I thought about it.

Not too deeply.

I wasn’t one to sit around dissecting every possible outcome like a scholar lost in their books. But I wasn’t reckless, either.

Money. Resources. Growth.

Those were the three things that mattered.

But most importantly, I was promised safety and freedom.

We weren’t struggling. My family lived comfortably. But there were things I wanted for Bobo—things I knew could push his progress even further.

Rhyzar had already warned me: our training was going to move to the next level soon. Harder. More specific. Focused on refining every part of Bobo’s body to create a solid foundation.

And resources?

Resources made all the difference.

Not just for Bobo.

For Marshmallow. For Chia.

For me.

A surplus of wealth meant more options. If I had the means, I could help the people around me. Maybe even give Chia the kind of financial security she didn’t have.

Because if I wanted to stand on my own—not just as my father’s son, or Rhyzar’s apprentice—I needed every edge I could get.

The idea sat in my mind, growing roots.

I turned to my mother.

“I want to do it.”

She studied me for a moment.

Then, she nodded.

“Alright.”

That afternoon, Anya returned.

She was all smiles, all confidence. She looked at me with the sharp eyes of someone who already knew the answer before I even spoke.

“Good choice, nephew.”

I exhaled. “You already knew I’d say yes, didn’t you?”

She winked. “Smart boys make smart decisions.”

Well, let's get down to business.

The contract was placed on the table. A long scroll, thick with magical inscriptions woven into the parchment itself. It pulsed faintly, reacting to the presence of mana in the air.

I wasn’t the only one reviewing it.

Mother read it first, scanning every word with the sharp gaze of someone who wasn’t just a protective parent, but a woman who had lived through the ups and downs of business herself.

Father followed, taking a steadier, more methodical approach. He wasn’t as quick, but he was thorough.

Then, Rhyzar.

His presence had been quiet until now, lounging against the wall as if this was all just an amusing distraction. But when Anya unrolled the contract, he finally moved, stepping forward with that ever-present, lazy smile that never quite reached his dangerous eyes.

Anya had tensed—just a little—when she noticed him.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Now, she was composed again.

“Sir Rhyzar,” she greeted with polite respect. “I didn’t realize you and Akul were acquainted.”

Rhyzar’s smirk widened. “Apprentice of mine.” He gestured toward me lazily. “Gotta be here when someone does business with my apprentice.”

Anya’s mind moved fast—I could practically see the gears turning behind her eyes.

She flicked a glance at Bobo, then back to Rhyzar. “I should have realized. That Golden Body Ape was a dead giveaway.”

I blinked. She caught that connection fast.

Mother chuckled. “She’s sharp, isn’t she?”

Rhyzar hummed. “Sharp people are useful. Dangerous, too.”

Anya took it as a compliment.

Then, we got to the real discussion.

The contract was fair. More than fair, actually.

Anya would handle everything—the logistics, the clients, the negotiations. I would be protected under her name, and to the maximum of her ability, it was her role to keep my involvement in the business as discreet as possible.

There were also minor inconveniences—traveling to other cities if a request required it, for example—but nothing truly risky.

I skimmed the final lines again.

The magic contract meant it couldn’t be broken easily. Once signed, I was committed—unless Anya herself voided it, or if both parties agreed to dissolve it under fair terms.

But I had the power to accept or deny any client.

I looked up.

“I’m in.”

Anya smiled. “Then let’s seal it.”

I placed my hand over the parchment. Anya did the same. Our mana pulsed, intertwining as the contract absorbed our intent. The inscriptions glowed, burning the agreement into existence.

It was done.

I exhaled.

Then—

“I have your first client ready.”

I nearly choked. “What?”

She grinned. “You heard me. I already arranged everything.”

Mother sighed. “Anya…”

She raised her hands. “What? He agreed, didn’t he? No better time than now to start making money.”

I rubbed my temples. “Okay. What is it?”

She leaned forward, her smirk widening.

“You just need to hatch an egg.”

Silence.

I blinked. “...What?”

“You heard me.” She crossed her arms. “It’s a peculiar beast egg. The client wants it hatched under specific conditions. That’s your job.”

I hesitated as I opened my mouth. Then I close it.

Then, I turned to Rhyzar.

His expression?

Mild amusement.

Yeah. Of course.

I sighed.

This was going to be interesting.

I barely had time to process signing my first contract before Anya hit me with that.

Hatching an egg.

It sounded… simple. Too simple.

And yet, nothing Anya did was ever simple. Something about the way she smirked told me there was more.

A lot more.

I crossed my arms. “Alright. What’s the catch?”

She leaned back, swirling her tea with deliberate slowness. “Oh, no catch. Just a desperate client, very, very low expectations, and an egg that no one knows how to hatch.”

I frowned. “So… I’m just a last-ditch attempt?”

“Exactly.” She beamed. “That’s why it’s perfect.”

Rhyzar chuckled, shaking his head. “Low expectations mean high reward.”

Anya snapped her fingers. “Bingo. If you fail, no one cares—client was expecting failure anyway. If you succeed?” Her grin widened. “Let’s just say we’ll be charging very generously.”

That made sense.

A safe first job.

That means I shouldn’t feel pressured to succeed.

But then she kept talking.

And that’s when things got interesting.

“This isn’t just some ordinary rare egg.” She set her teacup down, locking eyes with me. “This one is special.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Special how?”

She tapped a finger against the table. “It’s not from here.”

I blinked. “What?”

I almost laughed. Almost. But something in her eyes stopped me. She was too smug. Too pleased. Like she was about to drop something big. And then—she did.

“This egg—” She paused, letting the moment hang before dropping the bomb.

“—came from the Abyssal Tower.”

Silence.

The air shifted.

Even Rhyzar—who had been lounging like none of this mattered—sat up just a little straighter.

Mother’s eyes narrowed. “Anya…”

Father exhaled through his nose.

I swallowed.

The Abyssal Tower.

A world in itself.

A place that existed within our own but was not our own. A domain of strange, chaotic forces. A realm where laws of nature bent, where creatures that shouldn’t exist did.

It wasn’t somewhere you visited.

It was somewhere you survived.

If this egg came from there…

I looked at Anya.

She was way too excited about this.

I chose my words carefully. “You’re saying this egg came from the Abyssal Tower?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” She folded her hands. “And the client? They don’t even know what’s inside. But she told me it was a creature from the 9th floor."

Rhyzar let out a low whistle. "That’s insane."

I leaned back. “Okay. That’s… a lot.”

Anya laughed. “I know! Isn’t it exciting?”

I deadpanned. “That is not the word I’d use.”

She shrugged. “Point is, it’s rare. It’s unknown. And no one has been able to hatch it so far. Which is why the client is throwing their last gamble.”

“And if we do hatch it?”

She grinned.

"We name our price... you understand what that means?"

Rhyzar smirked. “Heh.”

Mother sighed, shaking her head. “I knew this wouldn’t be simple.”

"Father didn’t speak, but the way he stroked his beard told me he was deep in thought."

I exhaled. “Alright. When do I see it?”

Anya’s eyes gleamed.

“Oh, my dear nephew.”

She stood, stretching.

“You’ll see it first thing tomorrow.”