Goodsprings. She wasn't sure if it was the Devil's idea to make that happen. The last time she visited Goodsprings was installing new securitrons to ensure its safety, despite some of the local's refusals. Trudy and Sunny, however, took a liking to the idea. Especially Chet, since it meant safer business.

That did not mention her donations to Goodsprings, especially to private donations Doc Mitchell. The humble old man didn't like it, saying he only did his job, so instead she cut the donation by a quarter and with more medical supplies.

The smile on his face… the man was too humble. Weapon maintenance had its own cost, but not enough to suck her pay from. Hell, he even offered to take care of her weapons free of charge, she only declined so she had something to spend her caps on.

Six stood outside the town's hospital, her eyes widened. Goodsprings, what a name to wake up to. The town, however, was a fresh change of scenery, the town was nothing like the desert she was used to. The people here were humble, farmers and tradesmen alike.

"It's not much but it's home." Doc Mitchell said. "There are nearby frontier towns we can trade with too."

Lush greeneries, gentle sun, and even a pleasant breeze. The town was so unlike the Mojave. Not to mention people were smiling so much, happily working in cooperation.

"I think it's a wonderful place."

Doc Mitchell smiled proudly.

"It is, it most certainly is."

From the town hall, the markets, and to the dust-fueled generator, she was given the short town of the small frontier town. While it was nothing like Goodsprings, it certainly had a better chance to thrive.

"Hey, doc. Do you know anyone with silver eyes?"

"Silver eyes? Can't say I have. That's a rare color. Is that person your friend?" Doc Mitchell said.

"It's someone important." Six said, it wasn't a lie

Technically.

"I'm sorry to say I don't. Maybe Vale would have some information. Folks from every kingdom come to Beacon to study there. It's the best huntsmen academy there is."

"Huh…got it."

Huntsmen? Kingdom? Six originally planned to leave right away, until she realized she was not in a different state like Washington. She was in a whole new world.

"Hey doc, got any jobs for me?"

It took two weeks to get used to the slow rhythm of Goodsprings. Six was the handyman in the town. Leaky faucets, broken generators, busted radios, and patrolling for grimms became her usual duties in the town. Six had to admit, a slow life like this was ideal. However, she still had a job to finish.

"Howdy, Six."

"Howdy. Did you finish the new utility belt?"

"Sure did," the faunus blacksmith said cheerfully "try it on."

Six tightened the straps of her new belt with a satisfied smile. Pouches, straps, and even a holster.

"How is it?"

"It's perfect. Thank you, Chet." Six said.

"Heading out for a patrol I take it?"

"Sure am, I'll see you later."

"Stay safe now."

Six nodded with a smile. "Always."

Six nodded, as she walked out of the blacksmith's workshop she loaded This Machine. Her hands moved smoothly but her eyes were forward. The children waved and Six waved back. The townspeople, Doc Mitchell, people who she helped too. The satisfied grin was practically glued to her face.

"I got heartaches by the numbers…" Six muttered as she strolled.

The smell of grass, gentle sun, the sounds of the forest. Six took every bit of detail with absolute glee, even after two weeks the patrol in the forest became her favorite part of the day. The boots became less necessary, so was her armor made for the Mojave wasteland. However, the armor still offered protection and the alternative was unfavorable.

"Troubles by the score."

Sunlight caressed her armor, and Six wished she would be in simple clothing. She knew better to ask for something so foolish. The grimms were still dangerous, and some imitated the creatures back in the Mojave. Were they more dangerous than Mojave?

Certainly not.

The Mojave was a cruel place. Remnant so far, was not. Sure there were bandits and grimms, but it was not a God-forsaken wasteland. Far from it.

Snap

Six immediately knelt and aimed. Her muscles tensed up but released her tension with a sigh. The deer's beady eyes stared at her, completely unaware of the danger the deer was in. She'd shoot it, but that meant dragging the catch with her. The deer still stood there… menacingly.

"Creepy deer." Six muttered.

"That's not very nice of you." The deer said.

Six snapped around with a scowl.

"You."

"Hey there, killer." The deer said with the devil's voice. "Enjoying the outdoors?"

"Just tell me what you want."

"Ooh, I thought you'd like the place you woke up to. I thought it was rather symbolic."

She scoffed.

"Yeah, real deep. I'm in awe."

"I see you're in no mood for fun. I suppose having no friends, rather, having dead friends, makes someone a sour puss." The deer's ear flicked. "Maybe you should make new friends here."

Six shot the deer's head. Not a moment later, a pack wolf surrounded her. The largest wolf strolled forward.

"Since you're not open to suggestions, I might as well skip to the point." The wolf licked its paw. "Why are you not looking for your target?"

"Because no one in the town knows about a silver eyed warrior. That, and I needed to learn about the world and I needed money."

"Have you learned what you need to know?"

"More or less." Six said with a shrug.

"Then here."

From nothing, a stack of liens appeared. Six counted, it was more than enough to stay in a hotel and more.

"If you can do that, why not just tell me where the silver eye warrior is?"

The wolves, not controlled by the devil, lounged around, some rested while others played with one another.

"They are my brother's creation, even if I wanted to, he would know. Look for a woman named Salem. She will help you."

"Salem huh? I'll get to it."

The rest of the patrol ended without a problem. In the town, however, an issue arrived. Just as she returned a leather-armored man was speaking with the town's elder, Gordot. From the look of the thug's face, it was not a discussion about the weather. Six weaved through the tense townspeople.

"We won't be asking again, old man. Hand your lien and food to us, or the Morkite is going to kill all of you. So how about you give us what you have from now on and you don't die?"

"We barely have as it is. This is too much demand!" Gordot said weakly. "Maybe-"

"Shut it!"

The thug backhanded the Gordot, and the frail and old man fell. Before she could move a young man ran to help Gordot stand. Only to meet with a swift kick to the gut. The town's militia was that, a militia. Old and young men who had basic training to fight grimms, not humans. Six waited, the thug would get tired. Or so she thought. A good ten seconds later, Six approached without drawing a weapon.

"Hey, the kid had enough." Six said.

"Huh?"

The thug turned around, then he grinned.

"Little girl with a big gun, you know how to handle it? I got a big gun too, baby." The thug smugly smiled with a lecherous gaze. "You don't look like you're from around here."

"Leave him alone. Tell your boss we got the message and will discuss the terms of the negotiation."

"Big words, little girl."

Along with big words, she killed bigger men. Ask Lanius. She ignored the man's rambling and helped them both up. The young man looked down, unable to meet her eyes and muttered a thank you then quickly left with Gordot.

"Unless you're going to bargain in good faith, leave."

"I don't think you know what the deal is. Either you work for us, or die."

The thug sluggishly pulled his handgun and pressed the barrel on Six's forehead. She stared back, looking up at the thug without a hint of change in her gaze. It was brief, but the thug's eye twitched.

"Don't act tough, you think I won't pull the trigger?"

She wanted to kill him. Every fiber of her being wanted to shoot him. Six turned to the town elder with the gun still aimed at her head. If she had a cap for being threatened… well she would have none. People in Mojave did not threaten others, they would just kill them.

"Mr Gordot. May I speak to the Morkite tribe as the town's representative? I'll try to make some kind of deal." Six said calmly.

"No, I won't let you. I'll do it. I'll-"

"Nah." The thug said. "You're not worth the time, old man. I think the chief's gonna like you."

"Tomorrow." Six said.

"Fine then, tomorrow." The thug said.

The thug left. With a calm visage, Six returned to the elder.

"You alright?" Six said.

"I'm so sorry… you shouldn't have to do this."

"It's not a problem Mr Gordot. How about we talk about this somewhere you can rest?"

"Yes… that sounds good."

Six shrugged. Inside the elder's home, Six sat at the table with a cup of tea in her hand along with other important members of the town such as Doc Mitchell and members of the militia. Apparently, tribes were the raiders of Remnant. So naturally, they had to die.

"And who are the Morkite tribes?"

"They're thugs that arrived here three months ago. They threaten us every now and then and take our money and crops." The militia man said.

"What's stopping you from fighting them?"

"We have children with us, it's better to let them take it than to risk the townspeople's lives." Doc Mitchell said.

She forgot about them.

"How many are there?"

"About twenty, all of them came when they first came here." Another militia member said.

"Any notable equipment? Say gas masks, armor, aura?"

"None that I know of."

"Doc wouldn't happen to have rubbing alcohol and are there any vinegar, window cleaners, bleach, plastic tubes, or any chemical materials?"

"We should, but what do you need that for?" The town elder said confusedly.

Six smiled reassuringly.