“So it’s simple, really. First, you bet your money on a number and spin the wheel of truth.”

Doomlady, a woman of a fine age with graying lilac hair and a face of mystery, explained the rules of a game the Red Emperor’s Conspiracy Club played. A pipe danced in her mouth and ash rained on her open leather jacket with countless pockets. The Conspiracy Club resided in the bar’s basement. A bleak room, for certain. A haze of darkness hung within, rotting barrels of old drink covered the walls and a single light hung above the game table. The light made Doomlady’s pipe’s ash seem like falling snow.

By the table also sat Tenner, the bartender, and Green, a kid in a neon jersey with tight jeans and the expression of a man who’s seen more than his fair share of life. He cut in.

“Call it what it is -- a roulette.”

“Little good-for-nothing Nutweasel, listen--”

“Stop it right now.” The bartender frowned at Green. “Your cousin will talk now. You don’t reach her age without some wisdom and if you don’t listen to her, you never will see those years.”

Doomlady grinned, her eyes lighting up when the bartender ordered the kid to listen to her words. And Doomlady continued.

“If the Wheel of Truth stops at a number you bet on, you get a totem. Get a totem from each of the three colors and you win. Most people, I’m sure, aren’t interested in winning. You collect three totems? Then, you bet on a number and spin the wheel, and if luck smiles at you, you get winnings, huge as the web of lies in this place. If the Wheel decides against your favor: it’s a flush and you lose all totems.”

“It’s fun, but… That’s because it’s entirely a game of luck.” Green shook his head. “There’s nowhere where you can use your skills.”

“What luck?” Doomlady snapped. “If you play for long enough, you see the patterns! The numbers that love you and those that hate you! The threes and sevens, and nines will make you rich, and the ones will…” She trailed off.

Tenner leaned towards Green.

“Why don’t you play Stardestructor sometimes? There are millions of outcomes in Stardestructor, but in the Wheel of Truth, someone with high Luck could take everything…”

When the words left his tongue, the hair on Tenner’s skin raised up. Cards, I hate how I sound. He couldn’t bear it. His voice. At that moment, he remembered all the sins he’d committed and couldn’t believe how he was allowed to have a quiet, peaceful moment with a trio of strangers.

And the screams of the slaughtered, which were always there when he spoke, grew louder.

“Stardestructor is bad luck in itself!” Doomlady blew the dust off a mechanical roulette atop the game table and took out a deck of cards. “Draw one.”

Tenner’s eyebrow rose.

“The card you draw will be your team. If you win and if you are in the same team as someone else, the prizes are split! To make the Wheel of Truth more like life itself!”

The game started off. Tenner won a few dozen credits, losing some, paying more and more attention to how Doomlady kept stacking winnings. There were patterns. White numbers almost always rolled around when a player had one white totem, purples were always hard to get, but filled up all the totems quickly and red ones always brought a huge payout. Doomlady always betted on red. Tenner also found out that zero was the flush number and when the Wheel stopped on it, he could remove one of his totems. Slowly, he gained on Doomlady.

“How did this place start?” Tenner asked, breaking the silence.

“Doomlady thought she saw a ghost,” Green said.

“I saw a ghost.” Doomlady cleared her throat. There was not a drop of doubt in her words. “We were all once slaves to the masterminds in The Sky’s Eye, not realizing what secrets they were keeping from us. But all it took for the night to open my eyes was a quick encounter with a thing that shouldn’t exist. I was leaving my prison--one of the highrises next to The Sky’s Eye, where I worked--when a ghastly figure appeared. It told me all there was. And I couldn’t be the same. I couldn’t ever return to that place.”

“She lived in the streets, living off dropped creditcoins, searching for someone with the same clear mind,” the bartender said. “Until she found me. We knew we couldn’t live that way, but we couldn’t fall to whims of a liar’s society, thus we started The Red Emperor.”

Green grew more frustrated with every word Doomlady said. Hatred seeped from his skin at just the mention of the otherworldly and once the woman and the bartender spoke of their beliefs, the kid could barely control himself.

An interesting living situation these three are in, Tenner thought. He understood what was going on in Green’s head well and leaned toward the kid again.

“You might not believe them, but you’ve gotta trust me: ghosts are real,” Tenner said. “I’ve come across plenty in my life. Some are good, some are deceitful, but none were what you expect.”

Even though Green nodded, he wasn’t convinced. Soon enough, in a Realm like 676, the kid would experience something that would change his mind forever. Tenner was certain.

“I knew right from the start you were one of us.” The bartender tapped Tenner’s shoulder. “Tell us your story.”

“Bounty hunters don’t tell their stories. And if I was a person to break a principle like that, I still don’t trust you.”

Somehow, those words gave Doomlady and the bartender even more satisfaction.

“Will you give us your trust if we say what we’re doing?” Doomlady spun the Wheel of Truth as Tenner shrugged. “We hunt, like you, but not for credit or for pleasure. Neither does our hunt have contracts, nor does it hunt humans. We are after supernatural creatures. To unlock the CHEK.”

“The CHEK isn’t locked away -- everyone’s given a choice to use it,” Tenner said. “But I sense you mean something else, right?”

Doomlady tapped the device under her left eye.

“Yes, everyone, apart from poor, poor classless, uses what the CHEK gives, but it does not reveal its full potential. No, not because the CHEK is shy, but because its tongue is tied.”

The bartender leaned in.

“In your encounters with supernatural beings, have you noticed that their abilities are logical and follow rules?”

At those words, Tenner’s mind shot to Blackglove and the bounty hunter legend’s teleportation. Then, the Ghastly Death-Rodents and their strange reincarnation. The Dragontemple’s ghost and...

“But it’s not the perks, because what they can do is limited. Locked away.” The bartender put his hands on the table.

“There is something more to the CHEK than just EXP, BP, perks and Extensions,” Doomlady said, spinning the Wheel of Truth again. “Those who sit at the top of their class know this and they have the access to it. They can do things your mind can’t even imagine!”

“So how do you plan to unlock the CHEK by hunting supernatural beings? Aren’t you just killing them?” Tenner won the spin and drew his winnings towards himself. Over a few minutes, he’d gotten four times the winnings as anyone else around the table.

“The Red Emperor’s conspirators don’t say that.” The bartender smirked like the devil. “Not until we can trust you.”

The weight of a gaze landed on Tenner’s shoulder. He glanced over. In the darkness of the basement, the faded remnants of his past could be seen. A familiar figure, radiating with hatred and spite, stepped towards him, leaning to whisper into his ear. Tenner looked away, shaking his head.

“I’ll figure it out on my own then.”

All the talk in the Conspiracy Club died as the focus went towards the game. Doomlady started winning, grabbing Tenner’s take. After a minute, he had nothing but shock. How? Her Luck must be over 50, he thought and inspected the conspirator. His hand dropped. She had a mere 14 Luck.

Doomlady raised an eyebrow.

Tenner took the card he’d drawn at the beginning of the night and turned it towards everyone.

“I drew a black eight.” Then, he turned his attention to Doomlady. “Show me your card.”

“I’m not doing that -- the game’s still on.”

“It’s almost finished. You’ve got almost all of the totems, all of the tokens and the luck of someone who fell from the sky and survived. Now show me your card.”

Doomlady shook her head.

Tenner snapped to his feet, leaned over the table and reached for Doomlady’s cards. She snatched them and stumbled back. One of her steps rocked the ground and one of the barrels covering the walls tipped over and fell down. Green and the bartender jumped to their feet.

What’s going on? Tenner froze.

Something kicked inside the barrel. It opened. A thin, gray humanoid creature emerged and its mouth widened to the size of a hand, and it was sucking air, and it… expanded. In moments, the creature grew to the size of the Conspiracy Club. Tenner didn’t even have time to inspect it.

He was on his feet. His pistol was in his hand. As his finger pushed down, the bartender slammed the pistol out of Tenner’s hand, hissing at him, then turned towards the creature and shouted.

“Stop it!”

The creature froze. Its mouth closed. And it evaporated into dust. Everything went quiet. Tenner could hear his heartbeat. Cards rained from the sleeves of Doomlady, her eyes widening, her leg kicking the cards behind her.

“The cards we draw at the beginning do more than you told us. It’s connected with the wheel and it determines how the Wheel spins,” Tenner spoke his theory about the game, trying to forget the odd happening of a moment ago. “And you… Well…” He pointed at the pile of fallen cards.

“Congratulations, you caught on!” Doomlady said, stopping the game. “You’re the first one. The secret is out. I wanted to show you how easily people are manipulated, how the truth is distorted, and how lies rule! Don’t worry, I’ll change the rules: you’ll be able to draw a new card every ten spins, but you won’t be able to know what you drew.”

“Another coverup to hide how awful you are at making games?” Green said, narrow-eyed.

“Nothing to cover up. I am teaching you and it’s the truth. You have to come to your senses so we can see Logan dead. We three. We must make sure he dies.” Doomlady’s tone deepened.

I did not ask about this, Tenner thought. You very much want me to join your conspiracy, don’t you?

“Why do you want Logan’s death, Doomlady? I’ve been here a day, but he doesn’t seem like someone who would’ve wronged you/”

“Because, without a doubt, that weaver of lies bears the true potential of the CHEK.”

“That could be true -- I can’t inspect Logan,” Tenner said. “But his death won’t change much. And how will a seventh level mastermind kill him?”

Doomlady reached inside a pocket over her heart and took out a glass bullet. Inside, there was a black liquid with glowing skulls floating in it. A magnifying glass popped out of Doomlady’s CHEK. And she showed her right palm, the barrel of a laserrifle emerging from it.

Tenner held the bullet in front of the light, spinning it in all directions. He knew nothing about ammunition whatsoever -- he only used laserguns and axes. Though the CHEK did the finding out for him and a screen popped open.

[Ammo: Deathwish Metal Piercer

Damage: 1000 - 1500]

Tenner’s jaw split open and he put the bullet on the table, leaning back in his chair to get away from it. A shot from the Deathwish Metal Piercer could blast through one of The Sky’s Eyes walls and come out the other end, having killed everyone in between.

“You’re planning to blast Logan’s head off in the only place he thinks he’s safe?”

“When Logan comes out to bask his ego in a parade, I will be there, in Enforcer uniform. I will strike with irony! The Metal Piercer is incredibly powerful, but it won’t murder scum and that’s where the second part of my plan comes in. All the Enforcers will rush to help him and find the shooter. I’ll throw some poor fool in as a distraction while I kidnap Logan, making him think he’ll be safe. Then, all the truth and power will be in my hands. Beautiful revenge for what he has done to this Realm.”

“Let me know when you go through with it.” Tenner stood up. “I’m known for making dreams come through.” And nightmares too, he thought, but kept this tongue.

Green’s expression brewed with disillusionment. The bartender simply grinned. Doomlady let Tenner out of the Conspiracy Club. He left Nothing Lane and roamed the streets until his feet touched the main street. He went straight.

Whatever Doomlady had said seemed more like the truth with every step. Not even hidden beyond the neon sign light, every kind of awfulness went down: murders, stabbings, a bit of rape and the usual amount of terrorism. A few enforcers fought against the chaos, whilst most simply stood by, staring. Waiting for something worse? Tenner wondered, then backtracked instantly. There couldn’t be anything more terrible than what’s going on here! Blood flowing in the streets, creditcoins raining from the windows and there isn’t even a drop of slumnight to hide it all.

I need to do something.

“You’re such a despicable cunt,” a voice whispered in his ear. “You don’t need to do anything. Unless you want us back. Or do you think you’re better than us now? Oh, well, then you’ll commit the cardinal sin of murder without a cause. Remember how they hunted us? Do you want to be that mob that murders innocent people in a delusional bender?”

Tenner forced himself into a dark, crime-filled street. He couldn’t get rid of the voices, but he could try his best to ignore them and that turned his head into a game of patience and reverse psychology.

In this street, a man in a black leather jacket and a hood tortured a pair of passersby with a chain while another pair, unsuccessfully, tried to fight him. Tenner approached as his hand slipped to his axe. He wouldn’t kill the lunarist. But he could… Put him in his place, to say the least.

The man whipped the chests of his subjects, locked to the wall until their clothes either tore or seeped with blood. Then he turned around. A black mask covered his face. Black gloves held the chain.

And Tenner could feel the devilish energy.

This is an exception. He sprung forward, aiming the axe at Blackglove’s neck. This is kill or be killed!

Tenner swung. Blackglove’s chains whipped the blade, flipping the axe out of Tenner’s hands. Tenner hurdled towards the weapons. The chains soared after him. One slashed towards his neck. He dodged out of the way, slammed his back against a wall and punched the chains. When a split-second pause in the pattern came, Tenner drew his pistol. The alley flickered red. A dozen screeches later, the bounty hunter was on the ground.

Shaking with adrenaline, Tenner kicked the axe into his hands and chopped into the fallen Blackglove’s heart. Blood. On the ground, on the walls, on the axe… On the white half of the scum’s mask.

That’s… Not… Blackglove… Tenner dropped the axe and fell to his knees after it.

He could hear the cackling of the familiar voices behind him. The painful groans of the scum’s victims. And the mask of the dead scum turned into the faces of the slum dwellers he’d slaughtered.

As the faces flickered in front of Tenner’s teary eyes, the chains in the scum’s grip slithered, on their own, into Tenner’s hands. Slowly, confusion took over his mind and he inspected the device.

[Weapon: Programmable Slave Chain

Damage: 45 - 100]

[Options]

An idea popped into Tenner’s head. He wrapped the chains around his wrists and entered into the [Options]. A giant, convoluted CHEK screen appeared and Tenner gazed over his shoulder, at the figures still cackling at him. You’ll have no more power.

Later, wrists heavy from the chains, Tenner returned to the main street and found residence in a restpit. He wiped the blood off himself and scanned the surrounding area. Red eyes glowed in the darkness everywhere. Enforcers. Apart from the usual city skyline, Tenner noticed tall, windowless, gray buildings with nothing but twenty floors of lasercannons. There were, he counted, at least eight in Realm 676.

A ninth-level bounty hunter loitered around a parked levita. Tenner rolled a creditcoin. The glowing money attracted the hunter’s attention and she stepped after it. As she was bending to grab it, Tenner slapped the ground and the coin rolled back into his grip. His and bounty huntress’ gazes met.

“I need your services,” Tenner said. “You don’t have to kill anyone specifically, but everyone. Everyone who comes near me while I sleep.”

Hesitantly, the huntress nodded along. “You sleep… here?” A hundred credits fell into her hands. Tenner’s hands itched with dirt after throwing the scum’s life away, but at least the lunarist had had a decent bounty on his head.

The huntress pocketed the credits and any sense of bedazzlement or reluctance disappeared from her face. She unsheathed a poor laserpistol. The type that did 20 with every shot and a 50 on a critical. The type of gun to take three shots to headshot someone. The type of weapon someone really down on their luck carried around in case someone faced an even worse case of luck.

Tenner grabbed the pistol and rammed it into his chest.

“Inspect me.”

The huntress’ brows furrowed. Her eyes gazed upon invisible screens.

“Tenshot?”

“The one. Now you certainly know what I do. If you leave your post, shoot me or rob me, you'll be losing everything.” Tenner took a long pause. Echoes of screams and shattered bottles filled the silence. “Pull the trigger.”

The huntress shook her head and backed away, and Tenner grabbed her wrist, holding her back. “Nowhere to go and you know it. Listen to me and pull the trigger.”

She obliged.

The beginnings of a screech reached Tenner’s ears before the laser soaked into his skin.

“28 damage. Not bad. You’d need to shoot me only twenty times before I’d die. Either do that now or wake me up at five in the morning.”

He let go.

The huntress took a post at the edge of the restpit.

Tenner tucked himself in under his jacket and his vision started fading away. The outlines of lasers covering the Realm’s illusions were the last thing he saw.