7th Winter Moon, 907, Sunset

Donning his vagabond disguise, Roscoe ventured towards the village he had his plan set on: Marshland Village. He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, applied a bit more dirt to his clothes to give a more authentic look, and messed with his fur until it wasn't decent. Once finished, he gave one last once over and nodded in approval before continuing on his way.

The walk from the Forbidden Forest was a tiring experience, but he dared not arrive in a carriage, lest he ruin the illusion of his disguise. Although, in hindsight, he could've been dropped off a lot closer than the entire five kilometers he trekked. He was grateful to have kept his body in good condition, or he would've collapsed halfway.

The long walk gave him time to recite the plan over in his head. With the money he had, he would book a room at a tavern and be fruitful with what he spent for food. He may spare the one coin or two for a drink, but nothing more. Next, he would go about his business acquiring a worthy heir to take the throne of Verde Kingdom. Someone young and yet to be at their prime, someone learned enough to understand the role of their position, and someone who could be easily influenced.

The last requirement stung a bit, but he shook it off in favor of the mission. Of course, he would have to be stealthy. Not only did he not want his cover blown, but it also wouldn't look good if a strange, withered man kept asking to see the local children. He'd be locked up and, worse, dethroned once his cover was blown. He doubted a simple explanation would rectify the matter.

He aimed for a son since it was generally more acceptable for a prince to succeed the throne. Of course, that wasn't always the case since he acquired the throne after Verde's queen stepped down. He wanted a son most of all, but a daughter wouldn't hurt his plans. He just needed someone naïve enough to follow his word.

I tried with Melissa, but she was too headstrong like her mother, Roscoe thought. He sighed and rubbed his face. I really wish I could've said something to her. The thought our last words together were filled with bitterness…aches my heart.

He stopped and stared out at the horizon. It was a miracle Odolina and I even had a child. We thought we wouldn't have our heir, then Melissa came into our lives. Everything seemed to be falling into place. And yet, Odolina…

Roscoe covered his eyes and took a deep breath. "Best not to dwell on such thoughts. I'm doing this for the good of Verde, and the whole of Virdis. I can't allow any other alternative to pass." He patted down his disguise, then marched toward the village.

Though the night approach, a modest bustle of activity stirred through the quaint village. Pokémon out and about, carrying on with their business. Some stalls started closing up for the day. Roscoe saw children scrambling back to their homes, a few brushing past him as he entered through the village gate. He kept one hand on his hidden rapiers as a precaution.

"Been a while since I've stepped foot in a village for anything other than business," Roscoe mumbled. He peered around and noted a few knights standing guard around the village. "I have to wonder what it's like for them, standing guard waiting for something to happen. I imagine it gets boring."

He patted his stomach as it growled at him. He could do a little searching later. For now, he needed something to eat. He looked around the street and spotted one stall that still seemed to be open. A lit lamps hung from the sides with an awning hanging over the front. Four vacant stools stood in front of the counter. Roscoe approached the stall and leaned against the counter.

"Excuse me? Anyone there?" Roscoe called out.

A Mankey popped up from below the counter and snorted at him. "Yeah? What you want?"

"Are you still open?"

"What's it to ya?"

Roscoe raised his brow. "A little hostile, aren't you?"

"You try running a business without a bunch of snot-nosed brats ransacking your supply while your back is turned."

Roscoe chuckled. "And here I thought the Foresters were the troubled thieves."

Mankey scoffed. "The Foresters? Pal, they're the least of my concerns. If anything, they're more guardian angels than thieves. Can't say I approve of the whole ransacking shtick regardless who it's against, but at least they aren't targeting guys like me. The kids around here, however, do as they please."

"Well, I don't have much, but perhaps I can lessen your burden a bit." Roscoe placed three coins on the counter. "How much can I get with these?"

Mankey picked the coins up and flipped them in his hand. "Tell you what. I can make you a really good stew with these."

"I thought this was a berry stall."

"You see those all around here. No, I'm more in the culinary business. You got the coin, I cook you a hot meal. Cheap, nothing like that fancy stuff at the taverns, though it's nowhere near as shitty."

Roscoe snorted. "Thanks for the tip. I'll have the soup, then."

"A fine choice, my friend." Mankey threw the coins into a bag on his waist, then hopped down. "And hey, sorry for the snappy attitude. Pull up a stool and stay a while."

Roscoe sat down and removed his cap. "Thank you very much. Got a name?"

"Folks around here call me Peggy, mostly those darn brats!" he snarled briefly before calming himself. "The name's Keith. Keith Tibia."

"Why do they call you Peg—" Roscoe looked down and caught his breath, noticing both of Keith's legs were peg legs. Even with the lack of feet, he moved around like a jester on stilts. "Err, never mind."

Keith started up a fire and placed a skillet over the rack. "So, what's your story? Never seen you around here before, stranger. Got a name yourself?"

Roscoe narrowed his eyes. "The name's…Fletcher. Just Fletcher."

"You look like you've been on hard times, Fletch," Keith said as he sliced up strips of meat and tossed them into the skillet. "You chose to settle down in this nowhere village?"

"Nowhere village?" Roscoe asked. "Doesn't seem that far from the other towns and villages."

"Marshland's not doing especially well these days. We're not a farming community like some of the other villages out here. That's why there's so many berry stands out here. People need money, so lots of competition for customers. The kingdom hardly sees us as important, mostly out of obligation."

Roscoe glared. "Is that so?"

"You from around here?"

"…No. I lived out in the outlands. Just me."

"The outlands, you say?" Keith snorted. "You lived a crazy life, my friend. I heard that's where the Freaks rule as kings. Unprotected land these ostentatious kingdoms can't be bothered to enforce over. Things get so bad that authority and security are rendered mute. A no-man's land where the people govern over themselves, and people with that kind of ultimate power rarely make good decisions."

"I never realized that's how bad things get," Roscoe said. "That's how I lived my entire life. Never would've thought there was another way of living."

"Can't say the alternative is easier." Keith chopped up some carrots and scallions. "A lot of villages like us rely on the support of the kingdom. Many families either rely on the more successful towns in the kingdom, or have to take up jobs in the capital just to keep things afloat. That's what Marshland's going through right now."

"You're worried you'll lose everything?"

Keith glared. "I'm worried we'll become part of the outlands. If this village becomes too much of a detriment to take care of, the king will call back his knights and wipe this place off the map."

Roscoe narrowed his eyes. "Stuff like that happens?"

"You ever heard of Boldvale?"

"I'm not familiar with it."

"Rumors travel whenever someone finds their way into our merry community. It's a forgotten town of the Senbo Kingdom. Forgotten because it was burned to the ground. And because their king made sure to wipe it clean off the map, just like any other town that merges with the outlands."

Roscoe's eyes widened. "What happened?"

"I don't know. Some big attack or something. Pillagers raiding, fire spewing. It was chaos from what I've heard."

Roscoe leaned back and stroked his chin. He expected that kind of behavior from King Tetrarch, perhaps from King Visconti if he had ample reason to, but King Talbot? A man that earnest and thoughtful to his people? How could he let something like that happen and pretend it never did? Did anyone among the Talbots know about it? Did Prince Erasmus know? He didn't seem like the type to go along with it.

"And here I thought the Wick Kingdom harbored a dark side," Roscoe grumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Just…nothing. Living out here must be rough."

Keith shrugged. "Not like all the kingdoms are like that. It's just we have no room for luxury. You either make it big, you don't, or you inherit a hefty some of money from some relative. I once saw a Zangoose and Samurott couple who passed through the village bragging about their fortune years ago. Local rumors say they were a couple of deadbeats who wanted to strike it rich. Guess they got lucky. Last I heard, they've been living it up, nudging elbows with Verde's elite over tea and invitations to the next big croquette match or whatever fancy sport nobles get worked up over."

"Croquet." Keith looked back and raised a brow. Roscoe sighed. "Croquet is the sport you're thinking of. A croquette is a fried roll, to put it simply."

Keith blinked, then snorted in amusement. "For someone who lived in the outlands, you're certainly learned."

"Not the first time I've heard that," Roscoe mumbled. "So, I guess the royal families aren't particularly welcomed out here?"

Keith shrugged. "Well, no one's going to start throwing tomatoes at the king, obviously. No one here appreciates the taxes, though. All of that for some measly protection while the king himself sits in his pristine castle behind thick walls. We have to work hard to keep up with those taxes. We have our good months and our bad months. We have a buffer to fix up the village, or we're barely scraping by with what little we could managed."

Roscoe glared. "Sounds rough."

"What do you suppose goes on through that king's head? I get why the taxes are in place, not just for the knight protection, but he's not doing us any favors winning us over."

"Imagine that," Roscoe mumbled, glancing off to the side. "Perhaps King Penworth wasn't cut out to become king."

"Tch, you're telling me. And yet, he won the previous queen's favor and married her daughter. Maybe he just though the position would bolster his notoriety or something."

Roscoe sighed, spun around, and leaned back on the counter. "Perhaps his motives are something more self-centered."

"More self-centered than becoming king? Gee, I can only imagine what egotistical views he has for himself." Keith stirred and flipped the food around, applying a little oil as he did.

Roscoe glared at the passing Pokémon, taking note of their smiling faces and easy attitudes, but imagining whatever cruel thoughts they had toward their king. Roscoe was no fool. He knew exactly what his taxing did to these people from the lower villages. They were the ones that despised him the most. All they could ever ask for was a little leniency on the taxes, just enough so that they weren't desperately gathering money to keep the village alive and well.

And yet…

Some of us have to be the bad guy for a just cause.

"Order up!" Roscoe turned around just as Keith set a bowl of stew down. He handed Roscoe a spoon, then grabbed his skillet. "Enjoy."

"Oh. Thank you." Roscoe reoriented himself in his seat and scooped up a chunky bite of stew. He slurped it down and licked his lips. "Mmm. So, this is what three coins can get you around here? I may have to come here for dinner more often."

"I'd appreciate the company," Keith admitted as he dumped his skillet into a water basin. He wiped his hands, then leaned back on the basin. "I never did get a proper answer to my earlier question. What brings you all the way out here to Marshland Village? If you're looking for job opportunities, you're better off taking up farming in Rainside Village."

Roscoe flinched. "Rainside Village?"

Keith raised his brow. "You familiar with it?"

"Sort of. I try to avoid going there. It's…I'm not welcomed there. Self-exile, you could say."

Keith snorted. "What? You did something you regret there?"

"Something of that nature." Roscoe shook his head. "Regardless, I'm not out here seeking a job. It's more of a personal matter."

"That so? Care to spin a yarn for this old cook?"

Roscoe sighed and scratched behind his head. "So, this might sound a bit strange, so take what I'm about to say with a grain of salt. The roads get a bit lonely, wandering from place to place. I lost my first love a long time ago, so it's just been my thoughts and me for a long time. You…could say I experienced loneliness ever since I was a kid. That kind of life sucks the life out of you. It'd be nice to share in someone's company."

Keith crossed his arms. "Alright, I'm with you so far."

"I have no desire for courtship, but then I figured…there's a lot of kids out here who lost their parents in one way or another. Kids who don't know what to do or have to rely on their own wit. I figured, with my experience and knowledge, I could pass along what I know to a kid who's too good for this world to wither away in the dust."

Keith raised his brow. "So, you're looking to adopt a kid?"

"Not necessarily. More like…give them something to cling onto out here." Roscoe sighed. "Sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

Keith snorted. "You kidding? I'd gladly offer up the brats who've been harassing me if I could." He pulled up a stool from under the counter and sat down. "Though, I suppose taking a kid into the outlands would be pretty stupid. If you travel as much as you say, exposing a kid to the outlands might not be your best call. They're fragile little creatures, both in body and mind. Worse comes to worst, they either die halfway down the road or live long enough to become the felons they try so hard to avoid. I don't think anyone wants to see a kid turn into that."

"Fair enough." Roscoe patted his clothes. "All I offer is conventional wisdom to those in need. I figure those struggling out here could use some advice if they want to live a good life."

"Generous offer you got there." Keith flared his nostrils and huffed. "Let me tell you, kids these days are nothing but trouble. That's why I never had them. I can't stand raising one the way I am now. I make enough to take care of myself, and it'll stay that way. People talk about how the upper class is full of entitled brats, but they've never met the street urchins who lie, cheat, and steal just as much. Pretty sure a handful of the Foresters are made up of those types, just more controlled."

Roscoe raised his brow. "I would've never guessed class doesn't decide attitudes." Of course, he was well-aware of that even before he left the kingdom.

Keith scoffed. "I blame it on fantasy novels these days. They always portray the poor as humble and too good this world while the rich are snobby jerks. Can't say I disagree with the latter, but trust me, kids aren't angels out here in the slums, especially the ones that fend for themselves. They'll do anything to get by."

Roscoe stroked his chin. Perhaps coming to this village wasn't the best start if the village children are as bad as he says. "Well, hopefully any advice I give them will do them wonders."

Keith snorted. "You some kind of idealist?"

"Pragmatist, mostly."

"I don't think hope is viewed as a valid direction for pragmatists."

"From a certain view, it could be."

"Tch. If you say—" Both their ears twitched to a commotion inside the stall. "The hell?" Keith got off his stool and looked behind his stove and boxes. "You heard that, too, right—"

"Pocket sand!" Roscoe gasped as sand flew into Keith's eyes suddenly. The Mankey howled in pain, tripping over his peglegs and falling onto his back.

"Tibia!" Roscoe yelled, preparing to jump over the counter. He stopped and saw the perpetrators sneaking out through a door in the back.

"Those rotten brats!" Keith hollered, feeling around for the water basin. "I swear to Arceus, I'm gonna—"

"I'll get them!" Roscoe dashed around the stall and gave chase. He immediately spotted a group of five children running away, giggling mischievously with a handful of jars and small packages in their arms. The group consisted of a Skwovet, a Clobbopus, an Electrike, Sandygast, and a Gible. "Get back here!" Roscoe chased them down.

The Skwovet looked back and scowled. "Crap, some old man's chasing us!"

"I got him!" Sandygast turned and sprayed hot sand through the air. "Scorching Sands!"

Roscoe huffed under his breath. Quick Attack. A white aura outlined his body as his movement speed tripled. He maneuvered around the hot sand and sped directly for the kids, rapidly closing the distance.

"AH! He's fast!" Sandygast cried.

Skwovet suddenly grabbed the Clobbopus' arm. "Charlie! Distraction maneuver!"

The octopus' eyes widened. "Wait, the what—AAAHHH!" Despite the squirrel's small size, Skwovet spun Charlie around and threw him right at Roscoe.

Roscoe could've easily dodged him and continued after the other kids, but he took one look at the kid's terrified expression and felt his muscles react in response. He stopped and caught the child in his arms. He took his eyes off the escaping group for a second and saw them escaping into a tunnel underground. Roscoe dropped Charlie and raced to the hole. He crouched down, then sighed in defeat, seeing it was too small for him to squeeze through.

"Outwitted by some brats. Way to go, Fletcher," he scolded himself. He looked over his shoulder and saw the Clobbopus trembling in place. "Hey brat, are you—"

"There you are!" Keith came running out of his stall with a broom raised over his head. He slapped the bristles across Charlie and knocked him over. "I thought I told you ingrates to scram!"

Charlie shrieked and covered his face. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"

"Tch! I didn't think a Clobbopus could learn Fake Tears." He raised the broom again, but Roscoe rushed over and grabbed the handle.

"Tibia, cool it!" Roscoe yelled. "I get you're mad, but he's still a kid. Beating him up isn't going to solve anything, much less look good for your business."

Keith scoffed, but relented to his point and lowered the broom. "Fine." He pointed the broom at Charlie, who flinched, and yelled, "But I'm not letting you off the hook! Finally caught one of you. You're going to pay for it."

Charlie shivered with tear welling up in his eyes. "I-I-I didn't mean to, honest."

"Tch. Just like the last dozen times you didn't mean to?"

Charlie whimpered, letting the tears flow like rivers down his face. Roscoe narrowed his eyes, fully taking in how scared and guilt-ridden the child looked. This was one of the heartless brats that had been taking advantage of Keith and making off with his goods? Sounded like a stretch.

"Tibia, are you sure this kid is part of the same group that's been robbing you?" Roscoe asked.

"He's the only Clobbopus I've seen around here in months. How can I not recognize him?"

"He doesn't look like a criminal mastermind."

"He's just faking it. He and his little friends have been pilfering from me for months. Only reason I couldn't catch them before is because of my legs." Keith rested the broom on his shoulder. "Perhaps the local constable would like to have a word with you."

Charlie covered his head and trembled. "I don't want to go to jail!"

"You should've thought about that before getting mixed up with those hooligans."

Roscoe glared softly at Charlie. His whimpering demeanor reminded him of Melissa when she was a kid. She was always a sensitive child, crying whenever she stubbed her toe or didn't get what she wanted. She grew out of it mostly. It felt, in a strange way, nostalgic. Though their relationship had strained, Roscoe did cherish those moments when Melissa was so small.

He sighed and turned to Keith. "Perhaps we can compromise without sending a kid off to jail."

Keith snorted. "And what do you have in mind?"

"You said he was going to pay, so make him."

Keith raised his brow. "Pardon?"

"Have the kid pay off everything he and his friends stole. He works it off, they go free."

Keith scoffed. "Seems a little unfair for the kid."

"Says the guy who whacked him with a broom. Besides, I'll search for the little monsters and force them to help out once I catch them. And I'll make sure they don't do it again."

"Tch. You're putting too much faith in those kids changing their attitudes. They don't like listening to adults."

Roscoe massaged his neck. "Funny, I don't like listening to a brat's complaints."

Keith snorted, then sighed in defeat. "Fine. I'll have the kid pay off his debts." He glared at the shivering Clobbopus. "As long as we don't have a problem with that."

Charlie shook his head. "N-No."

"Good." Keith spun around and marched back to his stall. "Come with me."

Charlie stood up and awkwardly scuttled after him. He stopped in front of Roscoe and looked up at him. "Um…"

Roscoe looked down. "What?"

"Um…thank you for c-catching me." Charlie rubbed his knuckles together shyly, then hurried after Keith.

Roscoe sighed and shook his head. "Stupid kids. Well, it might give me a chance to evaluate them as my heir, though I doubt they're qualified." He focused on Charlie and narrowed his eyes. "Although…" He squinted for a moment, then waved it off. "Nope. Way too sensitive." He followed back to the stall.

"Marshland Village. Here we are."

Regina groaned and collapsed onto the road. "So. Tired."

Katsu pulled her up by the hood. "Have a bit more dignity in your appearance, my lady." He rolled his map up and stashed it inside his cloak. "This village is relatively close to the Forbidden Forest. It's a long walk—" Regina groaned again. "—but I made plans for that. For now, we should find a tavern to rest up for the night. The sun's nearly set."

Regina lifted her head. "Huh. Didn't even notice." She stood up and wiped her cloak off. "We better find lots of rookie Foresters out here. If not, we could always kidnap some people and say they're Foresters."

"You know The Ghost will need proof they're Foresters, right? You don't exactly have a uniform of theirs to spare."

Regina waved it off. "Details, details. I just want to get inside and take a hot bath. I can still smell mustard in my fur. Ugh."

They walked into the village and went straight for the first tavern in sight. They pushed the doors open and were greeted by a quiet setting. Only a few patrons taking up seats and one table filled with poker players. Katsu waved Regina along and to the bar counter.

"Guess late night drinking hasn't started yet," Regina mumbled. She grinned. "Hopefully they have some good stuff laying around."

"I'd prefer if you don't drink too much while we're here," Katsu said. "We have a mission, and I can't have you working while drunk. Unless you want to prove me right that you need me to round up the Foresters."

Regina pouted. "Don't be so snippy, Katsu. I know my limits."

Katsu rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I feel like I'm babysitting you."

"How dare you!"

Katsu approached the counter and took a seat. He waved down the bartender and asked, "Excuse me, sir. Who do we have to speak to for a room?"

The Pidgeotto manning the counter fluttered over to them and cleared his throat. "That'll be me. You need a room? How long you planning on staying?"

"Indecisive at the moment. Perhaps a month, depending on how business goes." Katsu dug into his cloak and threw a sack of coins onto the table. "Would this also cover meals?"

"We serve complementary meals, though anything fancier will cost you extra. We're not exactly a high-end tavern around here." The bartender opened the sack and dumped the coins out. He frowned as only seven dropped onto the counter. "Huh. Seven bits?"

"That a problem?"

"Well, one room would cost you five bits. If this is all you have, I can only book you for tonight."

Katsu crossed his arms. "We're a little tight on funds at the moment, but we can acquire the money you need to cover our stay. We can pay for our other nights so long as we pay you by tomorrow night, yes?"

Pidgeotto sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not in the position to complain. We do need the money. If you can rustle up the bits you need for your stay, it's fine by me." He swiped five coins, then flew off.

Regina groaned. "Even in this crummy tavern, we can barely feed ourselves."

Katsu leaned back on the counter. "Patience, Lady Elmnou. We have time to cover our stay here. If not, we can always camp out in the streets."

"I'd sooner sleep in this dirty hovel than subject myself to the elements."

"You weren't complaining too much when you bathed in the river earlier."

"I was not going to walk around with a discarded sandwich splattered over my face!"

Pidgeotto returned and dropped a key next to Katsu. "There's your room key. You get Room 4. Please enjoy your stay with us."

Katsu took the key and nodded. "Much appreciated." He waited until the bird flew off to attend to another patron, then pocketed the key. "Anyway, I'm not concerned about the money. Our real objective is rounding up as many Foresters as we can and winning The Ghost's bet."

Regina punched her fists together. "So, what's the plan? We rush them down and take them by surprise? Or do we set the forest on fire and force them out of hiding?"

Katsu shook his head. "You said yourself that we need to win this bet via quantity, not quality. If we tried any of those tactics, we'd be targeted by every Forester in the area. The Fairy Knight is a high priority target because he's dangerous. Engaging him would be a death sentence."

Regina huffed. "Then how do you expect us to force them out of hiding? They're basically ninja."

"True, but so am I. The key isn't to force them out of hiding. It's to observe and strategize. We won't be going in to engage in a fight. While we're here, I will infiltrate the forest and spy on the Foresters. I will learn everything I can about them, even if it takes weeks. I will study their behaviors, patrols, plans, trickery, and all matter of security to single out one unfortunate soul. I will pick off the weak links one-by-one, taking as many as I can before someone notices. Before then, I will already have vanished from the scene."

Regina grinned. "Ooh, I like it! And what shall I be doing?"

"Staying here."

"…What?"

Katsu hopped from his seat and folded his arms. "You will remain in the village while I carry out the mission. I'm sure you will find something to preoccupy yourself, so I—" Regina picked the ninja bug up by the cloak and shook him.

"Do you have ANY faith in me?!" Regina yelled. "I can totally handle those brats! Are you saying I'm weak or something?"

Katsu rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't go that far, but—"

"You totally don't trust me to do my part on this mission. How dare you! I can so handle some weak brats who hide in bushes! I am an Elmnou! An Elmnou is anything but weak!"

"You gave in to greed and changed your great grandfather's—"

"Regardless, I dedicated my time toward becoming the best bounty hunter there is! How am I going to prove myself if you do all the work?!"

Katsu closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Lady Elmnou, put me down." Regina huffed, but set the Accelgor down. He patted his cloak, then huffed. "I was going to say that I needed you here to take care of our money situation."

The anger melted into a confused stare. "Wait, what?"

"I will be busy investigating the forest and obtaining any advantage we need to win the bet. We can't do that if we don't have money for food or shelter. While I'm away, I'm relying on you to earn us some money by any means necessary if you have to."

Regina blinked twice. "Wait, so…you trust me to handle this on my own?"

That, and this is a much safer location for you to be in. "Of course, Lady Elmnou. I can't force you lower your standards camping out in the wilderness, so I am trusting you to earn your stay here. I could easily do it myself, but I do not want to coddle you. If you believe you can do things on your own, then be my guest."

Regina blinked once again, stunned silent. After a moment of gawking, she grinned excitedly and picked him back up into a hug. "Oh, thank you, Katsu! Do not worry, I shall earn us so much money that we will never be poor again!"

"I have the utmost confidence in you, Lady Elmnou." Katsu wiggled from her embrace and cleared his throat. "I will take our last two bits to obtain food for myself. I will be back in a week."

Regina gasped. "Wait, you're leaving already?"

"Better to get a fresh start while the night is young. Do not try to buy any of the expensive meals unless you have the money for it. And please do not make me regret leaving you unattended."

Regina huffed and crossed her arms. "How rude. I will show you I am fully capable of taking care of myself. I am an Elmnou! The most deserving of that name!"

Katsu nodded. "If you insist. Please be careful." He threw the room key over to her, then shuffled out of the tavern.

Regina clenched the key around her claws, then groaned. "One minute he's complimenting me, the next he's mocking me. I will never understand that guy." She looked up at the second floor. "I could go to bed right now, but I'm more concerned about how I'm going to make up our money."

She first considered getting a job, but there were two problems. One, she might not get paid immediately and they were on a time limit. Two…well, she would have to do manual labor. No way in Virdis was she stooping herself to peasant work.

Stealing was another option, but that would alert the authorities once it got traced back to her. And, even though she could totally defeat everyone in this backwater village unlike what Katsu claims, she decided the reward wasn't worth the minimal risk.

Selling valuable objects could do the trick, but the only valuable thing she had was her purple cloak. The rarity of the color alone made it worth a fortune. However, she loved it way too much to give up. She didn't steal it just to pawn it off.

"Okay, what else do I have to work with?" she grumbled.

"Two pair! Aces and queens!" Regina craned her neck toward the gambling table where a very happy Arbok raked in his winnings. "Sorry, chumps. You either have the luck or you don't. Seems Victini is smiling down on me today." The other players groaned and threw down their cards.

Regina sized up the winnings with wide eyes. From the looks of it, they weren't from this village. They could be stopping by on a trip, or even gunning for the same bounty against the Foresters like she was. Any bounty hunter worth their salt would want a piece of the green-cladded thieves. The size of the Arbok's newly obtained fortune was proof of that.

A cunning smirk stretched over her face. "Ah, this is more my specialty." She approached the table as the Arbok started dexterously shuffling the cards in his tail.

"Haha! So, who wants to go another round?"

The table shook as Regina slammed her hands down, scaring the cobra into dropping the cards. She fluttered her eyelashes at them and asked flirtatiously, "Room for one more, boys~?"