“Yes.”

  Her eyes opened wide, and she nodded.

  “How did you escape?”

  Jaeger drew a cigarette and looked at her.

  “You mind?”

  “No, but let me handle the smoke.” She traced her finger through the air and flicked a glowing sigil upward where it hovered above his head. “Go ahead.”

  He lit the cigarette and took a drag.

  “I did not escape. The world, or whatever controls these scrolls, saved me. It detected my guns and power, which were black-listed weapons. Whatever saved me intercepted me from the Illustrious Torture Chamber and then deposited me in the forest, with my gear changed without explanation.”

  Lisette seemed confused when he said something saved him, but she laughed when he mentioned the black-listed weapons.

  “You weren’t saved. You were detained for black-listed weapons and then thrown far from your original drop-off point.” She wiped her eyes before continuing. “It’s a contingency in the summoning ritual that stops certain materials from entering Rangaea. I imagine the BLC was doing a random abduction and didn’t consider who they were grabbing.”

  “If it didn’t save me, why’d it give me the Dimensional Abductee title?”

  “Maybe it’s better to say your being saved was secondary to detaining the black-listed components. The system must have scanned you after it detained you, determined you were simply an outworlder, and traced the situation back. Nothing escapes the system's attention when it’s looking.

  Jaeger shook his head at the thought that all that saved him from spending time in a torture chamber was the fact that he carried lead and gunpowder. He chuckled darkly, that had been the first time his pistol had saved his life without needing to be drawn.

  “The Illustrious Torture Chamber, huh? That’s the big time.”

  “What?”

  “This is hearsay, but in some old texts, I read, the Illustrious Torture Chamber is where they send any outworlders they catch. Everyone who manages to leave leaves a zealot follower of the company.” Lisette groans with a realization. “I’m going to have to report this to the Hecate.”

  “You have to report that the BLC summoned me?”

  “No, well, yes, but also that you were destined for the Illustrious Torture Chamber. If the BLC are summoning outworlders, then they’re making moves too.

  She shoves away from the table.

  “It was nice catching up, Jaeger, but I’m now swamped with reports I have to make. Take as long as you need for your business, but be ready. When you are ready, I expect the guild will have stacks of bounties.”

  With that, she ends her spells and gets up. Nodding to him, she moves out, stopping at a few tables as she does. Jaeger finishes up his food and cigarette before making his way out too. Exiting the dining hall, he decides to check out a few of the nearby guild buildings. He was especially interested in the one that looked like a bathhouse.

  Making his way towards it, he enters and finds it set up in a communal style. It reminded him of Caesarian bathing halls he'd visited in the Beserian capital. Walking in, he was met by an attendant who directed him to a changing room where he was provided a towel and offered laundry services. He changed out of his clothes and took the offered laundry service.

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  As he changed, he caught sight of himself in a mirror and took a moment to look at himself and the changes that had happened to him. His eyes were now dark purple and occasionally seemed to glow. When he'd first seen them, Jaeger had been disturbed; a physical change like this was a lot to take in. Now, though, he'd grown to appreciate the purple. Then there were his arms, with their familiar chain tattoos, except now they ran from his shoulder to his wrists, having moved up from his elbows. Their positioning hadn't changed, only their length and the number of them. He also noticed that the numerous scars he'd picked up over his years of bounty hunting were fading away. His most recent, a burn near his kidney that a mad powder kegger had given him, had been weeks old and barely healed, ugly and aching. As he looked at it now, it more resembled a cooking accident than a battle scar.

  His body was healing in ways that could only be called magical. As he stared at himself, he considered that idea. He hadn't had a single coughing fit since he'd gotten here, nor had his bad knee given him problems. He seemed to have been given a new lease on life. Smirking at his reflection, he found the idea that even given a second chance, he made the same decision; to hunt.

  "Once a hunter, always a hunter."

  Shaking his head, he turned from his reflection and left to bathe.

  One relaxing soak later, Jaeger found himself being hand-delivered a letter. The guild courier said the sender had marked it as urgent. He took the letter and read it.

  To the Hunter,

  The time is now. I have fulfilled my business and procured what supplies I need. Meet me at the Black Rose Club as soon as possible. Don’t take too long or I shall have to find some way to entertain myself.

  -K.S.R.

  P.S. Prepare an alternate outfit, you will not want to be easily recognized, and be prepared to leave the city, but do not bring your horse.

  He could only guess it came from Kaeleth, and it seemed her job was ready. He’d have to find a change of clothes and a way to disguise his axe; it was too distinct as it was. Or maybe it was time to see about getting an arm chain; in fact, he had an idea on that and knew just the blacksmith to help.

  Walking into Lorcan’s forge room was like walking into an active volcano and a pirate’s treasure cove. Heat billowed out from the large active forge, while weapons, armor, trinkets, and crafting materials littered the open space. In some areas, the gear was stored as though in a storefront, while others simply sat in piles. The sound of hammering metal led Jaeger to his blacksmith friend.

  The metal goliath was intent on a dark, jagged dagger. He towered over it, muttering and cursing as he struck it with his hammer. Jaeger couldn’t make out any words, but they didn’t seem to be ones of encouragement. He was content to stand and let the master work. The hammering continued for a few more minutes before the goliath blacksmith stopped, and grabbed the dagger, bringing it up to his face.

  “I appreciate that you have your own opinion on what you should be, but I keep telling you that if you become a tool for genocide, then someone will unmake you. Except for the more balanced path of removal, it has a similar result but without the foul intention.” He held the dagger, which seemed to vibrate between his fingers. “Good, I shall shepherd you shortly, but first I must deal with my friend.”

  Placing the dagger back onto the anvil, he turned to Jaeger and smiled.

  “I’m glad to see you now, come and tell me how the axe handled?”

  Smiling Jaeger moved up and took the blacksmith's hand, shaking it.

  “It worked great, Lorcan. Tore clean through corrupted treants, enspelled chains, and even against an emissary; an entity I’ve been told is quite strong.”

  The goliath nodded and moved behind his forge, returning with a barrel and two mugs. Pouring two frosty brews, he handed one to Jaeger.

  “Good, I never doubted it. Now, what can I do for you? I imagine that this isn’t a social call?”

  Jaeger raised an eyebrow as he sipped the drink; it was a strong alcohol and had a nutty flavor.

  “What makes you think that?”

  Lorcan finished his drink before pouring another and laughing.

  “You are carrying yourself like a hunter prepping for something big. When you were here last, you had a more relaxed aura, more of a predator content and at rest.”

  Jaeger took another sip of his drink and considered that.

  “You aren’t wrong; I am preparing for a job.” He went silent. “That being said, I have decided to treat this place as my home. I would have come to see you regardless.”

  The goliath smiled and toasted to Jaeger.

  “I know, but if you have a job, do not let me keep you. How can I help?”