“Now the whole town is talking about the deal,” Jeanne said.

  Viktor gave her a nod. “That’s true.”

  They were standing in line at the food stand, the one run by the brown-skinned man from the South, still as popular as ever. The line stretched long, and with nothing better to do while waiting, people talked endlessly about “the deal” that everyone had heard of.

  It had been four days since Gideon’s meeting with the two most important men of Daelin. The news had spread like wildfire, and by the end of that same day, the entire town knew. Naturally, it caused an uproar, one that might be even bigger than when the dungeon was discovered, probably because there were many more people here now than back then.

  The reception was mixed at first. Some wanted to keep the dungeon in Daelin. After all, it had been centuries since anything remotely exciting had happened in this forsaken place. Others welcomed the promise of instant wealth, with no risk, no danger, no strings attached. Then there were those who were skeptical about the deal. They wondered whether the town would actually benefit from it. What if most of the money ended up in the pockets of a few individuals, who would then take their fortune to a bigger, richer city instead of investing in Daelin, leaving the poor behind with little to nothing?

  But gradually, the opinion began to shift in favor of the deal. Rennald had seen to that, obviously.

  To dispel the lingering skepticism, the Overseer had made a public announcement. He reminded the people that his ancestors were among the town’s founders, and his family had lived here for generations. He pledged that the two million gold from Clovis would be poured back into the town, to bring prosperity to Daelin and to return the region to its former glory.

  He didn’t forget to throw a bone to the adventurers, either. He assured them that they didn’t have to worry about losing their jobs, as there was still a lot of work that needed to be done. He presented a draft plan for clearing the thick woods around Daelin, wiping out the bandits and monsters once and for all, and making all the trade routes safe.

  And he didn’t stop there. “Once we’ve dealt with the forest,” Rennald had said, “I’m going to rid the One Thousand Streams of the underwater monsters that have infested it for centuries. We’ll completely restore the trade network that existed in the Olden Days, and Daelin will once again become the world’s center of power.”

  Viktor didn’t think the man was making false promises. The plan he proposed was not bad. Pretty good, actually. But it didn’t align with Viktor’s interests, so it had to be stopped.

  “What do you think then?” he asked Jeanne. “Do you want to keep the dungeon here, or do you want to sell it to Clovis?”

  “Well, I don’t know.” The pyromancer’s brow furrowed, and the scattered freckles on her face shifted in response. “I have no strong opinion about it. As long as I can find jobs, I don’t really care. On the other hand, I guess you could say I dislike the dungeon. Too many people I know have died there.”

  Technically, she was right. But from his perspective, the only death she really gave a damn about was Petra’s. She hated Jake, probably Hans too, and she disliked everyone in Manfred’s group.

  “I still don’t get why you think it’s your job to take care of that woman.”

  “You mean Alycia?” Jeanne asked. “Seeing her condition reminded me of the night I had to break the news to Rhea about her sister’s fate. Alycia’s situation is even worse, so I can’t just walk away. Not until she starts to pull herself together.”

  “What if she never gets better? Are you going to take care of her for the rest of her life?”

  Jeanne’s face tightened at the question. “Please, don’t say it like that.” Her voice was quieter now. “I believe she’ll recover. People are strong, after all.”

  Viktor didn’t share that belief. The world was full of weaklings, and Blondie was one of them. If you weren’t their friends or family, it was best to cut them loose and move on, before they dragged you down. But he was not going to argue any further.

  “So, she’s living in Rhea’s place now?”

  Jeanne nodded. “Yes. Since Petra’s... no longer there, the house has room for one more person. Besides, I think Rhea’s a bit lonely living all by herself, so I suggested that Alycia stay with her for the time being.”

  Um, just because someone’s lonely doesn’t mean you should dump a deadweight on them, Viktor thought. He glanced at the red-haired woman. “Rhea has no problem with that?”

  “When the girl learned that everyone else in Alycia’s party had died in the dungeon, she was very open to the idea.”

  Well, if everyone was fine with it, then he wasn’t going to say another word. At the end of the day, he was the one responsible for everything, so he didn’t really have the right to criticize how his victims coped with it.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Before long, it was their turn. The burly vendor nodded at them, flashing a big grin, as he began to slice chunks of cooked meat from the skewers with his curved knife. He moved his thick arm like he was dancing, drawing the blade across the skewers in clean, confident strokes, and the meat fell in tender strips, steaming as they landed in a metal tray.

  “So this is what you recommend, huh? You’ve eaten here before?”

  “Yes,” Viktor said. “You’re going to like it.”

  The man packed four meatwraps, handing them over to Jeanne, who dropped a silver coin into his palm.

  “This is very expensive,” she muttered once they had moved away from the stall. “The same money could feed me for a whole month.”

  Viktor eyed her curves, wondering how the hell she wasn’t malnourished on that kind of diet.

  “Sometimes, you just need to enjoy life,” he said. “And not stress too much about money.”

  Jeanne let out a soft chuckle. “You talk like you’re a rich kid. Does the Guild pay Claire that well?”

  Not really. He did have plenty of silver, but it had nothing to do with Claire.

  “Now we’re going to Rhea’s house, right?” Viktor asked.

  “Yes. We should hurry. The interview is in an hour.”

  “Well, the interviewer is Claire, isn’t she?”

  “That doesn’t mean Rhea should be late.”

  After Petra’s death, her younger sister Rhea was left to fend for herself, and in order to survive, she needed to make money somehow. Viktor heard that the girl had once dreamed of becoming an Emerald Mage like her late sister, but that dream died with Petra. Now, she just wanted a well-paying job as soon as possible. The Guild was hiring, and she jumped right on it.

  Today, she was scheduled for an interview. But she didn’t want to leave Blondie alone at home while she was out, so she needed someone to watch over her while she was away. The problem was, Jeanne was busy, and so was everyone in Cedric’s party.

  Which left Viktor.

  He didn’t give a damn about the blonde, of course, but he saw an opportunity. Since she had moved into Rhea’s house, it meant all of her belongings—her gadgets—would be there as well. The two mechanical birds had been left behind when she was rescued by Cedric’s party, now being rigorously studied by his gremlins, but there were still the explosives, something of great interest to him. And he could also find many other useful items he hadn’t seen yet. Babysitting wasn’t exactly his idea of a fun way to pass the time, but if it got him access to the gadgets, he could grit his teeth and put up with a lifeless, broken doll for a few hours.

  They arrived at a dilapidated house on the western edge of town, where the impoverished of Daelin lived. This area bordered the dense, creeping woods surrounding the town, making the people here more vulnerable to monster attacks.

  In front of the house stood a plain girl with long brown hair. Viktor had seen her before, but hadn’t gotten a good look at her face until now. She was a bit older than him. Fourteen? Fifteen, maybe? Short and thin, she looked so fragile that she could easily be blown away by a breeze. He wasn’t sure if she was ready to work at the Adventurer’s Guild, but hey, she needed money, while the Guild needed people. So win-win, right?

  “Rhea.”

  “Jeanne.” The girl greeted them with a small smile, her eyes meeting the pyromancer’s before shifting to Viktor. “You're Quinn, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Jeanne grinned. “You’re about to get interviewed by his sister. Prepare well?”

  “Yes, I think so,” the girl said, smiling nervously.

  “How’s Alycia?”

  “Well, still the same as before. She’s having a bath behind the house.”

  At least he wouldn’t have to deal with the smell this time. And while Blondie was taking her sweet time in the bathtub, he would take the opportunity to go through all her belongings.

  “Let’s go then,” Jeanne said. She handed a meatwrap to Rhea and two to him, keeping one for herself. “I’ll take you to the Guild, then I’ll head off to deal with my own business.”

  Rhea nodded, turning to Viktor. “Keep an eye on her, alright?”

  “I will.”

  Then, the two said their goodbyes and disappeared down the street.

  How careless. He couldn’t believe how easy it was for Rhea to let a complete stranger into her house. Well, to be fair, he was just a twelve-year-old boy, hardly someone she would consider a threat. Besides, she trusted Jeanne, and Jeanne trusted him.

  The moment he opened the door, his nostrils were hit by the sharp smell of wet earth. The house was small, far smaller than where he was living. He had figured that much from the outside, but now, stepping in, it was even more apparent. He walked toward an old wooden table by the hearth and put the meatwraps on it before letting his eyes roam.

  To his left, a door led into what had to be the bedroom, while to the right was an oddly empty space that stood out from the rest of the room. There was nothing but a stone basin in the corner. Marks on the floor indicated that something had been placed there recently, something round and large. The bathtub, maybe?

  Makes sense, I guess. The sisters were poor, and their house was too small to have a proper bathroom. So they used to bathe right here, which wasn’t really a problem when it was just the two siblings living together. But now Blondie was here, and privacy mattered. The bathtub had probably been dragged to a shed or somewhere at the back of the house.

  Why did Rhea have to go to such lengths for a stranger? That was something Viktor couldn’t fathom. Bathing in the shed was probably far from pleasant. There was a reason why it wasn’t the first choice. The main house already had enough cracks in the walls for the wind to howl through. The shed was probably far worse.

  Oh well, whatever. He was not here to comment on other people’s life choices. Blondie wasn’t in the house, so he should start digging into her stuff before the chance slipped away.

  He slid into the bedroom. There was no one inside, obviously. Only a simple bed, its sheet thin and weathered, and some furniture. Everything here looked old and worn out. Well, everything except one, a big trunk sitting against the wall.

  It was crude and cheap-looking, yes, but it was clearly newer than everything else in this house. It had to be something Rhea had recently bought, probably to hold the things that hadn’t been here before. In other words, Blondie’s stuff.

  Viktor opened the trunk, and the first thing he saw was...

  Gold. A lot of gold.

  This is what her party had looted from the dungeon, huh? He hoped the girls had the sense to keep their mouths shut, because otherwise, they were practically begging for a robbery.

  But this wasn’t what he had come for. His eyes moved past the coins, landing on the rest of the trunk’s contents.

  Let’s see what gadgets you have here, Blondie!