20th Winter Moon, 907

Trudging through the vast snowy fields, Valentine, Sid, and Ragger followed their map towards the unmarked location out in the vast, unpopulated territory of the Wick Kingdom. They trekked lightly and kept alert through the deep reaches of the terrain. Far from civilization, they waded through dangerous territory unlike most of what they faced.

The infamous outlands, as they were called. Territory ungoverned by their respective kingdoms due to rampant crime and unavailable manpower to quell the turmoil. It simply no longer became an issue for royal families to attend to, so they tightened security around their other towns and pushed back the criminals. It wasn't uncommon to find entire towns littered with gangs and taking up space in abandoned buildings. It was something of a grandchild to the haunted Great Ruins.

Fortunately, the trio (quartet if you counted their bucket companion) hadn't encountered any dangerous obstacles to impede their journey. With knowledge of bounty hunters tracking them, however, they kept an eye out for the Hitmonchan they encountered, along with his unidentified partner.

Ragger, especially, kept watch for him, perhaps too eagerly than necessary. He remembered the weight of Casimir's punch just from its pressure. Ragger's honed battle instincts weren't enough to block that punch, despite being saved by a last second intervention by Valentine and Sid. Even though his body reacted before his mind did, he wouldn't have been fast enough to stop that punch. Who knew what would've happened had Valentine and Sid not shown up when they did?

And yet, he was eager because the threat of a dangerous opponent excited him. He hadn't had a decent brawl since Seismic Frank, and that wasn't all that satisfying. He didn't want to fight some grappler, he wanted the full experience of fists clashing. Getting tossed around didn't excite him, but a battle against a seasoned fighter like Casimir sounded too good to pass up. In a way, he was kind of ticked off that his superiors interrupted the brief exchange. He wanted to test his mettle against someone who could give him an exciting brawl.

He saw the fire in Casimir's eyes. For all his dry demeanor, he knew Casimir lived to fight. What more could Ragger ask for in an opponent?

However, despite his fascination with a brawl, Ragger lingered on their conversation the most. Perhaps he thought so much about a good fight, he didn't want to think about the cold reality Casimir introduced to him. He seemed like Ragger's best shot at finding answers, only to be told that his personal mission was an invitation to execution.

Perhaps there was something overly ambitious about taking on an entire kingdom to meet his goals, but it couldn't be helped. Ragger was just too stubborn to accept a hopeless reality.

"You know this isn't over, right?" Casimir's voice echoed.

I never answered your question, did I? Next time I find you, I'm beating a concise answer out of you. And then…I'll find Freya and bring her home.

"I still can't believe someone would have a prison all the way out here." Ragger shook out of his thoughts and turned to his superiors, who appeared to have conversing while he was deep in thought.

Valentine shrugged. "It's not found on most maps. We're just lucky Petra's good at cartography. Still, we don't have much information on this prison. To have it stationed in the outlands seems like a bold statement."

Sid glared. "Speaking of which, what about that weird request we found? About the Widforss family's representative?"

"That, I still can't make heads or tails of," Valentine admitted.

"What was so weird about that?" Ragger asked, not completely on track with their thinking.

"When Sid and I found the Dukes' location, we discovered someone under the Widforss royal family requested their transfer to this Wick Kingdom prison. What doesn't make sense is that Algus and Wick aren't allies, as far as we know at least. Plus, given the other half of their group was sent to the same prison makes the request all the more suspicious."

Ragger glared. "You don't suppose someone from the Widforss family is planning a coup."

"Too early to make assumptions, and we don't know if it's a family member or a representative. But there's definitely a possibility of a traitor lurking in the Algus Kingdom, someone with enough influence to make demands on behalf of the king." Valentine narrowed his eyes, then handed the map to Ragger. "Makes me wonder…" He pulled a ragged journal from his bag.

Sid gasped. "You brought Giles' journal?"

"Good light reading at night, plus I'm still trying to uncover Giles' notes." He sighed. "He could've been more straightforward wit the secret codes, or at least improve his penmanship. Still, he's been looking deep into Last Autumn's activities. When we found that connection with Algus and Wick, I've been trying to find anything Giles might've recorded."

Sid sighed. "Man, you and the others are doing big important things, even Giles. I feel jealous…"

Valentine punched her shoulder playfully. "Hey, you're a Nature Spirit, too."

"The rest of you are super smart, though. Meanwhile, I'm still having trouble learning to read and write."

"You don't know how to read?" Ragger asked with a surprise glare.

"I can, but it's difficult sometimes. I often ask Percival or someone to write up my reports. I tried to write a mission report once, but when Jason asked me why it was taking a week to write up, I just gave up." Sid sighed. "I still don't get why he chose me to become a Nature Spirit."

Valentine patted her shoulder. "Hey, just because you struggle with words doesn't make you any less important. If anything, Jason chose you because you're the most good-natured out of all of us. That's just as important as being smart."

"You sure?"

"Who doesn't enjoy your optimistic attitude?"

"What about you?"

"I'm a snarky bastard, doesn't count."

Sid giggled. "Well, I guess that helps."

"And you are pretty strong, so of course Jason chose you to join the Nature Spirits."

"Heh, thanks." Sid hugged Rusty closer to her chest. "That…means a lot."

Ragger looked down at Sid curiously. "I'm guessing you were an orphan."

Sid nodded. "It was just Rusty and me. Times were tough, but at least we had each other to talk to." She pressed Rusty up to her cheek. "He made the worst days all the more tolerable."

Ragger frowned, then looked ahead. "Yeah. I…can't imagine not having someone to keep you company on your worst days."

Sid touched his arm. "You okay, Ragger?"

He shrugged her claws off. "Yeah, yeah, don't get mushy with me."

Sid smiled. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always available."

"Uh…sure, I guess."

Valentine smirked. "Annnnd, you're tied with Blitz as the most sympathetic Nature Spirit."

Sid punched his shoulder. "Shut up, you." They both giggled to themselves.

Ragger blinked at them, then turned away to hide his smile. Wouldn't have mind having weirdos like them for company back then. He inwardly groaned. Great, now I'm starting to sound mushy. I hate being sober. He rummaged into his bag for his alcohol stash.

Valentine suddenly stopped and held his arm out in front of the other two. "Wait. Look up ahead." He pointed ahead, where they could see a rundown carriage parked out in front of them, which was strapped to a Scolipede. They saw two figures outside the carriage, gesturing frantically with each other.

Ragger squinted. "So, friendlies or punching bags?"

Valentine shrugged. "They look more like travelers."

"Should we see if they need any help?" Sid wondered.

"It's none of our business."

Sid smirked. "Hey, you're the one who pointed it out."

"I said they look like travelers. Doesn't mean they definitely are."

"Well, even so, those two look like they're arguing. Might as well see what the commotion is about." Sid trudged ahead.

Valentine rolled his swirly eyes and grinned at Ragger. "Like I said, she's the soft-hearted one of the Nature Spirits." He shrugged and waved Ragger along. "No use standing around." He and Ragger followed after Sid.

As they drew closer, they could make out the travelers better. One was a female Aipom in a ragged green dress and fur hat with a long-barreled firearm strapped to her back. The other was a female Linoone wearing a red cloak and tunic underneath. They both held a map between them and were frantically jabbing into the paper while pointing all around themselves.

"I'm telling you, Copper Gorge is in that direction!" the Aipom insisted.

The Linoone rolled her eyes. "And I'm telling you that you couldn't read a map to save your life. Copper Gorge is over here. We've been traveling north this whole time, not east."

"I can read a map just fine!"

"You can't even read your own shoddy handwriting, much less directions!" The Linoone crossed her arms and glared at the Scolipede. "You with me on this one, Magni?"

"I…know not," he mumbled stoically before looking away.

"Bah! You're no help!"

The Aipom shoved the Linoone to the ground. "We're not getting anywhere with you being stubborn!"

The Foresters stopped and watched in awe as the Linoone rose to her feet, only she wasn't a Linoone anymore, but an annoyed Flareon. "I just needed a ride to the Wick Kingdom's prison in the outlands! I'm generously offering my assistance so you can find Caractacus, because we both know you can't read a map."

"You wanted me to pay you!"

"I don't read maps for free, especially to the stupid. Boop," she ended with a nose boop to the monkey's face.

The Aipom snarled. "Sometimes I wonder why Evelot puts up with you—"

"JoJo?!"

The girls stopped arguing and turned to the dumbfounded Foresters standing only a couple feet away from them. The red-hooded Flareon blinked, then grinned excitedly. "Oh hey, it's you guys!" She bounded over to them, wagging her tail and ignoring the Aipom's confused glare. "Fancy seeing you folks all the way out here!"

"Y-Yeah, no kidding," Sidney mumbled, looking the Flareon up and down. "You…are JoJo, right?"

She grinned. "How many Ditto do you know?"

"Hard to say, actually. You're the only confirmed one," Valentine joked.

JoJo shrugged. "Eh, fair enough." She turned to the Aipom, who had one hand clutched around her rifle. "Chill Phoebe, I know these chumps. They're those…other friends of mine."

Phoebe narrowed her eyes, then took her hand off her rifle. "Riiiiight." She crossed her arms. "I should've guessed you made friends with drifters."

JoJo smirked. "I'm friends with dirty rats like you and Evelot, right?"

"Watch it. We held up our end of the bargain, but I'm not hearing any of that shit from your mouth."

JoJo sighed and shrugged. "Fair."

Valentine stepped up and tilted his hood. "Sorry to butt in, but may I ask who I'm in the presence of?"

Phoebe rolled her eyes and curtsied to them. "Phoebe Burkhard, assistant to Evelot Faucher, founder of the Broken Glass Alchemical Company. The big guy tugging us is Magni." The Scolipede nodded to the Foresters. Phoebe knocked on the carriage. "And we've got another shifty fellow hiding out inside. Doubt he'll want to talk any of you. He hates just about everyone…and sunlight. Really hates sunlight."

"Uh huh." Valentine reached his hand out. "Well, nice to meet you."

Phoebe reciprocated and shook his hand. "Likewise."

"So, what's two feisty ladies like you doing all the way out here?"

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "None of your concern unless you know where Copper Gorge is. Or if you know a fellow named Caractacus MacGyver."

"MacGyver," Sid mumbled to herself. "Feel like I've heard that name before…"

"Let me take a look." Valentine snatched their map and looked it over. He paced around, gazing up at the sky a couple times, then nodded to himself. "Yep. If you keep going this way, you'll never reach Copper Gorge. You're heading north." He pointed to the right of the carriage. "With a bit of course correction, you'll want to go down that way to reach Copper Gorge. I'd recommend trying to find the main road first."

JoJo leaned over to Phoebe with a huge smirk. "Told you~!" Phoebe shoved the shapeshifter away. JoJo shook herself, then asked, "So, what are you three doing in the outlands? Super secret mission I shouldn't know about?"

Sid shook her head. "Not secretive, but definitely important." She raised her brow. "Actually, you might know something about it. Weren't you talking about a prison out here?"

JoJo glared. "You're going to the prison in the outlands?"

"Yes."

"Hmm…" JoJo turned to Phoebe. "I think this is where our paths diverge."

Phoebe nodded. "Alright. Try not to get yourself killed, and don't lose Evelot's potion. She works hard to keep the formula secret, and she wouldn't want anyone else getting their mitts on it."

JoJo shook her head. "Relax, I won't let it out of my sight—" The carriage windows opened, and a Mimikyu poked her head out. She had several stitches in her ragged Pikachu costume and wore a blue scarf around the neck.

"Uh, Phoebe? We should get going. Ammo's getting a little restless. I don't think he likes those three." She noticed the Foresters staring at her and ducked behind the window nervously. "Um…h-h-hi?"

Phoebe rolled her eyes and grabbed the door handle. "Alright then. Stay out of trouble, JoJo." She opened the door, where an irritated hiss sounded from inside. "Don't be dramatic! You're the idiot who won't keep his shades on!"

"They're uncomfortable to wear, bitch!" a male voice retorted.

"Whatever." Phoebe closed the door behind her and poked her head out the window. "Magni, you got all the Spinda's directions, right?" The Scolipede nodded. "Then get a move on!" She closed the window.

Magni huffed through his nostrils and started riding away, steadily picking up speed before he went soaring through the snow. Valentine, Sid, and Ragger raised their arms as a wave of snow sloshed into them.

Ragger narrowed his eyes. "They seemed…dysfunctional."

"Reminds me of my childhood," Valentine commented with a smile.

JoJo laughed. "Yeah, they're a bunch of idiots, but I love them!" She sighed, sat down on her haunches, and crossed her forelegs. "Alright, what's the sitch?"

After a lengthy explanation summarized to her, JoJo nodded to herself. "So, I see our goals are aligned. How fortunate for us to run into each other at a time like this."

"What exactly were you doing all the way out in the outlands?" Sid asked.

Valentine shrugged. "Eh, I'm sure it'll be explained in a potential spin-off."

JoJo rolled her eyes. "Well, to answer anyway, Pandora contracted me to find some special supplies for her latest pet project. That Mimikyu you saw, Evelot, is a talented alchemist in the outlands. She perfected a special formula and technique that can permanently bind a Pokémon's elemental energy to elementium."

Sid's eyes widened. "No way! That's…incredible!"

JoJo nodded. "Though, she refuses to hand out the recipe. That's actually why she has to keep her business running in the outlands. Some folks tried to snatch it from her, so she booked it all the way out here where no one could find her—except for me, at least. Weaseled a confession out of her in no time."

Ragger crossed his arms. "So, for example, if you were to transfer electrical energy into something like a gauntlet—"

"It'd be permanently electrified." JoJo tapped her chin. "Well, maybe not permanently for obvious reasons, but it would be sealed away until acted on. You didn't hear this from me, but she managed to create a knife that emits heat constantly without melting the blade."

Valentine rubbed his chin. "Huh, Shade would probably like to meet her."

Sid raised Rusty to her ear. "Hmm? Uh huh…oh yeah, you're right." She turned to JoJo and asked, "If you came all the way out here for the formula, why do you need to go to the prison stationed out here?"

JoJo, with a big grin, transformed into a Buneary. "Not sure if you're aware, but this particular prison was built over an underground mine. Rumors say there's a massive deposit of elementium that the warden sells off in chunks across Virdis. Do you know how much a supply of elementium like that would cost you these days? It may be everywhere, but actually finding solid chunks could make you millions overnight!"

"So, why keep it secret?" Valentine asked.

"Free labor and personal gains. As long as no one knows about how the warden's exploiting the convicts and funneling the money for himself, it's just a normal prison doing normal prison activities."

Sid glared. "Does the Tetrarch family even know about this?"

JoJo shrugged. "Hard to say. They would have to know the prison exists, but I couldn't tell you if they knew about the elementium deposit."

Valentine stroked his chin. "I wonder what the warden could be using all that money for. It would seem a bit strange for a prison warden to suddenly have wealth on par with a nobleman, outside of an inheritance, at least."

JoJo stretched her arms. "Getting back on track, I'm here because Pandora also contracted me to grab as much elementium as I can. This is the only place I know that should have large enough deposits to make her fancy new weapon, along with a little extra to tide her and myself over. She gets a quality product, I get paid. Everyone's happy."

Sid grimaced. "Everyone but us. When we found out about the prison, we realized we may have sabotaged our only lead to uncovering Last Autumn's scheme. Althalos may be the only creature we know who has any relevant information on their organization, maybe even their leader."

Valentine nodded. "He was desperate to get rid of us the last time we clashed. He seemed worried about his captured crew. We may be singlehandedly responsible for sending them to their deaths."

JoJo raised her brow. "I mean, not a total loss. One of them was already on death row, right?"

"That's not the point and you know it."

She snickered. "True, true." She glared over her shoulder. "Listen, the prison should be a day from our current location. I can't guarantee everything's peachy, but maybe there's some good news waiting for you there."

Valentine glared. "It's all we got. Hurry up, team. We've got ground to cover." He took the lead with the others quickly following behind.

Ragger paced alongside JoJo and looked down at her. "So, you're the shapeshifting chick who joined the Foresters a few months back."

JoJo smirked. "Sorry I don't stay around enough to chat. Business, business, business. Am I right?"

He smirked back. "I came from a family of merchants, so I get the idea." He glared up ahead. "Though, that part of my life is deep in the back of my mind."

"I doubt you'd be telling me this unless you wanted something out of me."

"You've traveled all over the place, right?"

"Pretty much." JoJo shook her head and laughed. "As if a stupid war will stop me from making money. What are they going to do? Blow me up? HA! Laughable!"

"Uh huh." Ragger scratched his head. "Know anything about slave trade?"

"Buddy, I sell a lot of garbage, but I don't dabble in that kind of trash work."

He rolled his eyes. "I mean, do you know anything about slave traders?"

JoJo shrugged. "For the right price, I could scrounge up some useful information for you. The black market houses secrets to everything." She smirked. "Better yet, maybe I can take you down there some time. It'd save us both the trouble."

Ragger glared. "You can really get me into the black market to find the information I need?"

"You'd be surprised what any scumbag would trade up for a few copper pieces here and there. Anyone who's dealt in the devil's realm can give you what you want."

"…" A crazed smile stretched over the Hakamo-o's maw. "We'll talk business later." He pulled a bottle of whiskey from his bag and downed the concoction down.

JoJo threw her head back and laughed. "You're speaking my language, Scales!"

"Hmm…" Shale zoomed in with her telescope to get a clearer look of the trio, now a quartet. She and Casimir kept their distance, lying flat in the snow as they watched their targets marching on ahead. "Seems they picked up a friend."

"Who?" Casimir mumbled.

"I thought it was a Flareon for a moment, but it looks like they're a Buneary instead."

"…Okay, I know you said that starburst shape in your irises doesn't affect your vision, but do I need to drag you to an eye doctor?"

Shale rolled her eyes, which turned red and yellow, and looked briefly irritated. "Hush. Shale's spying." She looked back through her telescope and stuck her tongue out as she focused in. "Hmm, a shapeshifter in a red cloak. That sounds familiar…"

"What do you mean?"

Shale put her telescope down and grinned. "Oh, no reason~!"

Casimir groaned. "You're a pain, you know that?"

"Love you, too, Caz." She resumed her spying, zooming in on the party. "Anyway, from the looks of things, we're getting closer to our target. They have to know where those runaway convicts are."

"And if we're lucky, we can bag some high-ranking Foresters, too."

"You want me to deal with Mad World Valentine, right?"

Casimir nodded. "Any one of them, I can take, but I've heard rumors about Mad World's talents. I wouldn't be able to fight him. But I've seen how you fight. You should be able to adapt to him just fine."

"Meh, if you say so. When should we jump them?"

Casimir glared. "Let's leave them be until they reach their destination. If it's somewhere fortified, better to let them take down the defenses before we make our move. After that, we'll go after the convicts first, then worry about bagging a Nature Spirit."

Shale smirked. "You say that, but you seem to have a keen interest in that Hakamo-o."

Casimir's glare softened. His conversation with Ragger remained fresh in his mind, even after the past few days of following them. Did he take pity on Ragger's mission? Perhaps. It was a natural response. He understood the hatred of slave traders better than most. He also knew the unrealistic expectations of a rescue mission. Reality as it was, whoever the scaly dragon was looking for either couldn't be rescued or was beyond saving. He had enough context clues to surmise a plausible target of interest.

Though, that was the Hitmonchan's natural pessimism talking. In their brief clash, he saw Ragger's body move before his mind did. That was a difficult practice to ingrain into someone. He could tell Ragger was not only an experienced fighter, but was trained by a master of combat. If Ragger were a little bit faster, he could've potentially blocked the first punch.

Kind of reminds me of someone…

Casimir shook his head and stood up. "It's nothing."

Shale stood up and closed her telescope. "Oh, that's your answer for everything."

"Do you have a clue where they're going?"

Shale tapped her chin. "Well, if that little Buneary with them is who I think it is…" A big grin stretched over her face. "Ooh! Then I have a pretty good idea where they're going. There's a prison out here in the outlands, part of Wick Kingdom territory."

"You know that Buneary?"

"Well, I know the person, not the face. Last I spoke to her was over a month ago, a little while before we met TG. Point is, she told me there's a prison out here with an elementium deposit. They use the prisoners to mine the stuff out." She rubbed her hands together, giggling giddily. "We can make some sweet moolah if capturing the Foresters don't work out."

"A prison, huh?" Casimir stroked his chin. "That means prison guards and criminals to deal with."

"Yep!"

Casimir glared. "So, they're not just looking for them, but any clues as to where they disappeared to. The Dukes of Buzzard."

"Why go to a prison, though? They should know about the breakout that happened months ago."

"With no sign of them anywhere in Virdis, going back to square one seems like the logical first step." Casimir smirked. "So, we'll have to fight our way through a bunch of incarcerated convicts and prison guards."

Shale shoved her hands inside her pockets and giggled mischievously. "I'm getting all tingling!" She bounced on her toes. "I call beating up the prison guards! I want to taunt them with my best prison guard voice! Ooh, I should start practicing it! Ahem…Back to your cell, maggot! Don't make me get the boot! Heehee!" She marched ahead with a spring in her step.

Casimir rolled his eyes, hiding his smile, and followed after her.

It seemed like fate loved to play its little tricks in settings like this. Perhaps it was due to the familiarity of the tavern, reminding wayward travelers of the comforts of home to take part in a beverage to quench the beast of its thirst. It drew in those seeking shelter and relief from the harsh, harsh world. Or perhaps it was a matter of irony, that such a friendly location could draw out the scum of Virdis under the false pretense of safety before some catastrophe spurred the classic barfight any wayward loner would witness at least once in their lifetime.

Nothing but an ordinary day for the lustrous jackal with no name. But if you asked him, he'd simply reply as…The Ghost.

This strange, shiny Lucario wandered about at his own leisure, never really speaking unless necessary. He shows up, has his fill, then leaves without so much as a presence. He doesn't stand out unless he acts. No one acknowledges him unless he allows it. He doesn't exist unless he speaks.

That remained true even in the lone tavern sitting on the outskirts of the Wick Kingdom. Like any other day, he walked in without a single patron even glancing in his direction and took a seat at the bar counter. He leaned forward with his arms crossed, then raised his hand to the Magmar bartender cleaning glasses.

"Whiskey sour."

The Magmar glanced at the cowboy with a glare, then turned away to grab the ingredients for his drink. As he waited, The Ghost reached inside his coat and pulled out a wanted poster.

The Dukes of Buzzard. A seven-man gang that dealt with underground trade, namely of the alchemical variety. Now, six of them were on the run from every crooked bounty hunter in it for the reward money, including the six The Ghost personally contracted up in the mountains. With an efficient bunch helping him scour Virdis, finding the rest of the Dukes would be a breeze.

The Ghost would be better off hunting them down himself just so he could guarantee results. He cared not for the reward money. It was simply in his nature to carry out his brand of justice.

His last contact informed him of one such criminal matching the Dukes somewhere in this general area. He hadn't caught sight of any of them yet, thus he must recuperate in the information haven of the taverns to replenish his resources.

It was, after all, his justice.

"One whiskey sour." The Ghost lifted the brim of his hat as the Magmar bartender set his drink down in front of him. The Ghost threw some bits onto the counter and picked his drink up, swirling the liquid around as he stared into his reflection. The bartender picked up a glass and started cleaning it. "You look like a stranger on a mission. Care to spin a yarn for me?"

The Ghost sipped his drink and sighed. "The blazing hot sun matched only by the cool blanket of death's frozen tears brings me to the full circle of life. I seek not triviality, but my justice to be enacted. To one whose seven flee in vain. One returns to the dirt, six blossoms in a blizzard's lament. Thus, I come to this establishment to speak of this mysterious garden, to pluck the petals until the stems are snipped."

The bartender blinked slowly at the cowboy. "I…what?"

"The blazing hot sun matched only by—"

"Y-Yeah, I got that much!" He set the glass down and leaned forward on the counter. "Could you repeat all that?"

"The blazing hot—"

"Without the poetry!"

"I came here to find information on six convicts."

"Why didn't you just say so?!"

"I did."

The bartender's eye twitched. "Mind…being specific, then?"

The Ghost handed him the wanted poster, then sipped his drink. "The Dukes of Buzzard. Word is they broke out of prison. They're last known sighting was somewhere in this town."

Magmar held the poster up and skimmed the pictures. "Is that so? Well, you're not the only one asking around about these six. A few small town bounty hunters are after that reward money. You've got some stiff competition."

"Though I do enjoy sport, I seek only justice. To take hold by my gun and pierce the cloud of evil so that I may see the dawn of yesterday envelop what could be."

"…Sure." He handed the jackal his poster back. "Anyway, like I told everyone else, I haven't seen the Dukes of Buzzard around these parts."

"Small groups?"

"Nothing like that. Though, I imagine they wouldn't be traveling in one pack if they were trying to lay low. Still, if someone did report their sighting here, perhaps it was for resources. Being on the lam does come with the trouble of maintaining a food supply."

"The markets," The Ghost surmised, stroking his chin. "The bountiful gardens of commerce, attracting the wary for promise of nature's harvest."

"Whatever you say, stranger. Point is, I can't say for certain whether or not those guys are still hanging around here."

"Oh, they're definitely still around!" An Abomasnow marched up to the counter and set his heavy hand down on The Ghost's shoulder. The Ghost saw frost forming over his coat. "My gang and I have some pretty solid information on the whereabouts of those troublesome crooks. We should have them bagged by tomorrow. HAHA!"

A Liepard slinked up around The Ghost and snatched his drink from his hands. "Sorry to interfere, stranger, but that bounty is ours. So sorry you came all this way for nothing." She pressed the glass against his cheek teasingly. His stoic expression remained static. He didn't even turn his eyes away from the counter.

A Passimian joined his other side and poked his cheek. "Uh, boss? I don't think he heard you."

Abomasnow leaned down next to the jackal's face, exhaling his forestry, cold breath into his unchanging expression. "Shy, stranger? Don't beat yourself up over it. There's plenty of bounties for you to rake in."

The Ghost reached into his jacket and pulled out a piece of wheat. He bit down and held it between his teeth, then calmly took his glass back from the Liepard. "To walk the path of redemption, a man must pave the streets in cobalt before he can begin square dancing into the great beyond. I am no such man, though, and seek only to bring my brand of justice to this world."

The trio looked at each other strangely. "Does anyone know what the hell he said?" Abomasnow asked. They just shrugged at him. Abomasnow grabbed The Ghost by the collar of his jacket. "You trying to start shit, stranger?"

"All creatures start something, whether it be conflict or expelling bodily waste. We choose our fates, but a true man decides fate. Who walks upon the ground, and who kneels before the waste itself?"

"Did you just call me shit?!" Abomasnow snapped.

"The greatest honor is a duel between two men. Two guns, one survivor."

"If you want to fight, say it to my—" Abomasnow stopped as something rustled past his legs. He and his crew looked down just as a tumbleweed rolled along on its windless current. "…Where in the hell did that come—"

Click!

His eyes widened as The Ghost bent his arm back and pressed a gun against his chest. A silvery light shined from inside the barrel, building in illumination.

"Unfortunately for you, I have no honor to spare."

A beam of light shot out and pierced through the Abomasnow's chest. The force took him by surprise as he was thrown off his feet and crash landed atop a table, scattering cards and poker chips onto the floor.

Liepard and Passimian immediately jumped away from the shiny Lucario as he rose from his seat. The gun he used dulled in color before crumbling out of his hand. He brushed the metallic flakes onto his jacket, then sipped his whiskey sour. The tumbleweed passed by his feet, bouncing listlessly to a dead wind.

Abomasnow croaked for air, barely hanging onto consciousness. He tried to push himself up, but collapsed as a geyser of blood squirted from his chest. "Get…him!" he growled.

Liepard and Passimian glared, pulling out their claws and seed shell, respectively. The Ghost sipped on his drink and stared at them with those fixed eyes. While he remained cool, they had murder in their eyes.

"You'll pay for that, you jerk!" Liepard snarled.

The Ghost nodded. "Yes. It was a fine table." He turned to the cowering bartender. "I'm terribly sorry about that. Allow me to—"

"Don't play cute with us, dastard!" Passimian huffed. "It's two on one, and we've bagged the toughest scum in all of Virdis! We've conquered the devils of the outlands and lived to celebrate! Some no-name like you doesn't stand a chance!"

The Ghost sipped his drink, then nodded. "A no-name, I am. I praise you for your accomplishments. I assume you have loved ones, perhaps people who praise you for your service."

"Y-Yeah! So what?" Liepard snapped.

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear. That means, in some small way, you will continue to live on…as a memory."

The Ghost threw his drink into the air. Liepard and Passimian went on the attack, but they would never reach their victory. The world around The Ghost slowed to a crawl, barely a hint of movement as the two bounty hunters inched a little closer in their eternal stride.

The Ghost rolled his neck, working out the kinks and aches, then moved. A trail of black and yellow glistening with sparkles followed behind the Lucario as he approached the Liepard first. He delivered five quick, but hard punches to her ribcage, then chopped her in the back of the neck. He went up to the Passimian next and simply punched him in the face. He disarmed him of his hard berry and tossed it aside.

He returned to his previous position and held his hand out to where his drink would fall.

Extreme Speed.

Liepard went spinning through the air and faceplanted into the floor, feeling her rib crush beneath her chest. Passimian stumbled back and collapsed over a table, covering his bloody nose.

As for the whiskey sour, it came down near The Ghost's hand and…grazed his fingers as it smashed onto the floor.

He paid the drink no mind and walked up to the Liepard as she tried to pick herself up. She snarled through heavy breaths. "What…did you—" She froze as he grabbed her head. "Wait, what are you—"

Passimian barely recovered in time to hear a sickly snap near him. He turned and screamed as Liepard collapsed lifelessly onto the floor. "NO!" He grabbed a bottle off the floor and smashed the bottom off. He stood up and brandished his glass shiv at the approaching jackal. "Stay back! Stay back, or I'll—GLAGH!"

He dropped the bottle and stared in horror at the gun being shoved into his mouth. Fearful eyes stared up at the cold, emotionless Lucario's. His eyes shrank as he saw the silvery light shining from inside his mouth.

Over with Abomasnow, he could barely stay awake as the blood loss steadily made him lightheaded. All of a sudden, he heard a familiar bang, followed by patrons screaming and rushing out the door. He glanced to his left and saw a few folks tripping over themselves to get to the door. Bottles and tankards smashed open onto the floor.

Then, he looked up to the eyes of the shiny Lucario, tossing away the crumbling gun in his hand. He stepped on Abomasnow's chest wound, causing him to writhe with pain.

"Now…" The Ghost pulled another gun from his jacket and waved it over Abomasnow's face. "You mentioned something about…information on the Dukes of Buzzard?"