Bounty Hunters Den

As I walked through the streets, my new flintlock tucked into my waist band, with a rusty metal pipe in one hand and a chipped knife In the other, I noticed a marked change in the gazes that followed me. No longer where they just curious onlookers, now it was either the look of greed or the look of fear.

They either wanted what I had, or feared I would take what they had. Occasionally I would meet a pair of eyes that didn't seem to want either, but those were few and far between.

After reaching the centre of the town, I began to sift through my memories to find where the bounty hunters den was located. It was a well known establishment in the middle of the town square. Literally the only place in all of Grassroots town that had almost no criminal activity.

I found the building after a few moments of wondering. It was the best looking place I had seen since I woke up in this world. Built mostly from stone, it was the only building In town without a broken or even a cracked window.

I pushed open the saloon style doors and sauntered into the place as if I owned it. I glanced around and took in the sights. Rugged, mean looking men and women sat drinking and talking at round oblong tables. Each of them better equipped than I was, some with rifles and pistols. Others with axes or cutlasses. Some even carried what looked like anchor chains, harpoons and small cannons. It was quite the mismatch of weaponry.

The barkeep was tall and built like a house. I walked up to him while he had his back turned and asked for a drink. "How much for an ale and some information?"

The barkeep turned and I realized it was actually a woman. Her face was rather pleasant, but her eyebrows met In the middle and seemed alive as she began to size me up.

She looked liked she could crack stone with her glare, while her voice was soft and calming "300 berries for the drink and information will cost you at least 500 more, or you could just order some food and listen to the talk around the bar. Might be cheaper that way."

Just as I was thinking this was one of the nicest people I had ever met, the man beside me cut and tried to run. It happened so fast I hardly had time to turn my head. The instant he got up and bolted for the door after finishing his meal, the barkeep pulled out a shotgun and put a round in his back.

With a smile she turned back to me and in that same calming, soft voice said "Just make sure to pay your bill before you leave." And with that she turned back around and poured me my ale.

Looking at the menu after sliding my money onto the bar. "I'd also like some bread and some of your soup if I can afford it."

"That'll be 200 for the bread and 250 for the soup." Counting the money I gave her, she passed me back 180 berries.

"Why is the ale so expensive?" I asked while pondering the possibilities.

"Because I make it myself and my time isn't cheap. You want that cheap piss they drink down the street, go there." The bartenders tone was icy as she spoke, as if she was tired of people questioning her ale prices.

"I mean no disrespect. I was just curious." She passed me my bowl of soup and a slice of bread with a medium sized, barrel like mug, of ale.

I took my first sip and it was heavenly. Not that the taste was anything to write home about, but it just felt amazing to be drinking alcohol again. The last drink I had was a month before I died. And it seems this body hadn't tasted anything close to this in a long time.

I gulped down several mouthfuls before taking a piece of the bread and dunking it in the beef soup. The potato's were cooked perfectly and the carrots were steamed to perfection. The thought of foraging for nuts while something this delicious was just down the road was enough to make me cry.

After tilting the bowl and scooping out the dregs with my last piece of torn bread, I downed the remainder of my ale. Smiling happily, I thank the bartender for the meal and started to think.

I hadn't just been scarfing down food, I was listening the whole time. And it seems the highest bounty in this town has nothing to do with the world government. It shocked me at first, but then I started to think and it made sense.

The world government issues bounty's based on perceived threat to the public and to the government themselves, but they aren't the only ones who release bounty's. Kingdoms that have been robbed often place bounty's on criminals heads in hopes of inspiring their citizens to act. They were given out based on how much a certain country or individual wanted someone dead.

These types of bounty's were controlled by the underworld rather than the world government. Though distributed fairly well throughout the world, these bounty's can only be claimed by meeting the individual who placed it. Using a proxy for that is a fairly common practise though, so the original contractor will rarely make themselves known. After all it would be like holding a sign saying 'I'm connected to the underworld.'

The highest bounty on this Island is 8,000,000 berries. And it belongs to the great bandit, the heist master known as Keith. He is said to have stolen the Crown Jewels of the Volti Empire, along with making off with its third princess.

There were bounty posters plastered all over the walls, as if it was decoration. But no matter how hard I looked I never found Keith's. It was simple really, the biggest bounty would be placed in the highest spot. Right above the head of the barkeep.

It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at since it was so old and worn out. I could barely make out the picture. He had long hair, tied back in a ponytail, and a scar running from his right temple to his chin. But other than those features I couldn't tell much else.