Michael hadn't been expecting much when he had taken a basic escort contract for the Chinese guy. The old mayor—or the real mayor, as they were supposed to call him—had connected them, but that was normal. Hawk was good about doing favors for his friends. Sure, now he couldn't do quite as many favors since he had officially been ousted, and a lot of his friends weren't listening to him any more. But for Michael, that was mostly a good thing. As one of Hawk's few remaining friends, all he had to do was listen to the little man rant about traitors for a bit, nod every once in a while, and then he'd get showered in favors.

He didn't know anything about the Chinese guy, other than the fact that he was big and high-level. Michael didn't really need to know more. Especially when he heard that they were going after Joshua Hundredborn, who also happened to be their new mayor.

Michael wasn't exactly a City bootlicker. He wouldn't be out here, miles past the Burn Line, if he was willing to sing along with the City, and he hadn't paid their taxes since he ran away from home. But the idea of someone stealing a bloodstone was infuriating. It was like he had taken the hope of humanity and ripped it right out of their chests. He tried to hold tight to his anger, to look at the situation logically, but it was hard. He didn't know how any of the man's allies could stand being near him. They had to know what he had done.

Tracking Hundredborn wasn't hard. He wasn't trying to hide. It was Michael who spotted the man's little party heading to the pit, and he reported it back to the big guy via radio. Following him down was just a matter of waiting for the next lift. Michael kept an eye on Hundredborn from above with a small spyglass, so they knew where to go. They had set up a perimeter outside the tunnels and waited. Hou Zheng even took the time to explain the plan, which was appreciated. Hawk liked his plans to be surprises, even to his allies.

Joshua Hundredborn was a big man, to the point that he looked like Hou Zheng's little brother instead of a child next to an adult. He had the broad build of a man who did a lot of physical labor, and the broad grin of a man who did a lot of hugging. He had an ax on his belt, but also a number of other tools like files, chisels, and measuring tapes. He wore battered wooden armor that had been slashed, bitten, burned, and dissolved in acid in a few places. He also had a mask to obscure his level, which was common out here.

However, when Hundredborn came out, things got... weird. Not too weird, but Michael had spent too much time around Hawk to fail to notice. There were things the two men specifically weren't saying. Secrets they were talking around. Michael did appreciate that Hou Zheng apparently wasn't going to just blurt out those secrets and kill Michael and the boys later, but still, it was disturbing.

Then Hou Zheng tossed Hundredborn a bloodstone.

Neither of them said what sort of bloodstone it was, but Michael wasn't an idiot. If this was worth giving to someone, it was something besides the eight they already had. Probably besides that Woodcrafter bloodstone, in fact.

Hou Zheng gave up that bloodstone without a second thought. As nothing but a bribe to get someone to listen to him. Why hadn't he given it to someone else? Someone who could actually use it? Even if it wasn't a [Utility] bloodstone, it had to be something interesting. Michael had heard stories about lost classes. Even in the Basic-tier, there were some impressive ones. Hell, his own favorite class took a bit of work to get to. The right bloodstone would make his life a lot easier.

That bloodstone brought up a lot of questions. Michael wasn't sure he liked those questions.

Hou Zheng and Hundredborn walked into the tunnels together, alone. Michael and his boys had been warned this might happen. If there was any chance of this being resolved peacefully, they needed to talk alone. Michael hadn't known Hou Zheng for long, but he was confident that his desire for peace was genuine.

Michael, his three buddies, and the assassin all stayed behind. Mary the Gunner girl, Anna the lead hunter, and Beor the ex-bodyguard all stood there glaring. Hawk wanted Beor's head on a spike, but none of them were stupid enough to pick that fight unless they had to. The only reason Michael had even agreed to come down with Beor against them was because Hou Zheng had promised that his assassin could handle him.

“So,” the Gunner girl said. Mary, that was her name. “Kun. It was nice fighting beside you in the dungeon.”

Michael kept his face clear with long practice. Why did they think her name was Kun?

Mary continued as if she didn't expect an answer. “I don't normally get a chance to run with backstab types, you know?” she said. “Sure, pure stealth types, we've got a few of those among the reclaimers. Hell, I'd even call it common. But I normally run with Josh alone, and he prefers straight fights.” She shrugged. “So do I, for that matter.”

She received no answer.

Awkward silence fell. It stretched on for several long minutes. Michael and his boys stood there silent as tombstones. They had done escort and guard duty before, they could stand around for hours. Beor too. He may as well have been a metal statue for how much he moved. Mary and Anna, on the other hand, twitched around as if they hadn't ever heard of the concept of standing still.

Eventually, they were interrupted by something entirely unexpected: The tunnel they had been watching suddenly filled in with dirt and stone. It wasn't as smooth as the walls of the pit; it looked like someone had created a slurry of mud and gravel, then shoveled it into place and let it dry for a couple days. It wasn't particularly solid, but it certainly blocked the passage effectively.

Everyone stared at it for several long moments, just trying to process what had happened. It was clear that someone had done this on purpose. Michael was putting money that it had been the [Crafter], isolating the two of them from everyone else. There probably weren't any other exits from those tunnels.

That wasn't his problem, though. Because after a moment's pause, everyone left broke into combat.

The assassin moved first. She shifted into shadow and went straight for Anna, who dodged with a wild laugh like a crazed animal. She'd always been unstable, and Michael spared her little thought.

Mary immediately started shooting at the boy closest to her. Michael signaled for all three of them to go after her, then focused on his own problem: Beor was charging towards him. Michael cursed. Beor was not supposed to be his opponent. Michael ran up to meet his charge, grit his teeth, and punched Beor's incoming fist.

People looked down on the Thug class, for obvious reasons. It was a very simple class. It was technically a Strength and Constitution class, but really everything about it was focused around Constitution. All its techniques were designed around Constitution, and it wasn't uncommon for people to put literally all their points into that one stat. It was the archetypal class for toughs and dumb muscle. Even more so was Tough Thug, the Improved-Tier class that Michael had. Literally no one he had ever met had been impressed by his class choice.

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That was fine. Michael only cared that it made him very hard to hurt.

Beor's punch made Michael's hand hurt, but Beor winced far more than he did. Michael shook off the numbness from Beor's technique, then continued on the attack. The Thug class—and Tough Thug—was an [Attacker] class, but it acted like a [Defender] in most respects. The point was to soak up the damage and create opportunities.

To do that, and to take advantage of the massive stamina pool that the class was expected to have, the class utilized stance techniques. A lot of stance techniques. Every stance technique reserved a portion of the stamina pool, and Michael had at least three active at all times. The second he had known that he might be facing Beor, he swapped out his active stance techniques for something more suited to fighting a Ring Brawler.

[Stand Firm] was one of the basic stance techniques granted by the Thug class. It rendered him practically immune to most purely physical effects, like stuns and knockbacks. That right there nullified one of Beor's biggest strengths. [Stand Ready] reduced all debuff durations for things that did get through his defense, preventing Beor from just punching through and stacking minor debuffs until he went down.

Beor punched him twice in quick succession, but Michael just blocked them both with his forearms. Without Beor's full strength, they were barely a breeze, and Michael felt confident enough to counter with a punch of his own. It wasn't a technique, just a punch, but Beor still had to dodge. Michael had a decent Strength.

Still, Beor had more experience fighting humans. He kept his fists up in a boxing stance, bouncing on his feet to be ready to attack. Michael punched again, still without a technique, and Beor took the opening. He slipped by Michael's attack, then responded with a hefty kidney shot. That was a common tactic against physical-type fighters. Hitting a vital organ sapped some of their stamina, limiting their options. Against a Thug, it was even more effective, as they could fall out of a stance technique if their stamina dipped too low.

Instead, Michael just grunted. His [Resist Pain] stance technique greatly reduced the stamina and mana damage caused by getting hit somewhere vulnerable. He punched back, and this time he did use a technique. [Heavy Blow] wasn't fancy, but it certainly made an impact. His fist landed on Beor's crossed arms with a crack, and the other man had to step back, hissing in pain.

However, Michael made a mistake. Instead of pressing the attack, he stepped back, returning to position. Thug might officially be an [Attacker] class, but it acted like a [Defender]. He was too used to just waiting to absorb blows. In fact, he was used to letting Beor handle the offense while he handled the defense.

Beor recognized the mistake and immediately took advantage. He rushed forward, using lightning-fast techniques to hit Michael as many times as possible in as many places as possible. It felt like he hit a thousand times in one minute, and Michael only managed to block a fraction of them. All he could do was keep his arms up and retreat backwards even as he took the blows.

Eventually, Michael's back hit one of the large mushrooms that dotted the pit's floor. He dropped instinctively, and Beor's next punch obliterated the stalk of the mushroom. The cap fell, and Michael scrambled backwards on his hands, keeping the cap between himself and Beor.

He didn't have long. He stood up, steadied his breathing, and prepared himself again. Beor had done quite a number on him. There was blood in his mouth, he was covered in aches and bruises, and he was pretty sure that he had hairline fractures in his arms.

However, he had one other advantage: His [Healing Aura]. It was his only spell, and it was obviously an aura. It had been very difficult to obtain. His was a physical class, so gaining any magical ability was hard. Auras were even harder. He had trained with [Healers] and anyone else he could find with an aura. It had taken years until he even got the spell the first time, and longer until he could get it reliably. He had practiced the meditation and tricks to gain an aura as fast as possible over a dozen resets. It was a huge advantage over other Thugs, and since it reserved mana instead of stamina, it didn't even cut into the number of stance techniques he could use.

When he had it active, it reserved everything but a single point of his mana, meaning that if he took a bad blow to the head he'd lose all the mana he had left and would suffer debilitating manaburn. Not to mention lose the benefit of the aura.

But he had managed to get through that fight without any real blows to his head, and the few he did take couldn't push past his [Resist Pain] stance technique. His aura went to work, weaving in mana from the air to restore his injuries. He'd be back to perfect shape in minutes.

Of course, Beor wasn't about to give him minutes.

Beor had not been Hawk's favorite bodyguard for sentimental reasons. He bashed through the mushroom forest straight towards Michael like a bulldozer, and this time he wasn't messing around. Michael saw metal knuckles on his fingers, glowing with enchantment. He didn't know what they did, but Beor owned an entire arsenal of enchanted weapons, and not one of them was useless.

Michael had asked him, once, why he didn't use his enchanted weapons all the time. Enchantments didn't wear out. In fact, using them enforced their magic. So why not use them more? Why carry so many enchanted weapons with him all the time if he wasn't willing to use them in every fight?

Beor's explanation had been simple: All his non-lethal techniques required him to be unarmed. Using weapons meant he was fighting to kill.

Beor's knuckle dusters glowed red like blood as they came racing towards Michael's face, and he accepted that he couldn't hold back either. He ducked the first blow, then punched as hard as he could at the next strike. Again, he didn't use a technique, but he had decent Strength, and incredible Constitution. When their fists met, Beor's hand cracked like an ancient tree branch under too much weight, while his own barely felt sore. Beor hissed and pulled his hand back, but jabbed rapidly with his other hand. Michael trapped his arm in a hold and used the leverage to wrestle Beor to the ground.

The man slammed face-first into the mud and grass that was the floor of the pit. Michael kept his uninjured arm pinned, while he dug his knee into the man's spine to discourage rebellion.

“It's over,” Michael said, breathing hard. “Surrender.” The fact that Beor had pushed him to this point, with his Constitution, was a sign of his ridiculous skill. And this had been an easy fight, relatively speaking. Michael had sparred with Beor multiple times. This was easier than usual.

In fact...

Michael looked back the way he had come, following the trail they had crashed through the mushroom forest with his eyes. He didn't see anything. He didn't hear anything.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

Beor twisted his face up to smirk at him. “Healing aura,” he said.

Michael frowned. “Yes, I have that. You know I do. What does—” His eyes widened. “My boys.”

He didn't waste any more time. He hit Beor with a [Heavy Blow] right on the spine, which should hopefully incapacitate him for long enough for Michael to get away. He got up and ran back towards the others as fast as he could.

[Healing Aura] had an area of effect, like most auras. Not a very big one, as his Sensitivity was nothing to write home about, but enough to give his boys a boost. As long as he stayed close. As long as he didn't get drawn away from the fight like an idiot who had never fought in a group before!

By the time he got back, it was too late. All three of his boys were down, Anna casually sitting on one, and Mary holding the other two at gunpoint while they lay flat on their faces. They had already been tied up and everything.

Of the assassin, there was no sign.

Michael slowed as he ran up. Anna and Mary saw him, but neither reacted with more than a raised eyebrow. A moment later, he heard footsteps in the underbrush behind him. Beor had recovered faster than he expected.

Michael sighed and held up his hands. “I surrender.”

He could at least go out with dignity.