes ago.

From the lack of air, Tenner started to shake, caught a breath and stumbled into The Wonderful Yellow. He fit with the drunks who’d stayed to sleep at the place. He found an empty table and dropped into it.

The blue crosses were about to get him, even though it should’ve been safe here, they would.

The fear that gripped Tenner dragged him into sleep.