Advent Of A Gunslinger

“A warnin’?” the minotaur questioned with a bit more intensity in his voice, “About what?”

“...My supervisor--your former boss, Rongu--you remember him, yes?”

“Tch...the dragon...whatta’bout him?”

Mio would lean forward next, doing his best to stay calm as he explained himself. “Well, there’s no easy way to say this. But it’s entirely likely that your life is in danger now. And I don’t want to see an innocent person lose their life unnecessarily. You have no part in this, and--”

It was a tough sell. Tony wasn’t sure who or what to believe at this point. Seeing someone die didn’t exactly inspire the highest level of comfort when it came to trying to survive.

“I already thought about that, boy,” said the minotaur, “Hence why I quit my job. I’m gonna head out on my own and find a better place to stay whenever my daughter wants to visit. I appreciate your warning, but you need to consider just how much longer you intend to stay in this game.”

Fortunately, the tom was a critical thinker, and was already a step ahead. “Trust me, I already have. But I believe that there is room for change in this forsaken hellhole. I just have to be the first to step up to the plate and make it happen. If I don’t, then I’m sure as shit that no one else will.”

Tony fell silent once more, and sat back in his chair. He turned his head, and looked out of the window with a lonesome, sad frown on his face.

Mio couldn’t help but feel worried. “...Sir?”

It would be at least thirty seconds before Tony spoke again. “...Tell me, boy,” he said in a solemn tone, “Do you ever think about death?”

“...Death.” Mio leaned forward, and stared at the floor. “Yes.”

“What does it mean to you? Is it as important as life?”

“...Tis a fickle subject, I’ll admit,” the tom went on, albeit hesitantly. “There is no one way to look at the meaning of either. But I am a firm believer in the concept of playing one’s hand to gain an advantage.”

The minotaur chuckled. “Well now. You play the tables, boy?”

“Not recently. Table games have become predictable for my tastes. But moreover, I think it’s important to utilize all of the cards one has access to at any given moment.” He folded his arms. “In a place like this, it’s the only way you’ll be able to evade the cold, desperate claws of death.”

“Hm…” Tony remained silent for a moment as he thought to himself. “And here I thought that all these gangsters thought and acted the same. But if this...Mio here is serious about what he wants to do, then there may be hope yet.”

Mio stayed silent also. He didn’t want to be rude and interrupt the gentletaur’s thought process.

After a minute or two, Tony would finally speak up. “Do what you can, Mio. But don’t stick your neck out too far. You may just get decapitated.”

“...Allow me to grant you one nugget of info,” Mio explained, “We have a train shipment of materials coming in the day after tomorrow. My dragon manager is going to be too focused on that to bother keeping track of you. So that will provide you the most apt escape time.”

This surprised Tony, but it made sense. Mio had shown himself to have much higher standards compared to those of his peers. “I see...I think I just might go at that time,” he replied.

“Thank the gods.” Mio would breathe a mental sigh of relief. “Thank you. Do you...happen to know where you’ll go once you leave here?”

The older minotaur chuckled. “Hm. Yes, I do. I have quite a few places in mind. But for obvious reasons, I’m not going to reveal that. Don’t wanna take risks I’m not prepared to handle. Although, I do trust that you’ll make the right decisions. You’re vastly more intelligent than the rest of those folks that you’ve worked with.”

Whether or not he was intelligent couldn’t decide the fate of the region on its own. It’s own one applied their intellect that mattered. For Mio, it was a matter of keeping himself out of trouble long enough to make his move, and change the course of Klugetown.

He got up from the couch. “Thank you. But I’m hoping that I can put my mental skill towards fixing what has been wrong with this place for so long…” He looked at the floor, then up at the walls, “...So many wasted lives...and those ponies…”

Tony rose from his chair, and took a step towards the tom. “Everything alright, boy?”

“I’m fine…” he replied with a shaky tone, “Just promise me that you’ll stay safe. Alright, old-timer?”

“HA-HA! As if anything can hurt me,” the bull man proudly boasted, flexing his muscles, “You may not know this, but I was a strongtaur in my youth before I--”

Crick!

Tony must have pulled a muscle in the wrong direction as he flexed. His back was stuck in a hunched-over position. “Agh! Dammit, there goes the back…”

Mio quickly ran over to check on him. “Are you okay, sir? Do you need medical attention?”

“N-no, n-no. I’m f-fine,” he insisted despite the clear strain in his voice, “This happens all the time. Just gotta…” He placed his hands behind his back.

“Here, let me help you.” Mio wasn’t going to let him suffer like that and not do something about it. He placed a paw on the minotaur’s chest. “Push on yourself slowly--I’ve got you.”

With a few more cricks of his bones, the minotaur was standing upright once more. “Ack! Shit--that never gets no easier for me. Ever since the 87th Annual Summer Mixed Strongtaur Contest I partook it, my back ain’t never been the same…”

Mio looked around and noticed a photograph next to a lamp. It was a portrait containing three minotaurs. One of which held a trophy. “...Is that…?”

Tony walked over, and picked it up. It was a photograph that contained a young Tony wearing a red jersey--front and center--holding a first place trophy. To his left was a thin, charcoal-dark female minotaur, and on his shoulders was a child minotaur wearing a matching red jersey that went along with her father’s. “Yup indeed. My wife and daughter...I had lifted the weights so hard that day that my back was permanently injured,” he said with a longing sigh, “...took home the gold, but promised to never compete again.”

“I see...you have a wonderful-looking family,” Mio commented as he inspected the picture. Then he put two and two together. The reason why the gentletaur settled down to become a chef in the first place. “...You sought the culinary arts to be closer to your family, I presume?”

“...pretty much,” Tony replied, “Though, my woman passed away not long after. Made me hold onto my child that much more. Didn’t want her to suffer in this world, you know?” There was a bit of silence for a moment. He placed the picture down, and wiped his face. “Sorry...shouldn’t get like this. Anyway, I learned’ta let go of my daughter and allow her to do her own things. Taught her everything I know--so she can take care of herself.”

“This man has too much to live for,” Mio thought to himself, “If he were to die in the crossfire, it would be another life needlessly lost. I refuse to let that happen.”

“You alright, boy?” Tony asked. “...He’s probably shaken up. Hope he's okay."

Mio had folded his arms, and looked down the whole time. “...Hm? Sorry, I just...was lost in thought for a second. You’re a great man, and clearly want what’s best for your daughter.”

“Well, I wouldn’t use great as a word, but…” That’s when he had an idea. “Say, I know just the way to ease the tension. How’s about a bowl of snapper stew? You like fish, don’tcha?”

Mio’s tail flicked and his eyes sparked ever so slightly. “...Woah, hang on--there’s no need to--”

But Tony had already made his way to the kitchen. “Relax yourself, boy. I figure I may as well perform one last act of goodwill before I leave this place.”

There was nothing left that Mio could say. He didn’t want to be rude, so he gave up. His original intent was to have left by this point, but he had no choice but to stay. “...Argh. The man has offered me food. I can’t very well refuse. But after that, I need to go.”

With that in mind, Mio would sit down at the dinner table once Tony had finished preparing a bowl of fish soup for him. Upon the first slurp of the broth, the tom’s eyes lit up.

“This is amazing,” he remarked as he started to eat the fish, “Wherever you go, I hope you open a successful eatery run on your own time. I think I’d pay a visit.”

Tony chuckled, and looked away for a moment. “...Maybe. Someday. But for now, I’m just glad to be free of that place.”

Once Mio had finished the soup, he got up from the table, and prepared to make his exit.

“Well...that was great, sir,” he walked over to the coat rack to grab his suit, “But I have to get going soon.”

The minotaur would walk him out to the door. “I understand. Now what was that you said about a train?”

“Ah, yes. Today is Friday--the train is scheduled to arrive on Sunday at about noon,” Mio explained as he put his suit on. “I recommend gathering up everything you need tonight, and head on out of Klugetown by around 11AM or so.”

“I see. Thank you. And hey,” Tony placed a hand on Mio’s shoulder. “You’re a good kid, alright? Don’t let nobody else tell you otherwise.”

Mio made eye contact with the minotaur, and tried his best to smile back. “...Yes, sir. Thank you for the meal.”

Tony let him go, and opened the door for him. “Have a good day now, yeah? See ya soon?”

“I will, sir,” the tom said as he exited the home, and started to walk down the steps, “Good luck, and good-bye for now.”

He walked down the steps as he heard the door shut behind him. Mio then took careful surveillance of the area to ensure that no one had been eavesdropping or followed him there.

“If that dragon bastard tries anything, it’ll be his cards on the line. Not mine.”