Blake breathed in the musty scent of old wood and assorted knick-knacks as he stepped into the gift shop, a quaint place crammed with trinkets, local art, and the kind of souvenirs you only find in small towns. The gentle tinkling of a bell announced his entrance, and the shop's owner, a burly man in his late forties with a thick beard and a wide-brimmed hat, looked up from behind the counter.
"Hey there, partner!" the man called out in a thick Southern drawl. "Welcome to Brixy’s finest gift shop! I got a whole lotta junk to sell, or we can just chat if you fancy that."
Blake approached the counter, keen to find out more. "I was actually wondering if you could help me. I’m looking for someone named Laylah."
The shopkeeper’s eyes widened, and he leaned in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Laylah? Well, you ain't the first to ask ‘bout her, that’s for sure. She’s a local legend ‘round these parts. One of the best bounty hunters in the underground."
"Underground?" Blake repeated, intrigued.
The man's face took on a more serious expression as he continued, "Yeah, the crime scene ain’t exactly a walk in the park. You know how folks here can be—they take crime real seriously. Might even say they thrive on it. And you know what they say: ‘You don’t wanna be on the wrong side of the law here.’"
Blake narrowed his eyes, the weight of those words settling in. "How do you mean?"
"Well," the shopkeeper replied, glancing around the shop as if ensuring no one else was listening, "just a few days back, Laylah walked in here, lookin’ for someone who fits your description. Said she was trackin’ down a 'stranger in town'—sounds like that might be you. I’d watch your back if I were you."
Blake felt a shiver crawl up his spine. "What if I just… don’t want any trouble?"
The shopkeeper shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "That’s the thing about Brixy—you can want all the peace and quiet you like, but trouble tends to find you, anyway. Best be prepared, if you catch my drift. Now, you looking for anything special to help you out? Got some charms, protective amulets, or even a nifty little knife if you’re feelin’ brave."
Blake paused, considering his options. "Maybe just a charm. What do you recommend?"
The shopkeeper nodded, his hands moving expertly among the items on the counter. "This here is a ‘keep your enemies close’ charm. Helps you sense trouble before it hits you. Fancier than it sounds, I promise!"
"Sure, I'll take one," Blake said, sliding some cash across the counter.
The shopkeeper chuckled as he wrapped up the charm. "Good choice! Just remember, keep your wits about you. And if Laylah catches wind that you're up to something, well… good luck with that, friend."
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