Jack's POV

  Before I knew it, I had slept on the floor on this side of the small table, and when I woke up. My dad was long gone to bid and buy what he could from the adventurers who would have come back from the dungeon by now. I on the other hand made my way to the inn downstairs.

  The central orb hovering above the safe zone was slowly gaining its luminosity, making the place outside brighter by the second. I had an hour at best before the owner of the inn Mrs.Tuma would check if I had done all the washing and chopping for the dishes she would cook for the hungry adventurers who were bound to show up.

  Mrs. Tuma was a tall mage lady with olive skin, a little heavier on the scale but with a golden heart. Mr. Tuma on the other hand was a thin, tall olive man and was a tank back in the day.

  Unlike our family. The Tuma's weren't trying to survive inside the dungeon by penny pinching. Instead many old adventurers after making enough money had retired. Tuma's were one among them. There are only so many goblins you can keep killing before your level stalls forever. Or at least that's what Mr. Tuma had told me when I had asked him as to why he had stopped adventuring.

  He had used his credits to lease a plot in the safe zone from the dungeon council and settle down for good to start a business. While Mrs. Tuma had invested in the two story structure along with everything that went into building it.

  I doubt they would ever recoup their initial investment. But to live inside the dungeon, you either need to sell something or kill something. And most times than not, people eventually chose to sell things as the dungeon time and again had sprung one surprises too many and killed people who we thought were the strongest among us. Plus, it wasn't like Tuma's didn't kill things from time to time. So that stream of revenue was always there for them.

  I got down the stairs, greeted the two as they had the first coffee of the day in the open dining area with twenty odd circular table with four chairs each. I would have loved to grab a cup for myself. But I had slept in a little longer than usual.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Tuma," I bowed. They gave me a nod, and I made my way to the main kitchen of the inn through the flapping doors.

  The inn was a modest one having two stories, and my father and I occupied the room at the top most level in one corner. There were a handful of other rooms in the inn which were occupied on first come first serve basis.

  If one were to walk into the inn from the main door. Then the stairs I took to get down would be on their right, and I had just walked past all the chairs and tables to enter the kitchen area on the left. The said kitchen area was built adjacent to the main inn and it also housed a basement.

  Apparently, the first settlers had one too many accidents with mages trying to cook and burning the whole buildings down. The wood with which the building was erected came from the fifth floor of the dungeon and regenerated once a month. So it wasn't like they could afford things burning down with a growing population back then.

  Keeping my thoughts aside, I washed up my hands and started working. Because along with adventurers in the inn. There were travelers as well. Travelers were just adventurers who moved to and fro between the dungeons like that mage I met last night. He wasn't from here. He didn't even look like the travelers that come from the adjacent dungeons.

  Either way, as we catered to both adventurers and travelers. The timings for breakfast, lunch, and dinner were fixed. And Mrs. Tuma didn't budge on the schedule. Neither she liked when I was tardy.

  So I got the dough ready to bake fresh breads and chopped up things before Mrs. Tuma came in rolling up her selves to cook. While Mr. Tuma got the table in the dining area cleaned and ready for the adventurers. The guests who were sleeping in the rooms. Usually showed up around seven in the morning. So we didn't have to worry about serving them just yet.

  Mrs. Tuma gave a look at the work I had accomplished, and without a word, she lit up the flames with the snap of her fingers. But I could tell that she was pleased. The thing was that I had been working here for so long that Mrs. Tuma and I worked in tandem without speaking a word. I knew what she needed with her just looking my way. We got things ready just in time before the first adventurers showed up at the crack of dawn.

  Mr. Tuma greeted them with gusto, and I moved in to get the orders scribed on the pad. We had five dishes on the menu so there really wasn't much of a choice. All I had to do was note down the quantity and let Mrs. Tuma know the specifics. She would fix up the dishes, mixing in the spices as per the request, and I would take the orders out.

  Hours rolled by, and all three of us worked like a well oiled machine which earned me the breakfast at the inn along with my daily payment. Plus, Mrs. Tuma was gracious enough to let me have an egg which costs close to four hundred credits. More than what I made selling all those weeds last night. A part of me hoped that I could have saved some for my father.

  He had cut down his meals to one a day. As a matter of fact he and I had breakfast and dinner together until three months ago. But when my parents bought a new magic wand for Kara that had a lower cool down on spell cast. I saw him skipping meals. It didn't take long for me to connect the dots that the equipment was bought on a loan with huge interest, and we had to cough up more than we had to our name.

  Things like good equipment make all the difference between life and death in the dungeon. And with Kara starting the dungeon raids at such an early age. There was no way any of us were taking chances with her safety. Remembering the way my mother looked the last time she came. I think she too had cut back to one meal just to make ends meet.

  That's one more reason why I can't get inducted at the moment.

  My family needs me.

  Plus, my story wasn't all that special. Except for being the unindicted part our situation was the norm. Either we humans die of starvation. Or we fight back and survive. The System had set these rules, and we had no choice but to follow them. Had the System been more kind, or generous with its drops. Our family wouldn't have been going through this ordeal to begin with.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Either way, there was no point in thinking about it.

  So after having had my fill, I stepped into the basement of the kitchen to grab supplies for the lunch. The staircase led straight down into the basement with no turns, and was the only way out.

  The flour bags were arranged on my left on a made up pedestal a feet high. And to my right were shelves of items like salt, sugar, oil, and other spices.

  Until three dungeon cycles ago. Those shelves were stocked, and I had been tempted a time or more to take something. But mom and dad would know, and I knew just how much it would disappoint them. So I never went through with it. Anyway, the shelves were running empty, and I could only wonder what the next dungeon cycle would look like.

  I grabbed a bag of flour for now. But before I could leave the way I came in. As always, I found myself walking and standing underneath an opening. It had become a sort of ritual of mine. A large two by two vent in the corner of that basement, which gave me a clear view of the dungeon ceiling right through the kitchen above. The ceiling looked higher from down here, but it still gave me that same feeling of being trapped as always.

  With my neck craned up and a bag of flour over my shoulder. I stared at that ceiling feeling a mixture of things. I missed my family. I missed my friends who had moved on from here a long time ago. More than anything else. I missed that feeling of having freedom from when I was young.

  The bag of flour over my shoulder grew heavier, and the back of my neck started hurting. But I was lost in my thoughts and recalled what my mother used to say.

  'You need to say things out into the universe,' she had said. 'You never know who is listening, and if you truly want something with all your heart. Then the universe has a way of making it come true.'

  "One day," I spoke, grabbing onto that bag of flour on my shoulder. "One day, when everyone in my family is settled, and I'm induc..." I held my tongue. "The first thing I would do is get out of this dungeon and look at the real sky."

  I stayed there for a long moment. Imaging just how blue the sky would look. I had read about it. Heard the travelers tell me about the clouds in great detail. But I had never seen them.

  "Jack…" came Mrs. Tuma's call for me, and I lowered my head, pulling myself back in the cage we called the dungeon.

  I turned and was about to be on my way, but froze the moment I raised my head again.

  "Well, hello there…" he smiled.

  "Old man…" I mumbled.

  He was wearing the same cloak and the same smile as last night.

  "Oh, I remember the first time I saw the real sky," he said, and I dropped the bag of flour being caught off guard. "It was so bright and hot that I thought I had died for a second and was on my way to heaven…" He chuckled while standing and blocking the exit.

  What is he doing in here? My eyes widened at him, and my heart raced.

  "How did you get in—"

  "It was easy…" He waved his gloved hand and walked up to me at his own pace. "My hunch was right." He smiled warmly. "You are one of the blanks indeed…"

  I chuckled at that. Hoping that I could bluff my way through this.

  "I told you—"

  "A lie," he said. "Quiet convincingly," he said. "I almost bought the lies along with those herbal leaves that you were selling, Mr. Merchant." He smiled.

  "I don't have to prove anything to you or the others, for that matter," I said, picking up the sack of flour and putting it over my shoulder.

  "Oh, is that so?" he asked me with a mock surprise. "How about a test then?" he asked.

  "What test?" I asked back, hoping to buy time until Mrs. Tuma notices that I was late and comes in here herself.

  "What time is it?" Jensen asked me, tilting his head. "All our clocks are the same as they are, but part of the System's status screen," he said.

  I blinked at that.

  "Go on," he said. "Tell me the time, and you will never see me again."

  I swallowed in empty at that, balling my fist.

  "I will do you one better," he said. "I will close my eyes if you think I'm one of those who can see other people's status screen." He placed a gloved palm over his eyes. "Go on now," he said. "And tell me what time it is…"

  And I did. I reached for the pocket watch of my grandfather. But when I put my hand inside. I couldn't find it. My heart raced and with sack of flour over my shoulder. I patted my other pocket, and it had my rectangular tab. But my watch… my watch.

  "Oh, looking for this?" he asked, while still having his eyes covered and dangling that silver pocket watch by holding onto its chain with his other hand.

  "Give it back," I almost yelled at him.

  He removed his hand from over his eyes and gave me a bright smile. "Tadaaa…" he said, while holding his arms wide apart like a magician having just given a performance. I always hated those comics anyway. They weren't worth the credit it took to rent them.

  "What do you want?" I asked him.

  He smirked even wider, basking in the glory of having caught me.

  "You want to turn me in and cash in the stat bonus with the System?" I asked.

  "At the level that I'm at," he said, dropping his hands and hiding them inside his cloak. "System stat bonuses don't make much difference."

  "Then what do you want?" I asked him with a lump forming in my throat. "I have no credits—"

  "I can fix that," he said.

  I wanted to argue. But chose to seal my lips shut.

  "I had your father followed for the most part of the day, knowing that you were tucked in here safely," he said, and my eyebrows raised at that. "Don't be alarmed," he added, in a calm voice. "I'm not here to hurt him or you," he said.

  "Then why are you here?" I asked him.

  "To recruit you," he said.

  "For what?" I asked.

  "A job."

  "What sort of a job?"

  "Are you really in a position to be asking that?" he asked, with an eyebrow raised.

  "What sort of a job?" I asked again.

  "A job that can pay for your sister's new wand and give your father enough credits that he can unlock the next level and restart his business," he said.

  I stared at him hard for a long moment. The only thought going through my mind was how the hell does he know all this?

  "A decade ago, your father, like many other merchants, was hit by the System update that limited the sort of trade he could do," he said. "The merchants in general were gaining a monopoly by buying cheap, hoarding, and then selling high. And the system doesn't like such monopolies." He smiled. "Figuring out the rest from there was easy." He paused. "Drank in a few places and spoke to a few locals drunk out of their minds…"

  It was one thing to know that we were piss poor and a whole another thing to be reminded about it by some stranger who went around asking about us.

  "Why would you do all that?" I asked him, grinding my teeth.

  "Because…" he said. "Given the steps the system has taken in these last fifteen years. You are as rare as one in a million right now. Any sane person would sell you into the black market to the highest bidder."

  It was in that moment. I decided to make a break and run for it. But before I could put my thoughts into motion. He had my feet clamped shut to the wooden floor with an invisible spell.

  He is a mage, I thought, and recalled the way he had waved his hand the moment he saw me. I had felt pressure on my feet back then. But I had chalked it up to fear.

  "Just who are you?" I asked him, keeping my voice steady.

  "A man who can help you," he said, with a warm smile.

  My mom was right, I thought. I should have been wary of this old man the moment I saw him.

  "So, Jack…" he smiled, having had me cornered. "Want to help out your family?"

  *****