Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece, but OCs and plot are mine.

Chapter 8: Bang!

Bang, bang, bang!

Ameria's brow twitched at the noises being hammered into her skull like nails. Groaning in agony, she flipped over in her bed and pulled the covers over her head.

Bang, bang, bang!

The bone mage rolled over again, curling into a tight ball. She grabbed her pillow and shoved her head underneath to try blocking the constant sound.

Bang, bang, bang!

Her attempt was futile. She let out a growl of frustration and sat up. Her ebony locks were in a tangled mess of knots and the strap of her tank-top slipped off her shoulder. Her brows furrowed into a straight line of annoyance as she looked to the door to her room. Staggering out of bed, she stumbling uneasily while her familiars clung to her calves.

She peeked out into the hall, watching as the mechanics of the submarine ran back and forth. They all had unzipped their boilersuits halfway and tied the sleeves around their waists, exposing their pale tattooed skin underneath. Their muscular arms were drenched with sweat as they labored away on repairs for Flevance. The men carried crates filled with new supplies over their shoulders with ease, their heavy footsteps mixing with the sound of nails digging into fresh metal.

The bone mage grumbled a curse under her breath. She knew she wasn't going to get any sleep with all the racket going on. So, with her familiars climbing the length of her body to cling to her shoulders, she made her way to the sickbay in hopes to find something to ease her pounding headache.

"Heard it was a rough night."

Ameria was unamused by the cocky smirk on the surgeon's face as she walked through the door. Law lounged at the desk in the corner of the sickbay, his feet kicked up on the surface as he took a pause from reading the morning newspaper just to taunt her. She slapped her hands to her cheeks, pulling at her pale skin as her fingers slid down and she whined: "Too hungover for this."

"It's what you get for being stupid." Tanker chimed, disappointment laced in his tone and he waved a bony finger in her face. "You plus alcohol is like black powder plus fire, equaling everything exploding into iddy-bitty dust size pieces. It's like you want to see the world burn."

Ameria pinched the bridge of her nose and with her other hand she brought it up to where her noisy familiar was perched, whacking him upside the skull.

Tanker lost his grip and tumbled to the floor outside the sickbay. The familiar howled, but the bone mage cut him off as she slammed the door in his face. Her noisy familiar pounded upon the metal, but it only blended in with the rest of the racket that had engulfed the submarine.

"Please," she rubbed her temples that were pounding. "Please can I have something to make the world just disappear."

"I'm a doctor, not a dealer of nukes." Law jerked his head towards the line of cabinets that covered the room's back wall. "There's ibuprofen in the cabinet above the sink. Take only one. If you need more, you will need to wait at least two hours. The idea of taking more than one at time will help make things better faster is a lie and will only get you an overdose. That is something I would not like to deal with again due to the stupidity of hangovers."

The bone mage felt too miserable to argue against his backhanded insult and simply followed his instructions. However, she noticed that beside the ibuprofen was another bottle that was labeled belsomra, which looked to be a type of sleeping pill. She pulled out the bottle, showing it too the surgeon. "Can I have one of these, too?"

Law glanced up from the newspaper, his eyes landing on the bottle briefly. "No," he was blunt and went back to reading.

The bone mage threw back her head and groaned loudly. "But I just want to sleep," she stressed the word. "It will make the world disappear for a few hours at least…"

"Welcome to the majestic world of being an adult." Law grumbled. "Where you have to take care of your responsibilities whether you want to or not, hangovers may be included."

Ameria pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. "What responsibilities?" She questioned, turning towards him to send him a glare. "There's no laundry to be done and I'm one hundred and ten percent sure you don't want me anywhere near the machinery for Flevance."

Law said not a word and never looked away from his reading as he removed one hand from the newspaper's edge and leaned over the armrest of his seat. Then he pulled up the cursed orange bucket and dropped it on the surface of the desk.

Ameria's eyes opened wide and her jaw went slack. "You cannot be serious."

Law glanced at her, his expression like solid stone. "Does it look like I'm joking?"

Ameria eyed him warily, her gaze shifting towards the door and she wondered if making a break was possible.

"Run away and you will might find yourself without legs, Miss Bones." Law warned her and pointed a finger to the stool in front of his desk. "Sit. We have work to do."

~…~

"Autumn! My daughter, what on earth happened to you?!"

Autumn sat before her father at the shrine in their home, tears rolling down her bruised cheek. She tried to cover it from his sight with her hands, but that only caused the green fabric of her robe to fall down her shoulders. It revealed deep cuts along the pale skin of her collarbone. The robes were covered in dirt and specks of dried blood, and the fabric was ripped which exposed even more of her skin. Her hair that was usually in a neat bun when she was before her father was a tangled knot of curls, small leaves and twigs sticking out from the frizzy strands. She sobbed, but then coughed violently, her hand pressed against her collarbone in a pitiful attempt to ease her sore throat.

Her father rushed on his feeble old legs to his daughter. The cane danced in the crook of his arm and he lifted the fabric of his robes to help him run faster. Then he crumbled to his knees. His wrinkled face was filled with concern as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Tell me, Autumn!" He shook her. "What on earth happened?"

"O—Oh, Father!" She wailed, burrowing her face to his chest. "I was only trying to help! I was only trying to help!"

Her father pat her messy ginger locks. "Please calm yourself a moment…" he whispered gently. "I can't help if you don't calm down."

Autumn's shoulders shuddered as she peeled away from her father's embrace. "I—I tried to warn her, Father." She stuttered, her lips trembling. "That pirate…the pirate named Bones. She—she was trying to climb over the wall! I told her to stop for there is a demon on the other side and she—she—" the sobs choked her words and she looked away, placing her face in her hands.

A dark shadow crossed her father's wrinkled expression. He shot up, his entire body trembling with rage. He whipped out his cane and pressed his thumb to a knot on the twisted wood, pop, and a secret compartment was opened. Inside the tiny space was a small vial of white pills and her father grabbed it, popping the cork. He threw back his head, his mouth opened wide as he shook the vial. One tiny pill fell upon his tongue and he swallowed it whole.

The sleeves over his arms were ripped to shreds, the hems of his pants were tattered to pieces and a giant tear spilt the fabric on his back. His weak limbs bulged with sudden muscles, his calves burst with popping veins and his torso grew five times in size, muscle upon muscle being stack upon each other.

Her father let out a roar that could only belong to a beast. His eyes were wide open, bulging from their sockets and blood shot. "If she wants to be within in the walls of the gate, so be it!" He clenched his shaking fists. "I shall execute the punishment myself!"

"Wait, Pops!"

The leader of Evergreen snapped his attention to the sliding door that suddenly flew open, his bushy brows knotted together from fury. "Fall!" He bellowed, spit flying from his cracked lips. "Do not try—" then the old man's eyes opened wide. "What have you done to Junior!?"

Fall stood in the open door, wearing his sloppy green robes so that the grinning skull could be seen. He had his hands on his hips, his head held high so his pompadour hairdo glimmered in the light due to all the gel. And beside him was an exact replica of his image, a mini, also known as his little brother.

"T—that don't matter!" Fall stuttered, trying his best to look strong as he spoke, but his legs were shaking violently. "I—I'm gonna deal with Bones!" he declared, jamming his thumb to his chest. "As f—future head of Evergreen, it's my duty to learn how to execute punishment… Yeah, that's it! I need to learn, Pops!"

Their father eyed the young man with his wild eyes, but then slowly the wrinkles covered them once more. "Hmph," he grunted, his trembling body relaxing. "For once I agree with you son." He admitted in his beastly tone. "I'm glad you are finally taking the role seriously. So be it," and he turned back to the shrine, his bare back exposed. "Deal with it by tonight or I will tomorrow morning."

"You got it, Pops!" Fall beamed proudly, a grin on his lips as he turned on his heel to leave the shrine, his calm little brother right behind him.

"W—wait—!" Autumn shirked, the ginger gathering up her composure as she rushed after her brothers.

The two had already marched a ways down the hall, but the ginger sprinted at full speed to catch up. A darkness radiated from her form as she grabbed the collar of her twin's robe and yanked him backward. She whirled him around, nearly chocking Fall as she lifted him clear off the ground by the neckline of his black tee. The mascara under her eyes had been smudged by her tears, making her look like a vicious wraith, and her twin cried in fear at the murderous glare in her emerald eyes.

"What that fuck do you think you're doing, moron?" She hissed with venom laced in every word. "You're ruining my plan! That whore needs to pay for what she did to me!"

"B—b—b—but Autumn!" Fall sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks and snot running from his nose. "I have a better idea!"

"You think you're smarter than me now, fuckface?!"

"Ahem." The small cough below them stopped the ginger short of beating her twin to a pulp. "It was my idea."

Autumn looked down, seeing that her little brother had an innocent smile on his lips, but his emerald eyes gleamed with mischievous intent. "Heh," the ginger smirked and let go of her grip on Fall, her twin crumbling to the floor into a fetal position. "I should have known this was your work, Junior," and she crouched down, leaning towards her little brother. "Now…tell big sis what you have in mind…"

~…~

Ameria leaned over, her arms stretched out so her hands were nearly on the other side of the desk. Her chin rested against the cool metal of the surface, her bored expression illuminated by the grey glow coming from her hands. The dust swirled around between her palms. Then she covered the tiny pile with her hands before removing them again to reveal a tiny skeleton.

The miniature skeleton was only the height of her middle finger. It stood at attention, a saber made of cartilage in its little hands. The miniature held its saber like it was a knight's suit of armor in a grand hall, but then it lashed the blade out. One boney hand behind its spine, the miniature then began to practice the basics to fencing.

Law folded back the corner of the newspaper to inspect her work. With an emotionless expression, he moved one hand towards the miniature. He pressed the nail of his forefinger to the pad of his thumb and flicked the miniature's skull clean off. "Wrong," he was blunt. He straightened out the paper and went back to reading.

Tap, the speck of cartilage hit the bone mage in the middle of the forehead. Her expression never changed as she covered the headless miniature with her hands once more. The grey magic created a new masterpiece and she opened her hands to showcase her craftsmanship.

The new miniature had its head replaced, but there was also a cartilage top-hat upon its skull. The miniature leaned against a bone cane, shaking its hipbones side to side. Then it twirled its cane twice before tucking it under its armpit. The miniature did a little jig, kicking one leg out and then the other as it removed and replaced its hat repeatedly. The miniature's teeth clacked wildly together, the rhythm sounding like the tune: hello my honey, hello my darling.

Law looked down at the miniature, annoyance cracking the emotionless mask he wore. Again, he pressed the nail his forefinger to the pad of his thumb before the dancing miniature. First, he flicked the top hat, tap, and then the skull, tap. "Stop screwing around," he warned before going back to reading the paper again.

Both cartilage objects rammed against her forehead one after the other, the force creating a tiny red spot on her skin. The bone mage groaned lightly, and for a third time, she covered the headless miniature with her hands. Her fingers wiggled in the grey aura and then she peeled them away to reveal not a skeleton, but a clam.

The clam was made of smooth cartilage, the lid slowly lifting like a curtain for the miniature within. The miniature stood like the Birth of Venus, the little thing having locks of bony fingers wiggle like it was touched by pure wind. One of its bony hands covered the area of the ribcage where the chest would be while the other held a section of the raggedy excuse for hair over its pelvis.

Law glanced down, unamused. He placed a fingertip to the lip of the shell and pushed it down, forcing the miniature back inside. Then abruptly, he slammed the side of his fist against the cartilage, shattering it to pieces.

He uncrossed his ankles and removed his legs from resting at the corner of the desk and he rammed the soles of his boots to the floor. Slamming his forearm to the desk right in front of the bone mage's hands, he lowered his head to be level with hers and he scowled at her darkly. He opened his mouth, but his brows furrowed when nothing came out and his lips sealed shut. He tried again, but nothing changed.

The bone mage stared at him blankly, and then shrugged.

Law then threw his back into the cushion of his seat. He craned his neck back, his hat tumbling backwards to allow his slender fingers free passage to run through his ebony locks.

If she wasn't in a state of misery, Ameria would have taken pride in the fact that she broke the surgeon.

There was a moment of silence, neither of them moving from their spots. Law was the first to break his pose as he leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his knees and he rested his head in his hands. "Sleep." His voice was stern and boiling was a tremor of anger. "Go to fucking sleep."

The bone mage shot up, fists pumping in victory. Then she turned on her heel dashing towards, not the door, but to the cots on the other side of the room. She flopped on the thin mattress, wrinkling the white sheets as she curled up with the small pillow.

"In your room, Miss Bones."

Ameria didn't move an inch, and instead declared: "I claim this cot as my own," and she was out like a light.

~…~

She clung to her dreams, holding to the colorful images tightly.

She was exposed to the waters of the sea, floating with gentle currents. The marine life swam through her transparent form; she was just a ghost to them. She drifted with schools of guppies until something larger with sharp teeth scattered them. The coral reefs warped with the sunlight filtering through the water's surface. The white lines of the waves danced over the bright pinks, orange and reds. She closed her eyes, embracing the serenity.

When she reopened them, she was in empty open waters. Endless dark blue filled with nothingness. The reef behind her had completely disappeared, leaving her nowhere to go. Then suddenly, a rumble came from the darkness below. Her gaze wandered to the sound, her eyes wide as she watched something emerged from the depths.

A cloud of black grew before her, the smog lifting to reveal as a monstrous version of her noisy familiar. Tanker towered over her, the red glow flickering from his eye sockets covered her bare form in red. He engulfed the darkness and his large skull leaned in closer to her tiny form. And then he snored, sucking her inside his gullet.

The quake of his voice made her sit up instantly, the noisy familiar falling from his perch atop her face and into her lap.

The darkness of the sickbay made her blink rapidly, puzzled. Then she remembered that she passed out on one of the cots hours ago. Her jacket acted as a blanket, draped over her exposed arms as she slept, and her two familiar had fallen asleep at her side—and one that was formerly on her head.

She examined the space, her eyes drawn to the tiny speck of light in the corner. The hanging lamp above the desk cast a yellow spotlight on the metal surface, three jars center stage. The jars were filled with floating hearts, the organs oddly discolored. The medical assistant sat behind the desk, a look of concentration on his features as he rotated one of the jars around slowly and then scribbled notes on a pad.

Brodie noticed her staring and he paused, looking away from his work to send her a small smile. "Good morning—" he cut himself off, scratching the side of his cheek. "Err, evening, I mean."

Ameria, still slightly dazed, furrowed her brows when she felt—or heard—the absence of something. "It's quiet…"

"They finished Flevance's repairs a while ago." Brodie replied. "They went to that bar you guys went to the other night. Apparently they have really good barbecue…"

The bone mage tilted her head to the side. "Why didn't you go?"

Brodie shrugged. "I've been helping Captain with some experiments," and he motioned to the jars. "I'll be here for a few more hours taking notes."

Intrigued, the bone mage asked: "What kind of experiments?"

Brodie merely smiled and shook his head lightly. "Why don't you go to the bar and get some food," he avoided the question. "Sal's already went to bed for the night and you know how he doesn't like people messing with the kitchen without his permission."

As curious as the bone mage was about the experiments that the surgeon and medical assistant were conducting, Ameria decided to leave it be. She considered it best that she didn't know.

Instead, she nodded in agreement with the medical assistant suggestion. She would admit she had a thing for good barbecue. She hopped off of the cot and tied her jacket's sleeves around her waist firmly and then gathered up her familiars. The two woke up with a gentle shake, Tanker more irrigated than Shnell when she placed them on her shoulders before she left. The noisy familiar had whispered insults in her ear the entire way to the bar.

The bar, Little Snitch, looked lively compared to the other night. There was loud music that rattled the glass windows and laughter was barely muffled by the walls. It seemed to take over the street. Other businesses that were still open at the late hours of dusk were closing up shop, yet she noticed that something was off. The hours painted onto the glass doors didn't sync up with when the businesses should have closed. Everyone seemed to be leaving early, even the bar's competition.

She warily noted the situation in the back of her mind as she peeked through the one of the windows of the bar. It was almost the entire Heart Pirates crew within, the men laughing, drinking and dancing with a horde of women that dressed in a disturbingly same manor. The women didn't look like the average streetwalkers, but instead, they looked as if she were a part of a local gang that owned the streets. If they had tits and ass, then she knew the crew wouldn't care though. She saw how they were on Amazon Lily, or tried to be.

To their heart's content: they would flirt, they would cozy up and they would—she shuddered. She didn't want to think of what else.

That thought aside, the chaos within Little Snitch looked almost like a private party with only two groups present. She couldn't help but remember something important when she scanned over a small group of girls that looked very familiar, especially the ginger that had cozied up to the surgeon. It was on the tip of her tongue, but she just couldn't draw it out. The memories probably belonged to the black hole that was eaten by a few hours of drinking the previous night.

She just shrugged it off; sometimes it was better not to try and dwell on nights when one was drunk.

She carried on her way, opening the door to the bar. She was instantly struck by an intense mix of perfumes that made her eyes water and head spin. The moment of distraction caused her to bump into someone in front of the entrance, but before she could even apologize, she was pushed to the ground.

Tanker and Shnell were nearly crushed by her back, the two small skeletons popping out from behind her shoulders. Shnell couldn't say a word, but Tanker was more than enough voice for them both. "Ru~ude brutes!" the noisy familiar hollered, shaking two fists at the culprits. "Learn some manners! You almost crushed the cutest creature in all the Four Blues!"

The bone mage rubbed the sores that bloomed along her lower back and then she looked up, seeing a pair of…twins, if she could even call the two that. The two had the same facial features that labeled them relatives, a strong jaw line and bright pink eyes and even their brown hair was done up in the same style of pigtails. But those were the only things that the two had in common.

The woman on the right looked more muscular than Jean Bart, which was saying something. The gigantic pecks of the large women pulled at the tight fabric of her black tee and the denim of her jeans looked ready to burst at the seams. Then the woman on the right was small, her figure petite. So thin that her ripped jeans had to be held up by two belts and she had bandages around her chest so her small bosom wasn't exposed by the deep neckline of her shirt.

The muscular twin crossed her bulging arms, her skin pulsing with veins. "No one is allowed in," her voice was deep, a deepness that also rivaled the tone of Jean Bart.

"This is, like, um," the small twin wildly chewed on a piece of gum as she twirled a stray lock of brown hair around her finger. Her voice was high-pitched, and the tone was catty as she continued. "A super, like, super private party."

Ameria blinked slowly. "…That's my crew in there."

The small twin blew a bright pink bubble and then the gum popped, covering her red lips. "Like, uh, read my lips," she stressed each word slowly as she peeled the gum away from her skin. "Private. Like. Party."

"No invite, no passage," and the muscular twin slammed the door shut.

Ameria exchanged a surprised look with her familiars, first looking to Tanker who shrugged and then to Shnell who merely pat her cheek twice. The bone mage then shook her head and rolled her eyes. Getting back on her feet, she dusted off the dirt clinging to her clothing and then stalked off. Not like the barbecue would be ever be as good as what she had a home, and it's not like she was in the mood for a drink either. Or ever again.

Ameria rubbed her temples, the memories enough to bring forth a mild headache. Then she felt her noisy familiar tug on her ebony hair, only fueling the dull pound against her forehead. She was about to whip an at insult him, but something else caught her eye.

Shutters were slammed shut, doors were locked and all homes went black. There was an eerie silence on the street, and it felt like the commotion within Little Snitch only grew louder. The only source of light came from the streetlamps that revealed a group of men emerging from the shadows of the alleyway beside the bar.

The group of grease monkeys approached, snapping their fingers with a bit of pep in their step. Then they stopped in the spotlight underneath a streetlamp, posing as the group crossed their arms over their chests. The yellow light reflected off the men's black leather jackets, and they tapped their boots against the cobblestone as they parted like the sea.

A young man stepped out from the shadows, his ginger pompadour gleaming in the moonlight from buckets of too much hair gel, and his leather jacket was unzipped, revealing a black tee with a grinning skull on the front. The group followed the young man's movements as he flicked his wrist, combs flying from their sleeves and then slapping into their palms. Then they all started to comb any stray hairs from their matching pompadour hairstyles.

Ameria eyed the group, more disturbed than she was when she saw the group of women inside Little Snitch.

The young man then spoke up. "Heard you made a…a, uh…" he paused, leaving his comb in his hair as he tapped a finger to his chin. "Uh, what's the word?"

"Mockery," a voice relied, the tone high-pitched and belonging to a child. From behind the young man came a small boy who looked like the miniature of the leader of the grease monkeys. The small boy stood with his chin held high and his arms crossed over his chest, his emerald gaze surprisingly more intimidating than that of the young man's.

"Yeah…?" Then the lightbulb went off above the leader's head and he tapped the side of his fist to his other's palm. "Yeah! That's the word! Mockery!" and he pointed an accusing finger towards the bone mage. There was a harsh expression on his features, the young man's face warping into a twisted look of rage. "I heard you made a mockery of my sister!"

Ameria's brows furrowed in confusion and her head tilted to the side. "Who?"

The group of grease monkeys followed their leader in sync—excluding the small boy— and then they all took a step back in shock. Their eyes were wide, sweat dripping down their brows.

"W—What?!" The leader stuttered, spit flying from his mouth. A bead of snot dripped from his nose as he ogled the bone mage with eyes popping from their sockets. "You sayin' you don't remember?!"

"I guess so?" Ameria shrugged.

Then the leader pointed a shaky finger towards her and stomped his foot to the ground, shouting at the top of his lungs: "You said you'd gut her like a whoreson's pig!"

"Oh…" Ameria held her chin, glancing down in thought. "I would say something like that."

The small boy groaned at the state of the older men surrounding him and he pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He grumbled something under his breath and then he reached into the pocket inside his leather jacket.

Bang!

The grease monkeys all jumped at the sound of a gunshot, their faces pale and buckets of sweat dripping down their faces. The heat made their styled hair droop against their foreheads as they all stared at the small boy that held a fancy revolver in his tiny hands.

Ameria had taken a step back, the bullet inches away from her toes. A billow of smoke still filtered up from the stone. Her brows furrowed from surprise and caution. She glanced to the side, seeing inside the window of the bar that the crew hadn't noticed the noise at all.

"Enough of this." The small boy's tone was just as cold as the look in his eyes. "Bones," he addressed her. "120 million beli. That's a nice bounty you have on your head."

The bone mage didn't like where this was going. Child or not, a gun was a gun and it seemed the small boy had good aim with it. If she could just get someone's attention…

Bang!

"Don't even try," the small boy smirked deviously. "Big Sis's got your crew on lock-down. They'll never come out until she wants them to leave."

Ameria grit her teeth, steadying herself. The small boy's finger was trigger happy, but she remained calm. Her gaze traveled to her noisy familiar that had went silent. "Tanker."

Her familiar snapped from his daze, a determined red aura in his eye sockets and he followed the unsaid command. He dug his tiny bone hands into the folds of his robe and retrieved a tiny vial, a red powder swirling within the glass. Then he threw it to the ground with a battle cry, causing a giant cloud of smoke to swell forth.

The grease monkeys coughed violently within the red smog. It clouded their view, their eyes burning and bloodshot with tears. They tripped and stumbled over each other, shouting curses at the heavens. When the cloud was clear, the grease monkeys found themselves in a dogpile.

The small boy growled in pain, rubbing his teary eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. Then he looked up, his glare scanning the area until he spotted the bone mage. "Stop her!" The small boy roared, pointing his revolver to the bone mage that was dashing down the street.

Ameria was forced to run inland rather than towards the submarine since the grease monkeys had blocked her path. She bit her lip, furious that she couldn't even run into the bar for help from her crew that was right there. She was surrounded by enemies that wanted her dead, and she couldn't even clearly remember why.

Bang! Bang!

Bullets whizzing past her cheeks snapped her from anger and she focused on the stampede behind her. The ground shook wildly as she ran through the streets, lost and confused when she suddenly entered a forest. A bit of confidence came back to her when she felt the darkness touch her skin and the voices grew more distant. There were more places for her to hide in a dense forest than a city she barely knew. Though, that confidence in her heart fell to the pits of her stomach when she reached a dead end.

The forest cleared, revealing a large wooden wall covered in charms blocked her path. She pursed her lips, feeling a bad omen was beyond this wall if there were so many wards, but she didn't stop running. Instead, the grey aura of her magic engulfed her hands and with a sharp wave of her hand, cartilage pillars rumbled from the ground, all a different size. She used the momentum from her sprint and leapt up the pillars, the bone crumbling as soon as her foot left the surface.

Ameria reached the thick surface at the top of the fence, ready to jump down to the other side of the wall when—bang!

The gunshot disturbed the wildlife, the squawking of hundreds of birds flying from treetops drowned out her scream. She fell to the ground, crumbling in a growing pool of blood.

Shnell and Tanker had fallen from her shoulders, and they scurried to her side, watching as she clutched the wound of her right shoulder. Tanker's jaw hung low as he was about to scream, but the bone mage gently shushed him.

"Y—you killed her!"

"D—d—d—dude!"

"N—not cool, Junior!"

"Tch. A shame."

Tanker covered his mouth with all four hands. The bone mage kept her breath shallow, trying her best to ignore the pain as she applied pressure on the fresh bullet wound.

"Now we'll never get the bounty."

"No way the marines will give us anything…"

"You morons, the marines take bounties alive or dead."

"Oh? Oh! Yeah, that's right!"

"So we just need to—wait…"

"Y—you mean you're gonna go in there?!"

"Junior! There's a demon in there!"

"You know the stories! It's the most active at night!"

"You can't risk going in there alone!"

"You won't survive!"

"I think you are all mistaken."

"…"

"At the crack of dawn, we're all going in there. I swear, I will get Bones's head for the marines. I swear it."

~...~