’This kid... she’s completely nuts.’
He took a step closer, his eyes fixed on the small, blood-spattered figure.
’She killed five grown men. And she’s not even upset. She’s humming. This is not normal.’
His entire life, he had operated on a simple logic. Useless things were discarded. Dangerous, unpredictable things were neutralized before they could cause problems. Rebecca was now firmly in the second category.
’She’s a problem. A huge one. The logical move is to deal with her now, before she becomes a bigger problem.’
His fingers twitched at his side.
Rebecca finished wiping the axe blade and set it down carefully. She looked up at him, her expression still eerily calm.
"Why did you do it, Rebecca?"
She tilted her head, as if the question was confusing.
"I told you. They moved." She pointed at the dead bounty hunter boss. "And he hit me. Just like my dad used to."
"My dad was a hunter, a D-rank," she continued, her voice flat and devoid of emotion, like she was reciting a to do list. "He was strong, like really strong but he also got angry a lot, especially when he drank. " she was silent for a bit, "My mom died when I was born, and he always said it was my fault. That I killed her."
She looked down at her own small, bloody hands.
"So he hit me, and when hitting wasn’t enough, he used to do other things, too. Bad things. The kind of things grown-ups shouldn’t do to kids."
She finally looked up, her eyes meeting his. There was no sadness in them. There was nothing, nothing at all.
"One night, he was really drunk. He came into my room, shouting and tell me to get ready. That night I was ready though. I had a knife hidden under my bed. It was the same one he used to skin monsters with. He didn’t see it. He was too busy taking his pants off."
"I stabbed him forty-seven times that night," she stated. "Then I took all his money and his cores, then I left. That was a year ago."
She gestured back to the bloody cart.
"That man in the cart, the boss. He had the same look in his eyes that my dad had right before I killed him. So I knew I had to do it. It was the right thing to do."
He stared at the ten-year-old girl who had just confessed to patricide and a mass murder with the emotional investment of someone discussing the weather.
The twitching in his fingers stopped.
He looked from the blood-soaked axe to the small, blood-spattered girl, and then back again. He reached out a hand and patted her on the head. She was just a kid who has gone through things kids should never experience.
Rebecca went completely still for a moment. He then turned, walked over to the cart, grabbed one of the bodies by the arms, and hauled it out onto the ground.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
"These are a problem," he stated, reaching for the second body. "Leaving them here will attract scavengers. Burning them creates a smoke signal. We need to bury them."
"Oh! Okay! I can help!"
She dropped the axe with a clatter, ran over to the cart, and grabbed the legs of another body, trying to pull it out with a grunt. While they worked, Luthra mentally accessed the system for information.
The Gorgon Syndicate was a C-Rank criminal organization that specialized in illegal mining and human trafficking, operating exclusively in the northern lawless territories outside of the Hunter Association’s jurisdiction. Their leader was a B-Rank hunter known as ’Gorgon’ Silas, whose petrification magic was the source of the slave-branding sigils. The Syndicate’s main fighting force was comprised of roughly 300 C-Rank and D-Rank hunters.
It took them over an hour with their bare hands and a single rusty shovel, but they managed to dig a shallow, mass grave. They pushed the five bodies in, covered them with rocks and dirt, and then moved on.
Luthra got back into the driver’s seat of the cart, and Rebecca, now covered in dirt and dried blood, hopped up beside him.
"Okay! Adventure time!"
’I still think keeping her around my be a problem but that’s for the future to decide.’
He snapped the reins, and the cart lurched forward, continuing its journey north.
The cart traveled for ten hours across the rocky, barren plains, the sun beating down on them without mercy. Finally, a settlement appeared on the horizon, a sprawling collection of wooden and stone buildings surrounded by a high, crudely built wall. It was much larger than a simple village.
’This is a problem,’ Luthra thought, looking over at the girl beside him.
Rebecca’s clothes were still caked with dirt and streaks of dried, dark blood. He could not just drive them into a populated area looking like they just came from a slaughterhouse. It would attract the kind of attention he did not want.
He pulled the cart to a stop a few hundred yards from the main gate.
"Hey, what gives? Why are we stopping now? I can see the houses! Maybe they have real beds!"
He did not answer. He got up, walked to the back of the cart, and rummaged through the bounty hunters’ supplies. He pulled out two thick, wool blankets. They were scratchy and smelled faintly of horse, but they were clean. He walked back and tossed them into her lap.
She looked down at the blankets, then at her own messy clothes. "What? Why? I think it looks cool. It says, ’Don’t mess with me, I just killed five guys’."
"It also says, ’Please arrest me, I am a child murderer who is bad at hiding evidence’."
"Oh. Good point." She grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped it around her shoulders like a cloak, pulling the hood up over her head. She used the second one to cover her lap, hiding the bloody axe she refused to leave behind. "Okay, how do I look? Mysterious and cool?"
’sigh, what am I doing, honestly.’
"You look like a lumpy sack. It’s perfect."
He ignored her, snapping the reins to get the horses moving again.
’I need to gather information. This Gorgon Syndicate sounds like a pain. A place should have people who know things.’
This was Outpost K, the last major settlement before the lawless territories of the Northern Wastes. It was a chaotic town populated by mercenaries, merchants selling questionable goods, and hunters who operated outside the Association’s rules. The laws here were flexible, enforced only by the will of the town’s de facto leader, a retired A-Rank hunter everyone called ’Old Man Moria’. It was the perfect place to get supplies and rumors before heading into dangerous territory.
As their cart approached the towering wooden gate, two guards stepped forward to block their path. They were large men wearing mismatched pieces of armor, and they both held massive, two-handed axes.
"Halt! State your business in Outpost K," one of the guards boomed, his eyes scanning their cheap cart and worn-out horses.
"We’re just travelers passing through. We need supplies," Luthra stated, his voice flat.
The second guard walked closer, peering at Luthra, then at the small, blanket-wrapped figure of Rebecca. His eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Travelers, huh? You look more like trouble. That thing on your arm," he pointed at the Chain. "That’s not a normal piece of equipment. And what’s with the kid? Why is she all covered up? You a slaver?"
Rebecca poked her head out from under the blanket. "I am not a slave! I am his official sidekick and porter!"
The guards just stared at her.
"Fifty credits," the first guard said, holding out a hand. "Entry tax. Per person. And another fifty for the cart and horses. Pay up or turn around."
’what the fuck? That’s got to be a lie.’