When Karsten and his party resurfaced from the dungeon, they were approached by a team of other Adventurers. These Adventurers were visibly older, and, judging by their gear and expressions, were a lot more experienced than your average party.

A Gnome that was walking ahead of the party, fully clad in silver-gold armour that gave Karsten the impression she was a Paladin, singled Karsten out and started asking him questions about the strange monsters they’d just fought - or, ‘Pinkies’, as they were known.

The questions were quite standard, ranging from ‘how many were they?’ to ‘how did you handle them?’. Karsten asked questions in return, asking ‘has this happened before?’ and ‘how could this have happened?’, as well as other questions to try to get a better image of the situation.

The lady didn’t want to answer many of Karstens questions, as she was technically under a non-disclosure contract with the Guild, but had given Karsten some answers as he and his party were very much a part of this incident.

As it turned out, this had, in fact, not happened at any point previously in recorded history.

These news shocked Karsten, and he couldn’t help the thought at popped up in the periphery of his mind.

‘Is this because of me?’

A somber feeling filled the transmigrator, and he felt the anxiety that had gripped at his core all this time coil tighter.

Clenching his hands in a cold sweat, Karsten did his best to subdue the emotion, as well as the thought.

It was difficult. Very difficult, but he plastered on a fake smile and tried to keep his attention at the Gnome Adventurer as she talked.

At the end of the questioning, the leader of the other party cast a mass healing spell on them, healing all their injuries and filling them with a sense of eased confidence, mercifully making Karsten’s chest feel lighter, then returned to her own party who were currently questioning the Adventurer guards on duty.

Karsten’s party talked among themselves for a while, considering the possible causes for the incident, when another person walked up to them - this time a Guild Official.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” The man said, shaking his head as he beheld the small group that looked like they had been locked in the sewer system for a year. It was as if, well, it was as if they had just been through a slime dungeon.

“On account of the Guild, I would like to extend my apologies that you lot had to step in where our employees could not. As a token of our appreciation, we will be awarding you each five silver coins for your bravery. We hope that you find this reimbursement to your liking. If not, please let me know, and I will converse with my leader to see if there is anything more we could do for you. At the same time, we advise you to keep what you have encountered here to yourselves. It would only bring public unrest if the people came to know about this, after all.”

‘Hush money…’ Karsten sneered internally. He knew very well that the reason they were given such a large sum of money was because, if it got out that the Guild failed where some rookie Adventurers had succeeded, they’d lose face with the public, and worse, with the Adventuring community.

Karsten was about to politely respond to the Guild Official when Henry stepped forward.

“You know, don’t you think five silver coins might be too little?” He said to the cleaner man, sneering. “I think I would very much enjoy you talking to your superior to see if there isn’t anything more you could do to reimburse me and my party after our traumatic experience of having to salvaging you and your organization's asses. Now, I am extremely grateful for the gracious reimbursement, but don’t you also agree, Mr. Guild Official, that we deserve more than just a little hush money? My cousin here,” Henry continued, slinging his arm around Karsten’s shoulders, “is of a frail mind,” He said, gesturing to Karsten’s golden star brooch, “and was positively paralyzed at the horrors we encountered.”

He leveled the Guild Official with a flat look. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you can do?”

“Ah… N-no, we, I-I’ll go talk to my superior… Please excuse me,” The Official, clearly not having expected talk-back from an inexperienced party, quickly scurried towards the city gate and the Guild Office.

“You’d think they’d treat potential liabilities better.” Otis said, shaking his head.

Malek nodded in agreement.

“I know, right?” Haressy said, “But what should we do now?”

Karsten took a moment to think, then answered, “I don’t think there’s much we can do here. I honestly don’t think there’s much they, the Guild, even want us to do here.”

“So you mean we should just ignore this?” Otis asked.

“I mean… yeah? What else is there to do?”

“I agree with Karsten,” Henry said, “

“I don’t know… It feels a bit strange. That poor other party.”

Malek comforted his sister, putting a hand on her back for support.

“There’s nothing we can do for them, Essy.”

“Yeah… I know.” She nodded.

“I say we just go to the next dungeon.” Henry proposed.

“But what about the Pinky?” Otis asked dejectedly.

“Listen-” Karsten was about to explain, when he realized something amiss. Looking Otis over, he asked, “Otis, and your name is Otis, right?”

“Yup.”

“...Why are you still here?”

Looks of realization dawned on the party’s members, seemingly just noticing this fact.

“Oh, er, well, I don’t know! Tagging along with you younguns seems fun. Don’t mind me.” He said, stroking his beard.

“What, so you wanna join the party?”

Otis’ arm that was stroking his black beard froze. “You’d let me?” He said, sounding hopeful.

Karsten looked to Henry and the rest of his party members.

Henry didn’t nod or shake his head, only stared flatly at the Karsten.

‘...So that’s a ‘no’ from him.’

Haressy shrugged, and Malek nodded, saying, “I think he has the necessary courage.”

“So two for, one against, huh? Seems I’m the deciding factor.”

Otis’ face grew solemn as he craned his head, looking up at Karsten.

“What’s your verdict?”

“Well, to be honest, I’d like you to join.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Otis’ eyes became even more hopeful.

“However,”

Otis deflated.

“We don’t actually know anything about you.”

“I was born on the twelfth of Solvmister, in the year 17 343. It was a cold winter day, and my mother-”

“Please stop,” Karsten interjected, raising his hand in a placating gesture, “I meant more like, ‘what kind of person are you’. Wait, how old are you, then? What year if it now?”

Otis, along with the Goliath siblings, looked at Karsten oddly.

“You don’t know what year it is?” Haressy asked.

“Er, I… Do? I’m just testing our new potential party member’s mental faculties.”

“Oh…” Seemingly accepting Karstens dumb reply, Haressy and her brother nodded in understanding.

“This year I’m turning 47, actually,” Otis said, answering Karstens question.

“Oh! So you’re still young, then.” Haressy said.

Karstens eyes widened. “Young? You look like a middle aged man, though. What age do normally Dwarves live to?”

“400, typically,” Otis answered, feeling a bit shy. “I know I’m only half a century old, and only level 2 at that, but I swear wholeheartedly that I have been preparing myself mentally to be an Adventurer my entire life!”

Karsten contemplated it for a few seconds, then shrugged as well, saying, “Yeah. Why not.”

The young, middle aged Dwarf grasped Karsten in a hug that would have broken his ribs were he not wearing his breastplate, then shook his hand enthusiastically.

“Thank you, kid! I will not forget this! So, shall we go, team? Ho, ho, ho.”

Everyone started moving back towards the city gate except Henry.

He stared at the dungeon entrance with no expression in particular on his face, then looked to Karsten.

He sighed, then followed after the others.

~~~

When the party entered the Guild Office in the city, they were told to wait until the day after to receive the ‘hush money’ as well as the answer from the superior of the Official they’d talked to outside the slime dungeon.

As they left the Office, they decided on visiting Medoly to test Karstens Song of Rest in order to see if it could be of any help to her.

They walked leisurely through the city, and soon started nearing the Kerdan family house in the outskirts of the city.

As they approached the house, though, what they were met with wasn't what any of them had expected.

Slamming the door open, a drunk, middle aged man with a tousled hairdo stumbled gracelessly out of the house's entrance, his face turning beet red with rage the second his eyes met his sons.

Henry cringed as he saw his father starting to walk drunkenly towards him.

The drunken man, Henry’s father, looked at his son with pure disdain, and spat.

“YOU!”

~~~

Storming towards his son, Beldur Kerdan’s mind swirled with memories of all the times he’d helped the rotten brat.

Every time the boy acted out he had disciplined him properly, leaving only a fraction of the bruises his own father had left on himself when he was young.

He had fed the boy when he was hungry, and had always bought him new attires when old ones went out of style.

He had slaved away for his disgusting, noble friends for years, all to butter them up so that, when Henry was ready, he could rise to noble status more easily than he himself would ever be able to. He had toiled, struggled, and pulled all strings available to give his son the easy life he himself had always dreamed of, but he…

He had decided to turn against him. There was no mercy in his heart as he looked at the filthy peasant his son had become, dirtied by mud and surrounded by four, equally as filthy ‘friends’.

His boy had nothing but contempt for him. He knew that. The feeling was mutual.

Spitting on the ground, he tried to speak reason into the lost boy.

“YOU! Do you know what you’re doing!? Your very standing before our home, covered in muck like a sewer rat, brings shame upon our house! I have told you this again and again, Henry, but you refuse to listen! House Kerdan has a history that spans earlier than the Cataclysm, and here what do you do?”

“...”

Henry looked at his father hatefully, yet it almost looked as if he was bored. It was obvious that he had been on the receiving end of such speeches for quite some time.

“You do not listen!” The man continued, spittle flying out of his mouth as he talked.

Stepping forward in a frenzy, he tried to hit the insolent brat, but as his raised hand was about to strike down, it was stopped abruptly in mid air by a gray hand much bigger than his own.

~~~

The Monk took hold the strange man’s arm, firmly.

Malek had always been a gentle person, always preferring to stay silent in conversations to hear the other people talk, and he had never, not once, lost his temper.

Still, he couldn’t quite call himself a soft person. He knew what he would do if someone touched his sister.

“...U-unhand me!” The pitiful man snarled.

Malek sighed and ignored him.

It was only recently that Overkill had been formed. This didn’t stop Malek from dreaming, however.

His dreams were filled with grand images of the party’s potential, fulfilled. What he saw in their future was glory and conquest. There was no space for those who moved against them.

The Goliath looked down on the small man standing in his party member’s way with apathy.

He did not care for the scum who meant harm to his allies.

Squeezing his hand slightly, he heard a snapping sound coming from the intoxicated man's forearm.

“Aargh!!” The man groaned, tugging at Malek's fingers with his other, still unbroken hand.

Seeing that his tugging and scratching at the stone-like skin had no effect, the drunkard turned to his son.

“Do you see this!? Tell him to let me go!”

“I see it, dad. I just don’t think its…”

Henry’s words trailed off. Turning to look at him, Malek saw his teammate’s face locked in a fierce stare directed at the weak man’s hands.

“Why… are your hands bloody?” Henry asked with gritted teeth.

His father scoffed dericively.

“Hah! You think I’m thick in the head?? Huh? I knew your sister was in on your little plan to ruin our name the moment I saw her face this morning! I told her to stop acting like a common harlot. And you know what she did!? She pushed me! I was only lucky an associate was present, or she would have killed me! Never before in my life has that daughter of a whor-”

*SNAP!!!*

“AARGH!!!”

Holding the man's now detached arm, Malek kicked the man to the ground. The old man hit the ground with a whimper, then lay there, still, not daring to move.

Ignoring his crying father, Henry used a movement Skill, practically teleporting across the short distance between himself and the house. Entering through the open doorway, he rushed through the entryway and into the living room.

What met him inside was the sight of a stranger in a dark green, hooded cloak leaning on the couch in the living room. With his back facing the entrance, he folded a piece of black cloth that seemingly pulled in the light around it.

There were pools of blood in the middle of the floor.

Feeling his heart sink, Henry used another movement Skill and launched at the man, taking him by surprise and grabbing him by the throat.

“WHERE IS SHE!?” He growled, barely keeping tears from forming in his eyes.

The man didn’t respond, only showing a fleeting look of surprise. He brandished his dagger, but didn’t manage to cut Henry before he was thrown across the room and crashed against the opposing wall.

He fell to the floor, nimbly landing on his feet. As Henry was about to pursue him, however, he bolted, clearly also capable of using movement Skills.

Just as Karsten rushed into the room, the hooded man broke through a window, at the same time becoming invisible.

Henry wanted to follow the man, but stopped as he knew it was pointless. It was obvious he’d only managed to grab the man initially because he’d somehow managed to take him by surprise. The hooded man was likely higher leveled than him, as his neck didn’t immediately crack under Henry’s strength, and was likely of a Class specialized in stealth. There was no chance Henry was going to be able to track the man.

Even though it had only been a few seconds, the hooded man could be anywhere. Karsten was only level 4, yet had already unlocked a teleportation Spell, after all.

Closing his eyes to calm himself, and miserably failing, he raced up the stairs, hoping his sister would be there.

She wasn’t.

“Henry-”

“Shut up!” Henry snapped. “Shut up, Karsten. I know.”

Eyes darting around the room, he thought back to what he had just seen. The man. The black cloth.

‘A black handkerchief… A Portable Hole!’

He recognized the magical item. It was an item called a Portable Hole that acted as a storage space, just as a bag of holding did.

He knew what that likely implied, however, and it terrified him.

Nothing could survive staying in a storage space for long. Even his sister, a level 4 Ranger, would only be capable of surviving for up to ten minutes.

“Karsten, give me my spear.”

Karsten looked at his party member soberly. “Henry, I don’t think-”

“Karsten!”

Karsten closed his mouth.

“My sister… My sister might still be alive. I’m gonna fucking kill that bastard, so give me my spear.”

Seeing the Bard hesitate for a couple seconds, Henry was about to assault the man when Karsten finally opened his bag of holding and pulled out the handle of the spear. Before the spear was fully out of the bag, Henry snatched it out of Karsten’s hands and started running down the stairs.

Trying his best not to step into the pools of his sister’s blood, he ran out of the house and started sprinting towards the city gate.

It was the only place Henry could think of that he thought the hooded man could have run off to.

“Henry…!” His father called weakly from the ground.

When Henry laid eyes upon his crippled father, anger blazed in his eyes.

“You fucking did this!”

Not letting the accursed man say another word, the son spun his spear in a horizontal arc as he passed the old man, separating his head from his body in one swift motion.

As he ran past his father's corpse, all he grieved was the forward momentum he’d lost when killing the man.

Dashing, he left his childhood home behind and ran towards the city streets.

~~~

Selenia slammed the door of her small home in the outskirts of the city closed with a loud thud.

Panting, she got out of her hotel uniform, fumbling the buttons over and over again as her hands shook in fear.

What if he had seen her? What if he remembered her uniform?

Her day had been normal. She had gone to work at The Gildering Dex like normal, visited the marketplace to buy herself dinner like normal, and and taken a scenic route home like normal.

Therefore, she had been frightened out of her skin when she witnessed the one and only Henry Kerdan murdering a man in cold blood - a poor man that was begging him to stop.

She hyperventilated, not knowing what she should do.

Henry Kerdan, along with his cousin, Karsten, had stayed at the hotel she worked at just a few days prior.

A chill crept up her spine as she sat down on the floor, hugging herself.

By all her might, she wished she hadn’t seen anything. She wished it’d just stayed a normal, boring day.

Ballux knew, she wanted nothing to do with this horrid situation.

But her conscience wouldn’t let her do nothing…

She couldn’t let a murderer go unpunished. She couldn’t. It wasn’t in her heart to do so.

Putting on her old, worn clothes, still trembling, she hid in her bedroom, under the covers.

In the morning, she didn’t sign in for work. A hood covering her face, she hurried out of her home in the slums, in a half-run towards the Wolf District.

Selenia knew she was powerless to do anything herself.

The Council had to know about this.