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The receptionist finally peeled her eyes away from the worrisome sight on the counter and focused on the stranger before her. Everything about the young man before her was strange. It wasn\'t just his clothes or the coldness in his eyes, it was also his composure.

The way he carried himself that suggested the fact that he was in control. It wasn\'t haughtiness, no, it was confidence. A certain confidence that was rooted in something deep. The stranger hadn\'t spoken a word yet, so she broke the silence with a simple greeting.

"Good day to you stranger."

He nodded back at her.

Not surprised that he wasn\'t much of a talker, she pushed further with a question;

"Are you here alone or do you have any partners?"

He simply shook his head. From the receptionist\'s point of view, she saw a cold stranger who wasn\'t much of a talker. But it wasn\'t like that.

Xzavier\'s recent experience with the people of this town showed him that he was better off saying less. He knew that he would have to speak at some point in time, but he preferred to drag it out as long as he could.

The receptionist wasn\'t just trying to make conversation, she was actually asking for his partners because she found it difficult to believe that he could pull off a feat like killing off a Cheetah on his own. In these parts, men usually hunted in groups.

To think that this stranger had succeeded in doing what usually took up to six men to accomplish…her imagination was running wild.

"Just who is this guy?" she thought.

Xzavier was excellent at reading people and situations. In addition to his perfect situational awareness, he also possessed a remarkable degree of social intelligence.

He could tell that the receptionist was having a little bit of internal conflict because of him. He knew that he had to speak up and clear the air, else, he would run the risk of being thought of as a dud. He cleared his voice and spoke in a clear strong tone.

"In reply to your original question, I am here alone and I am here to sell this head."

His suave tone surprised her. Although she didn\'t voice it out, she was very much astonished by the fact that he alone had killed off the beast. So deliberated on it for a while before she decided to proceed with the transaction.

"Okay. We can do business. Hold on a bit while I go fetch your payment."

She didn\'t allow Xzavier to say anything before she dashed off into the back room. He was a bit surprised by how smooth the transaction was going. He had half expected a whole lot of back and forth before settling on a fair price.

But needless to say that he was well pleased in the direction it was heading. He thought it a bit odd that she hadn\'t asked for his price, but he shrugged it off. Maybe the prices for these things were fixed in these parts. He relaxed a bit as he waited for her to return.

And that was when trouble began to rear its ugly head. Ironically, it was precisely because of the ugly head that was on the receptionist\'s counter. The strange sight had attracted the attention of some of the unsavory characters in the tavern.

Behind him, Xzavier began to hear some sporadic laughter. He knew it was targeted at him, so he ignored them. They made loud comments about youths these days and how cocky they were getting.

To his hearing, they joked about how the Cheetah must have been already dead when he came up on it. They also made remarks about how it seemed like \'this guy\' had stolen the cheetah\'s head and put it on full display, just so the world could see him and applaud him.

Behind him, they called him all sorts of names that was synonymous with delinquent and fraud.

Through it all, Xzavier said nothing. He remained silent and kept his head down. The punks were not happy with the fact that he had ignored them so blatantly.

When they saw that he had stubbornly kept his back turned to them, one of them swaggered over to where he was. He positioned himself directly opposite Xzavier and stared him for minutes on end without saying a word.

Xzavier refused to acknowledge his presence. He ignored him so hard that the other guy began to question his own existence. But inwardly, Xzavier prayed the man would leave him alone. He didn\'t want to get into it right now.

"These people…" Xzavier thought to himself; "What is it with these people and staring?"

When the uncultured swine decided he had had enough, he opened his mouth to reveal a set of crooked brown teeth and asked Xzavier sarcastically;

"Say, where did a youth like yourself get such a fine prize eh?"

The corners of his mouth twisted into a crooked smile, and with a wicked glint in his eye, he asked him another sarcastic question;

"Or… did you nick it? C\'mon tell us! We\'re dying to know already."

Xzavier remained cool as ice. He didn\'t say a word. He considered it beneath him to get involved with low ranking scum whose greatest achievement was becoming a local champion.

Also, it wasn\'t just that, the fact was Xzavier took great pride in being a soldier. His mantra was; follow orders and complete missions.

Simple. Anything outside of that didn\'t interest him. Not one bit. Getting into trouble was way outside of his purview. It wasn\'t his style at all. Also, Xzavier simply didn\'t care. Not one bit.

The other man shifted uncomfortably. This wasn\'t how he thought it would go down. His initial plan had been to come over here to bully the young man, and yet, he had met a cold steely youth instead of an edgy inexperienced boy. He glanced back at his friends and saw they were still laughing.

He knew that he couldn\'t embarrass himself, so his ego took over and resorted to the tricks of the rabble rouser. Raising his voice to the highest volume, he spoke loudly to the hearing of everyone;

"FOLKS!" He cried at the top of his voice;

"Take a look at this cocky lad! He looks like he is barely twenty years old, and yet, he claims to have killed a CHEETAH!"

He emphasized on the last part with as much contempt as he could muster. As a professional punk, he had mastered the art of crowd psychology. The jeering crowd was already on his side, so he pressed on;

"Now, we all know killing a Cheetah is no small feat…"

As he spoke, he moved around making hand gestures.

"But we all know that it should take at least five to ten strong men to accomplish this feat."

The crowd murmured in agreement. The punk shot his finger into the air dramatically as he dropped his next fact;

"And yet, this punk claims to have done this all by himself!"

The punk\'s friends, and the others whose eyes were on him growled in laughter. His head swelled with pride. Glad that he had successfully turned the wave against the stranger, he looked at him from the corner of his eyes hoping to see the young man panicking.

But to his uttermost surprise, he was still as cool and as suave as he was a few minutes before. He cursed underneath his breath as he thought to himself.