A lump formed in my throat as Viessa and I followed Eamon down a hall past a row of private offices, and descended a spiral staircase that led to an expansive sparring arena in the guild's basement.

  The arena was a simple dirt circle, with interspersed benches stationed along the sides. Lit torches surrounded the desolate space, casting shadows across the exhibition grounds. I kept my eyes locked on Eamon's back, preparing for a possible sneak attack.

  “Kora informed me you won't be selling your chaos shard,” Eamon said, even his voice conveying power.

  “Is this the part where you threaten me?”

  Eamon cracked a wry smile. “No, you'll receive enough of those after the newsletter is published this afternoon. If you die before paying the tax, it will become the guild's property and be auctioned off. All I can offer is friendly advice.”

  “Your wisdom is just echoing what everyone else has already told me.”

  Eamon stepped into the arena and cracked his neck. “Then you should listen to your friends.”

  “I don't have any of those,” I said.

  “Sounds like you do. They gave you solid advice and refrained from driving a blade into your back. Weapons or hand-to-hand?”

  “Hand-to-hand.”

  “Let's begin.”

  Viessa stood at the arena's edge, watching us intently as we entered the training grounds.

  I stood 20 yards across from Eamon. An immense aura radiated off the level 13 vice-captain, who was simply standing there with his hands in his pockets. Yet, approaching him felt impossible. Alarm bells rang in my head.

  If I attack him head-on, I'll die.

  “I rarely test C rankers myself. But not only are you still breathing, you cleared an anomaly of a dungeon and obtained a chaos shard!” Eamon shouted as he charged.

  His speed went from zero to sixty in a second, barreling toward me like I was a traffic cone and he was an 18-wheeler keen on smashing me into tiny plastic bits.

  Agility Burst.

  I threw myself to the side, barely evading the blitz. Kicked up dust entered my lungs as Eamon turned on his heels.

  “I've been meaning to ask who posted that godforsaken contract,” I said, awaiting his next move. “I still haven't gotten Soul Viper's fangs out of my ass.”

  Eamon pulled a handful of steel balls out of his pocket as adrenaline surged through my veins.

  He rolled them in his palm like a set of deadly Baoding balls. “I approved the contract as a favor. I wasn't shocked when I heard a foreigner accepted it. Anyone with the slightest pulse on the sociopolitical scene would've rebuked that gig in a heartbeat.”

  A steel ball whistled through the air at a blistering pace. I ducked, feeling the cool metal wick past my ear. As the second and third ball flew in tandem, I spun myself forward, deadening their momentum with the twirl of my cape. The steel balls clinked, bouncing across the ground as I stared down Eamon.

  Balls five through ten came consecutively, high then low, his aim tracing after me as I tucked into a side roll. Deciphering his intentions was like trying to solve Sudoku on acid. Considering the level gap, he could've already killed me. But if he didn't want me dead, why the fuck was I still dodging bullets?

  “What's your point?”

  Eamon retrieved another handful of steel balls from his pocket. With each word he spoke, he flicked one in my direction. “A rumor surfaced from a credible source that a noble was backing Drayvoss.”

  Sonofabitch. He said hand-to-hand!

  There were too many projectiles coming too fast. I threw myself aside, using every remaining second of Agility Burst to escape the barrage. A single projectile tore into my thigh's sinew, nestling itself against the bone.

  Pain radiated outward like a web of fire. My nerves screamed in protest as I crashed face first on the ground, trying to regain my footing.

  “We knew there'd be some blow back from whoever was backing Drayvoss.”

  “You expected me to die,” I said, forcing myself to my feet.

  “Your death would've given us the justification we needed to launch our own investigation. The guild isn't allowed to meddle in politics, but if we connected Drayvoss and Soul Viper to the nobles, we could seek justice.”

  “Justice?” I stood up, blood running down my leg as I clenched my fists. “So, you're pissed off I ruined your plans.”

  Eamon grinned ear to ear. “Not at all. You've made things much more interesting.” The vice-captain slid his hands back into his pockets. “I can feel it—nature holding its breath as the clouds gather, awaiting the storm's first growl.”

  I pinched the steel bead lodged in my thigh, blood squelching as I removed it and dropped it into the dirt.

  “If you wish to live, I suggest you stop hiding your abilities.” Eamon raised his fists, changing into a brawling stance.

  He lunged at me, closing the 20-yard gap in a second flat. His armored fist split the air.

  Dagger Step.

  I teleported behind Eamon mid-strike and jumped onto his back. Applying pressure to his shoulder joint, I lifted his arm upward and outward. Eamon dropped his body and drove his elbow downward like a piston, disrupting my balance.

  From his back, I released my grip on his shoulder and swung my legs over his neck, transitioning into a traditional Brazilian Jiu Jitsu bow and arrow choke. Exerting all my strength, I squeezed my thighs underneath his chin as we dropped to the ground.

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  No matter our level difference, he was still human. If I cut the oxygen off from his brain, he'd pass out.

  “You're lacking strength,” Eamon growled as he raised himself off the ground and dropped backward, slamming me against the floor.

  Because Karma's Gaze’s bonus damage doesn't apply to you, jackass.

  The air exploded from my lungs as I lost my grip. Eamon towered over me and wound back his fist.

  My vision blurred as his punch came flying at my temple.

  I'm dead.

  His fist stopped millimeters from my nose, and he expelled a disappointed sigh. “I guess that truly is your limit. You're fast and use interesting joint-lock techniques. However, that's not enough for what's coming if you don't put that shard up for auction.”

  I can't just sell what could be an important quest item willy nilly.

  I lay on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. “I can't do that.”

  Eamon brushed the dirt off his pauldrons. “Well, then I won't ask again. We're finished here. Congratulations, you're now a B rank adventurer. I'll have Kora get you your new credentials.”

  As he approached the spiral staircase, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “A few days ago, there was another strange occurrence. People reported that a phantom appeared in the slums and eliminated Thunder Fang before disappearing into the night.”

  Suspicion lurked in his eyes. But as someone who could give a TED Talk on pathological lying, I just burst out laughing.

  “After testing me yourself, you think I'm capable of something like that?” I asked, eyebrows raised.

  Eamon scratched his chin. “Tsk, the reason I ask is that a bartender mentioned the assailant used teleportation magic. Displacement spells are the hardest to learn. Yet, you used one without a verbal incantation. Only a dozen people on this continent are capable of that feat. Most folks spend years mastering a spell and still recite it during the heat of combat.”

  I hadn't realized how rare my ability was. “My master taught me everything I know.”

  “Who is your master?”

  “He never told me his name.” I described an invented character—an old man that looked like Fu Manchu, who brutally trained me since I was a child in a cave on the outskirts of Waystone Village.

  “You said his mustache grew from the corners of his lips?” Eamon asked.

  I nodded slowly, a lump forming in my throat.

  “The man you described is the infamous Hollow Demon. Though I never expected one of Gadika's top assassins to take a disciple. To think he was operating on this continent right under our noses this whole time.” Eamon bit his lip, reading far too deep into my bold-faced lie. “I have a duty to inform the guild master of this revelation, but I'll keep your name out of it.”

  “Oh, uh, thanks,” I muttered. “But I'm sure my master wasn't someone important.”

  He doesn't even exist!

  The vice-captain waved his hand past his nose as if he was dispelling a fart. “Forget I said anything. Time resolves every coincidence. Stop by for tea sometime if you're still alive.”

  Before I could walk back what I had said, Eamon left. Stewing in regret, I lay with my back against the dirt, eyes closed. The result of our brief sparring session served up heavy implications. The first being, I was nowhere near strong enough. Second, I had been overly reliant on Karma's Gaze’s passive bonus damage against targets with negative karma. I couldn't rely on it to defeat opponents with positive karma. The last problem was my severe lack of funds.

  Viessa sauntered over, staring down at me without any intentions of helping me up.

  Moments later, Kora descended the spiral staircase in a hurry with a first-aid kit in hand. “He overdid it again! I swear he's not happy unless he's making more work for me,” she said as she unraveled a bandage.

  I clenched my teeth as she applied pressure to my thigh.

  “That's weird. I thought you'd need stitches, but the wound looks like it’s already closing,” she said.

  “He barely nicked me.”

  I stood up once Kora finished applying the bandage and handed me a new B-rank identification card.

  “When you decide on a party name, inform us and we'll amend it.”

  “Is that necessary?”

  Kora put her hands on her hips. “As long as you are unaffiliated, numerous organizations will badger you to join them.”

  “Thanks, I'll think about it.”

  ***

  Viessa let out a muffled yawn as we returned to The Gilded Boar's first floor. I settled Greymane's stable fee for four silver, leaving me with three gold and 60 silver leftover. It was plenty for general living expenses, but it was a far cry away from the 50 gold I needed for the chaos shard tax.

  It was early afternoon, and adventurers were flooding into The Gilded Boar to conduct their business. As we headed for the exit, a man wearing an expensive set of mithril armor with golden edges eyed us from Duskblade's table.

  Target: Westcott

  Level: 9

  Karma: -1645

  Additional Data: Pearl Banner Guild Officer. Age 38. Male. Prefers licorice to toffee. Spends 90% of his monthly income on armor and clothing.

  Westcott rose from his seat and a group of level three subordinates followed. His stride exuded arrogance, like he was walking down the runway at a fashion show, his snowy-white cape fluttering in his wake.

  “Cyprus, it's great to finally meet you. I'm Westcott, officer of Pearl Banner,” he said, extending his rugged hand with a beaming smile.

  “Likewise,” I said, grabbing his palm.

  Testing his strength like an inebriated frat bro, he gripped tight, applying immense pressure. I relented, letting him win the unspoken handshake showdown.

  “Sorry, I get a bit carried away. I thought the man that took down an Elite Goblin Knight and a Minotaur would be more formidable,” he said, scanning me from top to bottom.

  “It was more of a team effort,” I said.

  Truthfully, without Duskblade and the others, fighting the Minotaur would've been a complete disaster.

  “Nonetheless, who's your companion here?” he asked, reaching his hand toward Viessa's cowl.

  I stepped between them. “My disciple, who is sworn to silence until they complete their training.”

  Westcott scoffed, abandoning his advance. “Strange custom. Nonetheless, I'm impressed by your outstanding luck. To find a chaos shard in your first dungeon... It's unprecedented.” He opened his arms wide. “You'll be inundated with offers in no time. Let Pearl Banner make you rich before it goes to auction.”

  After getting my ass handed to me by Eamon, I was in no mood to deal with Westcott's smugness. Visions of violence flashed through my mind.

  “It's not going up for auction,” I said, watching two of his men as they moved in to block the front door.

  Westcott pursed his lips and said, “Whoever your buyer is, we'll beat their price. How about 1000 gold, here and now?”

  “You're carrying 1000 gold on your person?” I exclaimed, loud enough for everyone in the packed guild hall to hear. I threw my arm over his shoulder like we were lifelong buddies, cupping my mouth and whispered. “I haven't been here long, but Ingcaster is a dangerous place. I wouldn't go around flaunting your finances.”

  Gently, Westcott removed my arm, face flushing red despite his smile.

  “Nobody with a brain defies Pearl Banner,” he said.

  I smirked. “That's true. I was accosted by some brainless mercenaries on our way back from our raid. Hopefully, your organization is planning retribution.”

  The level nine officer cleared his throat. “Of course, nobody bares their fangs at us and survives. Nonetheless, if you sell the chaos shard without allowing us our bid, we'll have no other choice than to view that as blatant disrespect.”

  If he says “nonetheless” one more time...

  “Don't worry, Chuckles.” I slapped Westcott on his back. “I won't sell it without seeing you first.”

  Confusion swept over Pearl Banner's pack of puppies as I respectfully bowed and moved toward the door. Viessa mirrored my actions, compounding their bewilderment.

  “Don't hesitate too long. For a vagrant like you, it'll be impossible to cling onto that shard, let alone your life.”

  I waved goodbye with the back of my hand as his goons opened the door for us. A warm breeze greeted us in its embrace. We walked over to the stables where I collected Greymane, who was indifferent when he saw me.

  “What about my horse?” Viessa whispered.

  Her horse? Where was her horse again?

  “Are we going back to that nice inn to get her?”

  Rubbing my head, I said, “Why didn't you mention that this morning?”

  “You told me not to speak,” she growled.

  “From now on we're a one-horse operation. Consider it a tactical decision.”