Chapter 4
Erron Cassidy and the Reptile Kid

The Outworld cowboy yawned clandestinely beneath his facemask as he continued to sit through the Kahn's dinner meeting that failed to hold his full attention. Around the ornate stone table were the usual occupants, as well as the cup-bearers who stood off to the side against the wall that looked about as enthralled as he was.

Kotal Kahn sat in his throne at the end with Ferra and Ermac flanking both sides while Erron sat across from Reptile at the end—the usual seating for their dinners, unless there was a feast or the Emperor chose to eat his meals in his room in which they would do the same.

Black stared in disgust, his lip curled up as he watched the Zaterran guard pull apart the piece of raw steak and chewed it loudly. Usually such an uncouth display wouldn't bother him, but today the ex-Earthrealmer had no patience due to the hangover that battered his skull and appetite.

Reptile motioned for the young male servant behind to refill his cup by jerking his head roughly at it. The acute gunslinger half-noticed the cup-bearer flick a speck of blood off his cheek that sprayed from Reptile's treatment of the steak with a spark of humor that almost clouded his deadpan expression. The servant filled his cup and took his place against the wall as Ermac droned on about the damage to the aqueducts.

The only thought that crossed in the gunslinger's head was the wish he was in his room; the only place he could find solitude from the pounding headache he was paying for from yesterday. Still, despite the amount he consumed, he replayed the encounter with the girl from yesterday.

He would never verbally admit that she had gotten under his skin with guilt, and its continued persistence picked at his brain like a splinter he couldn't remove no matter how much booze he endorsed into his system.

Frankly, he didn't care that he had upset her—he had clear-cut reasons for withholding wages from her— but there had been something in her dejected demeanor and the way she had reacted to his payment that stirred faint remorse within him after she had left. Her reaction seemed to go beyond just being pissed off about the money—or lack of. It was unannounced, but he could tell there had been more riding on his decision. Perhaps it was because he had seen it and still decided to short-change her was what caused him to rethink later in his room.

The corner of his mouth tugged indignantly. There was no way to go back and change it, so he needed to get over it—just like she would. The mercenary still couldn't fathom why he was still so hung up on it. Maybe it was the alcohol.

He lifted his hat slightly with his hand, rubbed his temples and tried to focus on something else— perhaps the meeting he was supposed taking part in.

Black caught the Emperor looking at him with a dismissive frown but continued his discussion. Something about the importance of eliminating the remaining rebel forces that continued to fight without Mileena's presence; a few Tarkatan rebels left on the board that were still causing grievances through Z'unkarah.

Reptile offered a theory that Tanya had taken the reigns after Mileena's death, but the construct next to him rebuked it and suggested that it was Rain. In the end, the Emperor had shot down both of their theories; last they had heard, both Edenians were trying to keep a low profile and wouldn't commit any acts of blatant sabotage. Meanwhile, Ferra played with the food on her plate; flicking it around with her fingers and looked about as bored as Black was. This discussion had been repeated in the past dinner throughout the week and both guards seemed to long for a better conversation topic.

"Rumor is that the cowards have fled from the Kuatan Jungle to the Wastelands," Reptile informed his emperor with a wave of his hand, "Let them rot in the heat."

Kotal Kahn nodded; but closed the fist that lay on the table, "We must banish any uncertainty. I am concerned they will repeat their attempts with more desperation."

"The food storages and aqueducts are heavily guarded as of now," Ermac's multiple voices assured, "We will make sure they stay so."

The Osh-tekk replied with a minute half-smile, content with the answer. He sat back in his chair and raised a hand to rub the underside of his chin as he silently contemplated on what his next actions should be.

"Reptile, Erron Black."

Both addressed individuals turned toward their emperor, an expectant eyebrow on the marksman's face raised at him.

"It would please me if you were to quell the rumors of the Tarkatan Wastelands."

"With pleasure, Ko'atal," Reptile instantly replied with eagerness.

Erron Black simply nodded his head in compliance as he noticed Ermac's emerald eyes grow faintly brighter in distaste upon hearing the proclamation.

Erron didn't mind being handed the assignment, maybe some time away from the city would help clear his head. It was unspoken, but known, that Ermac and the Zaterran had full responsibility over the apprehension of the rebels and the two Edenians that allied with him, leaving Ferra/Torr and the gunslinger to deal with other considerable issues in the capitol. However, it was also known that Ermac and Reptile seldom saw eye to eye with other even if they belittled each under a disguise of professional civility. Perhaps it was because Kotal Kahn knew it himself, or he just felt like it, but maybe it was best if the two guards took a break from one another.

However, he could tell that the thousand of souls had something to say, all of them most of feeling as if it was an indirect demotion, but nevertheless, remained silent.

With no objection, Kotal dismissed them shortly after, letting them retire to their room which Erron was thankful for.

Finally, a distraction and an acceptable excuse to get out of Z'unkarah where he could hopefully leave his thoughts behind.

Erron descended the steps of the palace, dusk starting to blanket the desert city, with his rifle on his back as well as a few provisions in the satchel he dug out of the trunk. He saw Reptile already waiting for him impatiently at the bottom of the stairs with a few Osh-Tekk warriors, no doubt plucked at random. Black could tell that the scaly humanoid looked about as eager to escape the palace as much as he was. The nimble hunter loved the hunt as much as a bear loved spawning season.

"Let us go," Reptile hissed at him before he turned on his heels with the 5 Osh-Tekks following behind him, leaving Black to take the rear. Already, he was starting to regret being paired with Reptile and the location wouldn't help much either. The Tarkatan Wastelands were miserable, hot and empty, and he was not looking forward to spending the next couple of weeks among guards and an ill-tempered Zaterran on foot. However, it was a job and he was not one to complain if his compensation was more than fair.

They walked through the marketplace that the gunman noticed began to dwindle with activity and the ones that were still out and about, moved quickly out of the way for them as Reptile led them through the street.

Inwardly, he cursed at the other Kahn's guard for the elected direction he led them through when he saw the tavern that housed his irritated female employee. Black did his best to ignore the structure but felt his curious eyes drift of their own accord towards the damn rundown hut he hated. He mustered a glance in its direction, thinking of just sneaking a peek once before shutting the idea of the place out of his head for the next few weeks

When he saw what was happening outside of the door of the tavern, he had the feeling he was going to regret for weeks not keeping his eyes down.

The bartender stood inside the door, guarding the entrance as two debt collectors towered over her; Black couldn't help but notice the smaller brother was nowhere in sight.

He recognized Rhen from the back, and unconsciously found himself start to slow his pace when he saw him gesturing his hands at her in a furious manner. He was too far away in the marketplace to decipher what exactly he was screaming about, but just by his body language alone; he could tell that completely enraged at her about something other than a late payment.

Through the blockade of bodies at her door, he spotted the bartender looking as if she was trying her best to put on a strong facade but could see how frightened she was as she shrunk under the impertinent Outworlder in front of her.

Obviously, something had happened, and they wanted to take it out on them, usually in Outworld that didn't bode well. His thoughts drifted back to yesterday, when he had given her a pittance in return for her lateness. Now he understood why she had been as upset as she had been. Still, a deal was a deal and she had not delivered. Between the both of them, he was the one that had honored the agreement and felt that there should be no remorse for his actions. Still, it took effort on his part to swallow that conclusion when he saw the outcome of his actions displayed in front of him.

She saw him and their eyes connected for what felt like a nefarious eternity to him.

Erron narrowed his eyes in return to the hateful look of recognition he saw from her, mirroring her own feelings of resentment towards her, but after a moment, she regarded him with a look he had never seen before.

Her eyes softened as she pleaded at him with a look of ashamed desperation and it nearly made his stomach sick with guilt. She looked like a wounded dog begging for help.

"It's none of your business …" he thought to himself.

Rhen must have noticed that she was ignoring him because suddenly her head snapped to the side, a small cry of pain escaping he even heard despite the distance when Rhen backhanded her across the face.

A familiar image resurfaced from Black's memory that had unconsciously made him grip the handle of his revolver in anger. The single action, and that she had unfortunately looked like someone from his past, was enough to open his personal Pandora's box, as he felt a wave of uncharacteristic empathy towards her surface. It clouded his judgement, blinding him to the man Outworld had turned him into, as he turned on his heels towards the tavern on the fuel of his briefly resurfaced and bitter memory.

"Black! Why have you stopped?"

The indignant bark from the Zaterran was enough to snap Black out of his atypical stupor as he turned to see the Osh-Tekk Warriors and Reptile waiting for him and curiously displeased about Black impetuous halt.

He turned away from them momentarily to see she was staring as well. Her green eyes hardened by the seconds awaiting his decision ticked by restlessly. He noticed they slid over towards the group of enforcers before pointedly going back to him almost as if in impudent challenge.

We both know where your priorities lie…

Her silent and scathing scrutiny stabbed him in the gut with bitter abashment, and for a fleeting moment, he considered ignoring Reptile and assisting her.

"You gotta a job to do..." he reminded himself firmly.

His hand left the revolver, and he looked to Reptile, nodded and started to walk back towards them. He heard Reptile huff and Black tried to ignore the stare he felt burning at the back of his head.

He was a distance away but when Erron looked back, he could still see her give him a minuscule and enraged nod at him. He could almost hear her voice calling out to him through the gesture as if telling him to 'run along you son of a bitch'.

Black rolled his shoulders forward and shook his head, his eyes narrowed sternly in the direction he was heading. "It ain't none of your goddamn business…"

He walked and caught up to the group and allowed himself one last look only to see all three of them had disappeared.

Erron caught up to the group and tried not to speculate any further, doing his best to keep his thoughts focused on the weeks ahead.

2 Weeks Later...

Turned out the Tarkatans were not a rumor and had been camping out in the vastness of the Wastelands for some time. Unfortunately, that was about all the information that Reptile and Black were able to capture after weeks of interrogation and walking in the desert.

It seemed that many of the folks they had interrogated were displeased with being harassed by the group of Tarkatans, that everyone they had encountered were extremely cooperative. They didn't have much information to go on where the group could be. Just stories of their encounters that provided little to help them. It left them trying to pick up a cold trail until they came to their first stroke of luck.

They had found two small girls, both close to ten years of age, from recently reconstructed Sun Do. Both had huddled down in a small cave after they had been ambushed two days ago— losing their mother and father in the process while trying to protect them. After they had got over the understandable fear of them, they were more than eager to tell them as best as they could where they were attacked.

The Osh-Tekks traveled with the girls in the desert to the cantina they had stopped in a couple of days ago to rest and restock their supplies after a small discussion about what to do with them. The girls seemed pleased to go with the guards since the only other option— which was Reptile's idea— was to kill them.

Black was left alone in the cave that they had found the girls in, while Reptile volunteered to scout the area; it was the midday sun, and the Zaterran wanted the warmth. Erron didn't mind; he really didn't want to trek in the desert at its hottest anyway and took solitary comfort in the shade.

After a couple of hours, he leaned on the wall of the cave and absently spun the cylinder of one of his revolvers, checking every slot to make sure he had bullets in boredom. He lifted the hat off his head and wiped the brow with the palm of his hand and felt his nose twitch at the sudden, repugnant smell that entered the cave. He always knew when Reptile was skulking around in his camouflage no matter how sneaky the lizard man thought he was; the smell was always a dead giveaway, but he refrained from telling the scaly guard for fear of provoking the already intolerant Zaterran.

"What you find?" Erron asked, clicking the cylinder back into place and walking towards his fellow Kahn'g guard as Reptile materialized and addressed him with a scowl

"They are not far from here—a small enough group that can be eliminated with just the two of us."

The gunslinger nodded lightly. Finally, something to do. Just one quick job and they could leave this barren hellhole.

"Sounds fine to me," Erron replied, twirling his gun back into the holster and letting Reptile lead the way.

An hour later they reached the cave where the small group of Tarkatens were currently camped. Just as Reptile had said, small enough that it wouldn't be a problem between Erron's guns and the Zaterran's stealth. Black couldn't help but frown slightly. All this just for a few rebels that could be picked off in 5 minutes. This was almost as waste of his abilities. He wasn't sure if Reptile agreed with him, it was always difficult to decipher when he always held on to his cantankerous disposition no matter what. Although, knowing the Zaterran long enough, the bounty hunter could see he also felt his time wasted.

Both emperor guards counted the 12 Tarkatens in silence, all of them occupied outside the tall rocky cutout of a small stone cliff that was only shallow enough to provide coverage from the sun. By the looks of it too, they were finishing off the scraps of the girls' parents and beginning to settle in.

From their vantage point, which was right above them, they could tell the rebels seemed content in their ignorance that nobody would find them and let their guard down for the most part. There were originally 13, but Reptile had taken care of the single guard that was currently decomposing behind them.

Black frowned, "This is all of them?"

Reptile smirked maliciously, "Yes, a pity there are not more."

"Not what I meant," Black replied, the corner of his mouth tugging with suspicion, "Seems like too small of a group to cause any real trouble."

"We have found no other trail," Reptile hissed impatiently, "These must be the ones."

"I ain't buying it," Erron Black doubted, shaking his head.

"It matters not. Wait for my signal," Reptile told him. The marksman kept his eyes down below even after he heard him slip away into the air. After a moment of letting his fellow guard depart, Black decided to make his way down from the top of the cave, wanting to get closer when Reptile decided to make his first move.

He retreated down and crouched behind a boulder while he watched, unholstering his firearms with his thumbs on the hammers. Suddenly, one of the guards that had his back to him, struggled silently as his hands clutched at his face. Trying to pry invisible claws before a quick snap to the neck killed him.

Erron noticed Reptile's footprints in the sand as he moved towards the next Tarkatan that could be killed in silence, and like the other one, gave him also a quick snap of the neck.

One of the Tarkatans stirred from his meal when he felt something amiss. Throwing the mangled remains of a woman's arm away, he looked around and quickly spotted saw his fellow Tarkatans lying dead. He barked out what he saw, and the others sprung up; arm blades unsheathed as they looked around for their assassin. One of the Tarkatan's head snapped to the side as if a bolt of lightning struck him, and he choked and gurgled up blood before dropping dead to the sand; his throat slashed and red with claw marks.

While the Tarkatans wiped their heads in every direction, looking for who was picking them off, they had unknowingly formed into a circle that was perfect for the marksman for one reason.

Something dropped in the middle of them, and they all whirled around to see a small glass orb with sand within it lying harmlessly between them all.

"What—"

Bang!

Sand blinded them, and they cried out in anger, all of them stumbling around in a blind rage, as Black and Reptile finally revealed themselves and attacked.

Reptile emerged with an excited snarl and set to work, picking off the first that were still trying to wipe the sand from their eyes, while Black started to gun down the others. It didn't take long for the Tarkatans to recover, and they quickly retaliated.

An arm blade hooked for Black's head that he quickly ducked out of the way from, the blade soaring over the top of his hat, as Erron grabbed the back of the Tarkatan's wrist, pinned his arm to its chest and shot the Tarkatan point-blank in the face.

Another jumped towards him, and Black shot him as he flew towards him— he was dead before he even hit the ground. The gunslinger heard another one growl behind him and turned on his heels to see him charging him from a distance, his arm blades extended in a show of barbarous aggression.

Black, almost lazily, rolled a sand grenade and shot it, blinding the Tarkatan who ran into its path. The mercenary, using his opposite hand slammed the hammer back, pulled the trigger and watched as he fell backward, a new hole added to his horrendous face. It's an improvement, the gunman thought humorously to himself.

Suddenly, his legs were taken out from under him causing him to land on his stomach with a grunt. Erron rolled quickly out of the way as two arm blades came down onto the sand where he was. Lying on his back, Erron aimed and fired, hitting the Tarkatan expertly between the eyes. The rebel hit the ground in front of him, his head a mangled mess that stained the sand.

Black quickly jumped back to his feet and noticed that one of the Tarkatans had Reptile in a choke hold. The Zaterran spat angrily as he tried to free himself but stilled when he noticed Erron aim his revolver and quickly shot at the Tarkatan's kneecap. He howled in pain as his knee buckled instantly from the wound. It caused him to loosen his grip and it enough for Reptile to bring his arm back, cup behind the Tarkatan's other knee and send him flying onto his back.

Reptile hovered over the Tarkatan and instantly heaved and spilled venom in his toothy face. The Tarkatan clutched his face as his flesh sizzled off, letting out a gargled scream before it tapered into a gargled yell, and his movement went slack; dead within seconds from the acid.

Reptile rolled off, nodded his thanks in Black's direction then leaped in the air, landing on another Tarkatan and pinned him to the ground while the Zaterran clawed at his face, ripping whatever he could grab with ferocity.

Erron heard movement behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see another try to skewer him in the back. Black slid out of the way, got behind him and pistol wiped him across the back of the head once, twice and the third time aimed the gun at his head and fired.

There was one last Tarkatan that was fleeing on foot that Black finished off with a single bullet to the back of the head without even taking the time to aim properly; he could have done the shot in his sleep. He heard groaning to his left and found one of the Tarkatans nearly-fatally wounded, Reptile's claw marks all over his torso and face but still clinging barely to whatever seconds of life he had left.

"There anymore of you?" Black questioned apathetically.

The Tarkatan cursed at him and Erron Black responded by shooting him in the kneecaps. He howled in pain and glared at the human, gurgling on an answer that Black couldn't make out. From his twisted, infuriated features, both guards could tell he was spewing venom instead of answering the question.

"That a no, then?" Black asked sarcastically.

The Tarkatan died a few seconds after that, with nothing more than one last scowl and a wheezy discharge of breath, leaving them without any clue if there were any more rebels in the Wastelands.

Black sighed irritably, unsure whether they would continue to remain in the Wastelands after this point with no other leads. Reptile seemed to come to the same conclusion as the gunslinger and snarled in the Tarkatan's direction as if cursing him, as he stepped over him and walked away from the former Earthrealmer. Black holstered him weapons and placed his hands on his hips as he surveyed the wastelands before him, before the sound of bones snapping behind caused him to glance over his shoulder. He turned just in time to see Reptile ripping an arm off from one of the dead Tarkatans and shoving it into his mouth as if it was a turkey leg.

Reptile noticed that he was staring at him and snarled at the disgusted and questionable eyebrow Erron Black lifted at him.

"What?" Reptile growled before sinking his teeth into the arm once again, blood dripping to the hot sand underneath him. The bounty hunters only reply was to roll his eyes at his fellow Kahn's guard as he began walking back in the direction of the desert cantina the Osh-tekk were waiting for them with Reptile eating behind him.

It took another week to reach Z'unkarah and by the time they did, Black was exhausted but content to be back in the capitol city and back to his mundane comforts. After they had briefed Kotal Kahn on the events in the Wastelands, the Emperor, while pleased that more Tarkatan rebels were dead, frowned on the little reward expending his lieutenants efforts for the past three weeks came to; it had a been a waste of time in the long-run—Erron could have begrudgingly told him that before they sent them into the desert. The Kahn dismissed them shortly after their report and granted them reprieve from their duties until he had need of them again.

Black walked back to his room with tired strides bouncing off the palace walls, the only sound greeting him back as his thoughts unwelcomingly ventured back to the tavern despite refusing to pass it on the way back. His memory flooded back as quickly as a rattlesnake bite the moment he returned to the city, and it aggravated him to no end—it even made him want to venture back to the Wastelands with haste.

Fortunately, the weeks in the desert did help him clear his mind off her, and he wasn't as worried about what had happened at the tavern as he once was while under the scolding blaze of the relentless sun. However, upon returning, his regret came back with full force, as if it had been waiting impatiently for him to set foot back to where is problems originated. He had never known himself to get so hung up on somebody that didn't mean shit to him. It was aggravating and no matter how many callous and indifferent thoughts of reason he rebuked at his remorse, he still had difficulty silencing it.

He felt the corner of his mouth tug briefly up in irritation as he reached his door, pausing before opening it. Maybe when he went inside, and see the weeks of packages from the girl, his little melodrama would turn out to be something he annoyingly had nothing to worry about in the first place.

He opened the door to his room to find only an empty table and his displaced concern for the tavern girl buzzed around him like a gnat that refused to leave him be. He grumbled under his face mask, his eyes lingering towards the bed that called his name. He sincerely considered just going to lay down, he had been looking forward to his bed since entering the Tarkatan Wastelands. The astute mercenary knew unfortunately, that the moment he laid down, sleep would never come to him unless he quelled his restless cogitation. Perhaps, just popping in for a moment would suffice it enough to quiet it and never reflect on it again. Still, he couldn't help but perceptively speculate that it was gonna be a long ass night.

Night had descended long after his arrival back to Z'unkarah, and despite the thick, charcoal darkness Black already noticed more unsavory characters starting to creep out like hyenas emerging for their nightly stalk. One even had made the unfortunate mistake of trying to pit pocket him and received three broken fingers for the effort. Regardless of some of the cretins that tried to crawl into his money purse, Erron rather quite enjoyed Z'unkarah at night. He was more accustomed to dangerous folk, fitted in with them more than the happy plebeians of Outworld, and their tastes for the amusing depravity were more in tune with his. He didn't care for certain bottom-dwelling activities, actions that were universally unacceptable, he just liked to raise a little hell.

However, he was too tired this night and therefore wasn't quite in the mood. He constantly questioned his motivations for venturing out to see if the bartender was still alive or not. He settled with the connotation that their bargain was not over, and he was checking on his employee's well-being to make sure he got his alcohol. It was better than admitting that he was worried about her. Black scoffed at the idea. He didn't give a shit about her; she was nothing more than a faceless wonderer among a sea of nobodies that he passed by daily. On top of her unremarkableness, she was a pain in the ass and hadn't done anything to earn the sentimental thoughts—especially from the Kahn's contract killer. The only reason he cared if she was still there was so he could get a drink after he got done dealing with all this tediousness.

Speaking of unremarkable, he finally reached the mundane tavern, and noticed it was as dark and barren as a haunted mausoleum in a bleak graveyard. It was enough to raise a red flag; he had expected to find some source of light, but it looked as if it hadn't been open in days.

The gunslinger stepped inside the building, finding it odd that the door was unlocked until he stepped inside to find not only was the place a mess, but had been looted as well; the only thing left being a couple of wooden legs from broken chairs. His boots crunched glass beneath his heavy, leather boots as he surveyed the empty disarray. With the rich, pearl colored brightness of the moon pooling inside from the open door, the mercenary was able to make out two dark stains on the wooden floor of the cantina that he was certain hadn't been there last time he stopped by. A frown decorated his face behind his mask at them; despite the darkness, his trained eye recognized the stains as dry blood.

"Guess she wasn't bein' melodramatic."

Erron's eyes landed on the doors that led to the kitchen and decided to investigate further. He really didn't need to see the entire place to understand she wasn't around anymore, and that their deal was immediately void since she no longer housed a facility with his wants, but curiosity made him push the door to the kitchen open. Unsurprisingly, it had also been a part of the looting and whatever scuffle had taken place. Small remnants of flour were spilled everywhere along with broken bottles, pans while the cabinet with their food stock glared emptily back at him.

More moonlight spilled out of a haphazard door that lay on its hinges, hinting to an outside garden beyond. As he walked to exit it, he took note of another door that was closed to the left of him.

He pushed open the garden door with a small shove of his hand, the hinges of the door squeaking painfully at him as he surveyed the dying herb garden and a large dome-shaped ceramic bread oven that was as cold as the desert night was. He saw a laundry line running adjacent to him that hung limp, and when he turned his head, noticed a small stone sticking out of the ground like a tombstone.

Curious, he walked towards the old marker and the patch of disturbed dirt that sat unevenly in front of it; someone had recently dug up the grave. He nudged the dirt absently with the tip of his boot and looked back to the tombstone. He noticed it looked abnormally crooked; as if it had also been moved and placed uncaringly back again.

Erron walked towards it and pulled it side to side with his hand, confirming that it had been tampered with— it was far too loose. He bent his knees and lifted the slab, finding it lighter than he thought it would be, and put it to the side. He saw a glint in the dirt and crouched, moving away dirt with his fingers to see a bronze coin buried underneath the earth. His bare fingers traced the engravings of the Outworld coin as he expressionlessly wondered if it was one of the coins that he had given to her through one of their transactions.

He rolled it over in his fingers for a moment, his blue eyes returning to the tombstone briefly and then back to the coin as he understood why the grave-marker had been loose and pocketed the coin; obviously the grave served as a hiding place for spare change.

The mercenary heard something fall from inside, and his hand shot to his revolver out of instinct. He moved towards the sound with a hand on his hip and walked towards the unknown source of the sound. Expecting an intruder, he walked back into the kitchen and relaxed when he saw a pan rock back and forth and a rat run out when it discovered it was not alone. Black raised an eyebrow before he eyeballed the door that he noticed on the way in, grabbed the handle and pushed himself inside after the rat had scurried off.

His eyes squinted in the darkness to see a small office with two cots on either side of them room. Black noticed that one side had books hiding underneath the cot and figured it must have belonged to her since he had seen her reading the first time they met; besides the presence of the books, her side was bare. He was almost surprised that they remained until he remembered the illiteracy of most of Outworld's common folk.

Striding towards the pile of books, he heard a creak underneath his boot. The gunman peered down and nudged the loose floorboard he stepped on with his foot. Crouching. Erron pried it up to find whatever was in the floorboards had already been emptied out; leaving nothing but a small wooden box behind, yet another hiding spot for money. Black walked around the rest of room and saw nothing really of value and made the decision that he had overstayed his welcome.

The mercenary exited the barren tavern with a heavy head as he placed his hands on his hips and chewed the inside of his cheek.

It turned out he had been wrong to assume that it had been nothing to worry about; that her desperation was legit. It made him feel like shit in a way, but he couldn't help but feel that despite it, it was still none of his business. The only hand he played was that he didn't help her out to begin with, her situation with not paying her bills on time was her own grievance. It wasn't enough to make him feel solely responsible for their deaths. Still, knowing he had the capability that he could have killed the debt collector by just raising his gun and shooting him in the back of the head still nagged relentlessly at him. It shouldn't though, and perhaps it was him not understanding why it did, was what was bothering him the most.

"She's dead now. Time to move on," he thought frankly. While he was content with his crass inclination, still couldn't fully swallow it and go about his night. Perhaps it was because there was no absolute proof that was bothering him, though he was reticent to admit even to himself that was the case. Or perhaps what was truly bothering him was that he had an opportunity to find out for sure as the gunslinger noticed a familiar face with a torch was currently making his rounds.

The Outworld leerie didn't seen him standing outside the abandoned tavern, too preoccupied with his occupation, but Black knew they were friends; he had seen her talking to him when the mercenary had come in the middle of the night to threaten the girl. If anyone had any indication to her whereabouts, it would be him. As far as he knew, she had no one else.

Still, the selfish bounty hunter fought with his internal debacle that questioned his character. Why did he care so much about what happened to her? Was it just boredom on his part? It had to be. Otherwise, why did he give a shit? Curiosity never really got the best of him; he got on with his day without a care for others. And he refused to admit to himself that he felt responsible, he couldn't allow himself to think so pathetically about himself.

Whatever the case, it remained an enigma to him as he sunk into the shadows of the alleyway, and waited for the leerie to approach closer.

As Guang hummed quietly though the derelict area of the marketplace, suddenly found his heart trying to jump from his chest when he felt a strong, forceful hand grab the back of his neck and yank the older man into the empty darkness of an alleyway he was passing by. The old Outworlder cowered under the unfortunate fear of suddenly being attacked possessing him, as he dropped his things as his attacker used the length of his muscular forearm to pin him to the wall.

As regained himself, the leerie found himself staring up at the Earthrealm killer, Erron Black, and couldn't suppress the fearful huff of breath that escaped from his parted lips. The man towered about him with a unreadable disposition, looking over him blandly as if simply waiting for Guang to collect himself. The native Outworlder regarded him with confusion and he swallowed nervously at the mercenary, completely oblivious to what he could possibly want from him.

"I don't have any money to—"

"Shut up," Black interrupted sternly, finally speaking. "Where's your friend?"

The older man blinked. "I have a lot of friends— you'll have to be more specific," Guang replied sheepishly, causing Black to glare in response to his sarcasm. Perhaps he could have given the gunslinger a better answer.

"Your friend who works in the tavern, idiot," Black clarified impatiently, and despite the mask, Guang could sense the irked scowl underneath.

A grim disposition crossed over Guang's face when he understood he was referring to Norah. In all honesty, Guang was surprised that he was even bringing her up. From what Norah had told him, the bounty hunter had shown her no compassion towards her very existence, and clearly thought of her as nothing more than a nuisance. It adamantly surprised him now, he had the very same heartless man question him about her.

He brushed aside his thoughts, remembering that he had a rather dangerous individual interrogating him, and answered him with a despondent frown: "Gone.".

"Dead?" Black asked him, sounding more curious than concerned. For a hallucinogenic second, Guang could of sworn he heard a degree of hopefulness in the gunslinger's voice— as if he wanted to find out she was dead— and the Outworld lamp-lighter found himself growing increasingly angry by it. So, Norah hadn't been exaggerating when she told him how soulless he was.

"Half when I found her, but no— she is alive. At least she was when she left," Guang informed him solemnly, but his eyes bored into him with heated suspicion about his empathy. "When I did my rounds through the market a couple of weeks ago, I found her in the tavern barely clinging to life, but her father was not as fortunate as she was."

Black narrowed his eyes at him as he released his hold on him. Still, the older man remained glued to the wall as Erron Black didn't reply. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked like he was trying to piece together the story. Guang was not sure, maybe it was the face mask and the imposing persona, but it looked as if he wasn't that concerned about her well-being, but more so content with the answers he gave him.

"My wife did what we could for her as far as her wounds were concerned but the poor thing barely said anything," Guang continued, starting to get annoyed with Black's blank expression. "We let her know she was welcome to stay with us, but Norah can be very proud and stubborn. She saw herself as a burden to us which she most certainly wasn't and vanished one day. Truthfully, though, I believe she wanted to be alone to mourn."

A simple 'hmm' was Black's reply and his indifference to her situation angered the older man. Norah was someone he cared for dearly— he had known the girl since she was a small child and even thought of her as one of his own, and as any father would, felt indignation towards anyone that caused anyone he loved harm or pain. Norah had told him she had seen Black the day she was attacked by Rhen, and how he wanted to help, but perhaps the girl had seen something impossible, and all the spiteful words she had told him about Erron Black had been truth. He could tell the mercenary had cared— why else would he be here asking about her— but had chosen to act selfishly with regard for only himself. Even is curious, it was obvious to Guang that he cared only about his own self-interest.

"She spoke of how you had the opportunity to aid her and did nothing," Guang spat suddenly at him, narrowing his eyes accusingly. It caught Black's attention, and he met his stare with a hard glare of his own.

"Is that so?" Black asked, a small trace of chagrin in his voice.

"Oh yes," Guang said, happy that the arrogant mercenary was offended by him. "She did have plenty of things to say about you— none too friendly— and as far as I'm concerned you are as much to blame for her situation."

A brief image of Black pulling out his guns and shooting him in the head had crossed into Guang's mind (maybe he had went to far). However, the Kahn's guard simply regarded him with a unmoved demeanor filled with slight disdain before he simply turned his back to the old man, acting as if he had not even heard his last declaration.

While Guang exhaled a sigh of relief, stooping down to collect his items that had been discarded, he noticed that Black began to walk in the direction of the palace. The Outworlder scoffed angrily, knowing by just the direction alone how much Black could care less about what he had told him— as if he hadn't said anything at all. Guang knew that he was capable, and it would have been no problem to track her down if the mercenary had wanted to. But he wouldn't, his guilt was truly non-existent.

The older man had always tried his best to look for the best in people, no matter how deplorable they seemed and despite what his realm had taught him. However, the rumors about the Kahn's contract killer's nature had been undoubtedly proven to the leerie.

Erron Black genuinely only cared about money and himself.