CHAPTER 001

"THE GAMBLE"

I will admit... I am unconvinced that I am qualified for this job. These numbers are ludicrous even for the upstairs to offer, and whatever this guy has done has clearly gotten someone upstairs Very Angry....

Although, I would also love to stop sleeping in dumpsters and other bins that happen to be nearby... My fur deserves far better than washing up in whatever pond is in the outskirts of town.

Sachiel holds the paper in his grip, scratching at the long tanned fur on his chin.

Hm... and having a proper place to sit and clean my weapons would be ideal... No dirt getting right back into them after cleaning.... Ugh, whatever. I suppose I need to submit an ‘application’ first before I can muse the possibility.

He shuffled his way down the neon and gloomy street. Many shady persons lurked in the alleys and boulevards just beyond the main strip... But the market’s people were far from being the same. These people resided here happily (despite their living situation) and came and went as normal, some as always giving him odd glances. They were all just normal people, forced to live in a dangerous and unregulated place just because they weren’t ‘good’ enough. Sachiel didn’t understand it.

He looked up at the sign for his usual tavern. With a name like ‘The Hovel’ you wouldn’t expect it to be a very good place to dine or frequent. Surprisingly, it was actually quite well kept. Actually, it was the best kept bar in the entire Undertow if you were to ask Sachiel.

They also carried his favorite whiskey.

He slumped in through the door.

The very short, sunglasses bearing barkeep greeted him with the usual, “Hey there Fangs, what’ll it be?”.

Sachiel tossed his remaining coin at them, telling them to get him “The Usual, food included this time... with a request.”

“Request, eh? That’s unlike you bud, what’d’ya need?” They grinned, taking the coin and popping it into a lockbox below.

“Paper... Mhh, specifically one of those applications those thronies need for their hits.” He sat down at the counter, actively avoiding looking around at the other patrons whom he was aware had already started their odd glances.

The bartender gave him a chuckle and slid him a glass of his usual whiskey, an old one, a strong one, something with a hint of orange and smoke. They gave their coworker the food order, while rummaging below. “Oh-hoh, so you saw the notice. I’m surprised at you, Fangs, you don’t usually work for the Upstairs... what’s with the change of heart?”

Sachiel took the paper and started to fill in his information, name, experience, any previous hit with their invoice numbers... listed weapons? He huffed, struggling to talk and fill it in at the same time... His penmanship and focus were lacking.

“Mh, yeah... Look, Cy... I don’t like hunting you folk. Humans that is. I also however don’t like sleeping in empty dumpsters either. A hit like this could secure me a place to live in, finally... as well as replace my broken weapons.”

Cy smiled, it was always nice when Sachiel did refer to them by name and not just reply to what felt like no-one.

“Yeah we all dream of that one huh? I can’t blame you for wanting a place of your own. You've only been here a year and a bit now and still tend to be kicked out of bins. Not exactly the most ideal setup.”

“You’re telling me.” He scribbled, pulling out a set of crumpled and sad papers from his satchel. “I just hope I can A) get the job, and B) pull it off.”

“Ey, don’t worry about it Fangs, you’re a talented dude. Still glad I hired you before to take care of that ‘rat’ problem I had. Who’da thought all you’d need to clear the riff raff was just some cheap intimidation... Though I am glad you keep comin back here, does my business good to see your patronage, buddy.”

Sachiel sipped at his drink. “Do what I can to not be a nuisance.”

He finished up with his paperwork, stuffing his face with as much of the calamari he ordered as he could, then left as he usually did- silently and without much more to add to the room.

-

The application process was fairly simple. The Hunts were generally regulated by the people above, however anything requested from a persons of Undertow were marked with their own symbols next to the request file. All Hunters needed to be documented- and required invoice receipts in order to take on hits from wealthier individuals. As well, they were judged and graded on their hits based off their performance and how much damage they caused to surrounding areas, being docked accordingly.

Application desks were always found at a "Spire". Around the city were 8 Grand Spires. These spires connected the undertow to the guys up above ground. There was one in the middle, Alpha, then 7 around the outer areas of the other sectors. They basically were just support beams to hold the upper city off the ground and into the air.

Spire Gamma was the one closest to the place Sachiel generally lingered. This spire was also one of the most beaten down because it, and Theta, were near what was described as a ‘hot spot’, or an area where there was frequent 'entity' attacks.

Sachiel was wasting no time... He wanted this done and over with.

Dropping his application off and then sitting on a bench nearby, he refused to move along with the others who had also applied. It was easier than having the huntsmen workers come and find you... and he wanted to know sooner than later.

-

It didn’t take long, hits like this usually had a prompt response within 4 hours of the posting. If you missed it then it sucks to be you. A worker called over the loudspeaker, requesting Sachiel to the desk.

Not bad.

“Awrite Mistah Sachiel, lemme see ya ID.” The front desk lady held out a hand, she seemed quite old to be doing a job like this still.

... Mistah? Sachiel is fine... and I thought it was pronounced 'Mister'.

Sachiel handed over his ID. Thankfully these people didn’t care where it came from, just as long as theres a photo of you and a name that matched their signup records.

“Ohkay, Mistah Aethurt will see ya in his office, sweetie, head to the back I’ll open the elevator.” She boredly gestured to the other side of the spire.

...His office? Does that mean..?

Sachiel looked up, his ear once again turning backwards in concern.

I guess I get to know a little more about the upstairs.

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