An irate, weedy, sweaty shell of a man had managed to catch up to our trio the last time they met. "You three have caused me such a ruddy headache! BAGHEADS. After you bailed, that Bandluchadore tore the place apart. I owe EVEN MORE COIN NOW; what the hell am I supposed to do!?" His high-vis yellow robes were drenched, and the colour in his face was starting to become brighter, more noticeable than the safety robe he wore.

MC looked at the other two, unsure of how to act. Horace was picking his nose, not realizing he was being watched, and turned away whistling. Dillee was pretending to be busy watching for the sun to break the horizon. Well, some bloody help you pair are.

MC had to try and speak, "Uh, failing to see how that is our problem, pal. He was going to smash your limbs to pieces… Are you into pain? Does a Warhammer to the kneecaps do that for you? Each to their own, but that's proper weird." Casually joking to a man on the brink was not a good idea.

"YA PRICK! I only owed money to THEM; now I have to pay them and my boss back for the damages done. They've fired me, and now Norman Normal has no coin to his name once again. Why did you think it was smart to attack bailiffs?"

This guy is crazy. What bandits? You mad bastard. "Norman. What the flying fook are you talking about, pal? There were no bailiffs, only bandits… Have you had a nasty knock to the head whilst we were away?" I tried to find out from this weirdo what was going on.

Norman looked like his head was about to shoot off. Blue bulging veins contrasting his vibrant pink skin. Dillee took it upon himself to calm the guy down with a leafy slap on the back; with a thwack it broke his rage. "I say, Pinky, lighten up Ol'chap. Life is grand. Coins are arbitrary nonsense." Smiling away, thinking he's done a great job

"IDIOTS. You assaulted a legal entity! They're from Bailiff Bandits & Co. The court appointed debt collectors. The outfits are just for cosplay, Yeezus Grist; you're probably already on the way to a bounty, you dickheads!"

OH BALLS, didn't have that one on the bingo cards… Who the fuck cosplays bandits to collect debts!? Why didn't they wear badges or some shit for identification?" Horace, having heard this, chimed in now. "AH MC WHAT IF they're going to send us to PRISON? MY MOM'S gonna kill me!" Piping up and shaking in his little booties, Dillee gave him an identical thwack to calm down. Horace twinged with pain from the zinging strike and pulled and OO face.

***

Meanwhile in Eccles Ville Magistrates Court. Officer Magz has just returned from his acquisition trip. Pulling in his subordinates via a trailer, along with an assortment of tables, chairs, and even a refrigerator or two from the restaurant. It collapsed into a pile on the floor, and the reception desk operator spoke up, "Officer Wooj! What happened out in the field? The men look atrocious!" Wooj the Bandluchadore spoke up, "Officer Wooj, reporting from case NN-03. The subbos (subordinates) have been assaulted on the job by three adventurers. I need to make a wanted alert. I've got my KAMKORDA footage here; I also wish to join up with El-Sentinators when deployed. Quickly tapping and writing away on various forms and screens, the operator hurried Wooj through.

He walked along the black and white marbled hallways, supported by atmospheric orchestral music played through the building speaker systems, creating a forced sense of drama. All a bit much for street-level crime, but that's bureaucracy for you.

Wooj entered a courtroom where a Big Wig class user sat in the middle, moving around awkwardly on a well-crafted brown wooden chair with green fabric lining to support that massive whig. They were a Scaq, and two smaller yet still overly large Mid Wigs, a Koanei, and a Hankae sat upon smaller, less fine chairs of the same manner.

"Officer Wooj reporting, sirs." Speaking out loud with his hands behind his back. The Bandluchadore seemed to be cosplaying as a soldier. The Big Whig's automatically aligning chair moved it, and its sitter, down below the courtroom ground out of sight. Returning up behind Wooj and continuing up into the ceiling, bouncing slowly back to the middle of the room. "Ah~ yes, Wooj, was it? You're seeking to activate an alert? Which of the squads are you desiring for this? The Big Wigs nasally high-pitched tones would have annoyed the living daylights out of MC and his friends.

"Exactly that, sir. E squad will be fine; these are well below average adventurers. Any higher would be an insult to the individuals operating in the higher tiers."

"Nehuuu~ Consider it done. Off you go now; await the El-Sentinators on the ground floor."

Wooj saluted the Big Wig and turned, walking out of the room. The Koanei Mid Wig spoke up, "Should we really allow them to continue to wear the bandit attire and operate without identification, sir? Her Hankae Mid Wig companion responded in kind, "Don't be stupid, Lawrence. It's been fantastic in getting repayments in quicker over the year. Why would you suggest such a thing?" "The people are already scared of getting attacked on the roads by that nuisance crowd. So why scare them into thinking the bandits are associated with the city council? They don't allow it in the other regions."

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "Quiet, Lawrence, Lorike is right. We've been struggling to keep up with the debt collections. Since BB&CO came on the scene, it's become a thing of the past." But they're also attacking people as they do; it's madness! Lawrence was troubled by the lack of common sense among his colleagues. "Forgive me for speaking up, Cardinal, sir."

***

"Dillee, stop hitting everyone; it's not helping." "As you command, sir." "Norman, how much do you owe now?" He scanned around his status window, hands flapping around midair. "I had 200k left on my loan repayments. Now I owe 50k on a late repayment fee and 250k to the restaurant owner for damaged goods." Hmm, if this guy's out of a job, maybe we can use him to further ourselves.

"Are you in need of a job, or have you got some side hustle going?" I'm hoping he says yes; I just thought of a neat little idea. "I need a job. I have had this debt for years now…why? What are you thinking? I'm not doing anything involving me taking my clothes off again." "Relax. It's a sales job; I don't want to know where your floppy meat sword has been." I turned to the others, hoping they were going to catch my drift. "I got this stuff from THE FAR EAST near my homeland. You can use it to flavour meals, like a family member's shitty cooking. It's worth a fortune, though, so it's important you don't lose it. "Sounds easy enough. Why can't you do it though? What's the catch? This sounds too simple." "To be honest, bud, it's mostly a situational thing. There's another bunch in our party, but they're off elsewhere. All the money-making places are in the cities, and we don't have the time to get there. So, sending someone that can just go around selling it would be a blessing. That being said… Have you got any containers on you? Kind of important we have a lot of those." Norman shook his head. "Don't have anything of the sort."

Can't get all the luck. sighing to my own thoughts. "No worries. You should tag along with us for now. We're trying to finish up a request down south; maybe we can find some containers in one of the beachfront stores." Norman shuddered at the thought, fearing that he may accidentally bump into his ex-wife, kids, and Dave. "Alright… I may have to wait around Yun's Island for personal reasons." "Fine by me." Joined by their temporary companion/future employee to the Drool-empire, or Droolpire as MC is thinking, the trio and a half ventured towards their requestination. Slowly but surely, as they traversed the flattened plains of Erlims Upper, the traces of a beach began to appear at their feet, and scents of salt hung in the air.

"I HATE beaches. The salt gets in all my HAIRY BITS." Horace was not eager to get deeper into the Atoll's. "At least the water's nice, though, eh?"

It had been a while since the party had been to the Tusen Atolls. Richy Frost ran the former guild turned holiday resort Radical Paradiso. The guild members make up the management of each department here…also partially acting as the police for the region.

An unrecognisable Hankae high-ranker escorted a drunken Huum with a conjured whip, dragging him along the floor. Her flip-flops had long since left her as she dragged the idiot onto the Erlim Upper fields away from the Tusen Atoll main bridge. Good person to ask, MC rushed over, having a little brain wave.

"Excuse me, Miss?" She turned and looked down at him, smiling. "Because the customers are probably not right, as they say." Wearing a polo shirt and shorts gotten from some old Terra merchant. "Hi, whatchu want?" "I'm trying to find someone. Uhh…the name is Dr. A. I?" Horace passed MC the request details, and he showed it to the worker. She began to tut and shake her head. "Sorry. You're going to have some trouble getting to that one, I'm afraid to say." They still smiled away at MC, teethy grins becoming annoying things to slap in MC's mind. "Oh? There's been no update on our end. Are they dead or something?" She burst out laughing, Horace and MC looking at each other. Dillee was living his sunny dreams, staring at the sky as the light broke over him. "Oh-ho, that one is in jail!" MC and Horace knew this was about to give them both a headache. Not because of the situation; it's just hot as HELL that far south.

"Better get those legs pumping, lad; we can avoid the heavy sunlight if we go turbo mode." "AH FY FAEN, do we have TO?" "Do you want Rhua to brain you? Horace scoffed at first, then started running ahead of me, shouting "HERREGUD!" scaring some Beaky Bastards lurking on the Rope Bridge.

***

Officer Wooj? Treading the ceiling and dropping down a Swiftsong, Sharpshot, and Duellist covered from head to toe in a bright red fibrous material that seemed to leave nothing to the imagination. The Duelist led the squad and handed Wooj papers. "Are you ready to go, sir? We have their location." They saluted Wooj, though he wasn't paying attention to their gestures.

Wooj examined the paper. Showing the face of Horace on it. Wanted for assault on officers of the legal system. Crudely drawn pictures of MC and Dillee were hand-drawn on, and the writing said, 'Wanted for associating with criminal activity.'

"Are you mocking me, Captain? These have clearly been drawn by hand. I expect better from the department." "Unfortunately, sir, no information exists for him and whatever that thing is. We had to make it as we went along." Standing firm and tall, the words echoed in the hallway. "We have a record of every sentient. That cannot be accurate." Staring at their faces and getting angrier by the second, Wooj barked at the El-Sentinators. "Let's just get this over and done with. I'll be inquiring into the archives post-mission."

Gathered up and ready. The four set off using the Network, a series of hidden passages deep beneath Eccles Ville. The dank smells signal they've descended to a place where fresh air isn't a warm welcome. It's the perfect route to get the jump on a wanted target. The Swiftsong pulled out a harp from their side and spoke to the three of them as they stormed through the long, barely lit passageways, "Our ETA is approximately six hours without aid. I shall activate my Arts to assist us in reaching the destination quicker. "'Deifir Anáil'." Symbols coated the squad during the songs playing.

*Deifir Anáil - Increases movement speed threefold; movement speed penalty resistance increased 25%*

"I admire your tactical thinking Swiftsong." Wooj's voice spread far and wide in the open passageways.

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