The Gilded Boar was teeming with adventurers. Every table on the first floor was occupied, and the staff was out in full force, delivering rounds of drinks and plates stacked with food. Names and karma numbers burned into my brain, flooding my vision until I covered my right eye with my hand.

  As I took my spot at the end of a long queue for the contract desk, a brawny man in front of us turned around. He stood a good foot and a half taller than me and wore a grizzled black beard seasoned with specks of gray. His scowl tightened the burned scar tissue making the right side of his face look like it had lost a fight with a waffle iron. I peeked through my fingers, scanning his identity.

  Target: Leighland

  Level: 4

  Karma Rating: +170

  “What a foul stench. Go stand in the corner until we're done here,” he said and pointed across the room.

  The people in the line ahead of him glanced in our direction. I wanted to diffuse the situation before the entire room turned into spectators.

  “Sorry for the smell, but it can't be helped. This is a time sensitive quest that requires proof upon completion.”

  “Time sensitive, huh?”

  I raised the basket and lifted the lid, revealing The Bandit Lord's swollen, discolored face. Leighland slapped the lid down and paused, scanning me from head to toe.

  “Did you lose the rest of your party to complete a reckless contract like that?”

  “No, I appreciate your concern, but I'm a solo adventurer.”

  Leighland chuckled, turned toward the counter, and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Let this fool through unless you want this rank aroma to ruin everyone’s meals.”

  The dozen people ahead of us parted way at the cost of more unwanted attention. I nodded graciously and seized the opening, avoiding the eyes of those I walked past. I set the basket down on the counter and the attendant pinched his nose.

  “I've completed the Drayvoss contract,” I said. “I'll take my payment in silver.”

  The young man opened the package, and the color drained from his face.

  “Ah, I see, one moment.” He grabbed the basket and headed into the back. After a few minutes, he returned with two satchels of coins. “His identity has been confirmed. On behalf of the guild, thank you for your assistance.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  I swiped the satchels off the counter and stuffed them in my pockets, planning to dip out and come back when half the establishment wasn't molesting me with their gaze. But as I headed for the door, Leighland slapped my back and grabbed my shoulder.

  “Hold on,” he said.

  For a fleeting moment, I wanted to ignore his karma and the one level gap and twist his wrist until it snapped.

  “Who are you?”

  “Just a nobody C rank adventurer,” I said, slipping free.

  “Mr. Nobody, let me buy you and your shy friend a drink. We've got a booth on the second floor.”

  “Thanks, but I'd prefer to retire for the night.”

  “Nonsense,” he said. “Your success is cause for celebration. I’m not the only one who has tired of the guild trying to pitch that contract.”

  Leighland threw his arm around my shoulder as if we were lifelong friends and dragged me toward the staircase. When I attempted to escape, his grip tightened just firm enough to make it so I couldn't get away without making a scene.

  Bastard.

  Although his strength was overwhelming, I didn't detect any outright malice. If he wanted to pick a fight, he would've done it when we were in line. I resigned myself as a hostage to his hospitality, and he loosened his grip.

  “First round is on me.”

  “Don't you have a contract to turn in?” I asked.

  “That can wait. It's not one of those, uh, what was the phrase you used? Time sensitive? We call them duration-bound contracts. You must not be from around here. Otherwise, you'd know you can't turn down a drink offered by The Great Duskblade of The Twilight Rangers.”

  Duskblade? I guess with a name like Leighland, I'd overcompensate with a cool moniker, too.

  “Never heard of you,” I said as I stole a glance from a worried Viessa.

  “Ouch, my ego can't take much more of a beating. I originally wanted the Drayvoss contract, but my party vetoed it, despite my encouragement. And now I have to bear witness to a nameless C ranker accomplishing such a feat all on his lonesome. So, if you’d be so kind as to spare me from any more trauma, I won’t forget it.”

  “Fine,” I said, wondering what angle he was working.

  I expelled a weary sigh and followed him upstairs with my unwanted elf companion in tow. Her presence made it feel like I was walking a tightrope across a bottomless pit while carrying an armful of ticking time bombs on an especially breezy day. And to top it off, the trip had exhausted me.

  Tired people make mistakes.

  A cacophony of drunken rants and laughs carried throughout the jam-packed second floor. We narrowly avoided colliding with a stressed waitress hauling stacks of empty mugs as Leighland led us to a rounded booth in the corner. Two generic looking guys wearing scuffed chainmail and a red-haired freckled woman raised their mugs as Duskblade took a seat. But when Viessa and I joined them, not even the alcohol could wipe the puzzled looks from their faces.

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  “Something wrong with your eye?” Duskblade asked.

  “Just a piece of dust,” I said and sat down with those who I assumed were the rest of The Twilight Rangers.

  A quick glance revealed their names and oddly neutral karma ratings ranging from +150 to +500. They were all level 3 besides their leader. I sensed they were a tight-knit group that had been through thick and thin together from their casual demeanors.

  “Who's this?” the woman asked.

  “A nameless C ranker that decapitated Drayvoss by himself.”

  She choked on a sip of beer and slammed the mug down. “Really?”

  “Saw that bastard's bloated head with my own eyes,” Leighland said.

  “How? Catch him alone on the shitter or something?” Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms.

  “Something like that,” I said.

  “Don't be so modest. Your clothing is stained with enough blood that it looks like you bathed in it,” Leighland said. He clapped his hands and shouted. “Another round, quickly!”

  A waitress darted across the room, masterfully balancing a stacked tray of beer, veering through the rowdy crowd until she reached our booth and dropped them off. Duskblade tossed her a few silver and shooed her away with a nod of his head. The rest of The Twilight Rangers waited until their leader took the first sip before partaking themselves. I had a long drink, relishing the cool hoppy flavors that washed across my taste buds.

  At least the beer in this world isn't half bad...

  “Now that we're sharing a drink. Let's all introduce ourselves,” Duskblade said.

  The red-haired woman let loose an obnoxious exhale. “Greetings, I'm Grace, second in command of The Twilight Rangers.”

  “Hey, we never decided on that.” Duskblade smirked.

  The guy sitting next to Grace leaned in and held his palm out in front of her face. “Shut up! I'm Callum the Fearless, second in command of The Twilight Rangers.”

  “Bullshit,” the last member of The Twilight Rangers spoke up. “I, Joel, also known as Razor Arrow, am the true second in command of The Twilight Rangers. Neither of your skills can compare to mine.”

  Joel patted the bowstring slung over his shoulder, unleashing a mischievous smile, which ignited an argument over who was the most skilled. Callum droned on about an increasingly fictitious series of brave acts until Grace joined the fray, bringing up the time she saved both of their asses.

  The conversation devolved into a drunken shouting match between the three junior members while I finished my beer. Despite their squabbling, I immediately sensed their comradery. As an outsider, they came across as a dysfunctional family rather than mere coworkers.

  Viessa silently stared down at her beer, totally confused by what was transpiring. I pushed it into her hands and encouraged her to drink, signaling that everything was fine. Finally, the elf raised her mug, took a sip, shuddered at the taste and set it aside.

  “A brainless archer like you could never be second in command,” Callum yelled.

  “Fearless? You nearly pissed yourself when we fought that skitterbear,” Joel shot back.

  Duskblade slammed his fist down on the table, ending the quarrel in an instant. “Enough. It's Mr. Nobody's turn.”

  With all eyes on me, I smiled and set my empty glass down. “I'm Cyprus. Thanks for the drink, but I have other matters to attend to.”

  “Are you fucking ignorant?” Grace jumped up from her seat, freckles ablaze with fury. “That's The Great Duskblade!”

  “Then I'd like to ask The Great Duskblade to respect my time and get to the point.”

  “Sonofa--”

  “Fair enough,” Duskblade said, cutting Grace off. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a stone key with a rich, emerald green gem embedded in its bow.

  Viessa muffled her gasp, but I just squinted hard and scratched my chin to make it look like I was lost in a deep train of thought.

  What the hell is that for?

  “Two weeks ago, a dungeon appeared west of Waystone. After a hard-fought battle, we killed the guardian and retrieved its key. Tomorrow, we'll be conducting a joint raid with Pearl Banner’s assistance and enter the C rank dungeon. But even with our combined forces, it's a colossal task.”

  A dungeon?

  I was quickly becoming painfully aware of my general lack of worldly knowledge.

  “I thought contract difficulty was measured by stars?” I asked.

  “See, we shouldn’t be talking to this newbie,” Grace said, dismissing me with a backhanded wave.

  “Contracts are opportunities for adventurers to eat. Anyone with enough capital can have one issued, then the guild posts and assigns them to qualified adventurers. Dungeons are where true adventurers feast. They’re incomparable to the regular contracts and are hardly regulated. A different department within the guild measures their difficulty. Unlike contracts, whoever holds the key maintains the sole rights of entering and clearing the dungeon.”

  Duskblade raised the beer to his lips and took a considerable drink. “Lesser groups lucky enough to slay a guardian often sell the key to parties more well-equipped for the challenge. The risk of entering even a C rank dungeon is much higher than even a six-star contract, but the rewards are much greater.”

  “And what does this have to do with me?”

  “Well, the guild recommended a six-person party for this dungeon. Pearl Banner loaned us two of their junior healers, but I’d feel better with a seventh body. If you're interested, we'll be meeting here in the morning before we depart. Unfortunately, we can’t extend the same offer to your companion.”

  To hell with that nonsense.

  There was no telling what horrors awaited in the dungeon. The thought of facing a giant spider, or worse, hundreds of small spiders, was deeply unsettling. I recalled my life-or-death battle with the level one devil beetle and sighed. I was only interested in human opponents with negative karma.

  I stood up, reached across the table, and shook Duskblade's hand. “I appreciate the offer, but...”

  [Quest Unlocked]

  The Emerald Dungeon - Clear every floor and retrieve the chaos shard.

  Rewards - ???

  Were these the instructions Justice had mentioned earlier?

  This must be it!

  “I'll take part if you can meet one condition,” I said.

  “And what condition would that be?” Duskblade asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “If we find a chaos shard, I'll be taking it. In return, I'll forgo the rest of the loot, regardless of our findings.”

  Uproarious laughter erupted from the table. As the chuckling subsided, Duskblade wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

  “He really is ignorant,” Grace said, rolling her eyes. “We should ask someone else.”

  Had it not been for the sudden appearance of the quest, I would've already flushed the idea of joining up with The Twilight Rangers down the toilet. But Justice’s words echoed in my mind. Was this why the goddess was pissed by my lack of progress? Because I hadn’t completed a single quest thus far? Skipping this opportunity could spark her wrath in the future. I couldn’t go against the system.

  “I’ll be honest with you, Cyprus. The chance of seeing a chaos shard in a C rank dungeon is abysmal at best,” Duskblade said. “I don't want to hear any complaints if you come out empty-handed.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m an experienced gambler that can handle a loss. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I have several preparations to make before we meet again in the morning.”

  And with that, I took leave before anyone could protest. I zipped downstairs and out the front door, wasting no time. I drew in a lungful of the cool night air as I reached Greymane. My hasty exit may have seemed strange, but I couldn’t care less.

  Screw first impressions.

  I had the sinking feeling that if I had stayed, they would’ve locked me into a game of twenty questions. Nineteen of which I wouldn't have been able to answer worth a damn. It was better to avoid unnecessary interactions altogether. Weaving a believable backstory with my lack of worldly knowledge was like skipping blindfolded across a minefield. I’d rather they perceived me as a strong-silent type.

  By the time I mounted Greymane, Viessa caught up, huffing and puffing, eyes shooting lasers. “That key only serves to unlock danger,” she whispered harshly.

  “Shh... We'll speak later, when no one's around. First, we go shopping. Then I need to find some people to kill.”

  The elf's eyes widened.

  What's with that look?