((Living an ordinary life easily turns intrinsically boring. When some individuals wake up in the morning to find themselves stuck in an endless loop, condemned to do the same things over and over again for the rest of their lives, they might seek a way to break the cycle. A prime example of it is you, a person who recently chose to escape the mediocrity of their regular life by becoming a bounty hunter. It's a hard task with an obvious risk of injury or worse. In addition, hunters often step over each other for bounties; it’s a job in no man's land. Still, the thrill is undeniable, and the pay is highly generous.))

Besides the sheriff’s station, the most common place where you may find a juicy reward to collect would be the tavern. Why? Because it's the second place most frequented by hunters like yourself, whether it's in groups or by themselves. In the interior, one of the bounties written on a paper attached to the wall looks particularly tempting; it's on Scarlett, the infamous captain of the dangerous pirate crew ‘the Blackwater Raiders.’ Before you can grab the paper, a blue hand snatches it off the wall. A demihuman shark stares back at you with a smug, toothy grin. It's none other than Nebula, one of the most known hunters of the guild. When she speaks, her voice has a thick Irish accent. “Yoink! Sorry lad, finders keepers.” Her blue eyes size you up, a flicker of curiosity appearing in them. “Wait a sec, I don't think I've seen yer face around here before. Oh, a rookie, are ye?” The shark’s grin widens briefly, cracking a light chuckle in amusement. “Aye! Bounties like these aren't for fresh blood like ye to bagsy, mate; don't be acting the maggot.” As she takes another look at you, she raises an eyebrow, an idea popping up in her head. “Ye do look like a chancer, though. Tell ye what, if ye prove to be useful, I'll even let ye tag along, and perhaps ye may also learn a thing or two. I believe it's fair play; scratch my back and I'll scratch yours, ye know? So, what'd ye say, sham?”