Chapter Sixty-Two: The Bounty Hunter, Part Two


    The pub was mostly empty, the patrons still asleep, but Reza walked in nonchalantly, carrying the heart in her hands. She always hung out in this inn when she was in this part of the country, and, even though bounty hunters weren’t good for business, the owners tolerated and even liked her.


    “Senhora Reza, what a delight!” Senhora Renata told her, arms flung wide to embrace her. Reza let the owner hug her, but didn’t return the hug.


    “It’s great to see you too, honey,” She said. “Do you have food ready?”


    “Not yet,” Renata admitted. “You’ll have to wait thirty minutes. You got the money?”


    “Soon enough,” Reza showed her the heart. “Once I talk to the Ancient, I’ll get it.”


    Senhora Renata nodded, knowing her long enough to believe her. “And how will he know you’re here?”


    Reza shrugged. “Ancient powers, I guess. He said he’d know when I was here.”


    “Sim, I assume he’ll use something like that,” the busty, overweight, cheery owner responded. “Come, sit at any table you like, you can wait, we don’t mind.”


    “Of course not, darling,” the beast hunter smiled thinly, sitting down at her favorite table in the corner where she could see anything else that would happen.


    Senhora Renata went to the back where the already growing smells of food were coming from, making Reza’s mouth water. Soon after she left, another woman came out, this one looking like a slightly less fat version of Renata.


    Senhora Marta.


    Reza knew they weren’t siblings, but they looked close enough.


    “Senhora Reza! What a surprise. I thought you wouldn’t be back for days!”


    “It was a quick hunt, baby,” Reza said. “But a good one, and it pays well.”


    “That it does, but only for you,” Marta laughed. “Next time, take your business somewhere else. You scare away customers.” She said this jokingly, but it was the truth. Bounty hunters did tend to scare away any potential customers for pubs and shops, not that Reza particularly cared. They were right to be scared of her, because if she was sent to hunt them, they would be dead within the day.


    When Senhora Marta left for the kitchen, Reza closed her eyes and leaned back, bringing her chair to touch the wall, fingering her knife, just in case anyone tried to attack her. She always slept lightly, and the slightest touch was always enough to wake her.


    So when the creak of the floorboard sounded in her ears, she flung her knife immediately. Once again, her aim was impeccable, the knife thudding into the wall an inch from the man’s face.


    “Impressive,” the Ancient told her, removing the dagger. “I was sure I made no noise.”


    “Not to me,” Reza responded.


    The Ancient, strangely, did not look Ancient at all. Most Ancients Reza had met were at least sixty, but this one was thirty at most. He had a scraggly beard—or, at least, what would one day be a beard—and long, tousled hair that flowed freely, with spectacles that almost shined in the dark- He was wearing a formal Ancient suit, complete with cape and the blood-red Ancients symbol, a fire-breathing salamander.


    “Is the job done?” He asked.


    Reza nodded. “The mutant is dead.” Plopping the heart on the table, she grinned, showing her teeth wickedly. “Now, I believe you have something of mine, darling.”


    “Sim, I believe I do, in fact,” The Ancient said, letting his bag of coin clink on the table. Reza grabbed it, trying not to look eager, and scanned its contents. It was all there.


    “Pleasure doing business, baby,” She said. “Now you should leave.”


    “Why?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing.


    “Because I don’t enjoy the company of those who will not give me a job or be hunted by me.”


    “I have information for you.”


    “Of what kind?” Reza asked skeptically.


    “The Revanchist is rising in the east. He’s taken over Quintal.”


    “Fogo,” Reza breathed, “That’s horrible. Guess beast hunting there is out of the question.”


    The Revanchist was a rebel, one who wanted to change how the country was run. His regime was very dictatorial, and beast hunting was extremely illegal there. Reza had tried bounty hunting there once, and she would never do it again.


    “And they’re moving north now,” The Ancient said. “I would be careful.”


    “Why are you telling me this free?”


    “Because, frankly, I like you, and bounty hunters in general, but mostly you,” The Ancient admitted.


    “If you want my services, I don''t give any,” Reza glared.


    The Ancient laughed. “I’m not looking for that. Just looking to keep in contact. I might need another service some day.”


    “You probably have a way of finding me with your Ancienty-ness,” Reza said.


    “True, but I don’t do that on principle. So I’m asking for your name and permission. I am Roberto.”


    “I really couldn’t care less what your name is,” Reza told him. “Diminishes who you are as an ancient. As for my name, Sangue de Monstro is good enough, don’t you think?”


    “And your permission?” Roberto asked.


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    “No. I don’t talk to those who employ me. It tends to get me in tough situations.”


    “Fair enough, but I must say, I’m disappointed.”


    “Me too,” Reza told him. “I was hoping food would be ready by this time.”


    “You really don’t want me here, do you?” Roberto asked.


    “What gave you that impression?” Reza responded sarcastically.


    Standing up and raising his hands, Roberto turned his back to her and walked to the door.


    “I’ll leave. If I want to find you again…”


    “Ask around,” Reza responded. “Find me the way you found me the first time. But only find me if you need a job.”


    “Of course,” Roberto said, opening the door. “I’ll see you soon.”


    “Please don’t.”


    — — —


    The morning went exactly as Reza expected. After the pleasant—yes, it had been pleasant, although Roberto hadn’t been—conversation with the Ancient, Reza ate and spent the next hours around the city, indulging with her new coin. She didn’t waste all of it, or even most of it, but enough to have fun. And fun didn’t come cheap anymore.


    Lunch was back at the same pub, sitting at her table. And it was her table. She’d never seen it occupied by anyone else, and if it had been, she would’ve been pissed. And surprised.


    Which was why that day when she found someone at her table—and her chair— she was surprised, irate, and very, very confused.


    “Do you believe in God, Reza?” The hooded voice asked, a woman.


    “What are you doing in my chair, darling? You want to lose a finger?”


    The woman stood up. “You couldn’t hurt me. But I’ll do what you wish.”


    “How do you know my name?” Reza asked, sitting on her chair, across from the woman.


    “Why don’t you answer my question first?”


    “No, I do not believe in God,” Reza responded, drawing her knife. “I refuse to. Now, it''s your turn.”


    “I’ll let you have your confusion. I have a job for you.”


    “I don’t take jobs from shady folks. Show me your coin and reveal yourself.”


    “That is fair,” The hooded woman said, showing her a bag full of gold coins, causing Reza’s eyes to pop. “Never seen that much coin in your life, huh? Well, then with that amount of coin, then I don’t need to show myself.”


    “Half up front.”


    “Of course,” The woman slid one bag over to her, and Reza took it greedily.


    “What do you want, darling?”


    “Why, I want to introduce you to a god!”


    — — —


    Reza looked up fiercely, eyes blazing. “What the hell do you mean?”


    The woman chuckled. “Now I have your attention, huh. Your job is killing a god’s minion!”


    “I don’t believe in God.”


    “Not for long,” The woman replied, sliding a piece of paper to her. “This is Irm?o Sérgio. He works for the Revanchist.”


    “You think the Revanchist is a god?” Reza scoffed.


    “Of course not. But the Revanchist works for a god,” The woman responded, causing Reza to laugh out loud.


    “You must be joking!”


    “I’m dead serious. He lives in Oriente, and he should be easy to find, as he does not hide, but be wary. He will be hard to kill.”


    “I don’t know if I want to do this,” Reza said. This job was shady at best, life-threatening at worst. Just the talk of a God was strange. “You’re clearly lying to me, unless you truly believe the Revanchist works for a god.”


    “And I do,” the woman responded genuinely. “The god is real, and by the end of this, you will agree with me.”


    Reza narrowed her eyes. “And why should I believe you?”


    “No reason,” the woman said. “But there’s a lot of coin involved.”


    “You must think me stupid and greedy,” the bounty hunter responded. “I’m not dumb. I know a bad and concerning deal when I see one, and this is a textbook one.”


    “Not so, I’m recruiting you for a reason,” The hooded figure responded. “Isn’t Sangue de Monstro the best bounty hunter? Why would I scam the greatest bounty hunter? That would only cause you to kill me!”


    “True enough,” Reza admitted. “Can you give me five minutes, at least?”


    “Sure.”


    When the man left, Reza put her cognitive skills to work. That is, she tried to. She already knew what her answer was going to be. She’d let her curiosity get the best of her again. Plus, it was a lot of money. The answer had to be yes.


    The whole God business was strange, Reza had to admit that, but the person sounded genuine enough, and she was giving her enough count to last years, enough maybe even for Reza to retire, although she’d never do that.


    But how did the woman know her name? That was the true mystery, and Reza didn’t know if she could trust the woman for that one reason. She wanted to hide herself, and that was never a good reason. But Reza was nothing if not risky.


    And a little crazy.


    And so, when she called the woman back, she had just one thing to say.


    “I’ll take it,” She growled. “But you better not be messing with me, or I swear, I will track you down and kill you, whether you show yourself to me or not.”


    The woman laughed. “A good choice, huh. And I’m not scared. After all, I’m telling God’s honest truth. I’ll see you soon, and when I do, you won’t be an atheist anymore.”


    “I highly doubt it, baby. Now leave me alone. I must prepare myself.”


    “Of course,” The woman stood up. “Thank you for making the right choice. Don’t fail.”


    When she was gone, Reza cursed herself and banged on the table. She couldn’t help but feel this would go horribly wrong, but it was too late now. Whoever the woman was, Reza was sure she wouldn''t leave something undone.


    Well, no reason worrying about it now. Standing up, Reza sheathed her knives and stood up, glaring at anyone who so much as glanced at her fleetingly.


    “Is my horse out back?” She asked Senhora Marta.


    “Yes, you should find it there.”


    “Thank you. I’ll be back eventually.”


    “I’m counting on it.”


    Reza did, in fact, find her horse outside. She saddled the horse and nuzzled her.


    “I missed you, darling. Ready for a ride?”


    Her horse, Cavala, snorted, as if to agree with her,


    “Great, let’s do this.”


    Jumping onto the saddle with surprising agility, she rode forwards, away from her town and towards Oriente, where she would face the last person she needed to.


    A worker of the Revanchist.


    She’d hated the first time she’d met the Revanchist and had vowed to herself she’d never get close to him again. This was a risk, trying to kill one of his minions, but she had to do it.


    Something in her was telling her to.


    Usually, she wasn’t one to trust her gut and heart. It usually led her in the wrong way. This time, she felt the need to follow her gut. It felt like her destiny, something she didn’t even believe in.


    But, if the woman was right, Reza was about to believe in something else.


    Reza was about to meet a God.