Bounty Regression: Wanted!

The bar’s door creaked as they stepped inside. The smell hit immediately, cheap liquor, stale smoke, and a faint tang of something worse. Half-drunk men muttered in the corners, eyes darting toward the new arrivals. A scrawny man behind the bar squinted at them, his face tight. “You… can’t be in here,” he said, voice clipped. Asumi let out a soft laugh, leaning casually against the counter. “Oh, really?” she said, eyes glinting. “Because if I wanted to… I could make your life really difficult.”
The bartender flinched, muttering under his breath, clearly trying to stay out of trouble. Then the air shifted. From behind the counter, a tall, broad figure stepped forward, dreadlocks swinging down his neck. Even in a bar like this where shouting, fights, and spilled drinks were everyday noise, his presence made everything feel heavier.
“Who’s threatening my bartender?” His deep southern voice rumbled across the room, calm but impossible to ignore. Zhenyu froze. He knew the voice, his Father. His stomach twisted.
“…Dad,” he muttered under his breath. Lytle Mori’s sharp eyes scanned the room, landing on the three of them. A slow smile tugged at his lips. “I see my son finally decides to visit his pops.” Said Lytle jokingly. “I haven't seen you since you left for the academy. You had me worried that you died on a mission.”
Zhenyu’s jaw tightened. Every time he saw his father, he felt that same mix of unease. Lytle had a way of cornering him, trying to reveal secrets about the family, about the truth of their clan. Things Zhenyu wanted to hear only from his mother, as promised, but wasn’t there anymore.
Tatsuchi’s eyes flicked toward Lytle, narrowing slightly. The air between them shifted. “Funny seeing you here,” Lytle said, voice flat but cool.
His grin widened, sharp and knowing. “Still full of fire.” He paused, letting the words hang. “I remember, back in Rocspirit, two years ago. You toppled my underground fighting arena. You weren’t supposed to win, you know.”
Tatsuchi’s lips twitched, but she didn’t look away. “I know.”
“I was making more money than I ever had in my life. And when I saw you, I knew I couldn't go quietly,” Lytle said, chuckling low. “You put down your sword and put up your dukes, and fought hard. Even after a long night, and a lot of bruises later, you won. I wasn’t mad.” He leaned forward slightly, gaze locking on her. “I was proud. Proud that the next generation could stand up for themselves, even at your age.” Tatsuchi’s purple eyes flicked toward him, assessing.“…I appreciate that.” Tatsuchi said quietly. 
“Don’t let it go to your head.” Tatsuchi laughed, “Too late.”
Asumi, still beefing with the bartender, stepped forward with her badge in hand. She held it up beneath the lantern light, the golden Kusuri sigil catching the glow. “See this?” she said, voice light but deadly. “Thirteenth Gate Guard. I am allowed in. And if anyone tries to cause trouble-”
The words hung. Lytle’s smile softened slightly, but there was a gleam of respect in his eyes as he placed his heavy hand on her shoulder to signify her to stop.
“Alright, alright. Fine, you can have whatever you want. But son…” He gave Zhenyu a pointed look.“…we’ll talk later. When the time’s right.” Zhenyu let out a shaky breath “Of course.”
The bartender, seeing the tension ease, nodded quickly. “Anything you want,” he said nervously, reaching for glasses. Asumi smirked, slipping the badge back into her coat.
“Well, we just got here. Hope that’s okay.” Lytle gave a small, low chuckle. “For now. Don’t break my place, and we’ll all get along just fine.” The bartender’s eyes widened, a bead of sweat forming at his temple. 
“Good. I like it when people cooperate.” Zhenyu muttered under his breath, “Cooperate… yeah, that’s one way to put it.”
Tatsuchi, Asumi, and Zhenyu sat at a crooked wooden booth shoved into the back of the bar. A single lamp illuminates a mess of documents spread between them. Tatsuchi leans back in her chair, one foot casually propped on the table, flipping through bounty sheets like it’s a magazine.The expressions on her face are too happy for someone reading people's kills notice.
The papers were spread across the table like a deck of cards. Zhenyu flipped one over, squinting at the faded portrait. “This one’s dead.” Asumi leaned in, shadow curling along the edge of the table. “Too clean. That face hasn’t moved in years.”
Zhenyu slid it aside. “Five Yorin says buried somewhere shallow.” Tatsuchi snorted. “Make it ten.” Another photo. Older. Smiling too wide. Asumi tilted her head. “Alive. For now.” Zhenyu tapped the corner of the page. “Disappeared three years ago. No ransom. No body.” “Kept,” Tatsuchi said. “Someone’s holding him.” They moved down the list, one face at a time. 

Dead.

Alive.

Missing.

Missing but not forgotten.

Missing but forgotten.

Small bets stacked up in coins and comments, grim guesses passed around like jokes no one fully believed were jokes. 

Then Tatsuchi stopped.  Her fingers froze on the next sheet. She slowly lifted the photo. Her own face stared back at her. It was her. Her hair was tied up in that messy bun she never bothered fixing, loose strands escaping no matter how many times she tried to tame them. One stubborn lock hung in front of her face, exactly where it always did, refusing to stay tucked away. Her purple eyes stared out from the page, sharp and unimpressed, like she’d already decided whoever was holding the photo wasn’t worth her time. Her shirt was half-buttoned, just like always. Not sloppy enough to be accidental. Not neat enough to be proper. She could almost hear it. 

Button your shirt. 

Sit properly.

You’re a noblewoman.

Her father’s voice. Zhenyu’s annoyed sighs. The same old complaints about how unladylike she was, how she carried herself like she didn’t care who was watching.

It captured her exactly as she was. For a moment, it felt like the image was staring back at her, judging her, measuring her, memorizing her. The noise of the bar faded. Zhenyu noticed first. “…Tatsu?” She didn’t answer. Asumi leaned over her shoulder, then went still. “…Huh.” Tatsuchi tightened her grip on the paper. “So,” she said quietly, eyes locked on her own face,

“Guess I’m still alive.”

The photo didn’t blink. But it felt like it knew her. Asumi leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Her shadow stretched across the floor. Tatsuchi sat at the table, staring at the papers, fingers gripping them too hard. Her usual grin wasn’t there. Nothing. Just silence. Zhenyu shook his head. “This isn’t about who put the bounty out,” he said quietly. “We need to figure out why.” Asumi picked up a sheet, holding it under the lantern. She frowned at the number. “…Tatsuchi Kuroainaru, alive, over two million Yorin.” Her eyes didn’t leave the paper. “That’s not just money. Someone wants this to move. Big time.” Zhenyu’s jaw tightened. “Bounties like this don’t go through normal channels. Not publicly. Only through fixers, smugglers, and underground people.” Asumi’s shadow flicked across the table. “People who deal in things no one talks about. Nobles vanish, money changes hands, and the world just pretends it didn’t happen.” Zhenyu mutters a name, almost under his breath.
“Tomidoru.”
The name hung there. One of the five great clans of the Land of the Birds. Shunned. Known for underground trading and keeping track within organized crime. No one wants to touch them, but everyone fears what they control. Tatsuchi finally looked up. Her purple eyes were sharp, calculating, and afraid. It wasn’t just the bounty itself. It wasn’t the money. It was the message.
To the Kusuri, her family, her friends, even to the leaders of the other four lands this was proof. That no matter how high you stand, even on the world stage, you aren’t untouchable. That even someone like her, someone on top, could be hunted.
“Someone put this on me,” she said slowly, voice tight, “it’s not random. They must want something. And they could want me involved since it says "Only Alive.” Asumi met her gaze. “Then we don’t just ask who placed it. We find out why.”
Zhenyu nodded. “Exactly. Figure out why, and we figure out what to do next.” The lantern flickered. And for the first time that night, none of them felt in control. Then Asumi freezes, eyes widening. She finds a second sheet.
 “The Sun Monarch, 1.5 billion Yorin?” Even the lousy drunks in the background go quiet when that name is spoken. Everyone knows the weight behind it. Tatsuchi's face sits, spinning her chair around.
 “...”
Zhenyu slams the sheet on the table. “This is insane, your father, the strongest man alive, hasn't even been able to track him down.” Asumi steps forward, voice sharp but steady.
 “The Monarchs aren't just powerful, they're feared. Putting a bounty on one of them is always to be seen by some as a declaration” Tatsuchi’s calm expression drops. Her eyes harden. 
“Someone’s testing the waters with the government.” said Tatsuchi. Zhenyu digs deeper through the stack of names until the last paper falls onto the table with a soft thud. Asumi ran a hand over her face. “So… the Tomidoru are behind this?” Tatsuchi shook her head slowly.“Not directly. But they’re involved. And if you know the rules of the underworld, this… this is their way of sending a message.”
Tatsuchi’s purple eyes flicked between them, dark and sharp. “A message.” “Yes,” Zhenyu said, leaning forward. “And they don’t strike at nobles. That would be suicide. But they do operate in a way that forces respect.” Zhenyu frowned. “Respect… or fear?” 

“Both,” Asumi said. Tatsuchi reached for another sheet, one smaller, hidden within her pants pocket. “The Tomidoru, as a sign of good grace, allows anyone of royal blood or high lineage into Hades Vault.” Zhenyu and Asumi’s brow rose.

“Hades Vault?”

“Their secure vault,” Tatsuchi explained. “Extremely protected. Only accessible to the few who count themselves ‘worthy.’ Most people think it’s just a private club. But it’s where they keep everything, all their information, records, contracts, secrets. At least 87% of the underworld runs through there, organized and more or less untouchable, practically hidden in plain sight.” Zhenyu leaned back in his chair. “So the Tomidoru are saying… what? We can go in? But only because of your blood?”
“Exactly,” Tatsuchi said, voice calm but sharp. “It’s a privilege… and a warning. They’re letting us see what they want us to see."
Tatsuchi clenched her fists, eyes narrowing. “…Then we go. We find out everything. Why this bounty exists, who’s pulling the strings, and why it’s my name on the list.” Asumi gave a small nod.
“And we do it carefully,” Said Tatsuchi, “Hades Vault isn’t a playground.. One wrong move and you’re done for.” Tatsuchi’s lips curved into a tight, determined smile.
“All I need,” she said, voice low, “is one call. Just one call to the clan head. Let that trickster know I’m on my way.” Zhenyu glanced at her, half impressed, half worried.
“…You really just take that kind of risk?” Her smile didn’t waver. “Risk is the only way they’ll take me seriously.” The lantern above flickered, casting long shadows across the table and their faces. The list of the top twenty people who put hit on others. And at the number one spot:
 “…Here. A name.” “Forest Kyōga.”
 “I’ve never heard of that name,” says Tatsuchi as she stands, chair scraping back harshly. “Only a person at the top of that type of list would have the guts to put a hit on a noble like myself” “He's probably a nobody. If we leave now we can make it back to the capital and ask my Mother for unofficial access to the records room to make sure my invitation is still secure.”
Asumi’s gaze sharpens like a drawn blade. “You know how your mom would react to something like this. What are you planning to do? If he’s coming after you, he could be connected to something, like the Revolutionary Army. And rumors say that they're backed by one of the Monarchs.”
Tatsuchi’s fists clench. Her eyes spark like blood.
“Then I’m gonna drag him out.”