I didn't do much for the rest of the day. I stopped by my gambling operation, happy to note that it was still making a steady amount of money with no problems. It was good to see my little business wasn't targeted.

Even my employees avoided the growing mess, showing my instincts to pick right employees still worked nicely..

The rest of the gang wasn't as lucky. Technically, from a numerical sense, the losses weren't too great, barely a hundred members left the gang, but considering they were either gone through their second promotion, or were about to go through it, it meant a significant drop in the fighting capabilities.

Worse, I knew it was just the tip of the iceberg. The guild residence only allowed a certain amount of members to live in the inner city, and while I didn't know the exact number, it would certainly not be in the thousands. It might not even reach a hundred, and even if it did, it certainly wouldn't reach two hundred.

Meaning, most of them would be living in the outer city … under the control of Night Blades, who would be free to pick the most useful ones as hires and harass the rest.

Technically, if I worked myself to the bone for the next week or two, I might prevent that fate … but I abandoned that path before I even started. My objectives had changed a bit since I found myself running around adrift.

I was aware that sooner or later, I would be discovered.

And then, I would need the strength to fight.

Creating Charisma-connection with others to gain Experience was useful .. but then, I didn't need them to actually be a part of my organization to do so. I could easily use Night Blades' fighters for that benefit as well.

And, other than that, having a large gang backing me didn't offer me the strength to fight back against the threats that awaited me, not against the actual army. Collecting a mob was useless. It was a mistake many made back on Earth as well, thinking that being the biggest gang gave them the strength to fight … only for their great organization to collapse at the first credible threat.

… or, in this case, the dangling of the first delicious carrot.

I didn't even bother visiting Jertann. There was a reason I didn't want to bother building the gang under myself, and if he wasn't capable enough to handle the impact of his current problem, especially with Zolast and I available to advise him if he visited, there was no point helping him in the first place.

Instead, I focused on my own, smaller operation, which, unlike Jertann's army, was still intact. Twenty-one employees, including Karak, just enough to handle a small gambling pit.

I gestured for Karak to approach for a private talk. "You have done a good job here," I said. He just nodded, silent as usual. "Now, I need you to find me some new prospective recruits," I said. He nodded again. "I need you to find me at least ten … no, twenty people with blacksmith class, and maybe a few woodworkers," I told him.

"That's challenging," he answered.

"What if I tell you I don't care about their current level at all. It's alright even if they are below level ten. And, they can be old or sick as well. As long as they are not teenagers, it's alright," I said. I didn't want to herd a bunch of teenagers. "Try to find me as many candidates as you can manage, but make sure to tell them I'll only employ ten of them."

Karak nodded and left, quick to start. I trusted his cautious attitude and his sharp perception to find me enough candidates, and I would further interrogate them to make sure nothing was going wrong.

I was serious about creating a weapon store — two stores, even, if Zolast could get me a building in the outer town as well — and the sooner I started recruiting blacksmiths, the better. I still needed to help them level up.

"The System is surely convenient," I murmured, my mind already on the next stage.

With my little business ventures going flawlessly, I decided to make my presence known once more. As I walked out of the camp, I could hear people whispering, my performance of taking down three people with skill creating a lot of gossips.

Though, interestingly, not all discussion was positive. "… I told you so, he's not that strong. I told you your theory was nonsense," whispered a man as I passed near them, unaware I could hear their discussion.

"He still took three people with swordsmanship skill down without taking a wound. Not exactly a weakling," his friend argue, but his voice lacked conviction.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Only after fighting for ages. He clearly has a strong defensive skills, but nothing else. I told you, there's no need to fear him just because he took down a few thugs. He's clearly at his limit. Once we could go to the dungeon and level up quickly, the situation will change."

I barely held back a chuckle as I listened to their discussion, realizing the reason they didn't target my operation was less about respect, and more about expediency.

Apparently, my latest performance solved their question and gave them a misleading impression about my limits. Combined with my 'cowardly' decision to take the role of the Quartermaster, the days that people tiptoed around me were over.

Not a bad situation, especially since, for the foreseeable future, I would be busy gathering mana stones to trigger my promotion. Clearly, I would need a great amount to succeed. Technically, even that wasn't a certainty, and I could gather a roomful, only to still fail.

But I wasn't too worried about that possibility. Mana stones were used as a currency as well, so the cost of failure was being rich — which could open certain doors, allowing me to dig into the hidden secrets.

With that, I arrived at the front line, where Jertann was pushing themselves to the limit, a gloomy expression on his face. Despite my initial decision, I decided to give him a bi of helpt. "Go and deal with your organization rather than escaping your problems, boy," I called, alerting him to my presence.

"Hi, Euon," he waved, trying to look lively. "I'm just making sure I'm doing my job," he said. I walked toward him, and dismissed the rest.

"No, you're avoiding your job, this lot here was strong enough to handle the beasts without your help, but still you're pushing yourself to the limit," I said, calling him off for his nonsense.

He paused for a moment, his expression shifting. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I was killing beasts and leading men before you were born, boy. Of course, I'm sure," I answered, shamelessly lying. Only the latter part of my statement was true. "Now, go have a talk with Zolast, and focus on how you're going to handle all those people once we arrive at the breach and we won't be responsible for the defense."

Jertann nodded, but before he could say anything, one of the others, a young man, spoke. "Hey, old man, who said you can just order us around. We trust our leader, but it doesn't mean we're going to listen to a parasite," he called.

Even as he said that, he was throwing glances at some of the others. First, I thought of another attempt against me, as I had triggered earlier.

"Yes, old man. We don't have to listen to you. You're just a quartermaster. Barely more than a servant," said another, supporting his friend. "And how dare you come here and act like this. We had been fighting all night while you were sleeping."

I sighed despondently as the realization hit. They were not traitors … but a bunch of overeager ants, hoping to leverage my sudden drop in reputation to their aim. "Go away, then," I sighed, dismissed them carelessly. "I don't need a bunch of idiots blocking me while trying to help."

Jertann opened his mouth, but I silenced him with a glare. The others weren't as smart, and started to walk toward me. "Who are you, calling us useless —" he started. The blunt side of my halberd, burying into his diaphragm, was enough to silence him.

The others looked shocked, but before they could even react, I repeated the same attack several times, and they ended up on their asses. "Try not to listen to gossip too much," I warned them, then, looked at Jertann. "Please drag those idiots away, and tell the other two groups to stay a bit distant."

"As you wish, old man," Jertann chuckled, amused by my display, while the others looked at me in shock. I had a feeling that they already developed some discussions about me.

All well. I wanted to maintain a low profile, but like everything, that only worked in moderation. I wanted to keep a low profile to avoid the enemy from messing with me, which would be pointless if every arrogant young man on our side tried to target me to elevate themselves.

I started fighting, cutting the larger beasts with even more ease than I had displayed earlier, though still trying to look weak enough to convince my enemies that I was posturing. Killing beasts gave me some experience…

But it was nothing compared to the flood of notifications that appeared I stretched my Charisma web all along the forward defensive line. Luckily, at this point, I was experienced in pushing that flood into a corner, barely paying attention.

Every hour gave me around five hundred thousand points of Experience. And the best thing, my little noble lord failed to notice what had been going on.

Half an hour into our adventure, Karak arrived, with thirty people following him. "The crafters," he said as he pointed at them.

"Very good," I said as I turned my attention to them, stretching my Charisma over them, just enough to extend a soft pressure, one that would make them hesitate while going unnoticed. "Now, tell me, who among you are willing to work for me, and who are just here because they think my enemies will offer you a bunch of skills to leave me."

Every single of the prospective candidates froze, shocked by the absurdity of the question, their gazes bouncing as they tried to understand whether I was joking or actually expected an answer. It took a while for them to give their answers, hesitant and trembling.

It was lucky that I wasn't paying attention to their words in the first place. While they were shuffling in discomfort, I was adding a slight pressure with my latest and most favorite Charisma trick, pushing their emotions out of alignment. It made their reaction to the latter part of my words more acute.

Perception allowed me to pick who could be trusted and who could not. "You bunch," I said as I pointed to several of them, which, unfortunately, were the strongest and the most competent-looking ones of the bunch.

"You can't be serious —" one of them started, but I kicked a stone. It flew perfectly, and despite his attempts to dodge, landed right at the center of his chest, leaving him coughing.

"I said, leave," I ordered, not bothering to shout. He looked ready to argue, but a twirl of my halberd was enough to dissuade them. They started trudging back, a few of them looking at me, their grudge clear.

I ignored them, and turned toward my newest prospective employees.