The darkness of the night sky was deep and The Wonderful Yellow was loud. Its doors parted for Tenner -- the bar was livelier than he’d ever seen it before. In fact, it overflowed like a sewage stream with too much dead hobo. Customers had to lean on the walls, squat around tables whilst drunks waited in line at the counter.

Making sure no unwanted lunarists followed, he trudged to the counter.

The bartender worked this time -- Chisel was nowhere to be seen. She’d most likely retreated to the backrooms. Yet someone here knew Tenner -- his name echoed from a corner. Tenner turned and met an excited gaze… Not a Kristus spy, at least. A familiar drunk’s tattooed hands waved at Tenner whilst his wrinkly head nodded for him to come. Tenner sighed and approached the man.

Sam Doctor sat on a comfy corner seat in front of a table fitted with holographic cards. A few of The Wonderful Yellow’s regulars sat around it. As they played, plenty of intriguing curses came out of their mouths. Combinations one couldn’t even hear from Realm 349’s kids.

“Want something from me?”

“Nothing, really. I’m just living my liar life to its fucking fullest.” Sam Doctor shook his head and grinned. “You’re hearing from me again. But what I have to say is worth risking my reputation as a man of his word -- I’m offering you a game of cards!”

Tenner’s intrigue piqued. “What game?” He asked, limiting his hope that the drunk would offer something Tenner had mastered.

“Whatever you fucking want. I’m an expert in paying off gambling debts.”

“So you wanna play Stardestructor against the best player in the world?”

Sam Doctor laughed, slamming his fist on the table. “No, I don’t wanna play against myself, but I surely wanna fucking play.”

Oh, that’s such disrespect! Tenner’s senses sharpened as he stepped up. “Make some room.” He waved for someone to get off.

“Whadaya mean?! This table’s full and a match’s in prog--”

Sam Doctor pushed the drunk who’d protested off her seat. Right before she crashed to the ground with her full weight, Tenner grabbed her with one hand and placed her on her feet. All in a second. Her eyes stared at her arms, likely wondering how she ended up standing, then stumbled, and grunting, headed for the exit.

“That doesn’t fucking matter when a legendary match is about to commence,” Sam said to the others around the table. “It doesn’t matter if we were playing something completely else or that you had money on the table. A claim that someone is the greatest in the world doesn’t come often. Even rarer is seeing two such titans in The Wonderful Yellow. Seeing them fucking play against each other is a once in a lifetime experience!”

Tenner made himself comfortable in the seat. He cracked his knuckles and warmed up his neck. A few satisfying pops and crunches sounded from under the skin. Then his hands pulled his sleeves up. He’d snatched a new outfit, a bandit jacket with chains wrapped around the sleeves for armor. His weapons were brand new--axe and laserpistol worth a combined 2,000C$--and haircut as well. Or hair-uncut as he let it grow out, though instead of stretching to his back, it got messy.

“Deal, Twisty.” Sam Doctor pointed at a skinny drunk with a shifty look in his eyes, then swayed the finger towards Tenner. “And while he does that, you tell me why the fuck you look so fuckin’ different. And why is that your level?!”

***

Finally, life’s turning around, Trin Trin thought with a big smile. The downward spiral began just two years ago. A pair of bad trade deals and everything he’d worked for was gone. No more Centercity, no more stacks of credits, no more everything he wanted. He was relegated to a cage in a slum Block. And even there he couldn’t wither away in peace. Damn bandits kept nagging him for protection fees and screams echoed throughout the night. Worst of all, there wasn’t a way out. A mastermind doesn’t belong in a slum. In fact, a mastermind down on his luck is a masteridiot, he knew.

Then the gangs disappeared. Gone. Simple as that. The slum was a starved creature that somehow found a meal on the last day its body could handle. People walked freely, kids played on the roofs of the Fields and the air carried a sweeter smell.

Trin Trin, newly motivated himself, started out a simple business like a mastermind was meant to. Sure, everyone could do that, but seemingly since the day he was born, he knew that his class belonged best in a world of schemes. The one he’d chosen to start his life over began with scavenging for scraps behind Centercity. He’d bring them to a hench for crafting, and sell home defense kits. A good day of business could make him think he’d move up in the world in a few weeks. At the same time, a good day hurt his back worse than a disgruntled bandit begging for donations with kicks and punches.

The morning of traveling the slums with his rusty cart had passed, the afternoon of scavenging was fruitful and the evening of returning home with a cart overflowing with new products was agony.

The hench Trin Trin employed had a makeshift workshop down the hill from his Block and the road between them was straight as it could be, yet with a bunch of potholes, and lined by fields of shanty huts, full of people minding their business… and enjoying the sight of Trin Trin struggling to push the cart up the final stretch of the road.

“Come on!” he commanded himself. “There’s literally nothing left! A few meters! Why does this rusty have to be so darn heavy!”

After a while of pushing, Trin Trin slowed. Digging his feet into two potholes, he extended his arms to keep the cart in place and rested.

“I could get a wire from the Block and pull this rusty up, but by the time I’ll return, it’ll all be stolen,” he thought out loud. “Frankly, I’d be lucky to find it with all its wheels in place.”

A black man passed him, half his head covered in neon tattoos, the other -- with long dreads. Trin Trin could faintly remember him buying a pair of self-defense kits.

“What’s up? Sleepwalking in a bathrobe?” The ex-customer stopped and turned around.

“Not a fucking bathrobe!” Trin Trin snapped, throwing one of his hands up. The cart rolled back and one of its wheels fell into a pothole. “It’s one of the most popular outfits in other Realms and a fashion statement in Centercity! You try rolling around a cart weighing half a city and tell me you wouldn’t fancy this!”

“I don’t know, shirt and some pants good enough for me.” The ex-customer laughed. “See you later. Maybe I’ll come around and--”

“Wait! You gotta help me get this thing to the top. It’s just a few meters. I’ll be eternally grateful. I’ll throw in a discount. Buy two get one free!”

“Listen, I’m… in a rush.”

“I’m not walking around butt-naked.” Trin Trin grunted. “I’ve got shorts under this robe.”

“Please, keep your distance from me.” The customer cracked his knuckles and pushed the cart.

Together, they got the vessel out of the pothole and started rolling it up the steepest part of the hill. Then, Trin Trin’s muscles cramped up and their progress stopped. The customer smacked his shoulder against the cart to keep it moving then put his back against it, but the thing remained in place.

“We’re not gonna get this thing up if we’re not working together!”

Trin Trin closed his eyes, heaved then kept going. “Yes, I know. Though don’t expect miracles from a mastermind with 3 strength!”

“You don’t need strength -- push like me.”

Trin Trin relucted for a moment then nodded and turned around. He pushed harder than ever before. The agony overshadowed losing everything he ever had a million times over. He almost screamed. These reminded him of the masterminds contemplating on the other side of the table during a massive deal. A new rod of pain struck his back as the cart started moving. Trin Trin let up and the pain subsided. The cart creaked to a damn halt.

Biting his lip, he pushed again, letting the pain swallow him whole. Stepping together with the customer, he got the cart up to the top of the hill and fell to the ground.

“I won’t forget this favor,” he said, wiping the sweat off his face.

“Good evening workout.” The ex-customer nodded and strolled back down the hill.

Trin Trin’s eyes followed him -- when the customer was gone, he got up and rolled the cart over to his Block. Keeping to his own pace, enjoying the sunset, he ended up there in seven minutes. As he stopped, Trin Trin came to the understanding that he’d made a slight mistake and he’d have to bring the cart to the other side of the two storey wall covered in hanging cages. At least it’s not up a hill, he thought and continued. And at least my Block isn’t a massive maze.

Ten crimson lines dripped on the wall. Trin Trin leaned in, brows furrowed. Yep, blood, he deduced, leading straight in the direction I need to go. Terrific…

Trin Trin followed the ten crimson lines to the end of the wall and made the turn. Not too many worries circled around his mind. He was too exhausted, too hungry and in too much pain to have mental power for other woes.

All the cages of his Block had fallen to the ground. Off the wires that held them now hung corpses. His neighbors and acquaintances. All pale and still.

Trin Trin gulped and turned back, hauling the cart after himself.

Life might be turning around… in the direction of death! Screw this place, screw everything, I don’t care if I die broke, I am not staying--

A figure stood in front of him. The sunset hid their details, but drops of blood, trickling off their fingers, could be seen. Who was this person? And why had they killed dozens of people? A new bandit king, it seemed -- Trin Trin fell to his knees, bowing. Like the mastermind, the reasonable action came first.

The figure laughed. A young man did this?

“Well, didn’t plan on it, but you can live... And spread the name…”

“Thank you,” Trin Trin murmured. The new, adolescent bandit king had gotten enough sacrifices and was gracious enough to let him live. Trin Trin was too tired to ask for more. But what was his name? “Spread what name?” Trin Trin asked, his heart beating harder with every word that left his mouth.

The bandit king pointed at the ten crimson lines of blood on the wall.

“Tenline? All hail Tenline--”

“Tenshot.”

Trin Trin’s eyes widened. And he waited a moment. Tenshot didn’t kill him for that mistake. Trin Trin grabbed his cart and pushed it away. He wouldn’t ever return to this godforsaken darn place.

The cart rolled down the hill he’d spent forever climbing. It was too fast and heavy for Trin Trin to hold for even a moment longer. As he let go, the cart accelerated even more and reached the bottom of the hill at an incredible speed. It crashed through a wall of a shanty hut. Screams echoed. Trin Trin could not care and--simply--took a different route.

***

Sam Doctor destroyed Tenner’s final card. A deep breath entered his lungs then his eyes rose. “And? What happened to the ghost?!”

“I found him a… servant,” Tenner said, dropping his hands. “Dash is trying to either die or become normal. And he’s helping me with bounty hunting too. Best ghost ever.”

His mind wandered back to when he conquered the Castle of Hate. Finishing off the leaders hadn’t been enough -- he also evicted every stubborn bandit who lingered on. Whole place to himself and to Dash, Tenner put the hunt into super mode. With books full of names of low level contracts and hideaways paying for gang protection, he hunted day and night. The days were wonderful for scouting, stocking up on weapons and potions. The nights were when he shined. Any worries of Kristus’ cronies, who came after him whenever he entered Via Light to shop, left his mind. In fact, every thought except for how to get the next to the contract was useless. The hunt was beastly and magnificent.

Apart from potions, whose empty bottles littered the Castle of Hate’s every floor, the strike of the axe followed by glaring numbers in his vision could keep him going for three days in a row. For the first five, he managed a level up a day. Then the contracts ran out. Tenner contemplated leaving the slums. The hunt can’t end, he had thought then realized that the potential for level ups still remained.

Tenner crept the night and hunted everyone foolish enough to get in his path. If Kristus could turn people into ignorant, self-harming fools, Tenner could kill them to stop any more evil from spreading in the future. Most importantly, he had to keep the EXP rising.

After hunting for four days straight, he awoke from a crash. His muscles had been sore from the hard floor and his throat itched from the chugging of potions. Like every morning of the hunt, he’d checked his character.

[Name: Tenner

Username: Tenshot

Class: Bounty Hunter

Health: 750

Money: 4513C$

LVL: 17

LVL EXP: 5422

BP: --

Intelligence: 25

Charisma: 10

Luck: 23 (+3)

Eyesight: 21 (+6)

Reaction: 15 (+6)

(-)Dexterity: 27

(-)Stealth: 36 (+8)

(-)Strength: 30

(-)Endurance: 27 (+5)]

[Perks]

[Way of the Door Opener II (?)

Bonus: +1 Reaction; +8% chance to succeed in picking a lock; A greater understanding of opening doors]

[Fate Is My Weapon III (?)

Bonus: +3 Luck; 10% chance to impair surrounding CHEK’s physical skills; The ability to do the impossible]

[Predator V (?)

Bonus: + 8 Stealth; -50% to the sound of footsteps; Being can achieve ultra focused states

Sub-perk -- The Smellings of Blood (?)

Bonus: Being can smell the blood of surrounding beings when activated]

[Tenshot (?)

???????; ?????]

[I Fight Or I Die II (?)

Bonus: + 3 Endurance; Being can survive 5 damage attacks without losing health; ?????]

[Crafty Hands For A Crafty Being I (?)

Bonus: 2% easier for a being to come up with a crafting]

[Animal Tamer I (?)

Bonus: 10% to Non-C creatures’ liking of being; Being can call creatures]

[Being vs. Machine = Being (?)

Bonus: 30% to the damage dealt by being to machines]

[True Sneakiness XV (?)

Bonus: 250 second +15 boost to Stealth when activated]

[Elevated (?)

??????; ?????]

[Private Eye (?)

Bonus: 20% to being’s perception of unusual occurrences]

[Still As Death’s Gaze (?)

Bonus: +500% to regeneration when activated

Debuff: Being must stare into death and be still]

[Trust of the Axe (?)

Bonus: +75% damage to axe weapon attacks]

[Last Word Giver (?)

Bonus: 100 second +1 boost to all skills and a direct shot of adrenaline into being’s nervous system]

Everything had risen so much that progress in the slums had halted. It was time for a break. And a new plan.

Twisty dealt the cards.

The table Tenner and Sam played at offered an altered version of Stardestructor with a separate dealer for two players to face off and fully focus on the game. No one had placed any bets so no pressure crushed Tenner’s mind. Though he had to prove himself as the greatest. And he started to sense Sam Doctor trying harder than usual. In fact, the Eyesight skill had a great bonus of the ability to sense the tiniest details. The same way he had tricked the ghost hunters, but ten times as efficiently.

Sam opened his mouth, waved away a voice in his head and said, “All in all, you sound evil as fuck.”

Tenner’s breath caught.

“When you fucked those bandits up, I get it. They’re baddies and their lives get to be taken. I could even say you did a good thing. You gifted the money to Dash -- also good. But what came after…” Sam shivered. “When I was a kid, bandit gangs started avoiding--how they called it--purging the parasitiuses. That came to a full stop a few years ago. They drew the line. But Tenshot stepped over. You slaughter hundreds of innocents for fucking levels--”

“It’s a world of natural selection,” Tenner snapped. “I only kill the scum who are ruining the world. I do it for the good of us all.”

Sam Doctor called Destructor. Tenner flipped the holographic coin hovering over the edge of the table to challenge his opponent’s decision and stared at his eyes.

“Tails… no, heads.”

“Should’ve stuck with tails.” Tenner placed his first card for Fighter. He’d drawn a decent set plagued by quite a few mediocre number cards. They’d have a purpose -- a suicide mission to weaken Sam’s frontlines.

“Who judges people if they’re evil or if they’re good?” Sam asked, snatching his pipe from behind his ear.

“I don’t judge before I kill -- I already know.” I don’t care what I do as long as I know for what cause. I’ve faced evil. And anyone who has can see that everything is justifiable to cleanse it.

“Sounds like you’re not making the world a better--”

“Enough. Focus on the game.” Tenner stopped Sam from questioning the one who knows and played his first attack, using a strategy he hadn’t in years. “Carrotnose” had Tenner hopping around seemingly random spots on the board while his opponent would follow and end up trapped because every move Tenner made was in fact meticulously thought out. Carrotnose had a big weakness as it required luck or an emotional opponent. Thank an axe, Tenner had both. He sent a few cards behind Sam’s frontline, making them move in random directions before suddenly ordering them homeward. Sam followed Tenner with half his forces. Tenner stopped the fake retreat and surrounded Sam: two cards moved straight and annihilated those who followed while the rest of Tenner’s deck, hopping from odd position to odd position, fought and won against Sam’s main force.

A grunt came out of the old drunk’s mouth then a fist dropped to the table.

“If you think about it, a few thousand corpses in exchange for salvation is not that bad of a deal,” Tenner said, nodding for Twisty to deal. “And considering rejection? I’m a hero taking these people out of their misery.”

“Do you even listen to what you fucking say?”

Tenner nodded as he checked his newly dealt cards.

“Then why the fuck do you say it?”

“First of all, you asked why I had changed so much. Second, the universe has a big debt to pay off. Third as I said, I must save this world.”

“Something’s not adding up.” Sam played his move and smoked his pipe. “Why’s Tenshot the judge and the saviour of humanity?”

“If not me, then who else? Who’s going to choose the life of a hero who makes tough decisions in the name of salvation over comfortable suffering? And to whom is the universe as indebted as it is to me?” Tenner said, Stardestructor moves flowing out of him with the energy of his words. “You can only begin to understand once you lose everything before you’re even born, once you have to crawl through the wasteland and face off unimaginable terrors, shapeshifting blakills and backstabbing desolation travelers, once you finally make it to civilization only to see it is more corrupt than the evilest creatures. How can the problem solve itself if it’s not aware that it’s the problem?”

Sam’s face showed a “Yup, those were words that came from your mouth” expression. He didn’t understand. And he didn’t have to -- not his journey. “And how big is the universe’s debt?” Instead, he said.

“Haven’t counted yet, but it’s far from being in the green.”

Sam eyed Tenner sideways and pushed with his final attack. In defense, Tenner spread his own forces out then sent them where Sam attacked. He won by sheer luck. A formidable amount of swears came out of his opponent’s mouth.

Sam went silent and for a minute, looked down, shaking his head. It tilted a few degrees up. “Do you have 10,000C$?”

“No.”

"If I've learnt one fucking thing over the years, it's not to play with those who have nothing to lose. Because they will lose. Then they will fuck you up to have something to pay with," Sam said, returning to his usual pose.

"Wise words..."

"From an unwise fuckin' man -- I bet 10,000C$ I’ll win this match."

Tenner choked as his eyes turned into two massive mirrors. “You-- you don’t have that--”

“I can bet something else.” Sam took out a knife. Its handle was black and rusty, but the blade was the sharpest Tenner had seen. The old drunk brushed the blade against his neck and stabbed it into the table, causing the onlookers to all flinch. “If I lose, my life goes down along with my amazing record. If I win, I take down the biggest evil I’ve ever seen before it consumes more of the world. So, are you gonna play?”

Tenner grinned. “Not accepting would mean I’m not the biggest evil you’ve seen.” He turned to Twisty. “I can’t not be the best at something -- deal.”