Rogue Huntsman

Midnight

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"Yo, Ezdeil, how long you keeping the place open for tonight?" someone called out, an empty glass soon sliding across the surface into my hand to quickly refill.

"Another hour and a half, give or take," I replied, tapping the full glass and sending it back down the polished wooden surface of the bar's counter before tending to other patrons.

Official hours for the bar have been set aside for the time being, considering Beacon's draining me of hours I could be using to run the establishment.

Instead, I have to stick to a tentative schedule of opening the Black Stallion whenever the hell I feel like it.

They still come.

Somehow.

Like they can sense when the damn place unlocks its door.

But that's not unheard of in this sector of Vale, given how quickly information spreads from an epicenter like this. It's home-turf to a lot of info-brokers after all.

Anoel's always had her work cut out for her, running Sanus's information network like this.

And despite the bar approaching its hour before closing, it was still as busy as it could accommodate. It created a needed atmosphere to cleanse my mind from Beacon's festering poisonous air, nothing but toxins bundled together in a sea of blurry colors.

I didn't have to think of a place like that while I was here, at-

Something dark suddenly blanketed the patrons by the door, seeping in through the glass in a hazy mist before dissipating entirely.

Great… and here I thought I could get away from Beacon for a while.

The darkness of the night outside deepened as the door opened, a figure immersed in a bristling darkness stepping through before the shadow melted away from his physical, invisible energy.

It was the white-haired prince of estrogen fandoms across the globe himself.

With any luck, he was only here to stab someone, but knowing my luck, he was here to throw lien at me until I gave him what he wanted.

A hangover.

"Hey, three more rounds over here, same drinks as before!"

Another order came in from someone to my right, tearing my eyes away from the door and to one of my patrons leaning against the corner of the bar. The rest of his party sat bustling together along a couple of the booths behind him.

For a brief second, I actually had to take a moment to recall what he ordered before.

But only a brief one.

Ignoring the sack of tainted bones by the door, I made my way back to the drinks beneath the bar and the shelves behind me and started mixing an assortment of rounds at the man's request.

23 were done within a few seconds, all already on their way to their tables at the back through the aura-based system I had set up across the ceiling. Inside the shadows of the roof were shining beams of solidified green light and polygonal crystal manifestations, all doing the work for me with only a simple passing thought.

"Thanks man, you're the best!"

I let the patron get back to his party, sliding himself back into his booth just as another patron tripped out of the booth opposite his and lost his pants.

He seemed to be unconscious… and no longer breathing.

He'll probably be fine.

My eyes finally turned back toward the door, lungs tensing to see Dante had moved from his position at the entrance.

Damn, he didn't leave.

I ignored the invisible black smoke drifting across the floor of the room, cutting it out of my immediate senses and burning it away with my own aura across the floorboards. The shifting waves of shadow billowed out at a slow rate from the bar's furthest stool, at the bend closest to the door.

Looked like I actually had to somewhat acknowledge his existence… if even that.

I guess I had to put up with him for the next hour and a half.

"Want something?" I asked, eventually turning toward the last thing I wanted to stumble across tonight.

He looked shocked… a processing stare leveled at me from his stool.

I'll show you shocking, let me throw on a pink shirt and grow a few leprechauns in the backyard. Contrary to what he probably believed, I don't punt kittens for a living. I own a bar. Big shocker.

"Oh. Well… Shit. Hi?" his mouth moved but his eyes remained fix in a wide-gazed stupor.

And here I was thinking his mind worked faster than his mouth.

Spoken like a true master of motivational speaking too, if he was a squirrel high on Dust-laced nuts, "Name a drink, I have it. Pay the lien, and you can drink it. No formalities needed."

"You work here?" he asked, leaning forward for a moment in his seat, trying to get a closer look.

I wasn't a Wonder of the World, asshole. I'm Niro.

"I'm the owner," I replied simply, keeping my voice from dipping as low as it usually would with him. This place was sacred.

Keep your claws off my old man's establishment.

"Heh… That's pretty cool. How'd you come by it?"

"Inheritance."

It played into the literal sole reason why I'm even at an infested little cliffside like Beacon Academy.

"Family business? I mean, Black Stallion. Kinda works with your whole…" he said, motioning his hand in circles towards me before eventually saying, "thing."

He can't even find the right words to finish his own sentence.

"My father named it. I run it now."

Dante blinked for a moment before lowering his hand, "His time to retire?"

"Wasn't his choice. What do you want to drink? I can serve you anything, mix you anything, even enough to kill you if you give me the lien for it," I explained, carefully cleaning a glass in my hands before putting it away.

"Oh? That so...?" he watched my movements with an intrigued eye before humming, "What's your top five best?"

"One of the strongest percentages of alcohol content I have is a mixture of concentrated acolyte and hard whiskey, finished off with a dash of aura-stimulant. It's on the top list," I nodded my hat up to the menu board of drinks shining across the top of my bar behind me, "among the rest of the forbidden items. All of their contents are listed."

"Leading with no-fly list items? A game of chicken right off the bat?" Dante smiled, "You interest me."

I interest him… "I punched you. You didn't die. You can take a few of my drinks standing, no problem."

Unfortunately.

"What? A first even for you? Actually, no, I can see that. That could have killed someone. Or horribly disfigured someone's body. And internal organs. And definitely the bones."

"If they have aura, it usually just shatters that shell and erases their arm, taking half their body with it. You took it with just your hand, despite having more aura in you than the majority of the school," I returned.

Nobody deserved to be hit by a strike like that. The few who did, despite them committing some of the most atrocious, inhumane atrocities in their lifetimes, died in an instant with half their body ripped away.

It was a brutal way to go out.

Dante was right, though, with what he said.

He was the first to deserve it.

"Whoa… That's pretty cool. I mean, not cool for the person on the receiving end, but man, what a picture," he commented, eyes likely painting the image into his mind.

"I'm beginning to think you're not actually thirsty…" I muttered.

"Nope, I am," Dante replied, giving a short hand-gesture with his hand as he returned his attention to me, "Just kinda sorta making small talk in between."

"There is no in-between when you don't have a drink to start with."

I felt someone glance my way so I turned and caught the called out order of another patron by the dartboards, taking a moment to fix up a quick drink and place it on the bar.

The polygons in the ceiling quickly solidified and crystallized, branching down to take the drink in a quick transfer system to the one who wanted it.

Keeps me from hiring people to deliver drinks when it's unneeded. That, and I didn't trust patrons walking around with my alcohol coursing through their bloodstreams.

Not with a glass in their hands, and especially not when they were all armed.

"Starting with the hard beverages? Or do you actually want to work your way up," I asked absently, trying to keep myself detracted from the raw eminence of breeding irritation every time I looked at his face.

"Is that even a question?" he asked rhetorically, planting his hand down, "Hard drinks."

"Rectified Sin it is," I replied, assuming he wanted the third strongest on the list.

It was a highly concentrated blend of ethanol, purified through repeated distillations. Essentially just a long process of rectification, one of the few things I have the patience for.

"96.6% ABV. I'll give you a pint," I stated before cleaning, cooling, then sliding him a full glass of Rectified Sin.

"Hehaha! Sweet!"

I wonder if that'll kill him… It's in the danger zone for anyone over the age of "alive".

Then in a swift display of insatiable thirst, he downed the pint in seven seconds, chugging like a fish. As soon as he finished polishing the drink off, he lowered it and shuddered with a satisfied, shaken hubph-ph.

That was the last time I'd ever waste the mental energy to internally describe the incoherent sound he just made.

"Whoahoho! I like it!" Dante exclaimed in an intake and outtake of fresh air.

It didn't kill him.

A blissful smile sat leisurely on his face before he lifted his glass and threw it downward, "Another!"

That little shit. The floor of the impact zone quickly erupted in a small cluster of fragile polygons, ready to catch the glass as soon as it landed… Only for him to catch it himself with a smug smile on his face.

"Ah! Got you!"

My eyes only narrowed, "Do it again and I'll get you a sippy cup," I replied, letting my aura melt back into the floorboards.

"Lighten up chuckle brother. I wouldn't have actually done it," he responded, bringing the glass back up and placing it on the bar's surface, "Consider me making you tense up a bit of payback for the punch. I have a twisted sense of humor at times."

That's not the only thing twisted about you.

Instead of refilling his glass, I slid him the full bottle of Rectified Sin, "If you want more, just pour it yourself. Just keep a tab on how much lien you're drinking."

"Oh yes. Here we go!" He delved right in.

I was still hoping the next two drinks up would kill him after this one was done. They were all the most expensive as well, given the usually high probability of certain death.

The contracts that a patron would need to sign are both plastered up next to the list itself and resting in a stack beneath the counter.

But just for Dante… he didn't need to sign his own contract to ensure it wasn't the bar's fault for his death.

Iwanted to kill him.

The next drinks up were the equivalent death probability of chugging down a keg of Dust-imbued cyanide.

Knowing my luck, though, all it'll result with is exactly what I assumed earlier. Him throwing lien at me while I gave him what he wanted.

Profits are going to spike tonight.

"That had some kick to it. Damn…" he said, pounding his chest twice while sliding aside the empty bottle, "What else you got for me?"

"Next one on the list is Devil's Mistress, which is the mixture of acolyte and whiskey I mentioned," I stated, drawing out a new glass and mixing up the second strongest drink I had listed.

Once that settled, I added the splash of aura-stimulant and let it cloud into the glowing, golden hue of the beverage's contents.

Aura-stimulants had been banned from consumer use since the war, considering how many soldiers overdosed on the battlefield after going berserk. It was developed in Atlas for their front-line brigades, but now, it was regulated by the Kingdoms and restricted to medical fields only, allowing a few exceptions.

It was applicable to be used by licensed bar owners.

Its main function was to enhance the chemical attributes of what it mixed with. Like Aura. And given Aura's passive healing factor, it made recovering for huntsmen all the more efficient inside a kingdom with medical centers.

I planted that down in front of Dante, a soft, shining light bristling out from between the clinking ice cubes I usually add to change the taste of the overall drink as they melt down.

Instead of the usual ice cubes though.

Just for Dante.

I froze pure ethanol for him.

"Sweet suffering succotash it glows…" he rattled off while staring intently at the clinking amber liquid, "Why the Aura though?"

"It adds the glow, but it also strengthens the alcohol concentration by acting as its catalyst. It has an attribute that draws out energy within a substance," I explained, letting the ice melt a little, "Whether it be inside our bodies or inside a pool of liquid."

"Alright alright…"

He brought up both hands and rapidly slapped the sides of his jaw, then took the drink up and downed it like the last one.

He let out another satisfied, incomprehensible shudder of enjoyment before twirling the glass and letting it revolve for a moment atop his palm, "Not gonna lie, that was brilliant. What's the most popular drink in here that won't kill someone?" he asked, gnawing on the ice cubes quickly one after another.

Remember that squirrel high on Dust-laced nuts? Yeah… if only I could deforest his home.

"Most popular is a drink called Liya, a mixture of whiskey, bourbon, and water. Served with ice."

"And which majority likes that one more? Girls or guys?"

"Both. It's popular due to it being a socializing drink that looks appetizing, but it retains a kick to it that patrons enjoy," I replied, crossing my arms behind my bar as Dante chewed through the solid ice cubes from his glass.

I wondered if he inhaled them too fast to notice they weren't even water.

"I'll keep that in mind if ever I bring a date sometime."

Don't forget to bury their body when you're done with them.

"Your tab's racking up. Do you have the lien for all this?" I asked, though, I wasn't at all curious. I was pulling a page out of Anoel's book.

This kid had lien, if his car was anything to go by. And knowing his irritating strife to be a part of this world, he probably has a strong income alongside that.

"Uh… Let's see… How much are we at?"

"Considering the drinks you've had so far were among the most expensive, due to the certainty of death factor, you've racked up enough to cover half a pound of Atlesian silver plus a Mistrian Cigar collection."

"Exact numbers man."

"About 27,000 lien," I glanced back to him and gave him a quick summation.

His eyes widened at the number, "That much?"

"The high price is to dissuade patrons from drinking to their death."

"Ah right right…" he seemed to understand, "Cool then."

Dante slid 8 lien cards my way without hesitation, so I took those and dropped them into the pile of the rest of today's earnings.

Nobody would steal from the bar. Cops don't even go near it on foot, so locking the lien up was pointless.

"And that was just two of five. Three left I guess. What else you got that's capable of killing a man?"

"A six-shot revolver and a stash of D4 in the back," I returned, but I turned back to the board for a moment and nodded up to the list again, then tended to a few quick rounds of drinks for patrons down the line of the bar, "Just read off a name, I'll tell you about it."

"Oh! What about… Cynthian Ale! What's up with that one?"

"It's not your traditional ale. The water and herbs used to brew it are from a small village southwest of the kingdom, grown under unusual circumstances due to the spring water there. It's fifth on the list but still strong. It's popular among veteran drinkers."

"Popular and strong, huh…? Alright, let's give this one a go. I'll take three."

The three pints were already poured, foaming down the sides of the glasses as I planted them in front of Dante, a dark, crimson red hue of color shining through the drinks.

"Crap man… I keep forgetting how fast you are," he said, working on the first pint.

It wasn't a surprise to see him finish off all three with ease.

"Next one up?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, totally. Got to hand it to you though, good touch with the sweetness. Really thirst quenching too. Did you come up with everything?"

"Not that one. I import that from the village of Cynthia itself. They're the ones to brew it. I create the majority of the rest of the drinks, if I don't collect them from exterior sources."

"So how do you go about getting barrels?" he asked, sliding the three empty pints to the side, "Payment? Trade off's of sorts?"

"The village is well-off, but they lack protection. I supply that in return for the products of their brewery."

"Mmmm. Like the barrier we put up near the eastern mountains outside of Vale. Well, on the mountain to be more specific. Mountain village."

I already heard enough of his associated estate from Anoel, I didn't need to hear it again, "Cynthia's barrier is similar to the field I put up around Beacon's outer forests. The invisible array of strands that allow those with aura, and creatures without, to pass through."

"Like shredding paper. Fun. Ours just incinerates things entirely. Actually, on that, you do odd jobs besides running this place? I mean, if you go out that far, you must, right?"

I leave the incineration to Anoel. That was her realm.

"None that would interest you."

"Afraid I'll snatch a job from you?"

"I don't take jobs out there for lien. I take them for sourcing my business here at the bar. If you're looking for work that'll earn you lien, try asking around the information network."

They'll direct you to the nearest place to donate your organs after selling your soul to a nine-year-old with a chain-scythe.

"Noted. So then… next would be… Dark Laerze? What's that?"

"Dark Laerze," I restated, titling the name of the next drink on the list, "Sourced from Vacuo, made from sugar cane and dark-roasted cocoa beans. It's a bitter-sweet drink, but that clash is what puts it on the list."

"Very nice…"

I poured him a single chilled pint for this one, sliding it his way, "95.2% on its own."

"Always up for a challenge," he said, raising the glass. He took his time with this one, "I've only heard tales of beverages that come out of Vacuo. Let's see if they live up to them."

Vacuan alcohol was some of the most distinct across the four kingdoms. Dark Laerze was one of their specialties.

"So you mentioned sourcing business at your bar. Am I correct to assume part of, if not a majority, of the info net in Vale comes through here?"

"It's the focal point, basically a hub for the info-brokers in the kingdom to share information," I returned, setting the empty pints that have been piling up down onto my side of the bar.

"And you'd clearly know of things going in and out of here. 'People', to be more precise."

"I head the bar here," I replied simply, nodding to the rest of the room with a slight tip of my black hat, "Their business is their own, I'm just the median. It's Anoel's job to handle the information. That being said, nothing is uttered in here without me hearing it."

My eyes returned to Dante, seeing him slide his current pint around. He was hesitant about where this was leading.

"What do you know about a huntsman garbed in midnight blue?"

The last syllable of his words was met with a resounding silence settling over the rest of the bar. Each patron on either side of Dante suddenly scooted their stools away from him, as if his very presence was suddenly an invitation for death.

They weren't wrong if they thought that.

The rest of the establishment just stopped what they were doing and stared.

"The Midnight Huntsman has been brought up a few times in here, but only rumors. The name alone is a hefty weight to know, let alone speak freely," I said, crossing my arms as the attention shifted in the room, "He kill someone you know?"

"No. I went out on a task Ozpin sent me out on concerning a village with supernatural happenings and occurrences. I dealt with the problem, but the villagers tipped me off to a village with potentially the same problem. So I headed on over."

He was the white swordsman drifting about in name, then, the one that saved the village. Anoel heard about that incident today when she was in here earlier, but identification of the figures involved was unknown.

It was all resolved in the past 24 hours.

"Fire and ashes were all I found. That… and him. Before I even had the chance to ask him his business, he shot a woman that was trying to escape. Didn't take too kindly to that so I decided to engage him. Whoever he is… he's good. Real good. I think he shot me? Can't seem to recall…"

"Information about him is impossible to come by due to either all witnesses being killed or, for the few who actually survive an encounter, the sudden phenomenon of that information slipping from their conscious grasps. He's a shadow, whatever's known about him has only ever been the end-results he leaves behind in his wake."

"How long has he been around? If one were to guess at least..."

"15 years. He didn't exist in any information network before then," I replied, feeling the initial unease in the bar's occupants slowly dwindle away.

Few began going back to what they were doing, albeit at a quieter volume.

"15 years and no one's caught on to this guy? Unbelievable…"

"Several have died trying, all just adding to his kill count," I said.

"How many by now?" he asked, meeting my eyes, "Hundreds?"

"22,384 dead by his hands."

He seemed shocked almost. Frustrated even.

"That's not right man… That many? And for what exactly?"

"It's unknown. That's why people are either searching for answers or avoiding his name entirely."

"I've run into some real pieces of work… But this? This is a whole new level entirely. Human wise at least. If he's even that."

It wasn't anywhere near as bad as what happened during the earliest years of my childhood, but these murders were at this man's personal hands, not of anyone or anything else's.

It was a kill count he's built up with the intent to do so, but the prospect of him having an ulterior motive is what circulates any real curiosity about the Midnight Huntsman.

Unfortunately, that curiosity was a cursed one.

It often got people killed.

"What's your take on it then? He's obviously up to no good, and that's putting it lightly. So? Thoughts?"

"His intents are his own and what he intends to do is up to him. If you want to stop him, then you're not the first to try. He's set on something. I couldn't care less about what that is unless it directly involved me."

"Heh. You never know. I mean…" He leaned in a bit closer so he could lower his voice in volume, "You aren't exactly normal. If anything, you're a freaking anomaly that very few would like to understand."

"I live under a simple state of mind," I returned, narrowing my eyes beneath the shadow of my cowboy hat, "You take someone else's stuff, I don't care. You take my stuff, I ruin you."

"Simple indeed," Dante replied, tossing a small smile to the side as if he expected that kind of answer, "Not that there's anything wrong with it. Simple is… good. I'm definitely going to keep an eye out for MH from now on. But can I rely on you to send anything my way?"

My luck's been running pretty short lately, but with any of it left, maybe the Midnight Huntsman would kill Dante.

I can only hope for the best.

"If you're looking for the sympathetic kind, you're looking in the wrong place. If there's no association or nothing in it for me, then there's no reason for me to even get involved," I explained coldly, but honestly.

It had nothing to do with me right now.

"Then what would you require from me?"

"Nothing you currently have to offer."

"You'd be surprised with how many unexpected things I can offer."

"Then prove it. Otherwise, it's all of no concern to me." I glanced toward the rest of the bar, my eyes dissuading any lingering onlookers to go back to what they were doing and return to their drinks, "I'd recommend you to leave soon. You spooked the whole establishment."

"Well excuse me for being a nuisance…"

He held back there. He should stop holding his tongue from the things he means to say, rather than what he wants people to hear.

Certain words were left unsaid.

"Let's see then…" he said, narrowing his gaze behind me before that gaze quickly widened, "No… Seriously? I mean, that's not disappointment talking. That's just the bit of surprise in me. That's honestly first on the list?"

He was less observant than I gave him credit for, but I nodded anyway, "Got a problem with that?"

"Not in the slightest. Again, just… wasn't expecting it," he settled back into his stool, and from the looks of it, was going to have one more drink before he left, "I love Saké."

"Anything else?"

"Two cups, if you don't mind."

"As long as you're paying," I returned, two empty glasses already resting before me.

"Oh, I'm paying."

I drew out the one alcohol the bar probably held most highly, then poured Dante two chilled glasses of his request.

Then slid them his way, one of which he slid back toward me.

"You paying me to drink my own alcohol?" I asked, eyeing him as he retracted his hand.

"I can pretty much tell you wouldn't accept a gesture of goodwill from me. At least, not yet. Or possibly ever. Point is, you'd refuse me outright. For now. So until I in some way prove some form of worth or value to you, this will have to do."

"There's only one person on this Remnant I'm actually fond of and respect. Do you really think it'd be feasible to join that person on the list?" I challenged.

"I do. Eventually. As long as the opportunity arises, I'll manage it. You may very well be the chilliest ass I've ever met… but a pretty okay dude overall. And in my own way, I respect and recognize your worth as a person, however much I may know currently."

He knows nothing about what I'm responsible for… what I'm atoning for…

Only she does.

With his words spoken, he slid forward the last of the lien cards he'd pay me tonight and I took his offered drink up into my hand.

He can certainly try.

But I realized one thing after all that.

We were both atoning for our sins.

Disclaimer: Don't make ice cubes out of pure ethanol. It's probably impossible and defeats the purpose of ice cubes in an alcoholic beverage, but Niro happened to do it. Just don't do what Niro did in this chapter. Also, anything above 80% ABV is deadly on its own. So, don't drink that.

On another note, Andy, Hydra, and I all agree that 1 US dollar is equivalent to 100 Lien in the rwby-verse (similar to Yen in Japan).

In case you want to run your own conversions. It's always been pretty unclarified for the show.

The rest of this A/N is an announcement.

WARNING: Longer A/N due to an ANNOUNCEMENT.

As of April 23, 2017, at 12:09 PM – EST – a guest submitted a review on chapter 5 pointing out most of the hints I dropped in regards to Niro's prowess and his Semblance.

"Russian Bias" (would've responded if I could, but they submitted the review as a guest and their name doesn't exist in FFN's search directory) is the first to ever accurately get close to guessing what Niro's capable of and what his Semblance is from the story's content alone.

Huge kudos to them for spotting out what I had out there and putting things together.

However, they only managed to define the basis. There's still a lot left out.

In my opinion, there's a certain novelty to reading RH without the knowledge of what Niro can do. I like the impact of seeing something that he does and not expecting it over trying to expect what he'll do next.

To that regard, people can still guess, but I won't be publically confirming anything. If you're curious, and don't mind losing that novelty, then you can check out Russian Bias's review.

For now, Favorite and Follow.

I look forward to seeing REVIEWS for this. You'll be introduced to a LOT of concepts of mine. Feel free to give me your thoughts.

Cya XP