A misty drizzle descended upon the night like a whispered secret. I basked in the nocturnal realm where the shadows danced, evading the pale moon's occasional gaze through parted clouds. Oarwin District was sparsely populated and maze-like, located in the northernmost point of Ingcaster.

  It was a place absent of the royal guards and supposedly overrun by gangs and criminal scum. Thanks to a massive shopping spree two hours prior, I had acquired a detailed map of Ingcaster and its districts, along with a broader map of Aclana and some other useful intel.

  “Whatever you do, avoid Oarwin,” one shopkeeper had said.

  Another had warned, “If you only get robbed there, consider yourself lucky.”

  It required several trips to different vendors and trading posts to liquidate the loot from our dearly departed Drayvoss. Two bottles of wine ended up being worth a gold apiece, along with the aged cheeses and the miscellaneous sacks full of goodies Viessa had scavenged. Our total haul came out to 11 gold and 85 silver. I re-invested a chunk of the profits into two new daggers, 24 throwing knives, a short sword, clothes, rations, camping supplies, snacks, and two health potions for seven gold.

  For another two gold, I rented a deluxe suite with a private bathroom and daily meals included for 10 days at The Wheat Brew Tavern and Inn. The shopping spree and fancier accommodations only left me with 2 gold and 85 silver.

  When I left Viessa behind in the suite, she complained as I was prepping to leave. But within five minutes, she passed out on one of the two mattresses. Honestly, I wanted to sleep, too. For once, my desire to curl up in bed with a soft pillow and a warm blanket outweighed my lust for violence. But I was only 110 XP away from hitting level four. And entering the dungeon tomorrow without leveling up first would have been downright negligent.

  So, I sacrificed comfort as I waded through the dilapidated streets of the neglected district. Compared to the rest of Ingcaster, Oarwin was a ghost town. Despite the warnings I hadn't been robbed or accosted by any criminal entities. In fact, I had been strolling for the good part of an hour before I heard the fleeting echo of a distant scream.

  I dashed in the sound's direction, cutting through an alley that led deeper into the district, skipping over trash and maneuvering through crumbled buildings. Torchlight flickered around the corner of a half destroyed stone wall, casting the shadows of four figures across the eroded cobblestone street.

  I scurried into the building that now only consisted of a four-meter wall and a dusty collection of rubble. Without making a sound, I leaned up against the wall and listened to what was occurring on the other side.

  “Quit bitching or I'll carve your tongue out.”

  “Please... Where did you take my brother?!”

  “Stupid bastard. Jenko, hold him down.”

  I pulled the hood of my stylish, brand-new flame and blade resistant robed cloak down and raised the matching bandana over my mouth as I casually strolled out into the street from around the corner. There was one sad sap—a young man kneeling on the ground with a busted-up face. Two thugs held him in place while the third towered over him with a knife. Unfortunately, the aggressors were only level two with significantly negative karma.

  “I have to applaud your technique.” I clapped my gloved hands together and the knife wielding thug spun around on his toes. “Underneath that brave face, he's scared shitless. Even though he spoke up for his brother's sake, the moment that blade meets his tongue, he'll be squealing like a pig.”

  The young man's eyes widened with fear as I winked at him.

  Target: Tristan

  Level: 2

  Karma: +80

  The stubby knife wielder, Kai, waved his blade at me and impolitely asked, “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Just a guy out on a casual evening stroll.”

  One of the guys holding Tristan down let out a chuckle. “Dumb shit, you're trespassing in Thunder Fang territory.”

  “Hmm...” I rubbed my chin, then pointed at Dixon, the pale, skinny man that was helping hold Tristan down. “You, go get reinforcements. Preferably ten or fifteen men. I'll be waiting here.”

  Kai stepped toward me as he tightened the grip on his knife. “Enough out of this bastard.”

  In one skillful motion, I effortlessly weaved underneath his swing, unsheathed my dagger, and sliced through his forearm. Kai wavered, and I brushed past him. The two goons keeping Tristan pinned didn't even notice my counterattack. They were confused, probably wondering why Kai wasn't turning around and attacking again. It wasn't until Kai dropped his knife and they saw the blood dripping from his forearm that they reached for their weapons.

  My fingers swept across the knife bandolier on my waist and with a simple flick of the wrist, I flung a knife between Jenko's eyes. Jenko flopped to the ground at Tristan's feet. Dixon doubled back, frantically pulling a short sword from his sheath.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  I gestured with my thumb over my shoulder. “Your friend's radial and ulnar artery is severed. He'll die soon without a tourniquet. I suggest you get a move along and rally your troops. I don't have all night.”

  Kai was kneeling on the ground, clutching his ravaged forearm. “Dixon, hurry and get help.”

  And with that, Dixon sheathed his sword, sprinted away down an alley. Hopefully, he wouldn't take too long. I turned around and Kai was trying to act tough by covering the pain up with a forced snicker.

  “You fool. They're going to tear you to pieces.”

  “Yeah, yeah, too bad you won't be around to see it.”

  Terror cut through Kai's false bravado as I opened his throat, and he dropped face first into the dirt.

  +25 XP

  +25 Karma

  The scent of fresh iron saturated the air. I backpedaled from the body, trying to keep the blood from touching my boots until I realized the front of my clothes had caught most of it.

  “Damn it, these are new,” I muttered.

  Tristan remained frozen, avoiding eye contact, kneeling on the ground. “How long do you think it will take for that vampire looking jerk-off to get back here?”

  “He'll be back soon... And, uh, thanks for helping me. I'd ask for your name, but I don't think you'd tell me,” Tristan said.

  “You should probably hightail it out of here.”

  “Hightail?”

  “Get lost,” I said.

  Tristan nodded, bowed, and scurried off a whopping ten yards away, where he ducked into a partially demolished building and took refuge underneath a heap of trash that had a clear view of the street. Oarwin’s atmosphere left a lot to be desired, like structures that wouldn’t fall over from a strong sneeze and a population that didn't consist of scumbags. However, where it lacked beauty, it offered an unfathomable number of nooks and crannies to hide in if things went south.

  A rumbling of footsteps thundered down the street as torchlight bled out of the alley. I crossed the street and dipped into the shadows, seeking refuge behind a damaged column, taking just enough distance from the bodies that they wouldn't immediately find me if their group fanned out.

  Eight men appeared on the scene, seven of which were level two. The sole level three was a stout, bald guy wearing a heavy set of plate armor. I wondered if his massive head was too big for a helmet.

  “That son of a bitch killed Kai!” Dixon shouted as he rushed toward Kai’s corpse. “He said he'd wait for us.”

  “Invisibility,” I whispered, activating the ability as I rushed out under the guise of darkness.

  “Keep your guard up. We could be walking into an ambush setup by The Sanguine Syndicate,” Baldy said.

  Even knowing it was an ambush; their positioning was unorganized and full of gaps. They split into two groups of four. The first group, containing Baldy and Dixon, stood over Kai's body, examining the area while the second group took up their rear, weapons ready.

  “No, I don't think he was associated with them. There was something off about him,” Dixon said. “The Sanguine Syndicate wouldn’t move so recklessly.”

  Four throwing knives appeared out of thin air, three of which found the throats of the men in the rearguard while the last one went slightly wide. I launched a fifth throwing knife, finishing the last surprised man off before the others could react.

  Baldy spun around, gripping a two-handed sword as his comrades fell. “The bastard's, he-—”

  The dagger in my left hand cut him off, literally, while I eviscerated the man beside him with the dagger in my right hand. Baldy's head dangled backward in a gruesome fashion, showering the man on his left with blood.

  Within the blink of an eye, six men were dead and only two remained. And the two still standing suddenly realized they hadn't stepped into a battle, but into an invisible woodchipper. An impending sense of doom seeped into their souls, slowing their movements and clouding their decisiveness.

  Dixon let out a wailing battle cry, wildly swinging his sword while his friend Gunther turned to run.

  “There's only mercy in death,” I said and sent a flurry of throwing knives into Gunther’s back.

  As my invisibility ticked down, I stood back and sheathed my daggers, amused by Dixon's hopeless sword dance as he randomly stabbed and slashed at the shadows. Eventually, Invisibility ability wore off, and I revealed myself ten yards behind him with a purposeful cough.

  “I told you to bring more friends,” I said in an unmistakably disappointed tone.

  Dixon whipped around, exhaling labored breaths. “Who sent you?”

  “Fate.” I took one step forward, and he took two back. “Where's that kid's brother?”

  “Fuck you, coward,” he spat. “Without that trick, you're nothing.”

  Dagger Step.

  I teleported point blank in front of him and twisted the sword from his hands, snapping his wrists with ease. Dixon screamed. I yawned. This was getting old, and I wanted to go to bed. The initial satisfaction of killing had faded like an unsatisfying appetizer, only making me hungrier for a genuine thrill. Compared to Drayvoss these guys were insects.

  “Stop crying,” I gently kicked Dixon in his side, which accidentally shattered his ribs because I underestimated the damage buff from Karma’s Gaze.

  “Sadistic bastard,” he coughed.

  “If your next words aren't that boy's location, I'll rip your arms off and slap you to death with your own hands.”

  “The pub... He's at the pub. But you'll never—”

  I stomped his face into the ground, giving up on the idea of keeping my boots gore-free. I waved Tristan out from his terrible hiding spot. The boy was a good two feet shorter than me, probably no older than 13, dressed in rags. He approached with hesitance in his stride, eyes focused on the ground as if he was approaching an untamed beast.

  +100 XP

  +100 Karma

  LEVEL UP

  +1 Strength

  +1 Stamina

  +2 Agility

  +1 Ability Point

  +2 Mastery Points

  It was too bad I couldn't access my system to unlock a new ability and finally find out what mastery points did. At the very least, the additional base stats would help with what I had planned in the meantime. Besides, I already moved quicker and more efficiently than I ever did on Earth. And percentage wise, two additional agility stat points were a massive boon.

  I didn’t notice the extra point in strength and stamina immediately. But as soon as I gained the extra agility points, my body felt several pounds lighter.

  I considered calling it a night, already fulfilling my self-imposed mission. I could return to the inn, get a decent night’s sleep, and be well rested for tomorrow’s dungeon. Yet Tristan was staring up at me with an unmistakable sense of hope in his eyes. Was this technically my responsibility, too? Justice had also made it abundantly clear I needed to show significant progress...

  Staring up at the clouds, I waited for another quest to appear. But nothing happened as I retrieved my throwing knives from the dead.

  “Do you know where Thunder Fang’s pub is?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir.” Tristan nodded.

  “Show me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Don't worry, I only kill bad guys,” I said, knowing he didn't believe me.