Bounty Hunter

A duke recognized by the royal family and holding a noble title obviously would not appear in a tavern in a place like this. So "Duke" was more likely a nickname or codename. Sifa easily distinguished that and moved toward the bar.

He heard someone call toward the bar, "Sanchi, another beer over here."

Sitting on a high stool before the bar, Sifa did not take the initiative to speak. He was certain the original owner had frequented bars before, but he did not know what the original owner had come to bars for.

Although he had inherited this body's memories, they now seemed to be only fragments.

He needed to recover the rest of the memories himself before he could piece together the complete past.

He could begin with the Sea Monster Tavern.

The bartender, who had just delivered a beer, did not seem surprised by Sifa's silence. He continued wiping a glass and said, "I thought you weren't coming back. If that had been the case, all my effort would have been for nothing."

Sifa raised his head and glanced at him through his black iron mask.

The bartender shrugged. "What, did you forget? You asked me to look into something for you."

"Looks like you found something." Sifa deliberately lowered his voice, making it sound deep and mature, distinct from his usual bright, clear tone.

Bartender Sanchi casually glanced at him. "Are you sick? Your voice sounds different from usual. Your nasal tone is heavier, and you're not normally this hoarse."

Is that so? Thanks for the reminder. Sifa made a slight adjustment, then said, "Probably because I haven't slept a wink in the past forty-eight hours."

Sanchi laughed. "That's normal. You're the best bounty hunter around here. Going two days without sleep is nothing."

Bounty hunter? The original owner actually did this? I think I know why he was so skilled at killing. But why would a young master like him give himself the identity of a bounty hunter?

For fun, or was there another purpose?

"By the way, do you want to know the results? I mean, about that matter." Sanchi put down the glass and looked at Sifa.

"Of course."

Sifa also wanted to know what exactly the original owner had asked him to investigate. He watched as the bartender pulled a small notebook from beneath the bar and tossed it in front of him before asking, "What are you drinking?"

Sifa picked up the notebook. "The usual."

Sanchi gave an oh and began mixing a drink.

Sifa opened the notebook and saw several pieces of information scribbled inside.

"Shadow Glove: a fingerless glove of unknown material. It can increase the wearer's strength and enhance the force of their strikes. During attacks, it can also randomly summon the Shadow Fist. The Shadow Fist forms from the void or shadows and strikes at the target's body and mind.

"Hmm, I heard that in dark or dim environments, the chance of summoning the Shadow Fist increases."

This was a Beyonder weapon!

The original owner had actually been collecting Beyonder weapons? He knew of the existence of Beyonder Abilities? That was not particularly strange. He was already a bounty hunter, and the best one in this small town at that.

Then the question was, as an excellent bounty hunter, even if he had merely been an ordinary person, why had he been killed aboard the Alfalfa, giving me the chance to be reborn?

If the original owner's death had been caused by someone, if it had been arranged, then wouldn't seeing him alive again arouse suspicion?

Could it be that I was already on someone's blacklist?

The thought sent a chill down Sifa's spine. Now that he thought about it, perhaps even his safe disembarkation had been part of some arrangement.

He had to increase his strength!

Well, he would start by getting this Beyonder weapon!

Sifa put down the notebook. At that moment, Sanchi slid a drink over to him. It was as red as blood, as if blood had seeped into it. The original owner liked this stuff?

Sifa gently lifted a corner of his mask and drained it in one gulp. It tasted like fruit juice when it entered his mouth, but once it reached his stomach, it felt like a ball of fire was burning inside him.

After putting his mask back on, Sifa pushed the notebook back. "Where can I get this item?"

Sanchi put it away, braced both hands on the bar, leaned forward, and lowered his voice. "The seller is here, in the card room. His name is Bridge. You can speak with him directly."

Remembering Leon's "guidance," Sifa recalled that Hunters had a habit of gathering intelligence. He did not hurry away from the bar and instead asked, "What do you know about this Bridge?"

Sanchi shook his head with a smile. "You know how it is, Duke. I have to protect my clients' privacy. I can't provide information about them."

"You can."

Sifa took out a stack of banknotes from his pocket, pulled out a five-pound note, and placed it on the bar.

Sanchi shook his head, swiftly covered it with a glass, and said, "This guy only came to our town recently. He seems to be in trouble. He's very suspicious and likes cards. Oh, right. He asked me to find him a bodyguard, but only a temporary one."

Sifa took out another five-pound note. "What else?"

"Damn it, Duke, you can't make me do this." Sanchi viciously pocketed that note as well. "Fine. Mr. Bridge's trouble must be quite serious, because besides being professional enough, he said the bodyguard should preferably be a Beyonder!"

"Yes, you heard that right. He needs a Beyonder bodyguard. God knows what kind of trouble he got himself into. If I were you, I wouldn't wade into this mess."

Sifa put away the remaining banknotes. "I like your honesty."

"Get lost!"

Sanchi said irritably, though his body honestly pocketed the ten pounds as he pointed toward a room behind the tavern.

That was the card room.

Sifa lowered the brim of his felt hat and walked along the wall, brushing past several drunks before arriving at the card room.

He knocked on the door, and someone opened it. A choking smell of smoke drifted from the room. Hazy white smoke floated in the air, making even the gas lamps' light seem somewhat unreal.

Sifa walked in, handed his hat and coat to the attendant beside him, and deliberately left his holster exposed. He leaned against the wall without joining the card game.

After observing for a while, Sifa realized they were playing Texas Hold'em, a game invented by that fellow transmigrator.

At that moment, a middle-aged man in formal attire with slightly graying hair turned over his hole cards. A spade ace and a spade ten appeared on the table, along with the spade two, spade nine, and spade king. Together, they formed a flush.

The men around the table let out regretful noises. Clearly, the middle-aged man had won.

He stood up with a heartfelt smile on his face and swept the banknotes on the table toward his corner. Before they could begin another round, Sifa cleared his throat.

"Which one of you is Mr. Bridge? Sanchi sent me. I wish to purchase a special item."

The man who had just won raised his head and assessed Sifa. His gaze lingered longest on the iron mask, then on the holster beneath Sifa's arm. Then he smiled and spread his hands. "Gentlemen, how about we call it a night?"

It seemed he was Bridge.

Knowing that he had business to discuss with Sifa, the others left one after another. Once even the attendant had gone, Bridge counted his banknotes and asked, "What should I call you?"

"They all call me 'Duke.'" Sifa gave his nickname here.

"Duke?" Bridge looked up. "You're the best bounty hunter in this town?"

"Perhaps. Mr. Bridge, what is the price of your 'Beyonder weapon'?" Sifa pulled over a chair and sat down, leaning slightly forward to show his focus and release a faint sense of pressure.