[Although Mob's words go unheard, that doesn't stop a bubble hiding behind the knob from popping when Rufus reaches for the latter.
The scene is a barren land held together by manmade parts. The wilderness is the poor outskirts of the flourishing city, such that even something about the air feels off, if not outright unhealthy. At the empty plaza of one small village, twomen converse with one another when a familiar child in ragged clothes approaches them.
"Are you the legendary bounty hunter?" he asks in a youthful voice that has yet to break.
The second man turns around with a look of mild surprise. "Rufus?"
"Just answer my question," says Rufus with more bark than he should be able to muster in his famished state. It's been a while since he's had something filling to eat, but that's not important right now. "I asked if you're the legendary bounty hunter."
"What a bold kid." The first man turns to the second. "Do you know him?"
"I do. That's the son of Legis." When the name is echoed, the second man continues, "Yes, the real legendary bounty hunter. I'm just sharing the title as his partner. Do you understand, Rufus? That was your father."
Rufus scoffs, peeved at the mention of his hateful father. "How is he a legend . . . I understand why they say bounty hunters are no different from outlaws. I am not looking for cowards." He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a gun too big for his hands, and points it at the sky, "I need money. Please make me a bounty hunter."
"Isn't that Legis' gun?" asks the first man. "Boy. A good kid shouldn't play with guns. Guns are for bad adults."
"The gun is already in my hand. If that's the requirement, I will become a bad adult."
"Why don't you sell the gun?" asks the first man again. "I'll pay you well. Or I can refer you to a good place."
"Listen to Randy. Look for a different job if you want to live," says the second man.
Rufus swallows, hesitating. Truthfully, the gun is more for show than anything right now. Once he runs out of the ammunition stocked at home, he'll have to pay for them with money he doesn't have. It's very likely that he'll have to rely on another power for the job he demands, and that would force him into close range of deadly targets. Even still, he refuses to do what may be considered sensible.
"My mother . . . my mother is very sick," he says pitifully.
The second man hums. "All right. Let me see what you've got! I'll help you since your father and I were friends."
"I don't like the reason . . . but I will let it pass this time."
The man frowns. "I think I should teach you manners first."]
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The scene is a barren land held together by manmade parts. The wilderness is the poor outskirts of the flourishing city, such that even something about the air feels off, if not outright unhealthy. At the empty plaza of one small village, two men converse with one another when a familiar child in ragged clothes approaches them.
"Are you the legendary bounty hunter?" he asks in a youthful voice that has yet to break.
The second man turns around with a look of mild surprise. "Rufus?"
"Just answer my question," says Rufus with more bark than he should be able to muster in his famished state. It's been a while since he's had something filling to eat, but that's not important right now. "I asked if you're the legendary bounty hunter."
"What a bold kid." The first man turns to the second. "Do you know him?"
"I do. That's the son of Legis." When the name is echoed, the second man continues, "Yes, the real legendary bounty hunter. I'm just sharing the title as his partner. Do you understand, Rufus? That was your father."
Rufus scoffs, peeved at the mention of his hateful father. "How is he a legend . . . I understand why they say bounty hunters are no different from outlaws. I am not looking for cowards." He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a gun too big for his hands, and points it at the sky, "I need money. Please make me a bounty hunter."
"Isn't that Legis' gun?" asks the first man. "Boy. A good kid shouldn't play with guns. Guns are for bad adults."
"The gun is already in my hand. If that's the requirement, I will become a bad adult."
"Why don't you sell the gun?" asks the first man again. "I'll pay you well. Or I can refer you to a good place."
"Listen to Randy. Look for a different job if you want to live," says the second man.
Rufus swallows, hesitating. Truthfully, the gun is more for show than anything right now. Once he runs out of the ammunition stocked at home, he'll have to pay for them with money he doesn't have. It's very likely that he'll have to rely on another power for the job he demands, and that would force him into close range of deadly targets. Even still, he refuses to do what may be considered sensible.
"My mother . . . my mother is very sick," he says pitifully.
The second man hums. "All right. Let me see what you've got! I'll help you since your father and I were friends."
"I don't like the reason . . . but I will let it pass this time."
The man frowns. "I think I should teach you manners first."]