After days of travel, the party finally approached the dilapidated city walls of Kerring, the city closest to the border in Korythia.

Looking at the city from up-close, it was a place that oozed ‘Neutral Evil’, and a promise of lawlessness hung in the air that made one want to always look over one’s shoulder as they walked.

This made the city the perfect place for the party, however. They would most certainly not be the only illegal Adventurers trotting around, after all, as cloaked individuals were like drops in the ocean here.

They would sneak in, then sneak out to go to wild dungeons in the area whenever they could during the day, treating whatever Inn or Tavern they happened upon as their home base.

Or, that was the idea, anyway.

The city was rather large, though not as large as Cerdansk, and almost entirely flat. It looked as if it was standing on stilts, two, sometimes three or more meters over the wet swamplands below.

It baffled Karsten that the gigantic structure was even standing. He explained it away as magic and went back to taking in the sight of the city.

With its intricate mish-mash of wooden houses and gloomy air that reeked of everything abhorrent, it looked like a perfect mix of Lake-Town and Riften to Karsten.

He drew in a deep lungful of air, then coughed it out immediately when the smell came with it.

‘... And the Dwarves went through a toilet in a place like this? I can only commend their willingness...’

Even with the air being of the quality that it was - which was to say, a low one - Karsten would have been the biggest fanboy-tourist ever if it weren’t for the fact that himself and his party were currently illegal immigrants, and going about things with his usual flair would in no uncertain terms get them arrested.

As such, the side-streets, rowdy Inns and lightless alleyways of this swamp city would be their home for approximately the next three weeks.

“Sighhh.” He let out a soulless sigh.

“What?” Henry asked in a subdued tone. He’d been glaring people down since they entered the city, claiming they needed to ‘look the part’ unless they wanted people to mess with them. Karsten hadn’t listened.

“I can smell a BBQ stall from the marketplace,” Karsten answered. “I can already tell that sauce is to die for… Sigh…”

“Go die for it then. While you’re at it, might as well share some with all of the Officials that are hanging out there. I bet they’ll be happy to see you.”

“Rude.”

“You know why we can’t go there, Karsten.”

“Yeah… I know.”

Karsten slumped.

Then, he had an idea that he felt stupid for not having had sooner.

Raising his hand, palm up and open, he pulled from his body’s natural Magica reservoir, feeling lightning shoot through his arm. In his hand, a chicken BBQ skewer practically popped into existence.

Casting Prestidigitation two more times, he flavored the meat and heated it until it started to steam.

Drawing in a heavenly breath of chicken, Karsten chomped down on the skewer. A satisfied hum came out of him as he relished in the taste of authentic Earthen BBQ chicken.

Well, in truth, it wasn’t even approaching being authentic, but Karsten cast such depressing thought out if his mind as he chewed.

“Isn’t that way overpowered?” Henry asked, his eyes on the skewer.

“Hmmph? Oh, this? Nah, it's not. I wish... It only lasts for an hour, and doesn’t actually have any nutrition. It’s not technically real, after all, it’s just a Spell.”

“Hmm,” Henry responded monotonously. He’d somehow managed to hide his envy as he spoke.

“You want one, don’t you?”

“No. I'm not interested.”

“Sure, buddy,” Karsten grinned and continued chomping down on his food. “Either way, I can only have free fings active at the fame time, so you’re outta luck. Want one later?”

Henry didn’t answer, but his glare softened somewhat.

Karsten chuckled.

‘Such a tsundere.’

~~~

The party Overkill spent a large chunk of their remaining funds on black cloaks with big, deep hoods that cast shadows on their faces and gave the party a certain air of mystique that made Karsten’s inner chuuni, 15-year-old self bubble up to the surface.

He tried, and failed, to push it back down.

“This is awesome.” He whispered as they stalked through an alleyway, all their faces obscured by deep shadows.

“I know, right!? This is awesome!” Haressy giggled.

It seemed she was a fellow chuuni at heart, and it warmed Karsten’s heart.

“Aye, nothin’s quite like skulking around undercover,” Otis humorously mused, and Karsten couldn’t help questioning the Rogues' background.

With his various comments and obvious insights into the ‘Underbelly’ of this world, it seemed the Dwarf really fit the stereotype of a Rogue rather well.

Still, Karsten didn’t think such a thought held much merit, at least not at the moment. The man hadn’t shown any ill intent towards himself or the other party members yet, and had filled an empty spot on the team that might have cost the party dearly if had remained empty, so Karsten figured excessive suspicion would only lead to unnecessary turmoil in the team's cohesion.

Plus, Karsten genuinely liked the guy. He was funny, had a warm personality and was generally easy-going.

If you looked away from his obsession over Abnormals, anyway.

In addition to this, ever since his first, and only, quest, he’d wanted to recruit a Dwarf into his party after talking to the Dwarf at Dirk Dillan’s warehouse outside Cerdansk, so he didn’t want to give the guy the boot for no reason.

Or course, if Otis really was a person of deplorable character, Karsten wouldn’t hesitate to distance himself from him.

The same went for the siblings.

Well, maybe not the Goliaths… They were veritable geniuses in combat, after all. Veritable gold mines, really. And they were Goliaths, so although their moral compass might be a little bit questionable, their boosting of the team was undeniable.

Karsten sighed again and finished his skewer, at the same time dismissing the magical effects of the Spell.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

He then sighed again as he felt his full stomach once more becoming empty.

~~~

Even with the party’s new ‘air of mystique’, they didn’t attract any apprehensive gazes as they walked from alley to alley.

They were truly a dime a dozen. They saw many groups loitering about, hunched over or crouching individuals with a similarly unapproachable vibe.

They were headed towards the north-eastern side of the city, where the slums were located.

Karsten was somewhat apprehensive at the thought of what the slums of a place like this was like, given how lawless the common areas already were.

Not because it was ‘filthy’ or because it wasn’t up to Karstens standards in regards to hygiene, as in contrast to Karsten’s previous reactions, he wasn’t really an overly organized person himself, to say the least.

Rather, it was because of the genuine danger that loomed there. The slums of this city was the place where the heads of the different Kerring-based gangs had their headquarters, and even many, if not most, of the establishments there were owned by their respective organizations.

This obviously included the various Taverns and Inns that were located there.

What made Karstens anxiety rise even more was the knowledge that the Guild had most definitely put up a bounty on the party. He didn’t know how high this bounty would be, as the man they killed truly was deplorable, but even then, it had to be more than what they’d get for petty thievery.

Karsten was also willing to bet there was a wanted poster of himself circulating around somewhere. He almost wanted to conjure up a straw hat to match the occasion.

What made his nerves subside a little was that Otis said it was highly likely there was an Inn or Tavern there that would accommodate them without asking questions, so in the end, Karsten tried to let it go and chose blind faith over what was most likely needless worry.

As he mused on how high his bounty would be and what his face on it looked like, he noticed a commotion on a narrow street up ahead.

It was a small group of three men and a woman, all in official Guild uniforms, circled around a burly man that seemed to be roughly Karstens age.

The man's fist was bloody, and his expression was less than friendly.

He was looking at the female Official with daggers in his eyes, clearly trying to stare her down, and the Official looked back at him impassively.

Karstens eyes lingered on the scene, and that turned out to be the single stupidest mistake he’d ever made.

Just as he and his party was about to duck into the next alleyway, the female Official, apparently having some kind of sixth sense for when someone was looking at her, turned her eyes sharply in Karstens direction.

Their eyes met, and both Karstens’ and the woman’s eyes widened.

A still second went by as they both looked at each other, Karsten having frozen in place at his own reckless stupidity and the woman with a look of recognition, along with a twisted smile, blooming on her face.

“Shit.” Karsten cursed, pushing into Henry that was walking in front of him. “We need to move, now.”

Henry was about to curse back at him, when they all heard the female Official yell.

“HEY! YOU THERE!”

“Shit! Go, go!”

Realizing they’d been recognized, Malek picked up Otis and the party took off running as fast as their legs could carry them into the adjacent alley.

They heard the Officials yell after them in hot pursuit, and they quickly realized that, although they were faster than the Guild Officials by virtue of being higher leveled, there were more than just the four that had spotted them.

As they ran out of the alley and across the next street, they saw another group of Officials running towards them, clearly having been notified by one of the other Officials though unknown means.

Then it dawned on Karsten -

“The ‘Message’ Spell!”

“Shit,” Henry cursed under his breath, realizing how deep in the substance they were.

As more and more Officials gravitated towards them, many civilians ducking out of the way and scuttering into their homes to not get caught up in whatever was happening, Karstens mind churned.

‘What the fuck are we supposed to do? What can we do? What the fuck even is this situation?’

As Karstens breathing became more and more uneven, something he wouldn’t have imagined ina million years happened.

A Gnome with a pointed, red cap popped out of a window in the alleyway up ahead, shouting, “Over here! Quick!”

“Huh??”

“Quick! Quick!”

The small man’s voice was the personification of a rat's squeal, and entirely nasal. Karsten would’ve thought he was hallucinating if it weren’t for the reactions of his party members.

They all glanced at each other, trying to come to a unanimous decision within the single second they had to think about it before the Guild Officials came down on them.

Everyone nodded, and they beelined towards the window, practically throwing themselves through it.

Somehow, even Malek managed to squeeze his way in. Karsten had to hand it to him - he was an incredibly dexterous Monk.

When they were all inside, the bearded Gnome waved at them from an open door at the other side of the room with a snicker.

Hearing shouts behind them, the party quickly followed after the Gnome, quickly weaving through different connected houses.

Some of the shabby living rooms and kitchens they ran through had people occupying them that quickly ducked out of the way as the party passed.

“Sorry! Sorry,” Karsten said as he accidentally bumped into a young girl in his haste to follow the tiny man.

The red-capped Gnome was entirely too fast. It almost seemed as if the guy was intentionally slowing down his pace to allow the party to stick to his heels.

In the midst of fleeing, Karsten couldn’t help wondering what the short man’s level was.

A few minutes of domestic parkour later, the Gnome suddenly turned at a sharp angle, Malek almost crashing into the wall in front of him. He only managed to catch himself because of his Dexterity stat being what it was.

The Gnome snickered and waved at them to follow him, ducking behind a staircase.

Rushing over, they saw an open hatch discreetly hidden under the stairs, leading down to what looked like an inky abyss.

The party members briefly shared looks with each other, but followed him in the end.

The hatch dropped into a cold, dank and barely lit passageway that wouldn’t look out of place underneath some ancient sanguine castle.

After running - fretfully, in Karstens case - through the passage for another fifteen minutes, the Gnome and Karsten’s party finally stopped when they entered a large commonroom-looking area where multiple other people could be seen lounging on sofas or gambling at grand, engraved wooden tables. There was a bar going along the entire eastern wall, and a chandelier that looked to be made of clear crystals hung from the high ceiling.

The walls were bare, showcasing a blend of rock and crystal that mingled with each other, forming a breathtaking spiral pattern that covered the room that looked like a medieval style cavern.

The air was heavy, almost like it was a different substance than air entirely, and Karsten immediately felt his heart sink.

As the group entered, many eyes, some hidden within dark hoods, but most out in the open, went to them - scanning them.

A few chuckled.

A few rose from their seats.

A few left through the opposing exit.

“You’re that group, right?”

The Gnome suddenly spoke in a normal voice, turning around. A vicious smile played on his lips. He’d posed it as a question, though it was apparent from his tone that it was more like a rhetorical statement.

He knew exactly who they were.

Karsten drew in a breath.

“You’re the idiots who tried tracking down the Baron, aren’t you?” Another man said, having risen from his seat on a leather couch.

The lady he’d been talking to remained seated, an amused look on her face as she observed the situation unfold.

Taking in the varied expressions on the faces of the Overkill party members, the Gnome scoffed.

“Ha! What? You think you wouldn’t be recognized? A party of Idiot 1 and Idiot 2 and a couple of Goliaths wouldn’t go unseen anywhere, I am afraid, cloaked or not.”

“...What the fuck did you just say?” Henry seethed.

“What? ‘Cloaked’?”

“No, asshole,” Henry spat, and certain gazes that were on him turned hostile, “‘The Baron’?”

The Gnome looked confused for a second before laughing.

“Oh! Of course, ha, ha. I imagine you especially would be very interested in him, Mr. Kerdan.”

All humor fell from his demeanor.

“He is the man who killed your lovely sister, after all.”

Not managing to stop his companion in time, Karsten watched as Henry shot forward… and then was shot back.

Karsten hadn’t seen the Gnome move, but a resonating BOOM sounded from behind him, and he almost hesitated to look back.

When he did, he saw Henry, lying on the ground, the stone wall behind him having cracked from the impact, a spider web etched into the stone.

There was a hole in the Spearman’s chest, and blood was flowing freely from the open wound.

“So, let’s have a chat, eh?” The Gnome continued, sounding entirely casual, not at all like he was currently holding their party member’s heart in his hand.