“Boy, you return so quickly, I never know you are a fast walker,” Nash commented. 

“Couldn’t say that I didn’t rush getting here,” I said. 

I didn’t take the ordinary road route. Instead, I took the route through the desert, which turned out to be a rather dangerous gamble. I wanted to test my automatic receiver on those fire ants, but looking at their numbers, I retracted that idea immediately and opted to just sneak past them for the sake of safety. 

No, I didn’t kill any of them, since it was all too risky for me. I didn’t want to return with a burned face to Mojave Express because of my dumb mistake. So, here I was, arriving at Mojave Express, safe and sound. 

Nash put 500 caps on top of the counter. I picked up all of those caps and I put them on my Pip-Boy inventory. I sat down on the nearby chair, tired after being chased by fire ants across the deserts. They didn’t catch me, but it was too much of a close call. 

BAM!

I was startled by the sound of someone slamming the door. I stood up, wanting to get him some lessons. However, just before I stood up from the chair, I knew that I would be better off sitting down. It was the weird Courier again, standing tall with its braided hairs. 

“I came here, for another package.” This courier really had a way to intimidate people, especially with its heavy voice. 

“Alright there, young man, here you go,” Nash said as he put the package on top of the counter. 

The mysterious courier picked up the package. “This Package. It’s for New Reno, isn’t it? West territory. It would be a long road.”

“Yeah, that’s quite far down the road.”

“Thank you.” The courier walked away from the counter,

Suddenly, Nash, for no apparent reason but to joke, said, “Why don’t you cut that braided hairs of yours? You looked like a hobo.”

The courier stood still. I felt the tension in the air. To put into perspective, this man was taller than me, showing the bulging muscle mass from both of his arms thanks to the coat that he cut up to his shoulders. Now, Nash, this boss of mine, decided to insult him. I wouldn’t even start by mentioning the 12.7mm submachine gun that he carried on his back. 

He walked to the old man, he slammed both of his arms onto the table. 

BAM!

“Who are you, who dares to insult someone’s else history?”

Nash startled, even recoiled to the point where he retreated back to the wall, I hoped this bloody courier don’t start spraying its bullets at everyone inside of Mojave Express. 

“These braids speak words. Each braid has its own meaning. And you dare to insult my tribe history, insulting the people of my tribe, insulting ME.” He didn’t sound angry, but there was an attacking tone in each of his words. I hoped he didn’t think that picking up his 12.7 submachine gun was a good idea. 

I gulped down. This man was the exact definition of fear. I wouldn’t even dare to rise my tone in front of him. Why was this man so intimidating? And why was he so angry about it? I held the chair where I was sitting firmly. 

The courier then left Mojave Express, leaving me in confusion and Nash in fear. That courier had instilled the fear of a demon in Nash. Nash fell down to the ground after that courier left, from fear alone. Why would he insult him anyway?

I immediately approached the old man, trying to calm him down from that last encounter with that courier. Who was that courier? Was it the protagonist of this world? He had all of this aura of a protagonist. However, Nash was too startled. 

“Mr. Nash, are you ok?” I asked as I helped him to stand up. 

“I shouldn’t have done that, definitely regret it now. I’m too old for this,” Nash said. 

“Well, I agree with the fact that you shouldn’t have done that in the first place, Mr. Nash. Still, who the hell was that courier? Why didn’t you refuse him outright?” I asked. 

“Refuse him? Are you crazy? That courier keeps coming and coming, and why don’t you fight him when he was against me?” 

“Because it’s your fault for insulting him,” I said. 

“Fine, I got it coming,” Nash said. 

“Hmm, I feared that this person is more dangerous than I initially thought. Anyway, thanks for the money. I doubt that I’d need to get more jobs for now. Hmm, can I sleep at the hotel again?” I asked. 

“Sure thing, I don’t own the hotel, for god’s sake. Old Laurie owned it,” Nash said. 

“Alright, Mr. Nash, thanks for the money.”

“Yeah, yeah, come back later.”