23rd Winter Moon, 907 – Morning

The Broken Glass Alchemical Company woke up an hour before the sun rose and got a head start packing for the long trip to Copper Gorge. They spent the better half of the morning limping through the wreckage and scrounging up whatever could be recycled into an edible meal or tool.

As for the bounty hunters who survived the pepper brothers' rampage, they tried once more to take revenge on the company, but Phoebe threatened them into standing down the second they showed weakness. She even threatened them to show off their best moves so she could make new bullets out of them. She had a little too much fun getting drunk on power.

Soon, the company joined up at the town entrance where Magni waited strapped to their carriage. Evelot stretched out her costume and enveloped all their newfound supplies, storing them away.

Amos crossed his arms. "You know, a technique like that seems a bit advanced for someone like you to come up with. Where'd you learn to do that?"

Evelot chuckled sheepishly. "It's…something my old bodyguard taught me for convenience."

Amos raised his brow. "You had a bodyguard?"

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "She was the youngest daughter of the most powerful crime lords in the Outlands. Why else would she have one?"

"Must've sucked at his job."

She shrugged. "Yeah, I think he was killed along with everyone else when the hideout was raided. Still, he saved Evelot's life, so I can't complain too much."

"…" Evelot looked off to the side.

"Hmm? Something wrong, Eve?"

"Um…well, it's just…last night, I thought I heard…" She shook her head. "Never mind, it's nothing. It's been a stressful night for all of us. Best we head out on the road as soon as possible. We don't want to run into any more bounty hunters out here."

Phoebe smirked. "Speak for yourself, I got a whole stash of new bullets to try out." She grabbed a couple cases and handed them to Amos. "Here, you can make yourself marginally more useful with these."

He rolled his eyes and took them. "Thanks." He stuffed the cases away and glared up at Magni. "You well enough to head out on the road?"

Magni nodded. "No more pain."

Evelot giggled. "Looks like my potions did the trick. You'll be feeling a bit sore for a couple days, so try not to overdo it, big guy!"

"Yes."

Amos opened the carriage door and gestured the girls through. "Come on, I don't want to hang out here any longer than we need to."

Phoebe hopped inside. "I think it's safe to say I won't be eating peppers or muffins for a loooooooong time."

"You and me both." He pushed Evelot inside and closed the door behind him. "Alright Magni, get a move on!"

The gigantic Scolipede let out a mighty roar before galloping out of town, bursting through the snowbanks and heading in the direction of Copper Gorge. With any luck, the journey forward will be much less hectic. One could only hope for such luxury.

After putting some distance between them and Crimehallow, Magni galloped at a steady rhythm through the flat plains, allowing his passengers to rest soundly within their carriage. Evelot stared out the window watching the scenery pass by, Phoebe carefully sharpened her heated dagger, and Amos reclined back in his seat mindlessly kicking his foot out.

His eyes eventually drifted to his gunarm, and he took notice of the state it was in. Having used it as a makeshift shield against the violent pepper brothers, it took a serious beating. The metal had been worn down with slashes. It looked ready to break if used again.

"Ah shit," he grumbled.

"Finally noticed?" Phoebe asked with a light smirk.

"It's been a crazy night. It was the last thing on my mind."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure. You were busy choking on peppers for most of that fight anyway."

Evelot turned away from the window and huffed. "I, for one, am glad that it's nearly destroyed. You had that thing stabbed into your arm for over two months. You're lucky you didn't get infected."

Amos shrugged. "You have to do anything to survive, right?"

"Even still, I imagine the recoil on your arm hasn't done you any favors. I'll have to treat you once we reach Copper Gorge."

Phoebe chuckled. "Besides, once we find Caractacus, you can go back to gunslinging with a brand-new pincer and not look like a total idiot with a gun stabbed through his arm."

"Amusing." Amos adjusted his shades as a beam of light passed over his face. "Ugh. You sure this guy will get me a good prosthetic?"

Evelot hummed softly. "Eh, well…assuming he's properly motivated to help—"

"We have to pay him?"

"Nothing's done for free…except crime, I guess."

Phoebe snickered. "Brilliant idea. We'll threaten him into complying—"

"No!"

"Jesting, jesting! Relax."

Amos groaned, gently rubbing his face. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there." He sunk into the corner of his seat and exhaled a deep breath. "So, about last night…what's the deal with this criminal group those two mentioned? The Deadly Seven?"

Phoebe finished sharpening her dagger and sheathed it. "I'm surprised someone with your background isn't familiar with them."

"I don't pay attention to anything that doesn't interest me."

"Sounds about right." She folded her arms behind her head and leaned back. "The Deadly Seven is a notorious criminal organization within the Outlands. When it started to form…sixty years ago, I believe, lawlessness reigned supreme. Gangs popped up, and there was total anarchy everywhere. Anarchy usually devolves into chaos. It's always natural to establish some order no matter how fucked up it is. That's how societies keep from total collapse. And, of course, where there are gangs come gang wars and territory dispute. The Outlands has basically been locked in the past for the last sixty years with everything practically destroyed."

"Hence why my family could make a comfortable living for so long out here," Evelot briefly chirped in.

Phoebe nodded. "Point being, there had to be some order established, so one day a mercenary decided something needed to be done. He would go on to be the original founder of the Deadly Seven, a seven-man team of mercenaries working to keep the Outlands under control from the shadows. Their members change every so often, mostly because they'd be killed on the job, though I've heard the original founder is still alive. Of course, their members change so frequently that you can never really tell who's who."

Amos glared. "And they establish themselves as peacekeepers?"

"Something like that. They're hired by other gangs sometimes to quell the imbalance of power, though they do act of their own accord. Alibrand and Wigbrand seemed to be tasked with keeping the criminal population stabilized. A lot of baddies like to come here and experience the lawlessness, after all."

"How dangerous would you say they are?"

She shrugged. "Like I said, they change members so frequently that you can never properly identify them. There will always be seven members, but it's the ones that are most well-known that are the most dangerous." She glared. "For example, ever heard the rumors?"

"What rumors?"

"Apparently the mercenary who took on the moniker of Greed…fought the Fairy Knight to a standstill once."

Amos' eyes widened. "The Forester leader? The second most wanted creature in Virdis? That Fairy Knight?"

She nodded solemnly. "I don't know who he is, but that kind of rumor isn't something to joke about. Everyone fears the Fairy Knight for a reason. He could singlehandedly destroy every thug in the Outlands if he so chooses. And the Greed bearer hasn't been a member for that long, maybe a couple years at best. I heard he killed the last Greed bearer and took their position."

"The brothers mentioned someone named…Absalom. Is that the guy?"

Phoebe grimaced. "I've heard that name once or twice when I was a kid, so no. Actually, I'm pretty sure Absalom was the original founder of the Deadly Seven, so he may very well be the strongest of them. If I remember right, he may be the Wrath bearer as there's never been a recorded mention of anyone else taking on that title."

"…" Amos glared down. "Do you know anything about the other members?"

"Nothing useful. Rumor has it the Pride and Envy members are relatively recent, and the Lust bearer has been around for a while. Don't know much about who bears the Sloth title. Other than that, I've got nothing else on them. They keep quiet about themselves as best they can."

He clenched his teeth. "And Cain just has these guys as his hired help?"

Evelot whimpered softly. "This is the kind of stuff we have to deal with in the Outlands, Ammo. That's how a lawless land is run."

"…" Amos closed his eyes and sighed through his nostrils. "A world dictated by the scum, you mean?"

"A world dictated by the vilest," Phoebe corrected. "The Outlands have gotten worse and worse as the years pass. It draws out some of the worst types of people."

"…Doesn't seem like it's the only place to draw out such evil," he mumbled.

Phoebe shrugged. "Either way, we need to stay on our guard. Once they find out what happened to the brothers, it'll be a matter of time before they come after us. They may already be on our tail if they're working together on this one."

"…" Amos glared warily out the window, wondering if the shapes and mounds of snow were figures stalking them from far away or merely the brief sightings of cacti in the middle of nowhere. "Constantly looking over your shoulder for danger…"

Such paranoia…shouldn't be thrust onto the undeserving.

Year 896 – Willowsummit, Wick Kingdom

It wasn't like Amos to stay around town longer than needed, but the prospects of a party did entice him. It was a rare treat to indulge himself on, and he did make a decent sum of money with his latest hunt, so one night of fun wouldn't hurt him.

Standing in front of the saloon doors, the Gligar took a deep breath as he mentally prepared himself for the merriment taking place on the other side. Shaking off his nerves, he pushed the doors open and let himself through.

A wild surprise greeted him inside as he took in the myriad of party goers partaking in drinks and debauchery. Everyone seemed to have a tankard glued to their hands as they drowned themselves in all manner of liquor, laughing and dancing about at the peak of drunken nirvana. Patrons swinging off the ceiling lanterns, off-key music being blared off the corner piano, and playful fist fights all around. Some even felt free to throw off their clothes and bathe themselves in liquor.

Amos grimaced a bit before slowly easing his way through the saloon. "I've never been to a party before, but I definitely know they don't go this crazy." He jumped back from a Camerupt and Grimmsnarl crashing on top of a table as they made out and felt each other up. The Gligar shielded his eyes from them and kept on his way. "Never this crazy…"

"A shame, because crazy brings the best company to a party." The bounty hunter froze, tilting his head back enough to see a familiar Liepard looming over him. "Hello, local hero~."

Amos smiled. "Oh, Rosamund. Hi."

"You liking the party so far?"

"Eh…" He winced as someone came crashing down from the lanterns and smashed through a table. "I guess?"

Rosamund giggled. "These are all regulars to my parties. Don't worry, I have everything covered, so feel free to indulge through the rest of the night."

Amos smiled. "Are…you sure? This seems a bit expensive."

"Nah. I always cover the damages after one of these. It's just some harmless fun at the end of the day, right? Or night, I suppose."

"Heh. I guess I'm not used to cutting loose. Still, I'm not one for hijinks."

She shrugged. "Have it your way, local hero~. I'm fine with a little chatter. How about you and I hit up the bar and get ourselves some drinks?" She brushed past him, gently gliding her tail across his cheek and shaking her rear at him. "Annnnd perhaps a little more fun later tonight."

"…" Amos chuckled and followed behind her. "Well, I suppose that's good enough reason to stay for the night."

"I'm glad you see things my way~."

The festivities taking place faded from Amos' attention as he and Rosamund engaged in pleasant conversation over the course of the night, sharing laughs and drinks all around. The Liepard swayed as she sipped her third tankard of ale while Amos looked to be doing alright despite being on his sixth cup.

Rosamund smirked. "How unlucky that you can't get drunk. That darn Immunity ability for yours must make it difficult to cut loose."

He shrugged. "I'd say it's more of a blessing than anything. Besides, I won't have to worry about getting drunk until I decide to evolve one day." He frowned. "Huh. I can't help but wonder what alcohol will do to my system with the Poison Heal ability."

Rosamund snickered. "Health benefits from alcohol? Call me jealous." She finished off the last of her drink and slammed the tankard down. "What I'd give to experience heavenly bliss like that."

Amos smiled. "Well, drinking yourself into a stupor doesn't sound like the pleasant time it's cracked up to be. I prefer keeping my sharp mind." He glanced over his shoulder, frowning as the other party goers started to grow sluggish from the alcohol swimming in their systems. Some even passed out over each other. "At least no one is being too violent. I've had to deal with a few of those over the years."

Rosamund traced her paw around the rim of her cup. "Curious what drives a man to pursue a life of travel and solidarity. Mercenary work doesn't sound all that fulfilling."

Amos crossed his arms over the counter and huffed. "Ever felt like you only have one actual skill, and it's pretty useless in everything but a hyper specific situation?"

"Can't say I have."

"Well, that's me when it comes to being a mercenary. After all, I had to basically fend for myself before…" He shook his head and covered his face. "No, you don't want to hear me blab on about this crap."

Rosamund scooted closer, gently wrapping her forelegs around him and nuzzling his cheek. "Come now, Amos, don't hold it in. I'm here to lend an ear. What's on your mind?"

"…" He sighed. "I never knew my dad, and my mom…basically got rid of me to feed her addiction. I used to grow up in Grimebrook before I was tossed around between foster homes. Once I turned thirteen, I left on my own and did some odd jobs just to make money. I got caught up in a hostage situation until a bounty hunter saved us. I guess that was the day I decided to pursue mercenary work."

"Oh, you poor thing~." She nuzzled along the crook of his neck. "That must've been so hard on someone so young."

Amos closed his eyes. "I practiced my Sand Sensory and Guillotine everyday to make the most of my new lifestyle. I've gotten so used to being abandoned that I just decided to stick by myself." He sighed, gently shaking his head. "I hear and see so much going on in Wick that it…kind of brings you down. I don't know, it just feels like the world feels a bit more spiteful each day, and I'm just along for the ride."

Rosamund gently raised her tail, brushing it along his side. "That's how people are nowadays. You want to make it big, you need to learn a thing or two about cruelty. Misery brings profit."

"But it feels like crime just gets worse and worse every time I checked the wanted posters. It's like goodwill is disappearing." Amos opened his eyes, peering at the wall of alcohol before him. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't born with Immunity. Maybe I can forget the world for a little longer until the day I retire and die in peace. Isolate myself from all this noise and live for once."

Rosamund smirked. "That doesn't sound much like living. Why not…enjoy life while you can?" She traced her paw along his chest. "I think there's merit in living life without regrets. Who cares what the rest of the world is like? Shouldn't you put your happiness first?"

"…" Amos sighed. "I never really considered what I wanted. I just…kept going with the motions and hoped something would turn up. I'll resign myself to a life as a mercenary, but—"

"But sometimes branching out and exploring the rest of the world can do wonders." She tilted his head so that he was facing her. Her cheeks were flushed red from the drinks, but she still seemed to have a degree of coherence in her expression. "I live without thinking of the consequences. I just do what I do and live the best life I deserve. I think a workaholic like you deserves something like that."

"…" Amos frowned. "You think I deserve a good life?"

"I think everyone does. It's just a matter of finding what makes you happy and not dwelling on the darkness so much." She leaned closer to him, their faces a mere inch apart. "And I don't mind a little danger in my life."

"…" Amos chuckled softly. "Why the interest in me of all people?"

"Who knows? I've just had my eye on you since you arrived in town. Call it a killer curiosity~."

"I'm still not sure if this is for me—" His eyes widened as the Liepard suddenly cut him off with a swift kiss. Warmth spread from his face to the rest of his body in seconds. He couldn't stop his tail from wagging under him, banging against the counter and stool.

Rosamund gently pulled away and leaned her forehead against his. "Did that change your mind~?"

"…" Feeling a bit mischievous, Amos smirked. "I…could use more convincing."

"Well, I've got a room rented out in the saloon. Why don't we…negotiate in there~?"

Before he could give a response, she already claimed his lips back onto hers, wrapping her forelegs around his smaller body. Amos allowed himself to melt into the embrace and raised his pincers to her slender form. It was a strange feeling to him, being in the gentle embrace of another.

He…almost wanted it to last forever.

The night had been a blur for Amos, lost in the heat of the moment. He recalled fragments of the evening, such as him and Rosamund departing from the party and continuing their fun from her rented room. He lost track of time, and he didn't recall when he actually went to sleep, but it was safe to call it one of the best nights he ever had.

The Gligar groaned as he came to, finding himself laying face first in a pillow with a puddle of drool dribbling out from his open mouth. He blinked his weary eyes, taking in the sight of the guest room he was currently occupying. Not much beyond the standard accommodation found in most taverns.

He sat up and stretched his limbs, soon realizing he was naked under the sheets and that his clothes were scattered on the floor next to him. However, that wasn't the only thing he realized. Looking to his right, he saw that the rest of the bed was bare and without the Liepard he shared with it last night.

"Rosa?" he mumbled. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before throwing the sheets off. "Must've gotten up early…"

After quickly bathing himself and redressing, he made his way back to the main foyer of the saloon. Unsurprisingly, the entire venue was trashed beyond recognition from the party. Tankards were spilled out over the floor, tables were destroyed, and lanterns had collapsed from the ceiling. There was also a foul mix of aromas in the air that Amos didn't want to dwell on.

"Ah, you're finally awake, Mr. Lancaster?" Amos turned to the bar counter and saw the Haxorus bartender attending to his usual duties.

Amos smirked. "Do you ever sleep?"

"I sleep when I'm not working."

"I hear that." He stretched his arms and walked over to the counter. "Do the parties hear always go this crazy?"

"The damages will be covered for as per usual."

Amos shook his head. "Damn, that woman can trash an entire town and pay it off good as new. Maybe I should ask her to throw me a party when my birthday next rolls around. Speaking of, do you know where she is?"

The bartender nodded. "I believe she went out with some friends this morning."

"Ah. Maybe I'll catch her later and say thanks for the night." Amos yawned and turned toward the doors. "Take care, old man—"

"Ah. Not quite yet, Mr. Lancaster. There's still the matter of the bill."

The Gligar froze partway to the doors. Blinking slowly, he craned his neck back and gave the bartender a wide-eyed look of befuddlement. "I…beg your pardon?"

"The bill for last night's party."

"…" Amos chuckled awkwardly. "Oh, uh…I was under the impression that the drinks were already covered. Eh, not a problem. How much do I owe you?"

"Six thousand eight-hundred and twenty bits."

Amos nearly spat acid onto the floor as he tripped back on his heels. "What kind of fucking drinks were you selling last night?!"

"I'm afraid you misunderstand. You're being billed for the party itself."

"W-W-What?!" He raised his pincers, snipping the air angrily. "Hold the fuck on, what are you talking about?"

"You agreed last night to cover the bill for last night's party."

"I did no such thing!"

"Yes, you did." He pulled a slip of parchment out from behind the counter. "I have your signature right here."

Amos raced to the counter and snatched the document from his hand. To his horror, printed along the signature line was his own name and handwriting in dried ink. His eyes skimmed through all the damages and drinks labeled above the total amount needed to be paid. He checked it twice, then thrice, and even four times before reality sunk in around him.

"I-I don't understand, I…I would've never…when did I even—"

"Ms. Rosamund brought it down from your room before she left this morning. She said you would happily pay for the damages."

"Why would she tell you that? I didn't…say…" His eyes slowly widened as the situation dawned on him. "I…barely remember anything from last night. Oh my gods…" He stumbled back, covering his mouth as if he was going to puke. "Oh gods, what did she…?!"

The bartender raised his brow. "Mr. Lancaster?"

"…"

"I hope you understand if you don't pay off this bill, I may be forced to call the town officers."

"…" Amos' eye twitched. "You can't be serious. She—"

"Whatever happened between you two last night is none of my concern. Now, will you pay off these damages or not?"

"…" Amos' dipped into a sharpened glare as venom dripped from between his clenched teeth. "That conniving BITCH!"

"ROSAMUND!"

The Liepard, who was resting under the glow of the setting sun, opened one eye and looked up to see a snarling Gligar standing over her with venom dripping from his exposed fangs. His pincers glowed faintly in the light of his Guillotine, both clearly being restrained by the fury-induced willpower of their user.

Rather than feel intimidated, she smiled smugly at the mercenary. "Amos~. Hi love~. I haven't seen you all day. Sorry, I had a bit of a hangover this morning and—"

"Cut the crap," he growled. "Do you mind explaining to me why I woke up to a bill for nearly seven thousand bits signed in MY name?!"

"…" She chuckled softly. "You seem a bit stressed about something. I thought you had plenty of bits saved up."

"I had to deplete a third of my savings to pay off that stupid bill!" he snapped. "What the hell is the matter with you?!"

She yawned and turned away from him. "Frankly, I don't know why you're so angry. You can just make more money, right?"

"That isn't the issue here!" He reached down and grabbed her by the collar. "You've got a lot to answer for!"

Rosamund smirked. "Ooh, you weren't this rough with me in bed~. I kind of like it—"

"I can't remember anything from last night! You used Attract on me, didn't you?!"

She tapped her chin innocently. "Attract, Attract…hmm, that doesn't sound like me at all—" Amos snapped his pincer closer to her nose, making her laugh. "Well, maybe just a little. Wasn't that hard…unlike you, I suppose. Still, I've had better."

He growled. "You manipulated me to cover the charges to that bill!"

She crossed her forelegs and chuckled. "Annnnd your point is…?"

He shook with greater rage. "How many people did you pull this same sick trick on?!"

"I think I lost count after seven."

"Why you…!"

She raised her paws in defeat. "Hey, it's not like I forced you into bed with me. You seemed pretty eager before I had to put on a bit of the charm last night."

"How can you sit there and treat this like a joke?! Do you have any idea the laws you broke for using Attract on me like that?!"

She smirked. "Oh, I'm sure the officers won't see anything wrong if you tell them."

"…Oh my gods…"

"I like to have my fun, and there's nothing funnier than partaking in some drunken revelry while someone else pays for it. I may have lied a bit about my financial situation, but how can I give up the fun of nonstop drinking while on a budget?"

Amos clenched his teeth. "You…!"

"Ah, don't be like that. Despite the deception last night, I know you enjoyed it—" She reached her paw out to his cheek, but he firmly slapped it away.

"You've got one of two options, lady," he growled. "One, you pay me back for all the money I lost on your stupid stunt. Or two, I sell your organs on the black market." He raised his pincer to her neck. "Take your pick."

She stared pointedly at his sharpened pincer, glowing in the light of Guillotine. She shook her head and tutted in disappointment. "Not everyone's born lucky, you know. I have to get by selling candles, and that's barely enough to make rent. I have to rely on the kindness of strangers to get by. It's amazing what you can do when you put on a little charm~. I, however, got greedy one day when I realized how far I could push my luck. Live a simple, modest life most of the month, then cut back and let loose by tricking some poor sap with riches to indulge with me. Simply put, I saw that you had money, so I did what I did because I could. After all, I'm just some poor beggar girl trying to get by."

Amos snarled. "Your little sob story is going to save you." He wrapped his pincer around her neck. "I don't take kindly to being made a fool of."

Rosamund glared. "Then let me spell out the obvious to you: you had more money than me, thus that makes you richer than me. And as far as I'm concerned, the rich don't deserve my sympathy. You had your life in order for as much as your own sob story is concerned, and I'm stuck here in Willowsummit hoping I get paid by the end of the week. You'll recover, and I'll still be stuck here. After all, there's a good chunk of people out here who would love to stick it to the nobles for hoarding all their riches to themselves."

"You think that justifies manipulating me?" Amos growled.

"The rich manipulate everything and everyone. Money speaks. Why should I care what happens to some rich bastard at the end of the day? They have all the power they could ask for. What's a thousand-bit loss going to change?"

"I'm not a nobleman!"

"Hmm, true, but…well, you just had the misfortune of catching my attention." She smirked at the irate Gligar. "Don't look at me like you haven't had thoughts like that. I'm sure you've had plenty of daydreams robbing some poor shmuck's mansion and making off like a bandit in the night. What's the harm? Who cares about all of that?"

"I don't care about noblemen or their riches. You. Conned. Me." He tightened his pincer around her neck. "You're wasting my time. You either pay up, or I'm tripling what you owe me with a liver."

"…" Rosamund chuckled. "For what it's worth, it's not like I found you boring. I was quite captivated by our conversations. For instance, I remember what you told me in our first meeting—"

SMASH!

"GAAAAAH!" Something slammed and shattered across Amos' face. He let go of Rosamund and stumbled back, covering his bleeding face as he felt another liquid dripping down to his chin. "AGH! What the…?!"

"Strength and experience make cocky foes, right?" Rosamund's voice whispered across his ear. "Best way to take them down is with a good distraction and the right tools, right? Too bad you didn't bother throwing up that little sand trick of yours."

Amos swung at her, only swiping at air. He tried to force his eyes open, but he realized his mistake immediately. He screamed out in agony as whatever was splashed over his face dripped into his eyes. An unimaginable burning sensation festered across the surface of his eyes, worsened by the glass cutting over his eyelids. "AAAAAAGH! What is this?!"

"A little something I whipped up for you, Mr. Lancaster. Thank you for paying off your bill, by the way."

Amos recognized the second voice almost immediately, and he made his blood boil. "YOU?!"

Rosamund laughed as the Gligar squirmed in place. "How else could I pull the same con? I get my party, he gets paid…plus interest."

"I buy up cheap furniture whenever Ms. Rosamund hosts one of her parties. Makes clean up less of a nuisance, and I still keep a hefty sum of bits."

"RAAAAH!" Amos threw himself at the two, but ended up falling on his face and jabbing more of the glass shards into his skin. "AAAAGH!" He rolled onto his face, frantically clawing at his eyes. "You…! You'll pay for this!"

"Oh, I haven't heard that one before." He felt her tail sweep under his legs and knock him back onto the ground. "What a shame. Can't inform the officers, and you can't even defend yourself. Oh well, that's life, I guess."

"Rosamund!" Amos roared. "I'll kill you, you arrogant bitch! You hear me?! I'LL KILL YOU!"

"You should've just accepted you got conned with grace. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to head into work. Ta-ta, Amos the Sand Devil."

"Rosamund, you…!"

"He's causing a scene. He should probably sleep a little longer."

WHAM!

Something heavy struck the back of his head. Amos fell back onto his face as his consciousness slipped. He cracked his eyes open, peering past the burning tears in his eyes, and glared at the shape of the purple leopard waltzing away without a care in the world. He reached out to her, venom dripping through his teeth, as he strength waned and visioned darkened.

"Rosa…Rosamund…get…back…!"

Get back!

Get back here!

Get back!

I said—

"Amos—"

"I'LL KILL YOU!"

"EEP!"

A thud snapped Amos awake. He blinked his eyes twice, realizing it had turned to night. He had fallen asleep sometime during the carriage ride, and they appeared to still be moving.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized he had his pincer around Evelot's neck—or at least her costume's neck. The terrified Mimikyu looked up at him with tears in her sparkly eyes.

Upon realizing this, his eyes immediately shifted to Phoebe's direction, half-expecting the murder happy Aipom to draw a dagger to his own neck. To his limited fortune, she remained passed out in her seat, drooling against the carriage wall.

"A…Amos?" He looked back at Evelot, who was still pinned to the seat in his grasp. "I…"

"…" He let her go and fell back into his seat with a huff. "You shouldn't wake a mercenary like that."

She whimpered. "S-Sorry."

"What did I say about…ugh, never mind."

"Sorry."

"Ugh…"

"I-It's just…I saw you shaking in your sleep, and I thought you were cold. Th-Then you started mumbling something, and you looked really angry, and you were swinging your gun around, and—"

"Alright, alright, I get it. Shut up already."

"…" Evelot narrowed her eyes worriedly. "Do…you want to talk about it?"

"…No."

"A-Are you sure?"

"…" His glare sharpened. "How much did you hear?"

"W-Well, I—"

"Because whatever you thought you heard, you didn't hear anything. Got it?"

"…Yes."

"Good." He leaned back into his seat, arms crossed over his lap, and shut his eyes. "Go back to sleep."

"…I have bad dreams sometimes, too—"

"Don't. Start."

"…S-Sorry."

Amos waited a moment before peeking one eye open. The Mimikyu did as told and curled herself back into a tiny bundle of cloth. Whether or not she was actually asleep wasn't his concern. He closed his eye and tried to quell the endless storm of emotions racing through his mind and chest. Try as he might, he couldn't steady his heavy, aggravated breathing.

Once I find Cain and slit his throat, I'm getting as far away from these two as possible. I'll never, ever let myself be vulnerable in front of another again.

Crimehallow, Hours Earlier…

"Well, that's what happens when you let a savage do the work of a genius: you have to clean up their mess. They should count themselves lucky someone witnessed their final moments to be immortalized."

A half hour after the Broken Glass Alchemical Company left Crimehallow, the Pride and Envy bearers of the Deadly Seven made their way down from their campsite to take in the devastation left behind in the midnight assault. Some bounty hunters had already left in pursuit of what would certainly be less life-threatening bounties while others succumbed to the effects of the pepper harvest.

Ulrich and Vilgot grabbed Ali and Wig's body and took the time to bury it under the very tavern they loved to use for their schemes. It wasn't anything special, just some old debris cobbled together into the shape of a grave marker, but it was something. They even hung their broken scythe and sickles on the marker and painted a bundle of peppers with pools red and green blood found on their body.

Ulrich wiped his hands clean and laughed smugly to himself. "Looks like a position opened up for the Gluttony title. Hopefully the next one doesn't have a similar appetite."

Vilgot glared. "Was it really a wise idea to let Faucher and her allies leave? They were still weak from the battle. We could've easily—"

"Killed them in their weakened state? Perhaps." Ulrich smirked. "However, keeping them alive for now may actually prove useful. Looks like we've got another quarry to look into. They're after a fellow known as Caractacus MacGyver."

Vilgot raised his brow. "MacGyver? Isn't Cain looking for a MacGyver? Wait, when did you learn about—" His eyes widened. "Wait, did Helmut tell you?!"

"He did."

"He's still here?!" He looked around frantically. "Dammit all, he was here all of last night and you didn't even tell me?!"

Ulrich smugly rubbed his knuckles across his chest. "Well, I am quite amazing, and you're…well, my sidekick."

The Flapple pouted. "Jerk…"

"He's not here anymore, but he did tell me those four are looking for Caractacus. They apparently mentioned it this morning before they went scavenging for supplies." The Alolan Raichu snickered. "Meaning if we follow them, we'll find Caractacus and Faucher. Cain will recognize my talent and make me one of his top enforcers, and I'll have all the power I deserve."

Vilgot glared. "You mean we'll have all the power we deserve, right?"

"That's what I said, me."

He rolled his eyes. "Riiiiight. Well, we should get a move on before we lose them. If you're serious about finding Caractacus—"

Ulrich's smirk stretched wider. "Once we find him, I'll finally have my revenge on that conniving hound. Sweet, sweet revenge!"