A large stone building stood in the middle of Spawnharbor. It could be considered as a dungeon like one found under castles, if it weren’t above ground. The locals of the town say that it was made by someone who specialized in stone magic, and that the person was from the first batch of humans to get transported in that world. Though no one knows for sure who and where this person is now, all of the old residents swear that it was made by a single person.

  Roald got intimidated by the structure the first time he saw it. That uneasy feeling grew when he heard the tales that surrounded its origin.

  As of late, however, it was just an ordinary building to him as he went inside it nearly everyday since the three months he’s been in the city. It was where the Town Guards called their home. It also functions as a meeting place for the most influential leaders in the city.

  Today, that uneasiness and intimidation he felt came back to haunt Roald. He had requested an audience from the leaders of Spawnharbor. There was an issue he wanted to bring up. But, among the leaders, Cassandra was one of them.

  “Rejected,” The leader of the Town Guards, Samson, swiftly said.

  Roald had just suggested placing a temporary ban on the sale and purchase of the Murder of Crows’ products until proper research on it and an investigation surrounding the recent deaths linked to it was done. He hadn’t even explained the details of it before his superior cut him off.

  “May I ask why, sir?” Roald kept his tone neutral.

  “What you’re suggesting would halt our city’s biggest provider of work, just because of a few deaths,” Samson sighed, even when he talked calmly, his voice boomed.

  “Those ‘few deaths’ could rise in the future. And, with the majority of the passed being combat-oriented classes, it could weaken our total fighting power. We wouldn’t want that during a time of uncertainty,” Roald explained. He tried to suppress his anger, but it expressed itself as a large vein on his forehead.

  “Pardon for seeming cold and heartless, but that’s a good thing,” one of the other leaders interjected.

  “What?” Roald was taken aback.

  

  “You’ve been with us for a few months now, so you’ve experienced at least one monster invasion event, right?” Samson started. “You’ve only been a Level 10 for a short amount of time. Some of us on this table have been for several years. Fewer manpower would bring the challenge back in those events. And that would be beneficial for the ones with the most potential to learn and develop Skills. Even you’d benefit from this. There’d be less competition,” he said.

  Some of the other leaders on the table chuckled in agreement. Cassandra sat quietly with a steady grin on her face, letting the whole thing play out. Even coming up face to face with her, Roald still felt like she was untouchable. Like a bird up above, observing the chaos below.

  

  “That can’t be right nor ethical,” Roald stood firm.

  “Neither were the early days of societies back in our old world. And, just like back then, we can’t operate without coin,” Samson said.

  Money and power. It was just then that Roald realized those two things were the only things going through their minds.

  “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, this would only last for a few more years. This is what the people currently want, escape. They’ll find a way even if we place a ban now. We can stop this when we have the resources and stability to do so. Oh, and no offense Cassandra, but you understand, right?” The Town Guard commander turned to his side.

  “Of course, commander,” Cassandra smiled at him then turned to face Roald. “This is only a temporary solution in an attempt to raise everyone’s morale. Being trapped in a new world is stressful to a lot of us,” she spoke to him as if she was a mother explaining something to her son..

  “Haha, well said,” Samson laughed and lit a cigarette. The sound of his match igniting told everyone that the meeting was over.

  Outside of the stone building, Dick and the small new recruit sat on the steps leading to the oversized double doors. The rookie immediately stood straight up when he heard their squad leader’s heavy boots slam against the stone tiles.

  “At ease, Mouse,” Roald said.

  “Yes, sir!” The small recruit said.

  “So, was I right?” Dick took a drag from his cigarette.

  

  Roald crushed the cigarette with his bare hands while it was still in Dick’s mouth.

  “You should be upset that you were. It means that this town’s going to need a lot of work before we can call it a proper society. And we’re going to have to do it without the help of the ones with means to do so,” Roald said.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “‘We’?” Dick groaned.

  ***

  Steak collapsed on the ground, panting and slick with sweat. His claws slowly retracted and turned back into regular human nails. However, the skin surrounding it was bruised and bright red.

  

  

  The training dummy made out of Rook’s Mana slowly disintegrated. Pieces of it floated up in the air. After catching his breath, he stood up. Most of the extra weight he carried was gone. Though, he was still a large man. There were strong muscles hidden under a layer of fat.

  “Hey, Rook, I’m gonna need another one,” Steak said.

  The short teen was crouched low to the ground, tinkering with one of his magical machines that helped with their manufacturing process. Without a word or even a glance in Steak’s direction, Rook pointed his wand and drew out a shape in the air. Within a few seconds, a new training dummy flew towards Steak. He had to duck to evade it. It landed near the outskirts of their base.

  “Wouldn’t kill him to talk once in a while,” Steak grumbled.

  It had been like that since they made the deal with Cassandra. Rook became so engrossed with his work that he’d forget to eat and drink for an entire day. The only time he’d open his mouth was whenever they met with Cassandra’s grunt, Haddock, the toothless, when it was time to deliver. Since then, they haven’t even been to Spawnharbor.

  “I’m basically a babysitter,” Steak complained. Taking care of Rook was one of his few responsibilities aside from tending to the plants.

  It was a bit of a walk to reach the location of where the training dummy landed. Thankfully, it landed on top of a bush, preventing it from shattering too soon.

  As he crouched down to pick it up, he felt something wet hit his face. It slid off his face before it fell to the ground. Slowly, he raised his hand to his cheek. With shaky hands, he touched it with the pads of his fingers. But from the smell alone he already had an idea of what it was, he didn’t have to look at his hand to confirm.

  It was shit. Specifically, it was Monkeyhawk droppings. Steak could recognize it from the smell because of the traumatic time he spent with them.

  The Monkeyhawk was up on a tree. Steak surveyed the area and saw no others lurking around. It was alone, which he found uncharacteristic of it.

  “Won’t you guys leave me alone already!” He cried out.

  No laughter. It replied with silence. Not even a twitch or expression. The animal just stared at him. Then, it turned around and urinated on the tree before it flew away.

  “No one really wants to talk to me, eh?” He sighed, somewhat disappointed.

  Not thinking much more of the interaction, Steak went back with the training dummy in his arms. After training his he wanted to learn how to fight with the staff that he made.

  He used his skill on the staff hidden under his robes. He shrunk and shortened it as much as he could, then wrapped it around his forearms like a bracer. He practiced for a while until the deployment time was under a second, popping it out as if something shot out of his robes.

  This way of carrying it also freed up a slot in his inventory. Though, because the staff required at least one hand to use, it would mean that he only had one hand left to use on. If only I could grow a third arm. I could have a lot more options for combat. Maybe a tail could work too, he thought.

  He spent his days like this. After working on the plants, he would go train and teach himself how to fight. The past encounters he had made it clear to him that he was weak when compared to the several nuisances in his life.

  ***

  “Two boxes of pills, and four crates of smokes, as we agreed upon,” Rook said.

  “Here,” Haddock grumbled and reluctantly transferred the Credits to him. The fact that he and Rook were equals now bothered him immensely.

  It was that one day of the week where they met with Cassandra’s grunts in the woods and sold the products. She made this setup in the chance that someone ambitious would gang up and steal from them. However, another reason for this was to keep Rook away from Spawnharbor as much as possible. Should he see the effects of his creations, it could change something within him and make him stop making the drugs.

  Of course, this wasn’t the only security measure Cassandra thought of. Lurking in the shadows, Robin watched the whole thing go down.

  Protecting them wasn’t the only thing she was there for. She also got an order to figure out a way into Rook’s Rest and its exact location.

  Though the past four attempts at stalking them home failed, Robin felt lucky that day. It was because she had a stalker of her own for the first time. A skilled one at that, but not as good as her.

  However, she didn’t take him out despite having several chances to do so. Majority of it was because of her poor judgement, it was also because of her skill that allows her to know what the current objective of her target was. And her stalker’s objective was to observe her, not the transaction happening in front of them.

  It was Mouse’s lucky day as well, despite him not knowing it. While going on the espionage assignment he got from Roald, Mouse got entranced by Robin, who he accidentally noticed. Him being distracted while on the job prevented Robin from killing him.

  “Ah, what the hell. You’re back!?” Steak shouted.

  The two spies directed their attention to the large man. He waved a stick at a Monkeyhawk sitting on a branch.

  “Is your friend alright?” Haddock asked.

  “You know how people with the Druid class are,” Rook sighed.

  “Fucking tree-hugging hippie,” Haddock spat on the ground.

  The transaction was done, so the two parties went their separate ways. The Monkeyhawk still followed Steak though. Seeing that it was done, Mouse went on his way as well in the fear that he might get spotted next. Robin stood up from her hiding spot and stretched.

  “Everyone’s got a stalker today, huh?” she said.

  It was now time for her to attempt to pinpoint Rook’s base of operations. However, it didn’t take her long to get hit by the bout of confusion and lose track of them.

  “Dang, I really thought that today was the day,” she threw a tantrum.

  After a few steps of walking forward, she found herself back at the location where the deal happened. It was when she regained her sense of direction that she felt something off about one of her skills . The Monkeyhawk that bothered Steak was nowhere to be found. She smacked her head.

  “That fake bird isn’t affected by whatever spell afflicts this area. It only works on humans,” she said in a serious tone.

  She ran back to town to report the discovery to Cassandra.