A Hunter’s Claim

The air was thick with dust and the acrid scent of gunpowder. Scarface clutched his bleeding leg, his breath ragged as he glared up at the newcomer. His men hesitated, shifting uneasily as the sharp ring of the gunshot still echoed in their ears.

The bounty hunter who had just blown through the outpost's wall stood with the casual confidence of a predator. Their rifle, still lightly gripped, wasn't even aimed—yet the unspoken threat in their stance was clear.

They didn't need to fire again.

The first shot had been a warning.

"This bounty belongs to me," the newcomer repeated, voice cold and controlled.

Liam forced himself upright, still gripping his ribs. His body ached, every movement screaming in protest, but he kept his focus on the bounty hunter. The way they carried themselves, the precision in their actions…

They weren't amateurs.

Scarface spat blood onto the floor. "Who the hell do you think you are?" His fingers twitched toward his sword, but the bounty hunter merely shifted their stance slightly, their hand ghosting over the rifle's trigger.

Scarface froze.

"I think," the bounty hunter said smoothly, "I'm the one who just saved your sorry hide from making a very costly mistake." Their sharp gaze flickered toward the other bounty hunters. "And I think the rest of you have a choice to make."

A slow tension filled the room. The remaining men weren't loyal—they were bounty hunters, motivated by coin, not camaraderie. With their leader wounded and a new wildcard in play, they were calculating the risks.

It took only a few seconds for self-preservation to win.

"Tch." One of the bounty hunters lowered his blade and stepped back. "This isn't worth it."

Another grunted in agreement. "Scarface, we need to move before more trouble shows up."

Scarface's nostrils flared, frustration bleeding through his expression—but he wasn't stupid. His leg was ruined, his advantage gone. Staying any longer meant risking death.

He gritted his teeth and spat at the floor.

"Fine." His voice was venomous. "Have your damn bounty."

He shoved himself upright with a snarl, favoring his injured leg. With one last scathing glare at Liam, he turned and limped toward the door. His men followed, tension lingering in the air like an unspoken threat.

The second they were gone, silence settled over the outpost.

Iris let out a slow breath, rolling her shoulders. "That could've been worse."

Ileana didn't lower her guard. Her hand still hovered near her bow. "Could still be worse," she murmured, eyes locked onto the newcomer.

Liam finally found his voice. "…And who exactly are you?"

The bounty hunter turned to him, finally giving him their full attention. Up close, their features were sharper beneath the hood—a strong jawline, piercing amber eyes that missed nothing. The sigils on their cloak pulsed faintly, whispering of enchanted craftsmanship.

Then—a smirk.

"You can call me Vance."

Their grip on the rifle relaxed slightly, but the weight of their presence remained. "And as of now, I'm your best damn option if you don't want to die before sunrise."

Liam's brows furrowed. "You just claimed my bounty. Why the hell would you help me?"

Vance chuckled, stepping forward. "Because, Liam Voss—" Their amber eyes gleamed with something unreadable.

"—I don't plan on turning you in."

Shifting Alliances

Liam's heart pounded. Not turning him in? That didn't make sense. Bounty hunters didn't work for free, and a price like his wasn't something people just ignored.

Iris narrowed her eyes. "You expect us to believe that?"

Vance shrugged. "Believe what you want. I have my own reasons for interfering."

Ileana studied them. "And what might those be?"

Vance grinned. "Oh, you know. Curiosity. Opportunity. Maybe a bit of both."

Liam's grip on his aching ribs tightened. A bounty hunter who didn't want the bounty? That was even more dangerous than a greedy one.

"…You want something else," he said slowly.

Vance's smirk widened. "Smart." They leaned against the broken doorway, arms crossed. "Let's just say your Architect abilities are catching a lot of attention." Their voice lowered, tone turning sharp. "And not just from bounty hunters."

Liam stiffened.

The hidden Architect faction.

Could Vance be tied to them?

Iris crossed her arms, scowling. "And what if we say no to whatever deal you're thinking of?"

Vance chuckled. "Then you can take your chances with the next wave of bounty hunters that come sniffing around. Because trust me—" They tilted their head toward the door. "—this was just the first batch. There will be more."

Liam exhaled slowly. They weren't wrong.

His bounty had skyrocketed, and news traveled fast. Every mercenary, assassin, and opportunist in the region would be looking for him now. Fighting their way out of every encounter wasn't sustainable—not in his current condition.

Which meant…

They needed an edge.

His eyes met Vance's. "And what exactly are you offering?"

Vance grinned. "Safe passage out of this region. I know ways to move unseen. Routes that bounty hunters don't know about." Their voice dropped slightly, amusement flickering in their tone. "I also happen to have a few connections that might be useful to someone like you."

Liam didn't miss the implication.

Vance wasn't just offering escape. They were offering information.

Possibly even about the hidden Architect faction.

He glanced at Iris and Ileana. Neither looked thrilled, but neither immediately refused. They knew as well as he did—this was the best shot they had.

Liam inhaled deeply, then exhaled.

"…Fine." He met Vance's gaze. "We'll hear you out."

Vance's grin was all sharp edges. "Smart choice, Voss."

They pushed off the wall, slinging their rifle over their shoulder.

"Now, let's get moving before your next fan club arrives."

Liam cast one last glance toward the broken doorway—the remnants of a battle that was just the beginning.

He didn't trust Vance.

But for now, he'd take the gamble.

Because survival always came first.

And the real game was only just beginning.

To Be Continued…