Inspecting the mission boards, Nathan found himself at a crossroads. With his extensive experience fighting in the tower, he was overqualified for most of the easier missions. However, his lack of a class and low levels made it quite dangerous to take on the harder ones. As he reviewed the missions again, he reaffirmed his priorities.

I need something that’s unlikely to pose any real danger, that can be repeated, and that comes with a generous payout.

He frowned as one particular poster caught his eye. God, I hate that this is the one that fits my requirements best.

Eliminate pests in the sewer

1 Credit per slime core

5 Credits per defeated undead

Rates negotiable for other pests

Client: Hunters Guild

This was a standard quest that could be found in all but the most industrious cities on the first floor. Cleaning up the sewers was a job few wanted to take, so the credits earned were far more generous than those of comparable quests. It wasn’t unlikely to stumble upon smuggler hideouts or naturally occurring anomalies, such as dungeons, making it possible to earn some extra money on the side while down there.

Still, I don't have a single cleaning skill, and there's no way the innkeeper would let me stay if I came in reeking of sewage water.

Resigned to his fate despite his misgivings, Nathan called out, “Is there a water mage here looking to make some quick extra cash?”

Soon, an elderly man joined him at the notice board. Despite his advanced age, he was still quite muscular—definitely not the typical picture of a mage. Then again, if one wanted to survive, it was rarely wise to rely solely on magic.

“What can I do for you, friend?” the mage asked.

“Well, I’m in need of some credits myself, and it seems I’ll have to do the sewage run for the next few days,” Nathan started to explain.

“Bah, no matter what you pay, you can't drag me into that cesspit,” the mage immediately countered, already turning away.

“Calm down. No need to follow me down there. I just need your services to clean myself and my clothes once I make it back to the surface. You'll get a tenth of my earnings. How about it?”

That seemed to get the man's attention, and he carefully considered. “That I can do. How and when will we meet up, my friend?”

A smile appeared on the mage's face, though Nathan could see the greed in his gaze. I might have to keep an eye on that one.

“Tell you what, I'll stay down there six hours every day, and we’ll meet at the entrance. You clean me up, and once I hand in my bounty at the guild, you get your share.”

Still smiling, though it didn't reach his eyes, the mage held out his hand, and Nathan clasped it. “You've got yourself a deal then, sir sewer cleaner.”

“Nathan’s the name,” he answered. “I'll meet you at the entrance to the sewer in six hours then.”

“Brand's what I'm called around here. Good hunting to you.”

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Nathan spent the rest of his credits getting outfitted for his first foray into the sewers.

It hurt to see all his money gone so quickly, but he should be able to make it back in just a couple of hours.

Hunting in the forest was a lucrative business, but not for someone as weak as him. Had he slain the shadow-cat, for example, and brought it to town using a spatial ring, the payout would have been in the hundreds of credits, and there would be no need for this tedious farming.

Armed with a new spear that should hold up until he got his class at least, along with a magi-tech timepiece, a light, and a new waterproof bag, he wandered towards the sewer entrance.

As he walked, the buildings became more dilapidated, the streets dirtier, and he could even spot the occasional non-human resident. A handful of half-orcs and beastkin lived in the poorer districts, though they kept out of his way, mostly going about their business with their heads down.

One particular wolfkin caught his eye, however. The man held himself differently from the others, showing none of the signs of malnourishment and abuse. On his left wrist, a tattoo of an open hand was visible.

Nathan made sure to catch his eyes and gave him a nod, which the wolfkin reciprocated before continuing on his way.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Found my local contact with the brokers at least. That was faster than expected. Should make this whole thing a little easier.

Similar to the church, the brokers were an organization that spanned multiple floors of the tower. It was a place where climbers could get almost anything they needed, as long as they had the credits to pay.

Soon, Nathan came upon the sewer entrance, a robust stone building closed off with a heavy gate. It was flanked by two guardsmen, the first ones he had seen since leaving the wealthier part of the village.

Despite the unglamorous post, their equipment was far better than that of the average guard. Paid off by the brokers, no doubt. This is their part of town, after all.

The two men didn't react as he approached, simply holding their post. “Sewer run,” was all Nathan had to say before one of them flipped a heavy lever, and the gate slowly swung open. A gust of stale air, carrying the smell of rotten food and worse, hit him. Nathan knew from experience that it would only get worse once he descended deeper.

He took a few steps forward before he heard the heavy doors slam shut behind him. With a sigh, he produced the light he had bought, and it lit up. Throughout his years, he had become somewhat used to exploring underground spaces, from ruins of lost civilizations to simple dungeons, but being closed in like this still gave him a bad feeling.

He made his way forward towards the ladder that would lead him into the sewers proper. Holding his light, he descended until his feet once again stood on solid ground.

Only a part of the surrounding space was illuminated, but he found himself in a tunnel that was only slightly higher than himself. The walkway he stood on was about a meter in width, and next to it flowed a subterranean stream that carried all the filth the city above flushed downwards. He could hear sounds further in the distance, though the constant echo and unending murmur of the river gave the whole place an ethereal atmosphere.

The smell, however, was revolting. Almost gagging, he took a moment to acclimatize to it before finally setting out and following the direction the river flowed. Soon, he came upon a fork and took the right path without even thinking.

Nathan had a great sense of direction, but it was still all too easy to get lost in the unending labyrinth that was the sewer. By always turning in the same direction, he ensured he could find his way back.

He hadn't walked far when he heard a sloshing sound. Slime, he concluded.

Slimes were both one of the most annoying pests and one of the most valuable beings in the tower. Despite looking like gelatinous balls of varying mass, the only substantial part of the slime was its core. The core projected a mana field that kept whatever fluid it was made of close and erected a mana barrier to keep itself safe.

Once this core was destroyed, the slime would instantly lose all hold on its body. Alternatively, perforating the mana barrier would cause the fluid to spill out until nothing but the core was left, which would eventually crack under the strain.

The valuable part, however, was that slimes could take in any form of fluid and saturate it with pure mana over the course of their life, making them immensely helpful for alchemists and ritualists.

Everyone wanted a slime made of ambrosia; nobody wanted one made of manure, though.

Trade in live slime cores was extremely profitable. Sadly, nobody had discovered exactly under what circumstances slimes were created, and draining away their already integrated fluid was quite likely to kill the creatures.

Nathan held his spear in front of him, advancing until he could see the slime. This one looked like a ball made of brown sludge, exactly the kind of thing the village would hate to make its way upwards to the residential areas.

Keeping his distance, Nathan poked a hole in its membrane, and sludge started flowing out. With surprising speed, the slime contracted and sprang toward him, but Nathan easily dodged before poking another hole, making sure not to damage its core, lest it explode and shower him with its contents.

In this manner, he kept on damaging it for about a minute before the slime, now looking like a balloon that had lost its contents, gave off a cracking sound and fell to the floor.

Grimacing, Nathan reached into the sludge and pulled out a crystal ball with cracks all over its surface before depositing it in his bag. “That's one credit, at least,” he counted.

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Picking up yet another slime core, Nathan’s stomach let out a growl. He was both hungry and thirsty, though he could never bring himself to eat down here. Putting his last trophy in his bag, he checked his timepiece. “A bit over thirty cores. I should make my way back. Only one hour left until the meeting with the mage.”

Just as he started walking, a message suddenly appeared before him

Congratulations, Nathan Andrews

You have levelled up

He raised his eyebrows. “I know I’m low level, but from slimes? Well, I'll take what I can get. Invest the stat point into perception.”

Now a little happier with the whole escapade, Nathan retraced his steps. Just as he rounded a corner, he came face-to-face with what could only be described as a walking corpse.

It stood completely still in a way only the dead could, so he had been unable to detect it by any sound it made.

Without hesitation, Nathan retreated back around the corner, though it was already too late.

The undead let out a drawn-out moan and advanced towards him with a speed that belied its rotten appearance.

Finding corpses in the sewers was not entirely uncommon, but for an actual undead to rise was truly bad luck. These things felt no pain, wouldn’t tire, and could hit hard and fast. Any wound inflicted by them would quickly get infected, and dying days after beating one of them was something that happened all too often.

From what Nathan could tell, this corpse had been a man in his forties, used to hard labour, and built like it.

“Fuck,” he spat out. “This will be a problem.”

Already, there was not much distance between him and his assailant. He dropped his light while gripping his spear in both hands.

“Let’s do this, then.”