Chapter 50: The Bounty Hunter’s Bar
"Darm, that guy wasn't your average Joe," one guard remarked. "He carried the air of someone who used to be in a position of real power. I've been doing this job for years and seen all kinds, but I've only come across two others with that kind of presence. And we both know who those two are—people we're supposed to show real respect to."
The others nodded, alluding to some of the highest-ranking figures in their sector.
"You might find yourself needing his help one day," another guard chimed in. "Why didn't I step up and ask? Maybe that chance could've been mine."
The group grew more talkative, speculating about the man who had just passed through their gate.
The notable figures they referred to were none other than Dey, a high-ranking officer in the Nova Corps, and Irani Rael, the Corps' top commander. Both individuals commanded respect from everyone, including these guards.
"Past glories can be lost overnight," Darm said calmly. "But rebuilding that kind of power? That takes more than just earning some credits through bounty jobs. For someone like him, it's not about surviving off bounties—it's about trying to reclaim something much bigger. He used to be the one offering the bounties, not the one taking them. A fall like his can do a number on someone."
Darm shrugged, not thinking much of the momentary conversation he'd had with the mysterious man, named Kassadin.
The other guards shook their heads, disappointed.
"If his fall hadn't been so complete, that one line he said to you could've been a game-changer for your entire life."
"Yeah, but there's no use in 'what ifs.' If he hadn't fallen, we wouldn't be seeing him here, would we?"
The guards laughed at the truth of the statement.
"Still," another added, "just remember his name. Who knows? One day it might matter. I think it was Kassadin, right?"
"Yeah, that's what he said—Kassadin. Bit of an odd name, isn't it?"
"Odd names are always the ones that stand out," the guard replied, laughing.
The group of guards went on chatting about work, their usual conversations about the day-to-day of their jobs. Most of them came from civilian backgrounds, and aside from some basic gatekeeping duties, their positions were far from prestigious. They were slightly better off than the average citizen due to job perks, but they didn't hold any real authority. Their duties mostly revolved around scanning IDs, logging entries, and waving people through. There was little in the way of action or prestige, unlike the Nova Corps officers who wore their powerful armor and piloted advanced ships.
For these gate guards, dreams of glory were far-fetched, unless they managed to pull some strings or get very, very lucky.
Meanwhile, Harvey was strolling through the bustling streets of Xandar, taking in the sights and sounds. The city was an advanced marvel, light-years beyond anything Earth could offer. He saw flying discs carrying people effortlessly, long-range scanning tools, and sleek starships zooming overhead, so quiet they barely made a sound.
The streets were crowded, with a mix of locals and aliens moving about, but Harvey's distinct appearance—his regal-looking armor and strange mask—drew a few curious glances. No one approached him, though. People knew better than to engage with someone who looked out of place like that, especially when he could be a bounty hunter, a refugee, or worse.
As Harvey continued toward the location Darm had described, he noticed he could understand some languages, but not all. It seemed that while many wore universal translators, not everyone did, leaving him with only partial comprehension of the conversations around him.
His goal on Xandar wasn't destruction but to start his ascent—taking on bounty missions to earn enough to lay the foundations for a larger plan. He envisioned creating a Void cult, spreading its influence throughout the galaxy. But to do that, he'd need to build a reputation, and it couldn't be a bad one. So for now, he planned to play it smart, laying low and working for his future goals.
After about twenty minutes of wandering through the city, he arrived in the area Darm had mentioned. The streets were lined with buildings sporting advertisements and signs, none of which Harvey recognized.
Undeterred, he focused his golden eyes and, within seconds, had zeroed in on a lively bar just a kilometer away. With a swift movement, he was there in the blink of an eye, standing before the entrance to the establishment.
As he entered, loud music filled the air, accompanied by flashing lights. The scene was chaotic—scantily clad dancers swayed on platforms, and patrons of all shapes and sizes clinked their glasses and watched the show with enthusiasm. Alien species from all corners of the galaxy were represented, many of them bounty hunters blowing off steam after a job.
The bar's patrons glanced briefly at Harvey as he entered, but they soon returned to their drinks and entertainment. His appearance, while striking, was quickly dismissed in a place where the unusual was ordinary.
Harvey moved through the crowd and approached the bar, where a blonde woman in a bunny costume was serving drinks. She noticed him right away, intrigued by the air of mystery and authority he projected. She lifted a small scanner and held it in front of him.
A quick readout popped up: Kassadin, from C53. The scanner didn't offer much more, leaving her curious but unable to dig deeper.
"Are you here to post a job or take one, handsome?" she asked with a flirtatious smile.
"I'm here to take a job. Where do I go?" Harvey replied, his voice steady and direct.
"You're a first-timer, huh?" she said with a smirk, glancing at him. "Bounty board's to the left. Just take a look and see what catches your eye. And if you survive, come back for a drink. Maybe we can celebrate."
Her tone was seductive, but Harvey wasn't interested. She saw him as a newcomer, but it didn't matter. He was here to take on a bounty, start small, and work his way up.
With a nod, Harvey turned and headed toward the bounty board, ready to see what kind of tasks the universe had to offer.