Two men, one with a wooden leg and the other with a missing eye and a few fingers, walked through the hustle and bustle of the Pratus market.

It was a day as sunny as they made them in Amorium. The air was warm and just a little wet—perfect, you could say.

The air was filled with the aroma of roasting meat, freshly baked bread, and various spices cultivated in the Green Stretches.

Everything smelled great.

Even if the pair could somehow visit Earth, they would have likely made a U-turn after the briefest of strolls through the city. That’s how nice Amorium was.

In fact, they would have seen Earth as something with mostly just bigger things. Bigger buildings, bigger companies, bigger transportation, bigger… well, not everything was indeed bigger back on Earth.

Ok, New York rats were definitely bigger, but that was a different thing.

…

Tiberius ran a hand through his cropped hair, absently scratching the back of his neck. He hesitated for a moment, his expression contorted in a grimace, and then followed his friend with unsteady steps.

“Quintus, are you sure about this?” Tiberius asked.

“I’ll be rotten to the core if I don’t do this,” Quintus replied to his friend brusquely.

They had just finished working. Clodia had told them to report back to her if Joey had any other crazy ideas—she had seemed very tired from the previous night.

One would have thought that making more chocolate and mille-feuille would have put her in a good mood. Instead, she had taken it as another thing they still had to learn from Joey and scale up for the market.

As they became familiar with the culture at Happy Bakery, Tiberius and Quintus uncovered the intense competition with The Three Roses. And it was understandable. They visited the place when Joey shut himself in the house. What they witnessed was truly a spectacle; throngs of people flocked to the bakery daily to sample the exquisite cakes on offer. While Flaminia was the most accomplished baker in Amorium, she couldn't possibly contend with an entire team of highly-skilled bakers and chefs on her own.

This only added to Clodia's mounting concerns. She needed to train others to meet Joey's ever-increasing demands. Each time someone called it a night without gaining a level, it was as if she was losing money.

But what really mattered at the moment, was what Quintus told Tiberius. The man became irate about the scene at the Pratus, with Joey getting beaten up by Arminius once again. And while it was true that the Human had somehow put the Elf down at the end, Quintus was still fuming about it.

Tiberius had dragged him away to go shop for some ingredients to practice with. They wanted to try and replicate some of the things for the guys back in the Pratus—but, unlike Joey, they couldn’t just freely use Happy Bakery’s ingredients.

Nonetheless, Quintus remained determined to confront the issue.

“Bothering Stan doesn’t seem like a great idea.”

“Bothering Stan, my ass,” Quintus cut the other off. “Did you see what’s happening with that idiot Arminius? Why isn’t he doing anything about that? You know damn well that the old man could unleash the dog on troublemakers. Why hasn’t he done so yet? He knows what Joey is doing. Why isn’t he helping?”

“Sometimes people just don’t want to get involved,” Tiberius shrugged.

Quintus looked at his long-time friend with fire in his eyes.

“We ain’t no filthy Humans—from Teiko, I mean,” the man caught himself halfway through the statement. “You know what I’m trying to say. We look out for each other. Why is it that now that we can help the others, Stan, who’s been helping us so far, is backing off?”

Tiberius looked at his friend and then looked at the ground, shifting his weight from the wooden leg to the good one and back. “I don’t know. It would be better if he helped, but… what are we going to tell him anyway?”

Quintus suddenly turned and grabbed Tiberius’s uniform, pulling him in a few inches from his own face.

“That boy will get himself killed,” Quintus growled. “We need to do something. I will not stand still while a bunch of treacherous cowards stab him in the back. And we need help. We are two fucking cripples, Tiberius. If Joey dies tomorrow, what’s stopping us from just falling back into poverty? A few levels as [Bakers]?”

Tiberius slowly took his friend’s hand and gave him a look.

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People walking around glanced at them but eventually went on their way, unbothered by the small commotion. It wasn’t that rare to see fights at the market. Especially when a [Merchant] was found by the man who had been swindled the day before. And it was particularly stupid to get involved with men who, given their own disabilities, might have been homeless and with little to nothing to lose.

Quintus eventually released Tiberius and stepped back.

…

“Friends,” Stan greeted the pair.

Stan was currently sitting around with other homeless people and not in his usual spot. It seemed like he was sharing some of the bread that Joey had brought. That made Quintus even angrier.

“Stan, I’ve got some mold I need to get rid of,” Quintus got straight to the point.

How could the man eat Joey’s bread and be so uninterested in what was happening to him?

“I suspect this is about our Human friend,” Stan said with a nod. “His recent fight was impressive.”

“It is about that, and yes, it was. Guys, give us some space,” Quintus addressed the little crowd around Stan. “I need to talk with Stan in private.”

Everyone quickly scrambled away. They had learned to recognize Quintus’s short temper. Plus, since the two ex-[Soldiers]-turned-[Bakers] brought all the food for free here, no one felt like getting in his way. Tiberius, who was left slightly behind, came to rest almost shoulder-to-shoulder with the other [Baker].

“Sit with me,” Stan gestured with his hand while the other hand rested on the massive dog, Grigio.

Quintus took a seat right in front of the gigantic Elf. Stan had an overall calming aura, but his sheer size was still imposing enough to intimidate even someone with a military background. There was a saying about bothering old people and getting hit with capstone skills right in your mouth. One did not mess with the older generations when they’ve had decades to get to who-knows-what-level.

“Stan, why aren’t you doing anything about Arminius?” Quintus asked.

Stan waited on the question for a moment, pondering. Or, perhaps, pondering Quintus’s icy facial expression. The older Elf’s eyes wandered to Tiberius for a second before going back to Quintus.

“What would you want me to do, friend?” Stan sighed. “Joey already came to ask for help. Things are not so simple. Every little meddling has consequences. Levels and classes are not a random happenstance; they are the sprouting buds of the seeds we plow into the ground with each of our actions.”

“Banish him!” Quintus barked. “What do we need him for?”

“Quintus!” Tiberius hissed. “We can’t banish Arminius! He’s in the same position we were in before meeting Joey!”

“I don’t hold any power over this group,” Stan stated matter-of-factly.

“Are you being serious right now?” Quintus snarled. “You don’t hold any power? Everyone looks up to you, Stan. Before Joey came, you helped everyone get enough food and build small tents. Your word is as good as Amorium’s law around here. You can do something, and you should.”

“If you want him gone, it’s going to be your problem,” Stan retorted calmly, “Arminius isn’t alone in thinking that Joey is just a nuisance that will only do harm. And the people agreeing with him are coincidentally those with even more levels and bigger debt. Do you want to spill Elven blood over this? What do you think would happen if I got him out of here? These people would get more and more desperate. I care about Joey, but I cannot just lord over other people because of him.”

Quintus was taken aback by Stan’s serious tone and demeanor. The older man had gotten too serious too quickly. There was something about his whole disposition that was off. The one-eyed [Baker] had seen many people trying to bother Stan, and never had he pushed back with anything other than kind words. That he would speak like this meant there was something hidden below the surface.

“B-but—” he stammered.

“Tomorrow, you’ll still have people wishing ill upon him. I told the young Human to stop meddling with those beyond salvation. He should live his own life—and the same goes for you two.”

“What do you mean?” Quintus asked.

“Have you enjoyed anything about this new life of yours? Have you spent any money on yourselves or on something that you wanted for yourselves? I see you both here every day, trying to make your lives as miserable as the ones here, even when you’ve got a new opportunity.”

Quintus was at a loss for words. Stan’s argument seemed pretty solid to him. He has never been one for reasoned debates, sadly. And now, looking at the old man, he tried to reach for better words, for a better interpretation of reality.

“We did not get a new opportunity,” surprisingly, it was Tiberius who spoke. “Joey gave us an opportunity. There’s a difference. And you were there with us to assist with what he did during that competition. We didn’t do anything that someone with more fingers than us couldn’t have done better. It was all Joey, Stan. Do you deny that?”

Stan shook his head, making his long, white beard flow around his torso. “He has a great talent but also wants to stir trouble, friend. He could have left Arminius to his own devices; he could have ignored him. Instead, he fell for a provocation and got hurt again.”

“So, what are we to do?” Tiberius asked with a tinge of anger in his voice. “Should we just fall back and watch as someone tries to assassinate him?”

Stan made a long pause this time.

“What do you want from your life, then?” He changed the topic. “Where do you plan to put down roots?”

“What? I don’t know?” Tiberius lowered his voice. “Listen, if Joey can help the people here, then it’s our duty to follow him. Why don’t you want to help?”

The immensely tall Elf looked into the distance in the direction of Vespasianus’s statue. It was a wistful gaze full of emotion—something rarely seen from Stan. But there was something deeper too. Everyone here carried emotional scars and traumas, but his was a gaze from a different era altogether.

“I am merely an observer. Arminius might take steps to hurt Joey, but he’s protected by [Guards] and, apparently, good friends like you two. As for what concerns me, I do not meddle. I live my life here to stay content and to observe what happens.”

It seemed like Stan wanted to add more, but the old Elf simply looked away from the general direction of the statue and back at the two.

“What if something happens to Joey, something that you could have prevented?” Quintus pressed him.

“I don’t control fate in the same way I can’t control the elements, friend. However, I wish him success in his endeavors. That’s the best I can do.”

Frustrated, Quintus got up and looked at the old man with plain disgust written across his face.

“Let’s go, Tiberius. This was useless.”

Quintus was walking away before he came to a stop and looked over his shoulder.

“One last thing, Stanimal,” Quintus used the moniker made up by Joey. “Joey might not look like it, but if he had to, he would help you with any problem you had. No matter what.”

That said, Quintus walked away.