It took hours for the fishermen to make their way through a maze network of flooded tunnels, some tunnels completely inaccessible due to being filled to the brim. One of the fishermen who was controlling the raft spoke his mind. "I must say, both of you must have been lucky to have come through Polyanka. I've met very few people who have traveled through that station and lived to tell the tale. My name is Fedor by the way, one of the fishermen of Venice and my stalker friend is Simon."

Cass was quick to enter into the conversation. "I'm Cass and my friend's name is Artyom."

"So? What brings you to Venice? It's rather odd that a Ranger and his friend should be traveling over to some random independent station."

Yet, Artyom was eager to correct him. "I'm not a Ranger, I'm a stalker."

"You're not?"

He shook his head.

"Shit, I almost mistaken you for one."

Simon, who remained silent after all of this time, spoke his mind. "Do you know the punishment for impersonating a Ranger? You would be lucky if their punishment is letting you leave without the armor."

Fedor shook his head. "Don't mind the kid, he's not fond of people like to break the law. I don't blame him since we have to deal with the zijulk at Venice."

"What?" Cass wondered. "I didn't understand what you meant by that."

"Criminals, scum of the earth." The fisherman answered. "Venice is notorious for having gangsters run around and think they own the place. Truth is, the station commander let's it happen since it's the only way to keep order."

"By letting criminals run free? That doesn't sound so efficient."

"True, but what can a bunch of old men do? Which brings me back to a question, what reason are you here for?" Fedor asked.

"We're going to sell off some weapons that we got off some bandits and then I'm going to try and buy a proper passport for my friend."

"You did a smart thing." The old fisherman answered. "It's far cheaper than what Hansa charges for a normal passport. They might be shitty, but Polis even accepts them."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They're okay as long as you got some form of documents."

Then the other stalker spoke. "You killed some bandits? That's quite an achievement for two people. How many did you kill?"

"I don't know," Artyom answered. "But thankfully the Red Line was there to help us out. Otherwise we would have died."

The caravaneer chuckled. "We almost got trapped until my pal was able to find a machine gun and hold them off."

"Maybe I could use a few gunslingers to take out some gangsters, how about that?"

Then Fedor was quick to berate him. "Simon, don't even think about it. The station commander already put you out on my raft of all people as punishment, it's bad enough you're on his bad side."

A loud whistle caught the attention of the entire group as they all looked forward. There was a light on the other end with a small gate with spikes to keep the outsiders between the locals and the underwater world on the outside. "Who goes there?" A man called out from afar.

"It's me, Fedor!" He shouted back. "Simon and I found some travelers from Polyanka. I thought I should drop them off before I bring in another catch! How about you open the gate, Semenovich?"

"Maybe you could bring someone nice for once. Like - I don't know - a girl."

"Then you're in for a surprise."

As the gate was raised, Artyom noticed the caravaneer was uncomfortable with the mention of her arrival when the raft showed up at the gatekeeper's post. An old bald man was standing behind the control box with his eyes widening at the sight of her. "God damn, she's quite a sight. How about I ask you out to dinner young lady?"

Her words were now filled with venom. "How about I come over there and kick your ass into the water?"

"Damn, she has a bite. Quite a good catch."

Then the fisherman de-escalated the situation. "Yeah, but what are you going to do with her, huh? You're too old for that shit. For are you know she might be the reaper incarnate."

"You can laugh now, but Semenovich will outlive you all!"

When they were past the gatekeeper, the raft made its way deep into the station where Artyom was amazed by the sight. As they turned the corner, Artyom was impressed by the ingenuity of the station's way of surviving. Of course it was flooded with water, but the mere fact they built an entire society on it. It's name was a tribute to the actual city he once read in a book, but to see something like this for the first time was intriguing.

By the time the raft stopped, Simon introduced them to the station. "Welcome to Venice, I hope both of you enjoy your stay whether it's temporary or permanent."

The duo stepped off the raft before their mode of transportation was leaving them in this unknown place. Even though it was part of the Metro, Artyom found himself in a similar situation when he was at Prospekt Mira with Bourbon.

Then he heard Cass growl in anger. "I really hate men like that." She commented.

The stalker was quite concerned what she meant by that. "What do you mean?"

"That old creep reminded me of a time when I was young. Assholes who thought they could get ahold of my ass like its a goddamn toy. I shouldn't be surprised that the Metro has those kinds of people as well."

"Hopefully, we could get out of this place as soon as possible." Artyom replied.

"Why is that?"

"I almost stirred up trouble at another station, their guards were not so happy I was accompanying a man who owed them plenty of cartridges."

"Well then, let's get rid of our dead weight."

"Yes, we'll get something to eat before I make our way to get you a passport." A man was walking by before he caught his attention. "Excuse me, do you know where there is a weapon merchant to go by?"

The stranger raised his eyebrows with his fishing pole resting on his shoulder. "You're new here? Well, I don't blame you." Then his finger pointed to the duo's left. "He's right over there."

Upon turning their heads to their left, a middle-aged man was sitting on several ammunition crates besides weapon panels for showcasing. "Spasibo."

"No problem, young man. Just stay clear of the gangsters."

They made their way towards the merchant by the wall, who was advertising his weapons to all in the Metro. "Come and buy, they are the best weapons in the Metro! You won't get nothing like them at all!"

When Artyom presented himself to the merchant, he expressed a warm smile to the man in question. "Excuse me, I'm here to sell some weapons."

"You are? Let's see what you got?"

"Ladna, Cass bring your guns out."

One-by-one, a dozen of weapons, shotguns, semi-auto pistols, and makeshift sub-machine guns were given to the merchant. He began to estimate the worth of the weapons as he reached for his bag filled with cartridges. "These were used, yes?"

He nodded his head. "I'll pay for it, but they'll be three-fourths of what they used to cost. Is that okay with you?"

"Da. I hope it's acceptable."

"Somewhat, I can hand enough bullets on hand, but the rest will come as a receivable from Hansa."

"You don't have enough?" Cass wondered.

"Sadly, yes. The gangsters have made it difficult for me to make money, any more and I'll be handing out more than I can chew. I hope both of you can understand my plight."

How could he avert this problem for the merchant? "You don't have the bullets on hand, correct?"

"Yes."

"How about I buy what I like?" Artyom suggested. "I could appreciate some different gear."

"Very well, take a look at my shop."

When the merchant uncovered the panels, the stalker noted a highly renowned weapon of the Metro, one many appreciated when they got their hands on them. He could get rid of his suppressed sub-machine gun for an assault rifle that he truly wanted. Of course, it wasn't Bourbon's assault rifle, but he needed an upgrade. "How much for the Kalash?"

"Seventy-five bullets." The merchant answered. "The attachments are a standard. Is it a buy or a trade-out?"

"Trade-out, but I'll be adding some attachments to my weapon."

When they were finished with their transactions, Artyom and Cass walked into a bar with three empty tables present and nobody else present aside from the bartender. Yet, Cass took the opportunity to take a seat at one of the tables with relief. "Finally, a bar."

The bartender turned around and noted their arrival before he greeted them with a warm chuckle. "Welcome to my bar. It looks like both of you are new here. What can I do for you?" He asked before taking his furry hat off to scratch his head.

Artyom chuckled at the thought. "What do you have here?"

"Unlike most of the stations who might serve rat or pork, Venice has a nice specialty with its shrimp population. Do you want some?"

He nodded his head.

"Alright, ten bullets per person." The stalker made his way to the bartender to dispense the military-grade rounds out of the cartridge before the bartender leaned forward to whisper to him. "Normally, you would have to pay extra for the beer, but consider a gift from me since you're here with your lady."

That was quite a relief before the bartender whistled to a cook opposite of the bar, who immediately began chopping his meat and dumping them into a pot. Then he was handed two cups filled with beer as he made his way over to the caravaneer.

Cass smiled at the beverage before she took her cup and sipped it between her lips. Once she was finished, her face didn't appear to like it. "I'll admit… that was an interesting taste. I don't think I'll forget that."

Artyom rolled his eyes. "It's an acquired taste that's for sure." Before taking his sip from his cup as well. This time, he felt the burning sensation throughout his throat. "However, the bartender was handing it out for free."

"So why come here and eat when we had our rations?"

"Because it's respectful to the locals. It gives them some money throughout the station while we get a good time. Something I learned when I first left my home station."

"Really?" She asked. "When did you learn that?"

"After our caravan was ambushed by nosalises."

"Now that's a story to tell. Mind letting me hear of it? I'm rather curious."

He chuckled at the thought before taking off his helmet and placing it on the table. "It started out with me and three other travelers. My stepfather was sending supplies to Riga and everything was going well until the main tunnel had collapsed. Thankfully, we went into an alternative tunnel to get us there, but… we were knocked out."

"What happened then? How did you survive the encounter? Don't leave me hanging, you have a story right there."

"I was the first to wake up from a dream, but I was quick to wake up a friend of mine - Eugine." Artyom answered. "We saw the pack of nosalises, I had to kill them from reaching Eugine while he pushed the trolley. I had some close calls, but Eugine handed his shotgun over to me - the very same one you got to use."

Her eyes began to widen in surprise. "That shotgun was his?" She wondered. "If we do meet him, I want to thank him."

"That depends. God only knows where everyone is at Exhibition. As for the story, one of the mutants caught one of our people and killed him. I almost died on the way when I fell out. Thankfully, they covered me before they burned the entire tunnel out with a flamethrower."

"You were in a caravan? Once we get back to the Mojave, I might hire you to be the head security of my caravan company… or what's left of them."

She had her own company? "That's quite a large responsibility. I don't think I'm capable."

"Bullshit." She replied. "You trekked all the way from the Mojave and into the Sierra Madre just to rescue my ass. That's dedication right there. The only other person who was with you was the communist, but I doubt he knew the area any better than you did."

He didn't want anybody hearing their conversation as he noted the bartender busily cleaning his cups. "You can thank the Dark Ones for getting me there."

Cass took another sip. "My point stands. You came back for me. The people who did work for me either abandoned or skipped me for other companies like the Crimson Caravan."

"You said something happened to your caravan, what happened?"

"They were hit by raiders, nothing else left of them."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

She shook her head. "There's no need to say sorry. It wasn't your fault in the first place."

A very large man in a butcher's apron walked up to them with two bowls ready for the meal. "Here's your meal of fresh shrimp mixed in mushroom sauce and fish bits."

Her expression was quite surprised. "You guys have fish here?"

The butcher nodded his head. "Yes. Of course, the radiation mutated them to have legs, but we have fish. Is that a problem?"

"No, it's just that I haven't had fish before."

He chuckled. "Then you're going to enjoy this meal. Both of you enjoy."

After he left, Artyom grabbed his spoon and began scooping up the meat in the sauce. When he took his first spoonful, he savored the taste of hot spices mixed with the meat. "This is honestly better than what I had in Prospekt Mira."

"What did you have?" She asked.

"Cooked rats."

"What's wrong with that?"

The young man didn't wanted to be reminded of his terrible memory of such creatures, how his original home station was flooded in their endless numbers. Rather than spoil the mood, he took the opportunity to dismiss it. "Let's just say I had a bad time with rats."

When she took the opportunity, her first words of the food came out. "H-Hot. I didn't think much of it, but what did the cooks put in it."

"Spices. Back before the bombs fell, I once read that Russia was a multi-ethnic nation filled with various cultures." Artyom began. "When the bombs fell, people were less likely to care which culture you came from as long as the food was warm and tastes good."

"Shit, we don't get anything like that in the Mojave. All we get is a slab of meat on our plate, some vegetables and that's it."

The stalker smiled at the thought. "Welcome to the Metro." Then he noticed Cass's expression change. "What's wrong?"

"We got trouble." The caravaneer answered. "There are five guys who are looking for it. Don't turn around, we'll be asking for it."

He heard one of the men call out the bartender. "Sergei, why don't you give us some of the best drinks we could buy?"

Artyom looked at the bartender to see him comply to their requests. "Ladna, I'll get you the best of drinks."

"Very good. How about a nice meal to go with that?"

"Oleg, five meals! Don't forget the pork!"

The group began to take their seats all except one, who made his way over to their table. "That's quite a pretty lady you have right here. Why don't you leave so she can be in the company of a real man?"

Artyom looked up from his seat to find out that all of the gangsters were wearing vests, displaying their loyalty to their group. "I'm sorry, but this seat is taken."

"That's not a request, move your ass."

"This seat is taken." He replied.

"Oh hell it is."

Then Sergei spoke his mind. "Misha, no need to start a fight. I could get you a chair."

"Fuck your chair!" The gangster replied. "This stalker thinks he can act tough, I'll bet all of you ten bullets this punk won't last a punch."

To everyone's surprise, Cass spoke her mind. "I bet double that I'll kick all of your asses before you wake up the next day."

"Shut up, bitch. No one asked you!"

The caravaneer immediately grabbed her bowl and splashed it in his face. He screamed at the burning sauce before. The others stood up from their seats to confront them.

"Let's teach these fuckers a new one!"

One of the men descended on her, but she punched him before taking one big sip of her cup of beer. "Something fun for once." Cass commented before the brawl began.

Artyom was quick to unsheathe his knife; however, he had no intention of using the blade. The gangster tossed a punch in his direction, but he dodged to the left of his fist and allowed an uppercut to embrace his brass knuckles. His body was knocked back against the net railing, where he fell off and landed in the water.

A second man confronted him as he grabbed one of the chairs and swung it in his direction.

He backed up, slipping past his table while he noticed Cass grab a bottle and smashed it on Misha's head before he slumped to the ground.

Yet, the man confronting him was pushing him away by using the chair's legs to keep him from getting closer. Rather than waste his time, Artyom sheathed his knife and turned the table into a battering ram as he shoved the gangster back. However, he was quick to grab his armored helmet as he pushed his victim into the waters of Venice alongside his other pal.

Meanwhile, Cass received a punch from one of the men, only to find him look at his hand in pain. "Goddamn, what the hell is that thing made of?" Before he backed away alongside with another gangster. "Fuck this, we'll get you next time."

She treat the threat as much. "Then we'll kick your ass next time."

However, the stalker and the caravaneer saw a distressed Sergei behind the bar. "Fucking hell, you guys just made mess of my bar. That bottle almost cost me a fortune to make."

"I'm sorry about that."

"Sorry? No amount of sorry is going to-"

He was interrupted when Artyom walked up to him and handed him a cartridge. "We're sorry we caused some trouble in your bar and your bottle."

Sergei scratched his unshaven chin before he took the bullets. "Okay, I'll accept as long as that shit doesn't happen again, understand?"

The young man nodded his head. "Yes."

"You guys should get going, the station commander is not going to like this when he hears you caused a fight with the gangsters."

"I've got some business here. Is there a place we can lay low until it blows over?"

The bartender nodded his head and point to his right. "Follow the path on my right and you'll find Sasha's… hotel. The son of a bitch pays high to newcomers, but he's worth it if you're escaping the commander's watchful eye."

"Thank you, I'll get going."

The bartender's suggestion was very helpful as they managed to find a small shack enough for two beds. When Artyom closed the door shut, they both sat upon their temporary quarters while Cass pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "It's been awhile since I got into a bar fight. Feels fun to enjoy."

Yet, Artyom wasn't amused. "You have a very strange definition of fun."

"What's wrong with that? A girl can't get into a fight?"

He shook his head. "No, none of that. We should be lucky the commander didn't find us and toss our ass out of the station."

The caravaneer's took a large swig from the bottle while her cheeks were showing red. After she finished downing the whole bottle, the woman spoke out her thoughts. "Assholes, I'm still hungry."

Artyom took off his knapsack and placed his newly acquired pneumatic weapon and Kalash on the side as he reached down to bring out two cans. "Don't worry, I still have some of our rations that I found from the Sierra Madre. It should be enough for two of us."

"How nice, you brought food."

"Always prepared." Then he noticed something odd when the caravaneer walked over to his side of the shack. "Cass, what's wrong with you?"

"I'm in the mood for both of us to spend a bit of time together." She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "How about now?"

"I think that's the alcohol kicking in." He commented.

She rolled her eyes. "Thank you for ruining the moment." Then Cass walked back to her bed and grabbed another bottle. "I was hoping we'd spend an intimate moment together."

"Why is that?"

"You saved my life. Most people in the wasteland would leave people they only met for several days for dead. I'd think you'd deserve something for your effort."

Artyom pulled the lid off the can of cram. "I did it because it was a decent thing for me to do, not so I could sleep with you. Taking advantage over people is something I look down upon."

"That's what I like about you, Artyom. You did it because it was a good deed, not because you saw my ass like the rest of the assholes I've met in this place."

He drew his knife out and began eating bits from inside. "Still don't see why you see me so special. I'm sure there are men out there who are better than me."

"Maybe you don't see it."

Author's Note: I feel like I need some criticism on the relationship between Artyom and Cass, but I can't seem to put my finger on it. Would be helpful if somebody pointed it out given that I don't exactly feel right about the end of the chapter.

Someguy the anon: Shrimps. Very big shrimps… with hand grenades.

Mandalore the Freedom: I disagree about those places being more evil than Polyanka. If you play the Khan level of the Chronicles DLC or watch a video about it, one of the most terrifying horrors is the swarm of rats that flood the areas around the station. They are the ones that killed Artyom's mother and he still has PTSD about rats in the novels. Aside from that, ghosts are far more dangerous than enemies like ghost people or the swamp people. If a stalker ends up in their way or touches the silhouettes of the damned souls, they usually join them in an endless loop of their final moments. In other words, don't touch the blast shadows! I also intended to add Artyom learn about Khan's past, but I didn't want to copy the Khan level.

One of the reasons why I wanted Artyom and Cass, especially the former, is the simple fact that Artyom has enough time with the practical and he needs to deal with the philosophical aspects of his life. Why Polyanka of all places? Sometimes it shows you things that need to be seen. It's one of Metro series stronger suit.

Paladin Bailey: Hopefully, it does improve from that setback.