him for lunch if he didn't comply. Narrowing his eyes, Ragnarok took his blade away from the man's throat and re-sheathed it. Turning away from the man, he headed for the door, dragging his cargo behind him as he did, leaving many a rip and rut in the carpet. The last he heard of the manager was his cries of shock, probably at the loss of his perfect floor. Whatever, the pirate captain had hunting to do. He exited the gambling house, and by the time he had left all eyes were on him. Now outside once again, standing in the island sun, Ragnarok grew restless. Where was he? He surely wasn't at the medical facility, the gambling house manager would have known if he was. He wouldthe gypsies were right, and they were seldom wrong, this would be at long last the opportunity that Ragnarok had been waiting for for so long. He would not be denied the simple pleasure of ending this mans' life with fire and gore, he would not.

By the time the bounty hunter had managed to drag himself unsteadily to his feet, he was utterly fuming. Each exhaled breath was punctuated with a violent shiver, and each violent shiver was punctuated with a large puff of smoke from Morrigan's cigarette. His pistol was now utterly useless; as he took a shaky step forwards, water flowed freely from the barrel, tainting the already dirty water with black gunpowder.

''Well?'' Morrigan said, his tone bored. It spoke volumes about how interesting his life