Erik regretted drinking so much the night before. Granted, he was in his own room, in the new house they had built, but it still didn't help with the pounding in his head.

"Fucking hell..." Erik muttered, his eyes squinting as he woke up to the piercing light of the afternoon sun. He sat up, his head pounding like a drum. The events of the previous night came flooding back to him in a rush: the meeting with Grom, the drunken revelry, and the conversation with Talia. He had hoped that the morning would bring clarity, but the hangover was having none of it.

As if by divine coincidence, Erik saw a fist flying towards his head. A moment later, pain exploded across his cheek, and his vision swam as he roared. Quickly as it came, the agony was replaced by sudden relief, and his hangover subsided considerably.

"Did that help?" Myrese asked with a smug smile, her hand still drawn back from delivering the well-aimed punch.

"Yes... but please warn me next time," Erik groaned, rubbing his cheek. "The hell are you doing in my room, anyway?"

The former elf assassin leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. "Talia sent me. She thought you might need a... motivator to get going."

Erik blinked away the stars in his eyes as he realized it was late in the afternoon. "Oh fuck."

"Yes, you've slept in," Myrese said with a grin. "But don't worry, I've got your back."

"I thought you were supposed to be at the medical center by now," Erik grimaced as he trudged over to his walk-in closet to get dressed. "Shouldn't you be learning how to do all that medical shit?"

Myrese's grin grew wider. "I was, but I figured you'd need someone to take care of your hangover. Besides, Castellanos said I could take a half-day off."

Erik grunted as he came out of his closet, wearing joggers and a light t-shirt. "So? Where's Talia, then?"

Myrese shrugged. "She swung by to check on the main burger shack before heading to the water park to meet up with Ricteronu. I think she's trying to copy your daily tasks."

For a moment, Erik stared at Myrese, dumbfounded. "She's... taking initiative? But, I never showed her what to do. Rather, she never learned whenever she came along."

"Well, she's learning fast," Myrese said, nonchalantly. "But, she did mention something about wanting to surprise you."

A shiver ran down Erik's spine. No surprises Talia had prepared was ever good. It seemed Myrese shared the same unease, her smile faltering.

"Hopefully it's nothing too... bad," Erik prayed, grabbing his journal and pen. "Come on, I guess you can tag along while I tie up some loose ends."

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"If you don't mind me asking, why are you so intent on wealth?" Myrese asked as they walked through the village streets.

"In my world, I wasn't completely broke, but I was barely living paycheck to paycheck. And let me tell you, it's not a good feeling," Erik said, his eyes scanning the bustling streets of the village. "Things called universities allow you to graduate with a certification, which, in theory, is supposed to help you get a career to earn more money. The only thing is, with how many people are vying for that same job, you're not always guaranteed the career of your dreams."

Myrese listened intently, her curiosity piqued. "So, your wealth is a form of security?"

"Sure, we can label it like that," Erik replied. He didn't want to admit just yet that it was also a way for him to prove that graduating with an industrial engineering degree hadn't been a waste of his time.

They made their first stop at Geritara's clothes shop, where Erik stood in shock.

The first time he'd been here, it was a simple, small store with a few bolts of fabric and some basic sewing supplies. Now, it had expanded into a full-fledged boutique with clothes displayed on mannequins and a variety of fabrics from all over the kingdom. Hell, there were a few village women in front, modeling the clothes Geritara had made.

Heading inside, Erik noticed the addition of employees, but Geritara himself was nowhere to be seen.

"Holy shit, am I looking at the start of a fashion empire?" Erik murmured to himself. He had promised Geritara that, but he didn't expect it to take off so quickly.

Myrese followed him, her eyes equally wide with amazement. "It seems your influence is spreading, Erik. The seeds you've planted have begun to sprout."

"Yeah, I guess so," Erik said, his hangover momentarily forgotten as he took in the transformation of the small shop.

"If it isn't my favorite person and his former would-be killer!" Geritara rushed up to them excitedly. "Oh, it's been ages since you visited my shop! You like what I did with it?"

"Y-yeah, Geri. You really... expanded," Erik couldn't hide his admiration, seeing the sewing machines and other devices he had conjured for the shopkeeper stationed around the room. "You think you'll need a new building soon?"

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"Hmm," Geritara tapped his chin thoughtfully, shifting his weight to one side. "A new building, you say? Perhaps. But for now, let's focus on what you need." He took Erik's shoulders and steered him towards the back of the shop. "Come, I have something special for you."

"Wait, I didn't come here for clothes–"

"Nonsense," Geritara waved him off. "You can't go around looking like you just rolled out of bed, especially not when you're going to be the face of the business world here."

Erik glanced back at Myrese for help, but the elf simply shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. He knew when he was outmatched. With a sigh, he allowed Geritara to lead him to the back of the shop, where racks of exquisite fabrics and intricate designs filled the space.

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Both Geritara and Myrese were silent as they stared at Erik, who was checking out his new outfit in front of the mirrors.

Erik was never one for business attire, feeling more comfortable in clothing suited for construction and hands-on work, but the sleek black suit with silver stitching that hugged his body made him feel... powerful. The shirt was a crisp white, and the tie, a striped pattern, added a touch of flair that even he had to admit looked good on him.

"Okay, you really did a great job with this Geri-" Erik paused as he noticed the two staring at him. "What?"

Myrese averted her eyes as Geritara smiled shyly.

"You look really good in that suit, Erik," Geritara said, a blush creeping over his face. "I take pride in my work, but I didn't think it would work so well on you."

Erik flashed a grin at the designer. "Thanks, Geri."

"It's nothing," Geritara said, blushing more intensely. "Now, let's get you out of here before I start questioning my life choices."

The shopkeeper ushered the both of them out after promising to consider Erik's offer for expansion. As the pair stepped back out onto the village streets, Erik turned to Myrese.

"Well? What do you think?"

Myrese tilted her head, looking him over from head to toe. "It's... definitely different," she said, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Now you look more like the targets I used to be assigned to kill."

Erik scoffed. "Very funny. You know, I'd never wear something like this if it weren't for the business." He started walking towards the village's forge.

"Where are we going?" Myrese asked, her curiosity piqued.

"To see Grom and Kin. We got a little... sidetracked talking about business last night."

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Once again, Erik had another moment of regret for choosing not to change back into his casual clothes as he stepped inside, feeling the intense heat of the forge. He spotted Grom over at an anvil, the dwarf sporting dark sunglasses and earmuffs as he slowly, almost reluctantly, pounded on a piece of metal. Nearby, Kinnesthe was also wearing similar gear, wincing at each of Grom's hammer strikes.

"What's the deal, Grom?" Erik called out over the din of hammering and sizzling metal. "Why the get-up?"

It appeared as though the earmuffs were working as the dwarf continued to hammer, oblivious to Erik's and Myrese's presence.

"Grom!" Erik's voice grew louder, echoing through the forge. He walked up to the dwarf, waving a hand at him. "Yo!"

"Oh, Erik," Kinnesthe called out, spotting him over Grom's shoulder. "Welcome back. It seems your little friend here is... experiencing the aftermath of the ale last night. As am I..."

"Nonsense. Dwarves are the best when it comes to two things: crafting and drinking," Grom said, halting his hammering. He took off his earmuffs, but kept his sunglasses on.

Myrese stepped up, cracking her knuckles. "Would you two like me to help with your hangovers? I helped Erik with his."

"You've got a remedy for this?" Kinnesthe looked hopeful. Erik wisely held his tongue. Myrese's unique way of healing would be revealed to the village soon, anyway.

"Sure. I just need you two to stand still."

Myrese's voice was filled with a mix of amusement and professionalism as she approached the two hungover men. For a moment, she didn't move, quietly gazing at the pair. Then, with inhuman speed and grace, Myrese delivered a two-piece right hook that Erik believed would make even a professional boxer impressed to both their jaws.

Grom and Kinnesthe's heads snapped back as they were hit by the sudden force, roaring in pain. For a brief second, Erik thought she had gone too far, but their expressions of pain quickly turned into looks of relief. He still wasn't sure what to make of her situation of healing through acts of violence and attempted murder, but if it made her cosmically unable to harm anything, then he'd roll with it.

"Thank you, Myrese," Grom said, his voice a bit shakier than usual. "I think I can see straight again."

Kinnesthe rubbed his jaw, looking slightly stunned but definitely more alert. "What the... that actually worked. I can't believe it."

Erik gingerly touched his own cheek, sympathizing with their pain. "Imagine how I felt the first time she tried it on me."

Grom chuckled weakly. "So, what can we do for you today, Erik? I'm assuming you want to continue our conversation from last night before we... got a bit drunk."

Myrese quietly watched, amazing and a bit lost as Erik spoke with the dwarf and the blacksmith. They quickly hashed out an outline of their plans, with Grom approaching his kingdom with Erik's blueprints for rune generators as the first step and Kinnesthe finding a good location for their production factory.

"You know, Erik," Kinnesthe said, wiping the last of the soot from his face with a damp cloth, "I've never seen anyone from your world with such a knack for strategy and innovation."

"Yeah? Is that surprising?" Erik flashed a grin, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.

"Indeed. Most Travelers from your world would be focused on growing stronger and taking out the Demon King. They'd already be at one of the three kingdoms by now, working to become a 5th Circle rank or higher," Kinnesthe replied, "And for good reason, since those Travelers from your world are ridiculously powerful. Well, you have your strengths too, Erik."

"Ah." Erik felt his confidence shriveling up. It wasn't his fault that he didn't compare to the other Travelers that came from his world. Sure, he might not be the strongest mage or warrior. He definitely didn't have any knack for combat, survival, growth, or even healing. Actually, the more Erik thought about it, the more he realized that maybe he was the black sheep of the bunch.

"Who cares if you're the weakest Traveler in history?" Grom interjected, seemingly trying to comfort Erik yet it only made him feel worse. "You'll be the richest! And you can even be as great a craftsman as a dwarf!"

Erik suddenly seemed interested in the iron-hot metal on the anvil, unable to meet any of their eyes. Myrese couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for the man she was hired to kill just a few days ago.

"Erik, it's okay," she reassured him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're more than just your strength or lack thereof. Your ideas are what make you unique."

"Whatever," Erik scowled, twirling his pen through his fingers. For some reason, he felt the urge to curse Osiris for sending him here.