I didn't do much for a while as I walked around the camp. I just sauntered while taking deep breaths, trying to control that sudden flare of anger.

I didn't question the presence of the overwhelming flood of anger. With all that was going on, it was a natural response, and even I had limits when it came to compartmentalizing my emotions. Sometimes, no experience helped. One just needed to let the shock run its course.

If I was still back on Earth, I would have retreated to my cabin in the woods, enjoying some nice cigars and a bottle of the finest bourbon, and looking at the stars. A day or two, alone, and I would have calmed down.

Pity, it was not a luxury I could afford at this point. Not just the cigar and scotch, but staying alone for a day or two. Not in a world filled with monsters… I decided to take the next best thing, and decided to have a walk around the camp…

I noticed the mood of the people, some were calm, some panicked, some angry; yet everyone was busy with something, gathering the spilled goods, trying to repair the broken carts, or even supplying some of the stations that were operating constantly like the blacksmiths repairing weapons, and woodworkers desperately working to create new arrows…

Such a sight should have been calming. Watching the chaos of the people was almost as meditative as watching the sky on a cloudless night away from the city… Unfortunately, it didn't help as much as I had hoped.

The changes were too obvious to aignore. Many more people were wearing one of those three bands, and the number of patrols increased even further, getting denser the closer to the center of the camp.

A dangerous idea, and hastening the inevitable conflict between the three groups.

After hiding my red armband, I drifted toward the outer circle, which was exclusively filled with non-aligned groups. They were even tenser than the groups in the inner circles, trying to deal with the beasts that were attacking from other directions despite the patrols.

The number of the beast attacks was still manageable, and their focus was on protecting their carts rather than saving lives, but the worry etched into their faces told that they were aware of what would happen as the beasts got stronger…

Everything I could see about this camp told me that a bad end was inevitable for the whole camp. The three budding gangs acted as if that wasn't a possibility … which, unfortunately, didn't surprise me even a little.

It wasn't the first time I watched a para-military group acting with unearned confidence just because they were stronger than the civilians that surrounded them — and it never ended well, the results ranging. Between bad and truly catastrophic.

I wanted nothing more than to mix into the crowd and disappear as a nameless figure and believe everything would be alright as I did so, convincing myself that I wouldn't make a difference one way or another.

Unfortunately, I knew that it was not true. I could make a difference, and that confidence had nothing to do with the advantage of my class represented. After all, I had done something similar — even more than once, some due to necessity, some due to ambition of youth — in my checkered past, and I could replicate it.

My class was just a bonus.

I needed to make a decision. And, it was an obvious one — I was too old to lie to myself in such an obvious way — but still, I was looking for an excuse to delay that.

An excuse that I was able to find soon enough in the form of a familiar face. Zolast, the competent cook, with his cart right at the outer border, defended his cart against three beasts. Interestingly he didn't have anyone else to protect him, which hadn't been the case earlier. "Any help?" I asked as I approached, taking down a beast with a slash.

"Appreciate the help, old man," he said as he looked at me, relaxed. "I could handle it, of course…" he said as he looked at the small cart, one that he was pulling himself — something that I was seeing around the camp more and more as their beasts of burden occasionally fell against the beasts, and they had no chance to replenish them.

He was capable enough to handle the beasts easily … too easily even, but that didn't solve his problem. "But you can't cook while defending," I completed with a shrug.

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"Exactly," he said.

"How about I help, and you give me a hearty meal as payment," I offered. I wasn't after the free food — I still had some stolen silver — but I wanted the excuse to chat a bit. And, unless I started going around making new friends, my options were rather limited.

He studied me a little, I guess trying to decide just how much of an attitude he should display before accepting the offer. I decided to make it easier. I slashed my dagger, taking down one of the critters with a slash.

"Sure," he said with a shrug, rubbing his pointed chin.

I stood next to the cart and killed the beasts that burst through the outer layer. They often broke, almost once every few minutes, and sometimes in groups. However, that was nothing compared to the number I had to deal with while holding the rear of the defensive line, allowing me to easily handle them even as I limited myself to the level of ability I had displayed earlier.

Between killing beasts, I took note of the changes in the caravan, to be used once I made that inevitable decision. Zolast didn't speak much when he split his attention between pulling his cart, harvesting the killed beasts, and cooking.

"Wow, you're quite spry for an old man," Zolast commented as I took three beasts easily, distracting me from that topic. "The food is ready, by the way," he said as he raised a plate, this time filled with some kind of stir-fry rather than a stew.

"The perks of a misspent youth," I answered with a shrug even as I grabbed the plate and took a bite. The bitter taste hit my mouth, but unlike the previous time, where the bitter taste was unpleasant, it had a nice burn, like one of the heavier meals. "Wow, that's much better than that horrible stew yesterday."

"That was not proper food but a slop, just something to replenish Health. I cooked one of my specials for you," he said before pausing for a moment. "Well, as well as I can cook under the circumstances, on a charcoal cooker on top of a moving cart, with most of my proper spices missing."

I just nodded, enjoying the taste of the food, the dancing of the warmth that I had long identified as Health, and the bitter taste of the other harmful energies mixing together.

[+1 Health]

The notification came quickly, which didn't surprise me much, as I could feel the denseness of energy packed in the food, and I expected it to replenish even more than the previous meal.

A nice bonus while walking around, trying to clean my mind. I enjoyed my food in silence. While it wasn't as good as a top-shelf bourbon — especially one of the rare ones that I managed to dig through auctions — as a distraction, it was still decent. I was interrupted by the monsters constantly, but, at this point, they were starting to become a part of the background.

I decided not to focus on that as I enjoyed my food, not planning to think about what to do until I finished my food.

[+1 Health]

Unfortunately, the world decided to disagree with that assumption, and I noticed five people, separate from the larger group, walk toward the cart, wearing black bands on their arms, their walk far too tense to be ordinary.

"Keep out of the view," Zolast said as he pointed to his cart. I nodded as I took that. I knew that it wouldn't help. I recognized that walk, and they were tense enough to expect to fight. Perception just allowed me to notice other details I might have missed from such a distance, such as the way their fingers tightened around their weapon.

I even recognized one of them. It was one of the three that stepped forward to fight against me — though not the unlucky one that ended up with a broken arm.

"Hello, Zolast," one of the others said. "Did you have a chance to think about our offer?"

"I did, boys. It's a kind offer, but I have to say my answer is still the same. I won't work for free. The monster attacks are nothing I can't handle."

"Are you sure? The monster attacks are already increasing. It won't be long until reach a point you can't handle it. It would be a pity … especially if you continue to stay on the perimeter," he said. I frowned as I listened, his last words implying that they were the ones that pushed Zolast to the outer ring.

This meant that they were less concerned about optimizing the security of the camp and more interested in growing their small group. It was annoying, because it wasn't my responsibility to maintain the group's security, I didn't want it to collapse as well.

Trying to join other groups would just invite more scrutiny, which was not something I wished to deal with until I had a better understanding of how this new world worked.

"Don't worry about my safety, young man. If the worst comes to the worst, I'll offer a few people free meals to join as a bodyguard. As the best cook in this little gathering, I can easily manage."

Their growl told me that they had no intention to allow him that. The distinct sound of a blade being drawn reached my ear. "Are you sure that would be better than trying to handle yourself alone? And your free meal plan didn't work as well for your old bodyguards, did it? I heard that they are all Greens now," another said. This time, a familiar voice. My earlier opponent. "Because who knows what would happen without others to help? Think about it. All you need is to cook for us, and you don't need to worry about boring security concerns … like someone breaking your cart."

"For free, right," Zolast answered. "Thanks, I would much prefer to reject that … generous offer," he added with distaste, the pause leaving no doubt about his intense feelings.

I expected them to walk away. After all, no gang would be idiotic enough to recruit him forcibly. It wouldn't be too much of a problem if they recruited a random goon, but a cook…

Only an idiot would eat from the hands of an angry cook or a disgruntled waiter unless they enjoyed the taste of spit — and, considering the intensity of Zolast's response, possibly poison.

Yet, it didn't take long for me to be surprised. "Oh, who said you have a choice?" said their leader.

Idiots, indeed.