*Chirp* *Chirp*
The birds sang as the morning sun rose. And with the birds' lullaby, a man woke up from his sleep.
John let out a groan and said, "Dang, I forgot how rough it is sleepin' on the forest floor."
He stood up and scanned his surroundings. After seeing that everything was clear, he put out the fire that he had built last night and made his way to the town from before.
Entering the town, he was instantly given the same eyes they had given him the day before. Everyone tried to avoid him as much as possible, causing him to grunt in annoyance as he couldn't ask anyone for help.
However, after a few minutes of trying to ask someone, John finally had enough and caught a random man on the street.
John grabbed him on the collar and pinned him in a dark alleyway. "You gonna answer my damn question—got that?"
The man tried to yell but John quickly pulled his gun and placed it on his chin, "You best not yell… or I'll blow your damn head clean off"
Finally understanding the situation, the man nodded and said, "F-Fine. I'll do what you want."
"Good. Now, first question—ya know anybody go by the last name Marston?" Asked John.
The man shook his head and answered, "N-No, sir."
Sensing the honesty in the man's tone, John asked another question, "You hear anything 'bout the Royal Knights? What went down last night, and if they're out and about right now?"
Still shaky, the man answered, "Yes, sir. Word has it that a high-ranking knight was dispatched last night because the Star bandits were killed. Although they might act like we don't know what they're doing, we know those royal bastards use bandits, so it was quite a big deal."
"How many?" John asked.
"There aren't many Royal Knights, but I sure do know that all the Bandits are on high alert. They even came here last night looking for a man unfamiliar… It's you!"
Before the man could yell, John knocked him out cold and said, "Ain't I tell you not to yell?"
John stepped out of the alleyway and made his way outside of the town after buying some bullets. Surprisingly, the gunsmith had all the ammo type he needed, and some guns even piqued his interest, but alas, his money was too low.
"Damn bandits… But if they're workin' for some Kingdom, maybe they know somethin' 'bout my family. Since I somehow ended up here, there's a chance they might've landed somewhere close too," John thought to himself.
As John thought of a plan, he started walking in a direction, but after a few seconds, he remembered he didn't know where to go. And so for the 3rd time, he went back inside the city, and went to the only person he knew, the bartender.
After entering, the bartender instantly turned red and pulled out a machete. The burly man jumped over the table and ran towards John with pure anger, "Where the hell is my money?!"
John chuckled and pulled out a bag, "Here, ya old fool. This oughta cover the shots from yesterday… and buy me some answers too."
Hearing what John said, the bartender took the bag and glanced at John with a wary look. But in the end, after counting the money, the bartender just grunted and said, "Alright, what do you wanna know?"
"First off, you know anybody with the last name Marston?" John asked.
The bartender shook his head, "No, not that I can remember."
John sighed, "Alright then, you know anyone who might? If not, reckon the Royal Family might have a clue?"
The bartender let out a small chuckle, "Sorry, friend, but I'm not an underground boss. I don't know everything that happened here, nor do I have a connection. But if it's the Royal family, they'll probably know."
John stood up with a bright smile, "Really?!"
The ruckus caused everyone to stare, but the bartender easily calmed everyone down and continued, "Yeah, if they're nobility, that is. Or anyone important."
John furrowed his brows, "Don't play me." He placed his hands on his revolver, which made the bartender sweat a bit.
"Calm down, will you? The Royal doesn't give a damn about commoners or anyone important in their eyes. But I have heard rumors about an underground organization that worked in the Capital."
"Underground organization?"
The bartender nodded, "Yeah. Although I don't know their name, there are some wild rumors that they are the one who controls the bandits, and the Royal family hired them. Other than those rumors, I know nothing about that organization. I don't even know if it's real or not."
"Any bandits nearby?" Asked John.
Hearing that, the bartender frowned, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"I've got a family to find."
The bartender stared at John and sighed, "Fine. There are no bandits nearby, but there is a gang that controls this area, all connected to the Royal Family."
"How d'you know they're tied to the Royal Family?"
"Fancy caravans come here once a month. Although they try to hide it and make it seem like old worn-out caravans, they're too clean and neat to be a commoners caravans. And just like the bandits, the Black Dog Gang should be part of the rumored organization."
"So where they at?
The bartender sighed once more at John. He then took out a map and said, "Here. North of here, there is a small village. That village isn't a real one; it's the gang's hideout. They don't even try to hide it. They'll ask for tolls to pass that place. Worst part, that place is the only way to the Trade City."
John took out some cash and said,
"How much for the map?"