The battle with the Lion’s mane jellyfish had lasted no longer than a minute as Emine had requested. Although, the exact details of what exactly had happened on the deck of the ferry were unknown to those who had remained within the protection of the lounge’s walls.

Well, at least due to Phineas getting his reply from Emine they were able to see what the Lion’s mane jellyfish looked like. It was not physically mutated but mentally, and as such there were no weird features added to its milky colored bell-shaped body and hair-like tentacles.

That aside, after having seen the radiant energy that covered the three Privileged members of the Raiding Division, Sam wished he could have seen how they’d used the powers in battle. The fog was thick, so all that he had been able to make out were indistinct glows and flashes.

Maybe I’ll get to see it during the raid… He hoped to himself.

Richie had come to enlighten him on what exactly the whole journey would entail at their destination. It was at Sam’s request, obviously. After all, he needed to know how they were going to waltz into the Glade he was staring at now with narrowed eyes. And, surprisingly, it was rather simple. They were not here at Bull bay to clear a Glade, they were here to take the loot from those who had cleared the Glade.

Sam’s nonchalance at the utterance of those words had made him realize one thing; he was not a normal human—mentally and emotionally.

Any other person, even if they came around to participating in the barbaric act, would first of all think against it. But not him. As long as it was a thrilling endeavor, he did not mind partaking in it.

He was already a bit sad that he was not able to fight a beast when one had attacked, but he could blame that on no one but himself. He lacked the strength, after all.

But that was all in the past now. Forty-eight hours were almost up, which meant that any moment from now the Glade adventurers would come out.

It had been two hours since the Raiding Division of the Hunters faction had made all the necessary engagements for their ambush. This was why he was staring so keenly at the Glade’s gate. His job was to announce the arrival of their victims.

“So,” it was Richie’s voice. They had both been assigned to the stakeout; of course, Richie was only here because he was tasked with looking after the new recruit. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Sam tapped his fingers on the wall of the house he was leaning against. “I’m reconsidering.”

“Reconsidering?” Richie asked. He was talking quite much now compared to before, so Sam became visibly surprised for a moment there. But he understood. Those who talked too little were the most curious of all. There was no way Richie would have been any different.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Richie paused. “I see.” He said nothing more for a few seconds, then… “The fact that you wanted to talk to me about it means I’m crucial to the plan, no?”

Sam nodded. “You are. But I don’t trust you.”

There was silence again. “Trust? Does that matter?”

“Yes,” Sam insisted. “I could let you in on my plan now and, for all I know, you could proceed to rat me out.”

Of course, he did not believe this. Richie would never rat him out, because they both felt the same hatred towards Douglas.

No. That was wrong. Richie’s was far worse.

“I won’t,” Richie refuted. “But if you insist.”

Great… Those first words were all Sam had needed to hear.

He truly did not trust Richie, but that was not something that would cause a problem for the upcoming task. In fact, that was good. Because of it he would have no choice but to prepare for any unprecedented outcome.

“Alright then,” said Sam. “This is how it’ll go…”

###

The Glade’s gate was like a stagnant ethereal waterfall, peaceful but energetic. Although, that peace was finally disturbed as another hour passed.

“A ripple. It has been activated,” Sam voiced with a deep breath, and in that instant cupped his fingers, dipped them into his mouth, and blew a whistle as Diva had taught him to.

As soon as he got a reply back, he rose to his feet, and he and Richie moved on to the next phase. Although, this did not fully involve what they had been told to do by Emine. After all, they had been ordered not to step into the heat of the battle, and that was because Sam had joined in on the raid on the prerequisite of being a mere spectator. Richie became one too in that regard, despite him already having a bit of experience under his belt. Sam was not sure how much, and he did not care, but from the mien Richie had, it was obvious that it was equivalent to at least three raids.

Sam glanced back before he’d fully evacuated the area he’d taken for his stakeout spot, and he saw the ones who had ventured into the Glade. Seven, they were, five guys and two ladies. They were visibly exhausted, and their attires were on the verge of completely crumbling.

From their demeanor Sam could deduce the sort of loss they had undergone in the Glade, and also that they had cleared it and not run away from it. After all, their strides were slow, not hasty.

It was most likely a Low Class Glade… He said to himself before sighing. Too bad for them, they were not going to rest.

###

The ambush commenced less than a minute later, as soon as the Glade had vanished without a trace.

Obviously, the adventurers were shocked by the sudden development, but they adapted quickly—in fact, almost too quickly that it seemed as though they had been prepared to be ambushed.

Sam was somewhat confused at the sight because the information brought by the scout to camp was that the adventurers were new Players who had just banded together.

He was not sure how that sort of information was figured out, but that was hardly the point at the moment.

All in all, even though the adventurers were quite exhausted, they were still holding their grounds. They had cleared a Glade, after all, and from what he’d inferred through all the conversations he’d been in, the monsters on earth paled in comparison to those beyond the ethereal waterfall of energy. In other words, they might be new and inexperienced, but they were not weak.

A spear of ice flew into a house, lodging itself into its wall with an electrifying speed that was nigh destructive. Sam’s heart palpitated for a brief moment as he watched a third of the wall freeze. He was hiding in there, watching the battle discreetly. Had he been noticed? No. He would have gotten an animosity message if that was the case.

He looked through the window down at the scene of battle flashing with varying powers on display, his gaze planted on the one who had produced the ice spear. It was a lady, her hands emitting a great deal of chilly smoke, and the one engaging her was Emine.

Is she the strongest of the adventurers? Sam wondered. She was really powerful, he could feel it. However, he was not one bit worried about the Raiding Division losing. After all, they were the ones with the advantage. They had set up traps and they had a larger number. He subconsciously wondered if he would get to see the powers of the Privileges on display, but no one, not those he was with or the opponents, showed any signs of activating it.

A scream pierced through the sound of battle staining the air, and Sam shifted his gaze to see someone fall to the ground, their face burning with a raging flame. He was not surprised since he had predicted this happening. It was Phineas.

Ironic, he’s a flame Elementalist but he’s dying by fire…

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

The man who had kicked Phineas’ bucket was killed a few moments later by Diva. She was like a lightning bolt, her speed completely unfathomable, which had made it hard for the man to keep track of her until a bullet was embedded within his skull.

Of course the hectic battle going on was not just for some measly loots alone; the main prizes were the Cores gotten from the monsters within the Glade.

Sam had found out from Richie, in a destroyed world, those things were their life source. It was both a fertilizer for their farms and a material for their weaponry. That was why despite not being able to activate Glades, they needed to be able to access the Cores within it.

Cores also made up the crux of the plan he had cooked up with Richie. And now… He saw the guy who had been tagged as his guardian being pushed into a secluded spot by his opponent… It was time.

Sam flayed his eyes through the battle scenery first, then as soon as he caught sight of Douglas, he jumped through the window and rolled behind a tree to keep himself hidden.

He kept on watching. A minute. Two minutes. It was then.

Douglas finally overwhelmed his opponent, grabbed her by her neck as blood swept down from her forehead to her neck. With a disgusting look in his eyes he licked his lips as if savoring a meal before digging into it, and even though the lady was knocking on death’s door it still irritated her to the point that she spat on him. There was a frown and then there was a gunshot through the heart. That battle came to a close.

Sam sprung out then.

“Hey!” he shouted through the ruckus, drawing Douglas’s attention from the dead lady to him.

“Hey?” There was anger in the head of the guard’s voice, and he further made known his wrath by pointing his rifle at Sam. “Respect’s far from ya, huh, Coma-boy?”

Sam raised his hands. “There’s a problem.”

“The only problem here is ya lack of respect,” Douglas spat with a wrung up nose. “I should kill ya and dump ya body in a ditch somewhere.”

[Side Plot]

A Player holds animosity towards you. Survive.

Tsk. The battle was almost ending now, Sam knew he had to be quick.

“Forgive my mistake,” Sam apologized. “But we have a bigger problem now. Richie… He’s fighting someone with a Core. If he kills Richie he’ll escape, and we cannot lose the Core.”

Douglas narrowed his eyes for a moment before pulling the nozzle of his gun away from Sam’s face.

This was it—this was why he had waited for Douglas to end his battle and brought up the Core. If Douglas had been engaged, he would not have answered him. And if there was nothing important to gain out of heading to Richie’s rescue, he would also not have been obliged to help. He would have sent him towards another person; at this moment, though, everyone else was occupied. Sam had made sure any alternatives were impossible.

“What’s ya Division?” Douglas asked.

Sam tightened his brows. “What?”

“Tell me. No. Show me.”

Insurance, huh?

Sam feigned hesitance for a second or two, then he dipped his hands into his shadow and created a dagger.

Douglas smiled. “Now listen here, you little shit, if you try anything funny I will know. My Perception is high enough to bypass whatever stealth the Rogue Division has given ya.”

I see… So my animosity will be kept secret by default unless the person has a high enough Perception. Great. It was really the right idea to practice that…

“Lead the way,” Douglas added, and Sam moved on to the last phase of the plan.

It was a minute’s walk before they arrived at the spot that Sam and Richie had chosen for the execution ground. It was a bungalow with no roof.

Although, something was weird. It was too silent.

Don’t tell me… Is Richie dead?

“What’s going on?”

“Huh?” Sam was snapped away from his thoughts at Douglas’s words.

The head of the guards aimed his rifle at him again. “Where the hell’s the battle, Coma-boy?”

Sam was without words. But he did not let silence linger for too long. It would make the situation tense and arouse further suspicions on Douglas’s part. He couldn’t let that be. Nothing had changed, he just had to tweak his plan to accommodate what he had not taken into consideration.

“I’ll go in and check,” Sam proposed. He then tightened his face as though he was sad. “But… I think… Richie might be dead if it’s this silent.”

Douglas nudged his back with the nozzle of the rifle. “Like I care. Get in there and confirm the situation.”

Sam sniffled and moved forward. He was almost at the doorstep of the house when a crash was heard from within it. His eyes widened as he froze in his tracks and he immediately turned towards Douglas. The head of guards joined Sam where he was. Another crash was heard then, and that prompted them both to head into the house.

It was good that Richie wasn’t dead, but that was hardly what concerned Sam the most. It was Richie’s abilities. He had tried to get Douglas here quickly after Richie’s departure, but the man’s battle and convincing had drawn out longer than he’d expected. So for Richie to have kept the battle going on for so long meant that his opponent was dancing around his palm.

Was his opponent that weak, or was Richie just that strong?

The answer to that became more bleak as Sam and Douglas arrived in the sitting room of the house. There on the moss filled carpet was the head of a middle aged man separated from his body, and standing above it was a blood covered Richie. Although, the blood wasn’t his, as there were no wounds inflicted on his body.

Sam was shook.

He had told Richie to bait one of the adventurers to this house and try to survive until Douglas arrived, but he had not been expecting this.

Now that he thought about it, the way Richie had brought the adventurer to the house seemed quite easy. Back then he had not looked like he had been struggling at all.

Does he have high Attributes like Emine or Diva? Is it his Skill? What is it? What exactly happened here?

Sam’s attention shifted to what Richie was holding. It was a palm sized smoky gemstone, spherical in nature and pulsing with an ethereal green glow. It was a Minion Monster’s Core, its description matching what he had been told. The sight of it was so breathtaking that Sam had almost forgotten his purpose of coming here. He shook his head immediately and locked eyes with Richie unobtrusively.

“Oho,” Douglas had a smile on his face. “Richie-boy painted this scene fantastically—” He cut himself off as he pointed his rifle at Richie. “What the fuck do ya think ya doing?!”

Sam knew what had happened. Douglas had received an animosity message.

“What do you mean?” Richie asked.

“Don’t fuck with me!” Douglas moved forward, subconsciously putting Sam behind him. “Get on ya knees and beg this instant, and maybe I’ll spare ya life.”

Richie’s gaze tightened. “Spare my life?” He paused for a moment. “I’ve always wondered… What ever made you think you were stronger than I am?”

This was all part of the plan, taunting.

Sam had deciphered Douglas to be someone who let his emotions take over his reasoning; once they got under his skin, he would lose his ability to rationalize, then…

But, what was going on here? The sort of aura Richie was giving off. It felt like he wasn’t bluffing.

A cold sweat ran down Sam’s back, and it seemed it did for Douglas too.

“What the hell’re ya talking about?” Douglas’s tone had become a bit more strained.

“What the hell am I talking about, huh?” Richie tightened his grip on the Core he held, almost like he wanted to shatter it, but his muscles didn’t tense up to a point for such to happen. “Get on your knees and beg, then maybe I’ll spare your life.”

“You bastard! Yer dead now, I tell ya!” Douglas’s nose flared and his neck corded as he released the hammer of his rifle; his rage was completely evident. It was now or never.

Sam dipped his hands into the smoke rising out of his shadow, fantasized about the sharpest and thinnest sword his mind could conjure up, and it manifested in his palm.

Likening how the Plexus sent an animosity message to be similar to how a lie detector worked, he had practiced and practiced all through the night on the ferry on ways to keep maximum control over his psyche. His heart rate, blood pressure, breathing rate, skin conductivity, these spiked when a person lost control of their emotions, so controlling their responses meant that his emotions wouldn’t leak out of him—at least, he hoped. And seeing how Douglas was yet to notice what was happening behind him, he seemed to have succeeded.

Sam gripped the shadow sword and was about to lunge it through Douglas’s back when a shocking scene played before his eyes.

Out of his own shadow a black hazy figure manifested and reacted far quicker than him.

Douglas was about to pull the trigger of his rifle when the hazy figure swiped its hand across his neck and a clean line appeared on it. A moment later his head was separated from the rest of his body as a fountain of blood gushed out.

Sam froze as a tremor took over his chest while he openly stared at Douglas’s body drop down like a bag of cement thrown to the floor.

His reading was wrong. No. It wasn’t something as simple as that. He was a fool.

This whole schtick to kill Douglas was just him making a fool of himself.

How could he not have noticed? The way Richie talked. The way Richie acted. The way Richie looked. Everything was laid out to him, how could he not have seen it?

Granted, if Douglas didn’t know it seemed like not everyone knew as well. But he was different. He had the Skill and he was always with this person, if everyone in the world missed it, he should not have missed it.

Now I understand why Emine’s the fifth strongest in the faction. It’s because…

He looked up at his appointed guardian who was standing across the room with the green Core glowing in his hand.

Richie’s the fourth…