Two on one. I like those odds!

Especially since I'm the one writing the story...

Bounty Seven

Chapter Six: Bounty Hunter, Part 3

"Now, let's analyze this situation, shall we?" Siegfried thought to himself. He looked to the side, at the woman dressed in green, and wearing a bird's mask. She was gazing straight forward, focusing on the situation with attention as focused as any arrow point.

"On one side, we have a mysterious woman in green, who fights with ranged weaponry, specifically throwing ones. She has recently threatened me with death, but she has just now asked me if I trust her. Whether that means she trusts me, I'm not sure. What I am sure if is that she's not my enemy, at least not at the moment."

He then looked across the street, at the man facing them, who was covered from head to toe in thick wrappings, and who fought using ropes, one of which was still stuck to his arm...or if you wanted to be pedantic, it was his arm that was stuck to the rope, via a strong glue. Either way, it amounted to the same thing.

"And on the other, we have this fine gentleman, a hired killer who was contracted to shuffle me off this mortal coil. And likely would have been successful at it, had I not been so thankfully rescued. Quite embarassing, honestly...and not something that will happen again. Because I know who hired this assassin, and I won't give him the satisfaction of being killed by an obstacle he set up."

He reached up with his free hand, and adjusted his shades.

"And last, but certainly not least, we have me, the bounty hunter with the stylish shades. Only one island into my journey, and I've been threatened with death twice, defeated and apprehended two bounty heads, and made the acquaintance of one beautiful young lady. Not a bad running total so far, even if the lady was one of the ones I was threatened with death by."

With the three combatants summarized, Siegried moved onto the parameters of the coming fight.

"The assassin fights by using his ropes to cut off his prey's movement, and then cutting them down, as he so kindly demonstrated for me. My new lady friend, meanwhile, fights with ranged weaponry, as I saw on the boat. I doubt very much that I've seen all that either of them capable of, either. Fortunately, the same is also true for both of them. And also fortunately, this arena is wide, and doesn't have any major obstacles to further complicate things."

He tapped his chin idly. "Although, you'd think he'd have made sure that it would be quite the opposite, but again, nobody's perfect. Even me."

The bounty hunter glanced around at the square, which was completely empty, barring the three of them. "I will at least give this assassin credit: I don't doubt that the reason this area is empty is because of him. Altough, I suppose potential clients walking into a cross-fire would be bad for business."

Finally, he shrugged, before taking a step toward the assassin. "So, I'm curious. Exactly how much did he pay you to kill me? Ordinarily I wouldn't ask, but I'm curious about just how much money he thinks my death is worth...and how much money I'm going to deprive you of today."

The assassin shook his bandaged head. "Oh, he paid in advance, which surprised me. Not many people are willing to trust assassins like me, especially if they have no idea whether or not the guy they want dead will ever cross our paths. The Grand Line isn't exactly a linear path, you know, which I mentioned to him. I'm no cheater. But he said..."

"That no matter where he runs and no matter where he goes, be it the busiest city, the highest mountain, or the largest jungle, I would follow his path exactly? That I would chase him across the entire world, twice over? That no matter where he tried to hide, be it the deepest floor in Impel Down or the smallest, most well guarded cell in the Marine Headquarters itself? That I would find him no matter how long it took, and make him pay, bit by bit, for every crime he has committed, until he's begging me for mercy, which I don't be quick to give?"

Siegfried's smile grew wider. "Something like that, Mr. Assassin?"

"...yes, something like that, kid." said The Hanged Man, after a pause. Siegfried's voice had not changed in the slightest during this statement, and his voice had still maintained it's polite and affable tone. But beneath it, it had still contained all the warmth of an unyielding glacier, and even though it was not directed toward him, but at the memory of another, the assassin could not stop a shiver from running through his spine.

The Hanged Man had seen anger in the people he'd confronted many times, and he'd seen fear even more, even if they were trying to hide it. But throughout all of this speech, there had been a look behind the dangerous smile and the accusing, glaring eyes that was reserved solely for him alone. It was a look that The Hanged Man had never seen once before, in all of his career. With a sudden start, he realized just what it was.

"He's looking at me like I'm a stepping stone." he mused with some disbelief. "Like I'm too insignificant to even pose a threat to him, and I only exist for him to walk over to get to his real destination." Beneath his wrappings, The Hanged Man smiled. "He's not a foolhardy idiot that thought he could bite off more than he could chew, or a spineless coward that accidentally stepped on the wrong toes. He's wholly unique, nothing like the people I'm used to taking caring of."

His hand, no, his whole body flexed in anticipation of fighting the boy, for real this time; up until now, he had only been toying with him, as he often did. But now that he understood exactly what Siegfried was capable of, he was going to have to change his style a bit.

His gaze turned to the woman. "He must have known that she was going to show up. That was why he wasn't worried. She doesn't seem to be his ally, though. Although, I doubt that means she's my ally either, especially since I trussed her up and left her to wait on a roof for who knows how long. In hindsight, I suppose I should have frisked her too. I'm too much of a gentleman sometimes."

Of course, if they were allies, then this battle would be more complicated. He rarely ever had to deal with the friends of his targets, for obvious reasons, and on the rare occasions that he had had to, none of them had even came close to the amount of skill he could tell this woman had; breaking free of his ropes was no simple trick. She had the potential to make this fight very difficult for him. But, of course, his entire fighting style was focused around stopping his prey from doing just that. All he had to do here was shift his focus towards doing it to multiple people. Simple enough. Now, to play the waiting game...

The shinobi watched all of this, eyes darting back and forth behind her mask between the bounty hunter, and the assassin who was charged with ending his life. She had processed this information dispassionately. She did not know the boy or the man personally, and therefore this situation had no effect on her. She did not even truly know what she was doing here, herself.

"No, I am here because the assassin attacked me, a shinobi. As a shinobi, I must pay this debt back to him. The bounty hunter is irrelevant, and possibly even more dangerous."

"I take offense to that 'possibly', miss." Siegfried said in her mind.

"...you do not like to leave people's thoughts to themselves, do you, bounty hunter?" she thought back coldly. Until now, her mental defenses had been unshakeable, but the bounty hunter was able to enter her mind with disturbing ease. Thus far he had stayed only in the outermost part of it, the contents of which she kept under deep control. But the thought that he could go further - into her memories, her deepest thoughts, everything that made her who she was - frightened her very deeply, and Shinobi did not frighten easily.

If Siegfried could sense this, he didn't say so. "Not when they're defacing my character, I don't. I thought you decided to believe that I was a good person?"

"So, you do not believe yourself to be dangerous?"

Siegfried chuckled, amused. "No, no. I'm a good person, and I'm dangerous. For me, the two of them are one and the same, and I'll thank you not to say otherwise. Take this situation, for instance. Since we are good people, and this gentleman is not, the victors will naturally be us."

"...you are mistaken. The only 'good person' here is you."

"Hm? And just what do you mean by-"

"Enough talking!" she shouted, pushing his presence away. She suspected strongly that she was only able to do so because he let her.

Snapping a hand to her belt, she retrieved a batch of shuriken from a pouch, before casting them out at the assassin. It was a motion that she had practised perhaps a thousand times, and it was done in one quick, fluid movement.

However, The Hanged Man had practised just as often at dodging whatever attacks his prey were able to throw at him, and he moved just as quickly. Diving wide to the right, he tucked in his legs as he did so, the shurikens barely missing him. Upon landing, he rolled, coming up to face a kunai that was aimed toward him.

He made a grunt of amusement. "Not bad." With a flick of his wrist, he cast out a new rope. This one was a normal rope, but with a large hook tied to the end, which looked very, very rusty. Swinging it out ahead of him, he easily knocked the kunai out of the air. He then quickly spun around, whirling the rope around in an arc, and did the same with the shuriken that the woman had thrown at him just before.

The momentum behind the spin carrying him back to his original position, the assassin smiled at the shinobi. "I suppose that must have worked on people who weren't me, huh?"

He then jumped back, dodging a left hook from Siegfried, who had run up while all of this had been happening. Undaunted, Siegfried unleashed a flurry of jabs at the assassin, who began to duck and weave, contorting his body to move in-between the blows.

Finishing the combo, Siegfried moved from a final punch into a roundhouse kick, aimed at The Hanged Man's head. Falling backward to avoid it, the assassin dropped into a handstand, before thrusting out his free legs at the bounty hunter's chest. Quickly kicking off the ground to propel himself backward, Siegfried easily avoided the kick...

...and then uttered a choked gasp as a massive weight slammed into his mid-section, knocking the air from his lungs in one forceful blow. He looked down to see an iron ball sticking there, tied to the end of a rope which was extending from The Hanged Man's leg wrappings. Siegfried coughed despite himself, a small bit of blood coming from his mouth.

With a twist of his leg, the assassin pulled the rope back, allowing Siegfried to retreat back a few steps, breathing in rapidly to bring air back into his lungs.

"Mind if I cut in, kid?" said The Hanged Man, flipping to his feet easily before springing straight at Siegfried, the rope with the hook on it suddenly in his hand.

The Hanged Man expected Siegfried to jump backward, or roll to either side. Instead, to the assassin's deep surprise, he dove forward, straight at the oncoming assassin.

Siegfried felt the hook's point graze his back, tearing through the fabric of his jacket and his shirt, and into his flesh. The wound wasn't deep, and Siegfried wasn't terribly interested in letting it become otherwise. Thrusting an elbow upward, the bounty hunter smiled as he felt it connect with his opponent's body, The Hanged Man letting out a pained grunt of his own.

Siegfried thrusted backward, and was surprised at how light the assassin was. Some of the children back home were heavier than he was, and Siegfried mused that if he could get both his hands on the man, lifting him up would be easy. But then, there were other ways of exploiting his lack of weight, and Siegfried preferred to do things with a bit more...style.

As the assassin flew forward from the shove, Siegfried turned, smiling in satisfaction as he did so, already hearing the slight noise that precipatated The Hanged Man sending a rope flying outward.

Sure enough, when he finished the turn, another rope circled around his right arm, before growing taut. Still in mid-air, The Hanged Man smiled. "Caught you again, boy."

Siegfried smirked. "I think you have it the wrong way around." With his free hand, he grabbed the rope. "You don't mind if I borrow your trick, do you?" Then, he tugged.

The bounty hunter did not have super strength, like many other people in the Grand Line, but he was strong enough to send the assassin flying toward himself. The Hanged Man was unable to stop, the rope connecting him to Siegfried as much as it connected Siegfried to him. True to the bounty hunter's word, the assassin was caught.

As The Hanged Man came near, Siegfried kicked out forcefully. This time, it was the assassin's turn to be winded, as Siegfried's foot hit him straight in the chest. The force of the blow, combined with the rope, held the assassin up, allowing Siegfried to look into his eyes through the wrappings. He smiled. "Well, I wonder if you can take a punch as well as I can take your ropes?"

He shoved the assassin out with his foot, letting go of the rope before drawing his fist far back. "Geist...STURMFAUST!"

The massive uppercut caught The Hanged Man directly on his jaw, smashing his head back and sending him flying halfway across the square, his smaller weight proving to be a great disadvantage. Landing far less gracefully than he had been so far, he quickly jumped to his feet. This was a necessity, for he was then forced to dive to the right, just barely avoiding a flurry of shurikens that came from behind him. They avoided hitting him directly, but still cut into his limbs, his wrappings quickly stained red from the wounds. Fortunately for him, he was able to prevent any serious wounds to his legs - if that happened against these two, he was finished.

Siegfried watched this with a casual air, hand stroking his chin, even as the shurikens stopped just in front of him. "Hm. I expected that to hurt him, but him having a glass jaw surprises me. I wonder if all the other assassins make fun of him? That's not very polite, by the way."

"I apologize. This is not as easy as I make it appear. The wind is a troublesome thing to control."

"I can't say I can relate with you there. I'm a little jealous, in fact. My talents aren't conducive to projectiles at all. Here, I'll demonstrate."

He drew back a hand casually. "Geist Wurst." He said, just as casually, and then shoved it forward. Immediately, the weapons shot outward at a great speed, flying through the air at the assassin. He quickly dodged, and the shurikens hit the wall - and stuck.

"You see? Not even close."

"..."

The Hanged Man grit his teeth, his eyes flicking back and forth between the bounty hunter and the shinobi. "Tch. Dealing with him really isn't an option until I get rid of her. He's mostly limited to hand-to-hand, while her range is nearly limitless with those throwing weapons. That, combined with her wind tricks, means I'll be cut to shreds if I'm not careful."

His gaze settled on the woman. "Yes, she's definitely the greater threat; one that I need to take care of before I can deal with my real target. She looks like the agile type, even moreso than the boy, but people like that have no advantage against me."

Abruptly, The Hanged Man moved, beginning to hop back and forth, first toward Siegfried, and then towards the woman. The shinobi looked tense during this, prepared for any attack the assassin would make next, no matter which one of them it was targetted towards. Siegfried, on the other hand, simply looked casually at his would-be killer, smiling calmly and assuredly.

The Hanged Man wondered just what this attitude of his was; was it truly genuine, or was it merely a manufactured mask, made to disguise what he had glimpsed earlier? He shook these thoughts away - dwelling on a person whose life he was about to end wasn't a terribly healthy idea, something he had learned very early on in his career. So why was he doing so now? He chalked it up to the uniqueness of his target...and then struck.

Landing from one of the hops, The Hanged Man then immediately kicked off from the ground, diving through the air straight at the bounty hunter. Siegfried's hands, which had been lowered casually to his waist, quickly snapped up in response, his body instantly moving back into a ready stance. The smile, however, did not leave his face. The Hanged Man wondered if death could accomplish that. He'd soon see.

In midair, he twisted his left arm. Out from within the wrappings there came yet another rope. On the end of this one was tied a weight, perhaps the same one that he had hit Siegfried with earlier. At the same time, his legs moved downward, his feet touching down on the surface of the weight. Then, his legs giving a powerful pump, he jumped off of the weapon, the weight thudding to the ground while The Hanged Man leaped again, this time towards the shinobi!

The woman was surprised, even if you could only judge that by her body language, but even so her hands flew to her belt. Quickly retrieving a kunai and a shuriken, she smoothly moved into an overhand throw, sending the weapons flying straight and true at the assassin's head.

The Hanged Man, in turn, let his own weapon loose from his right arm; another rope, and in a refreshing change, this one seemed to not have anything tied to the end of it. This was because, upon closer inspection, the rope itself was tied, in a complex looking knot along nearly it's entire length.

Behind his wrappings, The Hanged Man allowed himself a satisfied smile. Then, he twisted his arm, in a motion that's function only he knew. As he did, the rope knot untied itself, having been tied in a way that allowed this. Dozens of loops and twists undid themselves within a moment, and the single rope unfurled; into a net, just the right size to hold one person.

The weapons hit the net, but rather than cutting it to shreds, they collided and bounced off, the sharp blades stripping away the twine to reveal the iron wire beneath. The shinobi tried to jump away, but it was too late. The net hit her, knocking her to the cobblestones and tangling her in it's reaches. The other end of the rope followed, and tied to it was another weight, which thudded to the ground inside the net - directly on top of the trapped shinobi's right leg.

A short cry of pain escaped from the shinobi's lips, before her training kicked in, and she bit it back. Her eyes flicked downward to assess the damage. The weight had not hit her leg at an angle, and it had hit her above her kneecap, so she judged that she could still stand, so long as she treated it gingerly. It was certainly sprained, however, and she had the protective clothing she wore underneath her jumpsuit to thank for that.

The net, on the other hand, would be far more troublesome to deal with. It was made of iron, so her weapons could not cut through it so easily, and it combined with the weight held her down easily. Not only that, but there was another problem. Her eyes looked back up at The Hanged Man, who was watching her with a certain degree of amusement.

"Got your leg, did I? That's awfully lucky. Usually the weight misses them entirely." He shrugged. "Not that it really matters, for either one of us."

With a flick of both of his wrists, three ropes appeared from each of his sleeves, which he grabbed onto. At the end of each was a hook similar to the one from earlier. Smiling satisfactorally behind his robes, The Hanged Man sprang into the air, swinging the hook-tied ropes downward at the woman's helpless form. "Twine O' Six Tails."

The hooks would slice into her body, and tear apart her torso. She would quickly bleed to death, assuming that the hooks did not pierce any of her vital organs. As the weapons swung down toward her, time seemed to slow, at least to her mind, which was devising strategy. If she could still move after the hooks hit her - and they would certainly hit her - then she would counterattack. If not, then she would not have to worry about such things. Or anything else. Ever.

Time also seemed to slow it's pace for The Hanged Man as well. This often happened when he was about to execute one of his targets. He supposed it had something to do with the anticipation just before the act, that moment of bated breath before the rope dropped, so to speak. Of course, this girl was not one of his targets, which the robed man wondered about for a moment. Oh well, who was he to question these things? When this long moment had passed, it wouldn't matter anymore. A shame, really, but he had warned her.

Suddenly, his vision of the woman was overtaken by something which suddenly darted in from the side. His hooks hit it instead, tearing and cutting, just as he had intended for the woman.

Siegfried smiled up at the man, his coat and shirt torn, and blood issuing from the wounds that the hooks had gouged into his body. Not saying a word, he reached up with his hands and gripped the ropes strongly, preventing them from cutting into him any deeper. Then, he pulled. Once again, The Hanged Man's weight proved his achilles heel, and he flew towards the bounty hunter, who, lacking a free hand, resorted to the next best thing; his skull.

The headbutt caught The Hanged Man directly on his own forehead, and he flew backwards, Siegfried letting out a wince as the hooks were forcibly pulled from his flesh.

The assassin landed on his back, and quickly flipped to his feet. He did not attack again, instead staring in amazement at the bounty hunter. The shinobi did the same as Siegfried turned around, lifting the net off of the woman and extending a hand to her. She took it, bemusedly, and he gently helped her to her feet. She winced as her wounded leg touched the ground, wobbling a little. Siegfried pulled her close, steadying her with one hand.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, his voice filled with concern, which sounded almost unnatural, coming from him. With a start, she realized just how close she was to him, coinciding with a small, unfamiliar flush from her cheeks.

She stepped back, detaching her hand from his and shifting her balance to her good leg. "I am fine. You should pay more attention to yourself. You are bleeding, if you have not noticed."

Siegfried looked down at this and shrugged. "Oh, this? No problem. My clothes are certainly a lost cause, however, but I have spares. And as long as you're safe, I don't much care what happens to me."

The woman was somewhat thankful for her mask, so that the bounty hunter could not see the look of surprise on her face.

Siegfried turned back to the bounty hunter. "Well then, shall we finish this?"

She stared at him. "You have a plan to win, then?"

Siegfried looked back at her, and smirked. "Learning quickly, aren't you? Of course; I always have a plan, for any and every situation. I make a point of it." He pointed at The Hanged Man. "And I have plans that go far beyond a simple assassin, so I'm afraid that you'll have to get out of my way, assassin."

The wrapped killer let out a chuckle of disbelief. "Simple, hm? Well, modesty sure isn't something you're skilled at, kid."

Siegfried shrugged. "From my perspective, you're very simple, and modesty isn't something I have any use for. I can see why normal people would, however, since they have nothing to be arrogant about. It must be quite boring."

Letting out a slightly irritated grunt, The Hanged Man made another standing leap towards the bounty hunter, both sets of hooks striking out like snakes. Quite quickly for someone who had just been wounded, Siegfried jumped to the side, away from the hooks and the incapacitated shinobi. The Hanged Man pursued, striking out with his hooks

Nimbly sidestepping the first set of the hooks, Siegfried contacted the shinobi mentally. "About my plan..." The second trio of hooks came around from the left, and he ducked low, sliding in the same direction as they just barely flew over his head.

"I had hoped you would include me in it." she deadpanned, watching his movements with an appraising eye. Whoever had trained the bounty hunter, they had done a very good job of it.

Siegfried chuckled. "Oh, you're essential. You and that wind of yours." As he continued to dodge, he explained his plan to the shinobi. Once he was finished, she nodded mentally.

"Yes. It may work."

"Again, I resent the use of may."

"I know."

"Hm."

Again, The Hanged Man struck out with his hooks, and again Siegfried moved to evade. However, suddenly the bounty hunter grimaced, the movement of his legs changing from a graceful dodge to a clumsy stumble. Fortunately, this still managed to take him out of the weapon's path, but it left him open, and like a predator in the jungle, The Hanged Man was not about to let a moment of vulnerability go away unpunished.

Drawing his hooks closer to himself, The Hanged Man threw them out, point first, at Siegfried's ribcage. The law of averages said that at least one of the rusty points would pierce or slip through, and into the bounty hunter's heart.

Suddenly, Siegfried smiled. The Hanged Man saw this smile, and for some reason, felt like things were about to go very, very bad for him. Just before they did.

Siegfried jumped, straight into the air, rivalling one of The Hanged Man's own leaps. His hand reached out, and he snatched something out of the air, which had been right above him at that very moment. It was an iron disc, the circumference of which was razor sharp all the way around. It was very wide, but also very thin, and seemingly light-weight, judging by how easily Siegfried was able to grab and hold it. Where this weapon had come from didn't take much of a guess; the assassin's eyes flicked momentarily to the green shinobi.

With a strong swing of his arm, Siegfried sent the disc sailing toward the assassin. Immediately, The Hanged Man reacted by jumping backward, causing the disc to miss him entirely, clattering uselessly to the ground.

The Hanged Man chuckled. "You'll have to do better than that, boy."

"Oh, I'm afraid that's quite impossible." Siegfried replied back cheerily. He raised a finger, and pointed at the ground in front of the man. Despite himself, the assassin could stop his gaze from being drawn to where the bounty hunter indicated.

Lying there on the ground was the disc, having failed to fulfill it's function. Sitting on it's surface was a small slip of paper, on which were written strange symbols, which The Hanged Man couldn't identify. They weren't in english, anyway, and that was the only language he knew, and needed to know. What did interest him about the symbols was that they had just begun to glow.

He might not have been able to tell what the symbols meant, but he had an idea of what the slip of paper was for. He jumped backward...

Just before the slip of paper exploded, releasing a column of powerful, driving wind, which shot itself upwards into the sky. The Hanged Man might have been nimble, but he was not quick enough, as the outer edge of the windstorm caught him in mid-jump, sending him tumbling into the air, several feet above the square. Siegfried held an arm up to stave off the force of the wind, but there was no need; just as quickly as it had been summoned, the wind disappeared. It had more than fulfilled it's purpose, however, as the assassin had still not stopped rising, the momentum carrying him the rest of the way.

Smiling in satisfaction, Siegfried turned to look at the shinobi, before stepping back and giving the 'go ahead' gesture. The shinobi nodded in silent reply, and walked lightly over to where The Hanged Man had stood just moments ago, directly below the now air-borne assassin. He seemed to have reached the apex of his height, and was just now beginning to fall back to earth.

The shinobi watched this carefully from behind her mask, waiting until precisely the right moment before she acted. When she judged him to be the right height, her hands began to move, forming symbols and letters that Siegfried had no clue of the meaning behind. He could tell that it was some form of exercise to build power, judging from the concentration he could sense from her mind. It was likely one shared by the other members of whatever group she was apart of, he mused, while trying not to do anything that might distract her.

Finally, she finished the hand signs, and then thrust her hands upward, fingertips outward and pressed together. "Kaze no Ninjitsu; Kaze-Suidou Kansei!"

Appearing from out of her outstretched hands came twin currents of wind, heading straight up. Shortly after leaving her hands, they twisted and turned, coming together to form a spinning vortex of wind, which shot up into the sky, and right toward The Hanged Man. Unfortunately for the assassin, dodging in mid-air was a feat that was, sadly, beyond him, and he was caught, easily held in place by the rotating wind. The assassin had time to muse that this was the third time his supposed greatest strength had been turned into his greatest weakness. How ironic.

But even if he was trapped like this, he was still in the air, and there seemed to be no way for them to attack him. It didn't seem that the woman's hands were free as long as she wished to use this technique, and he severely doubted that these winds could lift the boy as well. So, he was safe.

"You don't really think you're safe with me around, do you, mister assassin?"

If The Hanged Man had been on the ground, he would have jumped several feet in any direction.

"Look down, if you please." said Siegfried, in his head. Something in his voice made the assassin do just that. Perhaps it was the fact that he was right; The Hanged Man didn't feel safe, and hadn't ever since he had shown himself to the bounty hunter. It was just something about him. Something that, again, reminded him of someone else. But the hitman turned aside from affairs of the mental realm, and turned his gaze downward.

There was the woman, still issuing the wind from her finger tips. There was the boy, looking up at him and smiling slyly. From the angle he was standing, the light reflected on his glasses, making

And there were the woman's weapons, flying upwards seemingly

"Oh. So that's how."

"Yes, that's how."

The weapons were quickly grabbed by the wind tunnel, and began to spin along it's length - right up to The Hanged Man. Shurikens, kunai, and other throwing weapons of various shapes and sizes, all of them sharp and all of them deadly. They flew around him, slashing through his wrappings and into his body. Dozens of cuts and gashes, all of them bleeding, formed on him, as he acquired more wounds in one fell swoop than he'd had since he was green. And even then, none of the wounds he had gained through lack of experience or rookie mistakes came close to this.

For a moment, he was sure the shinobi would keep him up here like this until he was dead. He had certainly tried to do the same to her. But then he felt the wind die down, the weapons losing their momentum and slowing. Then, it stopped completely, and he fell to the ground, colliding with a hard thud, that contrasted with the numerous metallic clangs as the weapons did the same.

Slowly, Siegfried walked up to him, while the shinobi (who had of course stepped aside when the assassin fell) began gathering up her arsenal.

The bounty hunter knelt before him, his smile now looking supremely satisfied. If The Hanged Man could have moved, he likely would have tried to punch him.

"So, mister assassin, are you going to tell me who hired you now?"

"...fine." The Hanged Man grunted. "I doubt he'd care anyway, since it's obvious now that he knew I wouldn't be able to kill you. What do you want to know?"

Reaching into his pocket, Siegfried retrieved a photograph, flicking it up in front of the hitman's eyes. "This is him, isn't it?"

The Hanged Man stared at the photo, and nodded slowly. "Yes, that's him. That look on his face is the same as when he came to see me. I don't think I'll ever forget his face, as long as I live."

"The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you." Siegfried replied briskly. "Now, please tell me about your meeting with this man, if you please."

If you had told The Hanged Man to retell a meeting that he had had with any of his clients over the years, it would have been a vague recollection, mostly forgotten by the time his next client had come along. Usually he never even got the name of the person who hired him, even if he received the name of who he was going to kill. The man in the photograph hadn't told him his name either, but even so, The Hanged Man could recite the meeting he had had with him to a T. He did so.

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In The Hanged Man's small business office, there suddenly came a timid knock on the door. The assassin easily recognized it as his door man; he had never quite gotten used to working for an assassin, but you could hardly blame him for that. He did his job, anyway, and that was all the hitman cared about.

Before he could speak up and tell the doorman to come in - the timid man always waited for permission, just in case - there came another knock. No, rather a series of rapid knocks, all of them sounding...scared? Desperate? This was unusual. The Hanged Man had been contracted by many...unsavory individuals, and his door man had mostly always kept his cool. Who could be on the other side of that door with him that would make him act like this?

"Well, come in." he said. No point in making the poor guy sweat.

The door opened, and the door man scurried through, quickly shutting the door as soon as he was inside. The Hanged Man raised an eyebrow at this.

"There is a gentlemen who wishes to have a word with you, sir." the door man said timidly to the assassin. It said a lot when he seemed more reassured inside the room with the assassin than out. Not even a single stammer. Now he was really curious.

He didn't let it show, though. "Well, send him in, then." he muttered, shrugging.


The door man nodded, moving back to the door and re-opening it. "H-he w-will see you now, s-sir." he stammered. The Hanged Man felt insulted when he heard this. Was he losing his touch?

The door opened, and the 'gentlemen' who wished to see him entered. As soon as there was room, the door man sidled past and exitted the room, shutting the door.

The would-be client was...well, from here The Hanged Man couldn't tell what he looked like. His office was intentionally badly-lit, but that was mostly for his clients, rather than him, as his eyes were easily trained enough to spot them, even in the shadows. This had been used to his advantage many times in his career.

But the darkness around this man seemed to come from far more than just the lack of a light bulb. The shadows seemed well at home around him; they cloaked his body, his limbs, even his face. All that The Hanged Man could see about him was that he wore an immaculate white suit and pants, as well as a tie of the same color. And that was all.

"My, my..." said the man. "Your helpers certainly are skittish, sir. Why, all I had to do was mention your name, and they began to tremble, and shake."

He bowed. "I must commend you, sir. Kudos to you."

The Hanged Man coughed slightly. He was quite positive it wasn't him who his employees were afraid of at the moment. But he was a customer, and no matter the career, one cannot afford to

"So, you wished to hire my services, did you?" The assassin began.

The man in the shadows didn't answer for a long while, his head appearing to shift as he looked around the small room.

The Hanged Man cleared his throat. The shadowed man looked up. "Oh, forgive me. It's just that this is the first time I have ever been in the office of an assassin. It's rather quaint, I must say."

"...well, take a seat, then." said The Hanged Man, who was unable to keep a bit of annoyance from creeping into his voice. If this man was going to try and attack or intimidate him, he wished he'd hurry up and get it over with. He sometimes received visits from members of criminal organizations, trying to 'persuade' him to not take any work regarding them. or to try and pay him back after he had. Naturally, these attempts all ended in failure, and if this man intended something similar, the least he could do was not waste too much of his time.

"Oh thank you." said the man in the shadows, crossing the length of the room in a few footsteps. As he did, his torso and limbs came into view. There was nothing particularly unique about either. The man's hands were shoved into his pockets casually, which again, The Hanged Man felt vaguely insulted by. A meeting with him was not supposed to be casual.

But he could still not see the man's face, the shadows denying him any knowledge about the man's features. He took the offered seat, crossing his legs and steepling his fingers as he did so.

"So," The Hanged Man began briskly, slipping easily into his business speech, "if you've come to see me, then that must mean you have a problem. One that you want me to take care of."

He leaned forward. "So, what might be the name of this problem? Their appearance and place of residence aren't necessary, but recommended information, assuming you want this done quickly." He paused, awaiting a response.

With a slight flourish, the man in the shadows retrieved a photograph from out of his pocket, sliding it across the desk at the assassin. Turning it around to face him, The Hanged Man looked at it. It was a picture of a slightly younger Siegfried.

"This young gentlemen's name is Siegfried. He is an acquaintance of mine, you might say." the man explained.

The Hanged Man raised an eyebrow. Usually, his clients were unable to talk normally when speaking of the person they wanted killed. Understandable; whatever it was that person had done to them to make them come to him, it was more than enough to instill his clients' words with hatred and bitterness whenever they spoke of that person.

But when the man in the shadows had mentioned this Siegfried, he had sounded downright fond

Nonetheless, however, he was a customer. "For 'normal' people, I charge ten thousand Beri, up front. If they are of high status, or have any special abilities, such as a Devil's Fruit power, then the price will raise, depending on how great either case is. I should note that I don't appreciate people lying to me about this to get a discount. At all."

The shadowed man shrugged. "I cannot say that Siegfried is of any high status, at least not at the moment. As for his abilities...well, to put it succinctly, Siegfried is without a doubt, the greatest challenge put forth by anyone who has ever walked into this office, and anyone who ever will."

He chuckled abruptly. "Or at least that is what he would say. He is very arrogant, you will find. It is really rather amusing."

The Hanged Man shrugged. "Alright then, we'll make it an even twenty thousand Beri. Where does he live?"

The man in the shadows shrugged back. "Well, I do not know that. But I am sure he is somewhere very close by."

"What?" asked The Hanged Man, knowing he wouldn't like the answer. Sometimes people had special requests concerning the jobs they wanted him to do. Like taking something from their corpse or home that the client wanted, or killing them in a certain way or place in order to frame someone else. Some people even wanted a photograph of the deceased. As different as these requests sometimes were, they were always troublesome. If he wasn't getting paid for it, he'd never do them. But then, that was true for most people with jobs, wasn't it?

"Well," began the shadowed man, "he and I are currently engaged in a gentleman's game of cat and mouse. I am the mouse, running away, and he is the cat, chasing after and trying to catch me."

He leaned back slightly in his chair. "Ah, but it would be very boring if that was all that happened, wouldn't it? So, I plan to put a few small obstacles in Siegfried's path. One of which will be you, if you are so willing."

"...so, you don't want me to kill him?" asked The Hanged Man after a moment's hesitation. Ordinarily he'd never have asked such a stupid question, but he honestly couldn't tell with this man.

"Well," replied the man in the shadows pleasantly, "I want you to do your best. If that best is enough to take Siegfried's life, then I suppose that will be that. It would be very silly to hire someone of your profession to not kill someone, would it not?"

"It would be." The Hanged Man agreed. "But even if he's following you, that doesn't necessarily mean he'll come to this island. You're aware of that, right?"

"I can assure you, that will not be a problem." replied the client. "Siegfried does not take detours, you see. He will arrive on this island, do not worry."

"I wasn't." the assassin said bluntly. "As long as you pay me, I don't much care whether I ever meet this Siegfried or not. Speaking of which..." He extended a hand expectantly.

The man in the shadows shrugged sadly. "Alas, I do not have that amount of money."

The hitman's hand moved to point over the other man's shoulder. "Well, there's the door, then."

"Ah, but I do have another way of paying for your services." the mysterious man said pleasantly.

"...which is?" The Hanged Man didn't put much stock in any payment that wasn't money. But if this man had something that could be turned into money, that would be good enough. He doubted it, though.

The shadowed man gestured at Siegfried's photograph. "He is my payment. A gift to you, you might say."

There was a long pause, and then The Hanged Man spoke up icily. "I...think you have me mistaken for someone else. I'm not interested in that kind of payment, and I don't think I'll ever be. It's time for you to leave. Right now."

"Oh, dear." said the man in the shadows. "I believe you may have misunderstood me, sir. What I meant was-"

His words were abruptly cut off as a knife hit him in the forehead - or at least where The Hanged Man judged his forehead was. The man's head lolled back, colliding with the back of the chair.

"...tch, lost my temper there." The Hanged Man sighed. "Can't really abide guys who are into that kind of thing, though. Guess I'll kill one of the guys in here to come clean this up..."

"Oh, do not worry. I do not intend to bleed all over your office, sir."

The assassin snapped his gaze back up to the supposedly dead man, who was slowly sitting up. Reaching up with one hand, the man grasped the handle of the knife and tugged, the blade sliding easily from his flesh. He then released his grip, dropping the knife smoothly onto the table.

"Please do not do that again, sir." he said, sounding completely fine. "If you do, I may decide to take my business elsewhere."

The Hanged Man was too preoccupied to respond, his eyes trying to pierce the shadows, trying to see the grievious wound that should have been there, trying to catch a glimpse of the crimson, viscous liquid that should have pouring down the man's face. No, they weren't there. Which, in this sea, meant only one possible explanation.

The hitman thought quickly. "I'd say Paramecia, but that knife hit him dead on. Can't say I expected to find a Logia here, but I guess it's not impossible." Slowly, one of his hands edged to a certain spot on his body, where he kept a knife forged of Sea Stone. It had been expensive, but-

"That will not work on me, sir." the man in the shadows replied instantly.

Caught off guard, The Hanged Man froze completely.

"Please, put your hand back where it was, so that we may continue our conversation in a civil manner."

The Hanged Man did so.

The man in the shadows seemed to smile. "Thank you."

He penced his fingers once more. "Now, as I was saying before I was interrupted, I did not mean that. I am deeply sorry if I made you think I am one of those people. I find things like that as disgusting as you do, sir, perhaps more."

He motioned again to the photograph. "What I meant was that Siegfried is, without a doubt, the greatest test of your abilities that you will ever meet. Facing him will allow you to see what you are truly capable of."

"...I'm confident enough in my abilities without taking someone you offer up to me on a platter, thanks." replied The Hanged Man stiffly.

The shadowed man shrugged again. "Well, at the very least, he might be able to solve that problem of yours."

"What problem?" questioned The Hanged Man, voice turning slightly defensive. "I don't have a-"

"With wanting to die, I mean." said the mysterious man pleasantly.

The assassin stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking-"

"Please do not try to lie to me, sir." interrupted the man in the shadows. His voice had abruptly decreased in warmth by several degrees.

He leaned forward in his chair, gradually. As he did so, the shadows dispersed, finally allowing The Hanged Man to see the man's face.

The assassin's entire body tensed up at once, hands digging into the arms of his chair, feet rising up off the floor. Every part of his being suddenly wanted to be away from here, away from this man. Several islands away, preferably.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, the man's eyes shifted, and met his own. Despite his body's shuddering increasing, The Hanged Man found his gaze rendered completely immobile, unable to tear himself away from those terrible, piercing eyes. They peered into him, bypassing his pupils and corneas entirely, and heading into a much deeper place.

"Yes...there is not a thing that you can hide from me, sir, so please do not waste both your time and mine in trying to."

He smiled. On any other person, a smile like that would have been pleasant and charming, The Hanged Man mused.

"A very interesting thing to remark upon, sir, considering you are a man. Well, you are half-right. Many woman are attracted to me because of my looks. However, they never seem to stay with me for very long. Ah, love can be quite confounding."

The Hanged Man's body jumped. He had not heard that in his ears alone.

"Now..." said the mysterious man, the assassin continuing to hear the words he spoke in both his ears and his mind. "Let's begin, shall we?" His pleasant tone still remained. He was clearly enjoying how uncomfortable this was making the hitman.

And it abruptly got worse. The Hanged Man's head snapped back slightly, as he felt an intense, lancing pressure in his skull. The Hanged Man would later liken it to a knife, sharpened to perfection, being driven hard through his forehead, and then being twisted harshly around, uncaring of whatever got torn or cut in the process. Now, though, all he felt was pain. Being someone who was never seen, he wasn't exactly used to the sensation, and particular instance did little to ease him into it. Whatever the man was doing, he had no intention of being gentle about it.

The mysterious man tilted his head sympathetically. "I apologize if I am somewhat rough. But my sense of empathy and sense of curiosity do not get along very well. Or, rather, perhaps it's more accurate to say my sense of empathy does not exist? But that makes me seem a bit harsh, and I prefer to think of myself as something of a gentlemen."


The man's smile had grown noticeably, and his eyes had taken on the look of someone who was browsing a store's selection. He was looking for something, somewhere beyond this drab little office.

Finally, his face took on a look of pleased satisfaction, which did little to reassure The Hanged Man. "Ah, there it is. A deep, closely guarded memory, which you have done your very best to lock away. One that you never wish to share with another, and yet, one that you have indulged yourself in many times. Well," he chuckled, "perhaps that is not the right choice of words."

Here, he frowned. "Ah, but I can tell just by looking that your recollection of it has faded. That this can happen to our most dear memories is very sad indeed."

His frown turned right-side up instantly. "But it is very fortunate that I am here, sir. I can make your memory of that event become crystal clear, once more."

The Hanged Man didn't quite know what was going on, or what this man was doing, but the very mention of that event was enough to make him decide he wanted nothing to do wtih it. He grit his teeth, trying to focus himself. "I won't...I won't-"

"Yes you will, sir. As I told you earlier, there is nothing that you can hide from me."

The pressure increased threefold, and the focus The Hanged Man had gathered was broken instantly. Shortly afterward, there was a sound like breaking glass, and then...came the memory. The worst night of his life, playing right in front of his eyes, like his own personal film reel.

Evidently he was not the sole audience member of this, as the man in the shadows was present to give his own narration. How kind of him.

"It was a standard job. You were hired by the local...group, to pay a visit to a man who had neglected to pay his loans, as many often did. You were eager for an easy job, as many of your recent targets had made things difficult for you." the man began, jumping into his role as storyteller with great relish.

"Stop." The Hanged Man grunted.

"No." the mysterious man replied simply. "You arrived at his house at the stroke of midnight, or very close to it. You stole in easily through a second floor window, into the master bedroom, where the man slept with his wife. He had set no booby traps on his house, and had not hired any bodyguards. It seemed he had not the faintest idea that he had been marked for death. Oh well. That made it all the more easier for you, and that was all you cared about."

"I said...stop it." said the assassin once more.

"Oh, but it is just getting to the good part, sir." replied the other man pleasantly, before continuing. "You landed on the floor noiselessly, and moved like a shadow towards the bed. After a moment of discerning which side the man slept on, you crept silently up. He slept soundly, not a peep coming from his mouth. With a flick of your wrist, you had a knife in your hand. One swift movement, and the point of it would be sticking out of his chest. He would die instantly, and his body would not be discovered until the morning. By then, you would be long gone; you would never be caught, never even be accused."

He smiled jokingly. "Ah, but the best laid plans do not always succeed, do they?"

"STOP IT!" again pleaded the hitman, his tone now desperate.

This time, the only answer he received was a cruel, pleased smile. "Suddenly, the door opened, and in walked the man's son, seeking comfort from his daddy. Perhaps he had had a bad dream, perhaps he had wet the bed. Either way, he was here, and very suddenly. Sudden enough, in fact, to surprise a rookie assassin, and cause him to turn around very quickly. As you did at that moment, thinking the boy to be an assailant."

Here, the man's face took on a look of bliss that was utterly terrifying to behold. It clashed perfectly with The Hanged Man's own expression of disgust and shame as he watched what his past self was about to do, as he had done many times before in his dreams. Well, his nightmares, to be accurate.

"You whirled around. The knife flew from your hand, in an expert throw. It sailed through the air, straight as an arrow, and just...slipped...right into the boy's head."

Hearing someone besides himself declare this fact, this secret that he had kept for so long, made The Hanged Man feel like crawling into a hole somewhere and never coming back out.

"The boy hit the floor, the blow killing him instantly. If it had hit him in any other spot, perhaps he could have been saved. But, sadly, an assassin does not aim to wound. And before you could even process what you had done, there was movement from behind you. Unfortunately, it seemed that while the man was a heavy sleeper, his wife was exactly the opposite, and the boy hitting the floor was enough to wake her from her slumber."

The Hanged Man knew what was coming next. It was always what woke him from the dream.

All pretenses otherwise had been dropped; the man was now unable to disguise the sheer pleasure he felt from speaking of such a horrible memory. "Even in the drowsiness of being woken so suddenly, the wife was able to recognize her child, lying bleeding on the floor. She screamed, long and loud, enough to wake the neighbours, and even the dead. It woke you as well, sitting there crouched on the floor, staring in horror at what you had done."

The story was far from over. The man continued. "Galvanized from your shock by the woman's scream, you leapt quickly back to the window. The man, awoken as well by his wife, shouted death threats at your fleeing form. He had no idea you had come here to kill him, it seemed. You barely heard him, anyway - your ears were filled with the sound of her screaming. It seemed as if it would never end. Ah, but they could not stop you. You leapt out into the night air and took the rooftop path back to your own residence, all while thinking about what you had done. These were not very pleasant thoughts. Your dreams that night were...troubled."

"Nothing compared to...what's going on here right now." growled The Hanged Man.

The mysterious man frowned slightly. "Oh, that is very rude, sir. I am only doing you a favor. Does it not feel good to get this off your chest?"

"No."

"Oh well," the man said, giving a flippant shrug, "if nothing else, it will be much easier for you to feel self loathing now that this memory has been restored."

He suddenly smiled ruefully. "But ah, it is not quite over yet, is it? Fortunately, your employers were very understanding. You were only a rookie, after all, and rookies are bound to make a mistake now and again."

By now The Hanged Man's body had ceased it's struggling, and was now simply waiting for the man to stop. If he ever did.

"A few days afterward, while looking at the newspaper, you happened across the man's name. In the obituaries. It seemed the group had found another assassin, and one who had not made a mistake while on the job. Ordinarily, you would not have batted an eye...but then, you had not killed the child of any of your other targets, had you? Whatever the cause, seeing this obituary did little to ease your turmoil."

The Hanged Man did not reply. He could not deny the truth of any of what the man had said so far. That was part of what made this nearly unbearable; it was as if he were on trial and his defense attorney had forgotten to show up.

But the man had reached the end of the tale. Perhaps the worst part of it, as far as The Hanged Man was concerned. "A joint funeral was held, both for the man and his son. You heard of it, but did not attend. And about a week after that, you looked at the obituaries again. You expected that you might see something there."

His smile grew absolutely ice cold. "There was the man's wife, right in the middle of the page. She had committed suicide."

Whatever had been gripping the assassin's skull, it abruptly released it's hold, The Hanged Man slumping forward onto his desk. The other man tilted his head, fake sympathy present in his features. "Are you all right, sir? You are still in the realm of the sane?"

Not willing to show any more weakness in front of this man than he already had, the hitman dragged himself up and faced him, although he very pointedly avoided looking him in the eye.

"Alright...I'll do it. If he comes to this island, I'll try and kill him to the best of my ability, just like you said." He pointed at the door. "Now get lost. Don't ever come back into this office again."

It was a very half-hearted threat, but the man stood up anyway, giving the assassin a polite bow. "Thank you for your generosity, sir. I do hope that Siegfried's skills are to your satisfaction."

He turned and walked to the door, but turned back as his hand grasped the doorknob. "Oh, yes, I almost forgot. I have a...recommendation for you, for when you fight Siegfried, sir."

"And that would be?" The Hanged Man answered back tersely. All he wanted right now was for this creep to get out of his office, and out of his life. Then he'd take a cold shower. A long one.

The mysterious man smiled. "Well, Siegfried is a patient young man. It can be very hard to 'rile him up', as you might say."

He held up a finger. "But ah, there is one thing you can do that will most assuredly anger him." His smile grew. "Kill a woman in his presence."

"...excuse me?" said The Hanged Man.

The other man's smile faded slightly. "Did I stammer, sir? I apologize if that was the case. What I said was, a sure way to enrage Siegfried is to kill a woman, and have him learn of it. Or at least, that is the only way I have found. If there are others, then they are unknown to me."

He eyed The Hanged Man. "Or, perhaps you have a problem with this, sir?" His smile grew full again. "Oh, yes. After that...incident, you began refusing jobs involving women or children. It was also around that time that you began calling yourself The Hanged Man."


He shrugged. "But I think you have had enough of me, ha ha, picking your brain. Now, sir, if you have never done so before, I must tell you that killing a woman is quite easy. Significantly easier, in fact, than killing a man, if I may say so without being branded a sexist."

His smile widened, and his eyes grew distant, as though recalling a pleasant memory. "Why, just before I came into your office, I dragged a woman into the adjacent alley and stabbed her to death," he said dreamily, "exactly twenty-one times. No-one noticed, and I did not even get a speck of blood on my clothes. You see, it is very easy!"

He gestured to The Hanged Man, who flinched. "But I do not pretend to be as half as skilled as you are at killing people, sir. I am sure you could kill someone with twice the ease I can, be they a man, woman, or child of either gender. Or..."

Here the man paused. "...or at least I am sure you would, if you truly wish to receive retribution for what you did that night. Even if you had to commit another crime like that to incur it, it would be worth it to acquire the judgement you so deserve at long last. Wouldn't it, sir?"

He suddenly smacked his forehead, a look of embarassment on his face that was as fake as fool's gold. "But ah," he said, sounding apologetic, "I am being quite rude, lecturing the man I have just hired. I apologize."

Opening the door, he turned back. "I wish you the best of luck, sir."

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

"Then he walked out and shut the door behind him. That was the first, and last time I met with him. I'm grateful for that."

Siegfried nodded. "I see. Could you tell me when this took place? If you can remember."

"Two months and three days ago." The Hanged Man replied instantly.

Siegfried nodded again. "Ah. One more thing." Here, his tone grew cold again. "How many?"

The Hanged Man blinked. "...you'll have to clarify."

"Ah, sorry. I do that sometimes," Siegfried apologized briskly, before continuing, "what I mean is, around the time of your meeting with him, how many young women went missing, and were found days later, cut to pieces in an alley somewhere?"

"...thirteen." The Hanged Man replied. "At least, that's how many were found and reported."

"If that was all that was reported, then that's all there was, I assure you." Siegfried said, and then abruptly turned and began walking away, the shinobi following behind him.

"H-hey..." The Hanged Man called after him confusedly.

"Oh, yes, you're free to go." Siegfried called back casually. "I recommend you patch yourself up sometime soon. Unless you wouldn't mind bleeding to death, that is."

The bounty hunter suddenly stopped, and turned back to the assassin. "Oh, and one more thing. Your life is worth more than you think it does. I'm not sure what the right answer is to your turmoil, but I know dying isn't the right answer."

"That guy..." The Hanged Man began, "when you catch up to him, you intend to kill him, don't you?"

Siegfried nodded without hesitation. "Yes, I do."

"Do it." the assassin grunted. "Someone like that...shouldn't be alive."

Siegfried smiled, and The Hanged Man wondered how he could have compared it to another's, even momentarily. The person this smile belonged to was far, far more dangerous. The assassin did not envy the killer when the bounty hunter caught up with him.

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you, mister assassin? I had been meaning to get a second opinion on the matter for some time now, too. Thank you." Siegfried nodded his head politely, and then turned and resumed his path out of the square, this time for good.

"You're welcome." said The Hanged Man to his receding back. "...and thank you."

If Siegfried heard him, he didnd't show it. The shinobi trailing close behind him, he left the square.

A moment passed, and then The Hanged Man said to no-one in particular, "You can come out now. He's gone."

Something dropped down from the roof of one of the houses that surrounded the square. It landed easily on the cobblestones before standing up. The sun, positioned as it was, formed shadows that obscured the person's appearance. And it wasn't as if The Hanged Man's eyes were at their best anyway, considering the thrashing he had just taken.

One thing he could make out crystal clear, however, was the figure's eyes. They were slotted and golden, and stared at him from the shadows like lanterns.

The figure raised an arm, fingers pulled back toward the palm of it's hand. The sunlight caught and glinted off of something that was sitting perched on one of them. With a casual flick, it suddenly sent the object skimming toward the assassin. It hit the ground, bounced once, and came to rest right in front of The Hanged Man.

It was a small coin, not much bigger than a piece of Beri. On it was engraved the number twelve.

The Hanged Man nodded slowly, before staggering to his feet, swaying slightly as he did so.

"Let's make this quick," he said to the figure, "I've had a long day, you know?"

The figure just shrugged.

What followed was, The Hanged Man would reflect in hindsight, a perfect end to a perfect day.

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

The streets seemed to be just as deserted as the square had been. This was very fortunate - Siegfried and the shinobi didn't exactly look presentable at the moment. Of course, the shinobi already looked odd enough, but the addition of a limp didn't help matters.

Siegfried suddenly stopped. The shinobi did as well, before she could walk into him. A moment passed.

Then, quick as a flash, the bounty hunter quickly hopped back, landing right next to the woman. Before she could react, Siegfried wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her by the legs with the other, and pulled her up into his arms.

"...wha, what are you doing?" the shinobi cried. "Put me down, now!"

Siegfried simply chuckled, and resumed walking. "I apologize, but I've always wanted to carry a woman like this. Besides, you're injured."

"Regardless, I can still stand." the shinobi protested, struggling in his arms. Suddenly, however, she stopped, letting out a small cry of pain.

"You see? You are hurt." Siegfried admonished. "Now, please be still until I can get you to a doctor."

"I am not the only one who requires a doctor." the shinobi shot back. "If you do not get treatment soon, you will bleed to death."

"Well, of course." Siegfried said pleasantly. "But ladies first, isn't it?"

The woman paused, and then sighed and leaned back. "I am too tired to argue with you."

Siegfried smiled. "Oh, that's a shame."

To be continued...

Next time, on Bounty Seven...

Siegfried: Who is it that causes the distortion in this world, in your opinion?

Shinobi: Like you, I am a hunter.

Siegfried: I have...plans for this world.

Thoughts on the World, the Mind, and Revolution

Siegfried: I know exactly what I'm getting into.

Attacks

Siegfried

Geist Sturmfaust: German for 'Mental Thunderfist'.A variant of Geist Sturmfaust. Siegfried strikes outward with a powerful uppercut. This attack has roughly twice the force of the original technique.

Shinobi

Kaze no Ninjitsu; Kaze-Suido Kansei: Japanese for 'Wind Ninjitsu; Wind Tunnel Trap'. A technique meant to incapacitate a quick or agile foe. Summoning a powerful vortex of wind, the shinobi sends it to engulf their opponent, trapping them and setting up for a prepared or already launched attack to hit them.

The Hanged Man

Twine O' Six Tails: An attack similar to Guillotine Noose, only done with two ropes, each with three hooks attached. As shown, these hooks can be devestating if allowed to connect.

OPFan - Random? You mean, like most of the characters in One Piece? Again, thanks for reviewing, and I hope this chapter is to your satisfaction.

Until next time, see you.