>>6121163... A retired bounty hunter you met on a forum. How could you forget Salzburg? At least, that's the name he went by online. Ostensibly he was a bounty hunter of some renown, now living quietly off of his spoils, and he whiled away the days dispensing advice on the Internet. You took a liking to him when you started reading his rambling, cynical-minded posts on Monster Report, a website for monster-spotters and government conspiracy-theorists. Salzburg believed--or rather, he claimed to know with certainty--a number of controversial things about the world. Maybe you should try contacting him? He supposedly still lives in Crossways.
You wait around a few more minutes for your brand-new bounty hunter photo ID to be issued. You brought a passport-sized photo in advance, which is good, because you wouldn’t have wanted to pose for a picture right now. You strongly suspect you look like shit. You wash up in the smelly bathroom and look in the mirror, confirming your suspicions. Still, your shiny ID, now placed in your otherwise-empty wallet, has somehow managed to cheer you up a bit. You walk back out into the street, where the sun has been partially obscured by a passing cloud. A fresh breeze running down the avenue hits you with a wave of pleasure. Perhaps things can only get better from here.
