Dorm carefully turned the lever on the vice a little further, causing the fist-sized walnut to crack softly. He stopped and began working on the now securely fastened nut with a fine saw, meticulously cutting around the seam. Ensuring not to saw too deeply and damage the inside, he made slow progress. After what felt like an eternity, he managed to pull off the top half successfully. Inside, the nut revealed two intertwined golden-brown hemispheres, resembling human brains, as described by the alchemist who had instructed him. The thought of having something like that in his head was quite disgusting. He stretched briefly to loosen his tense limbs and then continued. Thinking nuts were a crucial ingredient for an elixir of wisdom, but their very hard shell made accessing the kernel without damage challenging. If the nut kernel was even slightly damaged during opening, it became useless.

The last three nuts had either shriveled up or had been sawed into.

Now came the delicate part: loosening the nut from the shell with a flexible knife. Dorm carefully inserted the blade along the shell and moved it back and forth to remove the joints. After a few more minutes of careful work, he put the knife away, donned thin gloves, and lifted the nut kernel out of the shell with shaky hands. Perfect. The second successful extraction of the day. He placed it on the shelf next to the others.

The supervisor, a revenant still wearing his beginner's clothes, approached: "Only two pieces? How are we supposed to meet our production targets like this?"

Dorm shrugged wearily: "It's damn difficult. There's a reason why these nuts sell for so much."

The supervisor glared down at him angrily: "Well, then you'll probably have to work for a few more hours. We need at least three more nuts by tomorrow morning."

Dorm laughed tiredly: "Forget it. My eight hours of work were over half an hour ago. I'm leaving now." He tried to get up, but the revenant pushed him back into his seat with a hand on his shoulder. Though still a novice, he had focused his attributes on strength. Dorm's jaw dropped: "That's enough! I quit."

The revenant stepped back, mockingly covering his mouth in surprise: "No. Really? What am I supposed to do now?"

Dorm stood up and grinned triumphantly: "Nothing. I can quit at any time. I'll have to read the part in my contract again, but I'll only have to work for another week at most."

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The revenant nodded thoughtfully: "Yes... there's probably nothing we can do. A contract is a contract. Go to the quartermaster and pay your debts; then he'll mark today as the start of your notice period."

Dorm stomped off but glanced over his shoulder on the way. He didn't like the revenant's nasty grin.

He found the quartermaster in his usual office, engrossed in bookkeeping. The books and pages of paper lying around were covered in ink splashes, a testament to his poor penmanship. The man looked up, annoyed: "What now?"

"I quit."

The man rolled his eyes, stood up, and went to a cupboard with many large drawers: "Name?"

"Dorm."

Without looking at Dorm, he nodded and opened one of the drawers. After a brief search, he pulled out a notebook with a few pages. He opened it and skimmed the contents: "Your current debt is 17 gold pieces, four silver pieces, and six coppers."

Dorm's jaw dropped, but he quickly regained his composure: "What's this nonsense? I don't owe the Brotherhood anything!"

"And what about this bill for all the food?"

"Board and lodging are free!"

The man grinned ominously: "Board and lodging are free... in the canteen assigned to you."

"I always ate here on the first floor below our work area."

The man nodded patiently: "Correct. But your assigned canteen according to the contract is the one at the northern vegetable market. The one here in the building has a clearly posted price list for guests."

"What? What are you doing?"

The man held out a copy of his contract and pointed to a passage on the penultimate page: "Here is the information about your assigned canteen. The food there is free for you. At the one here in the building, you are a paying guest. Since we're not interested in guests, we have correspondingly high prices."

"No one ever told me I couldn't eat there for free!"

"This is clearly visible on the sign at the entrance as a price list for guests."

Dorm became desperate: "No one told me this wasn't my real canteen!"

"It's in your contract. It's not my fault you didn't read it properly."

"What if I just leave?"

The quartermaster shrugged: "I don't care. The World Voice will probably turn you into a zombie and send you back. Or something like that. None of your colleagues have tried it yet."

"I have to tell everyone!"

"I'm sorry, but... No. To be honest, I'm not sorry that you can't do this. Your contract forbids you from talking about its contents with others. Even others who are subject to the same contract." Then he grinned spitefully, "I hereby assign you to another workhouse, per section 23 of the contract, since you verbally threatened illegal termination."

Dorm turned and tried to run through the door. Before he reached it, however, he received a warning from the voice of the world.

His steps slowed, then stopped. His shoulders slumped. It was like in the old stories. He was screwed. Even if he saved every copper coin he earned and spent the time to go to his assigned canteen, he’d need… counting three silver coins a day… about two months. If he met his work quota at his new workplace, which he doubted. And if he spent nothing. He looked at his worn clothes and shoes, remembered the soaring prices, and sighed. Yeah. That would take a while.