Survival Instinct (2)
Once the chaos in the alley had settled, the first place I sought out was a hotel.
After checking in and stepping into the room, the past week of penniless living flickered through my mind.
"Ha. That was rough."
The memory of loitering outside fast-food joints because I had no money. The memory of my first telepathic scheme collapsing into nothing. The memory of being treated like a lunatic while wandering alleys all day. The memory of sitting around blankly, waiting for a suitable target to appear.
Looking back, not a single one of those memories was pleasant.
"Ugh."
I let out a sigh at the thought of that bleak past, straightened my clothes, and headed straight for the bathroom to wash up.
A full week since becoming Percival Smith. Compared to my original self, I had gone far too long without a proper bath. Until the moment I walked into this hotel, a grimy, unsettled feeling had clung to me — but the lukewarm water filling the tub melted every accumulated complaint away.
If paradise existed, it would have a bathtub in it. That was the kind of day it had been.
"Still… what do I do from here…"
Buoyed by the warmth of the water, I started thinking about the future.
The basic storyline of the ability-battle novel War City followed a protagonist belonging to the city's Peacekeepers as he hunted down the people who had wronged his younger sister. Along the way, he uncovered traces of various crimes and cleaned up the criminals he ran into as a bonus. The protagonist was a 6th Circle mage with formidable magic, and most of the criminals who stood against him were formidable in their own right.
Me? I was a mere 3rd Circle telepath.
The ideal approach would be to stay completely clear of the main storyline — but life never unfolded according to plan. If I wasn't going to fight those people with telepathy alone, I needed to prepare.
What I currently had was knowledge of the future and a handful of characters, plus a telepathic ability of questionable performance. Since telepathy alone couldn't give me a direct edge in combat, I had to avoid fighting head-on no matter what. The best solution was to find someone who could fight in my place.
In short, it would be nice to have at least one subordinate.
"…"
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
I had been submerged in the water, lost in thoughts of the future, when the doorbell rang from outside. Had a hotel employee come by?
The bathwater filling the tub had long since gone cold. There was no reason to keep soaking, so I climbed out, threw on a robe, and opened the door.
"What is it that you—"
"Hello."
The moment I swung the door open, I understood the situation. An uninvited guest had arrived — one whose eye level didn't match mine.
I lowered my gaze slightly and found a grey-haired girl with goggles perched on her head. Her outfit looked built for mobility, and no matter how I looked at it, she was nowhere close to hotel staff.
"What."
Caught off guard by the sudden visit, I asked bluntly. The girl held out an envelope she had been carrying. It felt slightly thick — at a glance, it looked like money.
"This."
"This?"
"You didn't collect the bounty, so I brought it."
"Bounty? What bounty?"
"These people."
She pulled up a photo on her smartphone and showed it to me. I took the phone and studied the screen carefully. Three familiar faces stared back — the three-man robbery crew I had just run into in the alley. And beneath them, the text jumped out at me.
WANTED — 1500 CREDITS
Only then did I understand what bounty she meant. The three-man crew I had taken down had a price on their heads.
"What, are you with the Peacekeepers? They do bounty delivery now?"
"No. I'm just a bounty hunter."
A bounty hunter. In War City, there were people who made a living chasing only criminals with bounties on their heads. Sometimes the Peacekeepers posted the rewards; sometimes private organizations put them up. But most of them shared one common trait: it was high-risk work that banked on a single big score. Occasionally a no-name criminal would get a bounty, but in those cases the payout was almost always pocket change.
In that sense, the girl in front of me being a bounty hunter made sense — right up until the part where she showed up at my door offering to hand over the money.
"How did you find this place?"
"These people. I'd been tracking them."
"So I just left them there, and you went and collected on my behalf?"
"Something like that."
"Alright. Got it. Thanks."
It felt like unexpected pocket money had just dropped into my lap. I offered my thanks and closed the door. I was about to flop onto the bed when the bell rang again.
Ding-dong. At the cheerful chime of the doorbell, I had no choice but to open up. The same girl stood waiting in the exact same posture as before.
"What now."
"You didn't collect the bounty, so I brought it."
The bounty envelope she had just given me was still in my hand. And she didn't look like she was carrying a second one. I shook the money envelope at her.
"I just took it."
"Yes."
"…"
"…"
"What."
I slammed the door shut. Immediately, the doorbell rang again.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
At the more aggressive ringing, I yanked the door open in irritation. Those grey eyes were still shifting between me and the envelope.
"You didn't collect the bounty, so I brought it."
"I know."
"Yes."
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…?"
The silence stretched long enough that I clicked my tongue and scratched my head. By this point, I was starting to understand what this bounty hunter wanted.
She had watched her quarry get snatched right in front of her, then dutifully returned the entire payout to its rightful owner. I didn't know the details, but her wallet situation probably wasn't comfortable. Even when you return a lost wallet found on the street, there's a certain etiquette about splitting a little of it, isn't there?
In short, she wanted compensation for her goodwill.
"Well. You did bring me a decent sum. How about I treat you to a meal?"
"Yes. That works."
"…I'll change and come out. Wait here."
I couldn't exactly go downstairs in a bathrobe. I closed the door with a silent sigh. Apparently I had chosen the right answer — this time, the doorbell stayed quiet.
As far as late-night options went, the only place nearby was a twenty-four-hour fast-food joint. The meal I treated my nameless uninvited guest to was, naturally, hamburgers.
That said, I didn't exactly go for the cheapest items on the menu. The girl walked in and asked me to order a set meal worth twenty credits, declaring she would eat the whole thing herself. Even I hadn't tried those luxury options yet. I ordered a five-credit set for myself — something simple to fill my stomach — while my mouth watered a little at the thought of hers.
When the trays finally arrived, we found a decent table and sat down.
"I owe you one today. I had no idea those guys had a bounty on them."
"It's fine. I ended up getting a free meal out of it."
"Looks like you're serious about bounty hunting. What's your name?"
"Sinel Cloverbloom. Unfortunately, I'm not particularly well-known."
With that, Sinel unwrapped her burger and bit into it immediately. From the moment the food arrived, those grey eyes no longer held me in them. The claim that she would eat the entire set herself hadn't been empty talk — the speed at which she demolished her meal was impressive.
"You eat well. Guess you usually have a pretty big appetite."
"My magic burns a lot of calories. If I don't top up when I can, it gets rough later."
"So you are a mage after all."
Of course. A girl going bounty hunting alone wasn't an easy choice. The work assumed combat as a baseline. Without magic, most people wouldn't make that call so readily.
"Yes. Though my level isn't that high."
"Bounty hunting's rough work. You must be fairly confident in a fight."
"That part usually isn't the problem. The problem is something else."
"Something else?"
"I keep losing my targets."
For some reason, I felt like I already knew why.