Three days passed in a flash.

Ilven slept peacefully for the first two days only waking up to eat and relieve himself. He willingly lowered his defenses to enjoy some long-lost rest. This proved to be the correct choice as he woke up feeling well rested and as energetic as a wild bull.

On the third day he slept for half the day to catch up on some more of his sleep debt. Then he woke up to find a few friends, one he found in William’s Delight for a good drink, the other was gambling in someone’s backyard and they exchanged pleasantries.

Both friends were surprised at his visit but were quite happy in the end.

Now it was the afternoon of the fourth day.

Ilven held up the weird eye shaped gem he found in the beast’s stomach.

The inside was streaked with silver lines, at times it seemed to contain a swirling pool of luminescent liquid, at other times it was like a thousand tiny mirrors magnifying light back into his eyes.

It was quite strange, even when touching it felt slightly alive and not like a dead thing at all, though Old Wugou said he was mistaken, he couldn’t help but feel that his intuition was correct.

“What exactly is it?” He couldn’t help but wonder.

Apart from the weird appearance and the sudden vision he had when first coming into contact with it, the gem was quiet afterwards. He even took it out to show Old Wugou who also had no idea what it was.

It was truly a strange object.

Perhaps he could discover its use when he made it to Black Rock Citadel.

“Wi!” A small figure tumbled about him a few steps away, but Ilven ignored her.

He refocused his attention to the table filled with various herbs, plants, beast materials and even soft rocks. Most were black or white stemming from the lack of sunlight within Greenstone Forest but there were also a few green, purple and red plant specimen.

Ilven crushed a few herbs mixing them with different liquids from plants and beasts concocting a few special items Old Wugou taught him.

They were simple but quite effective in critical situations. Very precious knowledge, if it was to be sold them it could be worth quite a fortune but every scavenger typically kept such things to themselves.

For one, the more common some things were the less valuable, two, knowing other’s means was gateway to defeating or neutralizing them and third, once the material’s value was discovered then acquisition of these materials would be more difficult.

As he grounded up some common herbs, he heard some slow steps approaching, the sound of a wood clanking on the ground.

Old Wugou let out a breath looking at Ilven speechlessly, “You killed Drunken Williams the moment you came back but after waking up you… not only did you kill Fesco but also that Horden kid, aren’t you a bit too active brat!”

“Hm?” Ilven looked up, “How’d you know about the third one? I didn’t leave any obvious traces. You… looked in my diary?”

Ilven’s pupils narrowed dangerously. Being familiar with himself the old man could guess the first two but definitely not the third.

“Pah!” Old Wugou spat nervously looking away, “Diary? Do you even know what that means? Your hitlist doesn’t qualify as a diary. You leave it out in the open with its cover stained with blood, who wouldn’t look at it.”

Ilven glared at the old man who was avoiding his gaze, “Who cares?”

Ilven had the chance to take back his lost spoils after he instilled fear in the young gatekeeper James Horden, the reason he did not do so was to buy time before the kid could cause trouble for himself by his own initiative.

Those wealthy kinds loved to parade themselves as nobles, especially with no real nobles within Grey Tulip so it was a foregone conclusion that the kid would seek revenge against one who he saw as a peon humiliating him.

“The Horden kid isn’t an issue, he’s one of twelve and was incompetent, a few of his siblings died here and there from trying to ingest gene potions, fighting, exile and accidents but there are still five adult children and three young ones so that vicious old farmer shouldn’t investigate too deeply.”

“I’m warning you though kid, Sir Peters is off limits. He’s the son of the previous chief and son in law of the current one, that’s strong ties to two families don’t push your luck.” The elder sternly warned.

While he did teach Ilven to pull out all weeds by the roots and leave no calamities for himself. To his dismay, Ilven had a very loose requirement for what counted as an enemy.

For instance, in the past Old Wugou sabotaged his enemies or used his team as deterrent but this kid was simply a killing fiend. In his eyes resolving troubles only meant death.

The Holden kid was said to be found punctured and bleeding onto the white sheets under Madam Lily’s belly but the carved out heart was clearly this kid’s signature, whenever he personally did the deed himself he either pierced the brain or took out the heart like a deranged killer bird with a picky palate.

This brat was one of the culprits raising the murder rate within the shelter!

The militia was working overtime thanks to him.

“I’m not an idiot; he’ll have to wait for the perfect moment.” Ilven replied continuing to prepare his powders and concoctions.

“You…!” Old Wugou was helpless in trying to persuade Ilven anymore, he has repeatedly told him that some grudges can be written off and Sir Peters likely has forgotten about the random scavenger he kicked out the way and spit on once.

Sigh, Grey Tulip was simply filled with too many dog sons and daughters, you couldn’t escape being licked or stepping on shit no matter how hard you tried.

Thankfully, there were a few good people to be found within the shelter as well.

Some fine women too.

Hehe, widow Kelsie has a niece with a pair of nice breasts doesn’t she? But I can’t get a partner before the kid, what kind of example would that be. No, I must persuade him to get married as soon as possible.

With a lecherous grin the one-legged pervert was about to suggest the 21st marriage candidate but at that moment there was a knock on the door.

“Who in Roland’s name is that?” The old man went to get the door.

There three burly men with fierce expressions shot him a grin with one of them almost turned the other direction as if to show off the red dog emblem on his back.

“Haha, Old man it’s that time of the month again. Time to pay up.” The leading man with a scar below his mouth said with a smile.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“Huh? Tonight’s the Crimson Night, shouldn’t collection be postponed until afterwards.” Old Wugou asked in confusion.

“We decide whenever we collect you trifling antique.” One of them snorted.

“Fucking Roland be damned.” The old man went to fetch the protection fee with a light curse.

The Red Dog gang were local tyrants who bullied and extorted the populace, both refugees and residents suffered in their hands. Every kind of evil you could imagine was committed by these aptly named dogs.

Their background was mysterious. Old Wugou had been around long enough to know that that this mysteriousness meant very muddy waters, the gang was likely the black glove of all three families in partnership with the Seven Sons.

The profits they took in were too great for just one force to swallow, as such offending them was not advisable.

“Mhm. Smells good. What you cooking old man? we’re kind of hungry too.” The three men chuckled as the invited themselves in before Old Wugou could come back.

“Nothing for you dog cunt fuckers, get out my house.” The old man quickly fanned them out waving his crutch with anger. These bloodhounds were getting more audacious by the day.

“Now don’t be like that old fellow, as an elder you should take care of us young folk shouldn’t you, like you took in that brat years ago.” One of them maliciously snickered.

“You’re not welcome inside, get out.” A cold voice uttered with sharpness.

It was Ilven who had come from the backyard.

“Hah. If it isn’t the famous cockroach wolf. No disrespect. We’re just hungry is all.” The leader waved down one of the others who looked ready for a fight.

“Take it and go.” Old Wugou tossed five coppers to him and asked them to leave promptly.

Usually, they would leave at this moment but this time they didn’t move.

Old Wugou realized something was wrong.

“Ah, our leader is taking in a fifth mistress, so there is an added expense. Oh, I also forgot to mention that starting today the fee will be raised to ten coppers, with the added fee, its twenty coppers.”

The air suddenly grew tense.

It should be noted that five coppers were enough for a family of four to survive a month, even two in the slums. Things were better in the main shelter but not so good that five coppers were chump change, it was already a large sum.

Ilven immediately grabbed his secondary gun from his waist and pointed it at the three men who instantly jumped back on guard.

“Wait Ilven!” Old Wugou quickly blocked him using his body, “Not now, not here, we can’t.”

He turned to the three men who each looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, “What’s the meaning of this? I haven’t heard anything about that, and I go out everyday?”

Old Wugou suspected it was this trio that was greedy, and the so called raise was lie.

He had been out frequently the past three days and hadn’t heard a hint of anything like this.

“This is close to the chest, you’re just a old washed up has-been, you wouldn’t get the news so fast.” The leader grinned and clicked his tongue but his tense posture betrayed his true feelings.

For a moment the house was silent.

“Fine.” Old Wugou said with gritted teeth.

Ilven’s hand was still gripping his gun, he looked as if he would shoot the very next second. The scent and feel of the new weapon tempted him to try it out on some live targets, the temptation grew stronger looking at their unpleasant faces.

“Fuck, you should know your place wolf. You’re just a lone busybody with no one behind you.” One of the men spat a blob of phlegm on the floor upon leaving with the money.

Old Wugou held Ilven’s arm in place, “I’ve taught you countless times. Control your emotions.”

Ilven pushed him away, “I know. Their time will come.”

“And I’m the clock that decides their fate.”

He snorted heading back to the backyard. He had a lot of preparation to do.

So many people were courting death these days.

***

“Boss Barrel should we have let that kid off for disrespecting us like that, no one has dared to since One-legged Charlie and we made an example of him.” One of the men was clearly still peeved and asked.

“Yes.” The leader, Barrel cut him off. He caressed his rusty pistol that only they knew was just a piece of showmanship for the ignorant poor.

“It seems the rumors are true. That kid isn’t the normal trash we beat some manners into. He went toe to toe with Galdor, outnumbered, yet he still almost killed him. We would’ve lost.” Barrel spoke in a subdued voice as he vaguely looked back to the house now a distance away. He could tell that the killing intent in Ilven’s eyes was no bluff and he really might have made a move just then.

“Besides our goal wasn’t to clash with him to begin with, they accepted the raise too easily, its almost certain now.” He chuckled having completed his mission.

While there was indeed a raise in protection fees it was not by such a high amount, who could afford such a large increase? Most were already struggling to pay the current amount.

Scavengers could but pissing off high earning scavengers was far from wise. Their income also fluctuated greatly. Moreover, each scavenger team typically had some sort of backing.

Today’s Grey Tulip was different from the past, everyone important were likely second or third cousins, when needed this familial tie was sturdy supporting crutch.

They were ordered to test the cockroach wolf by the higher ups, so they came up with such a price to feel him out.

This was the main shelter, it was different from the slums. As the men in charge of collection this side Barrel was well informed, so he knew why they were sent.

Someone had contacted their boss to test if the Cockroach Wolf had gotten rich recently, they had already examined his past hauls and also knew he had recently recovered from severe injuries.

“That was a very good gun, he painted it over, but the model is not any of the three available here in Grey Tulip by normal means.”

Who wouldn’t bawl their eyes out as if you killed their mother with such a steep price increase?

5 coppers for two scavengers, one being a retired old man was already a bully price, they should be well aware of that but who asked them to offend the Boltons and have no one to rely on?

The gang’s accountant was very good at his job and allowed them to squeeze the most from these sacks of wealth, so they should already have been close to their limit.

They should’ve fought harder, cursed their mothers, spit at them etc. but they didn’t, this was already a privilege for scavengers as ordinary refugees dared not show any animosity to them at all.

In the past such things occurred with each raise, in the slums they even fainted from shock and pissed themselves.

Their reaction was very suspicious and telling.

The Cockroach Wolf being betrayed and bedridden was common news, he had pawned several good items to pay off his medical expenses, he should be very strapped for coin right now.

Yet he did a complete restock at Hallord’s shop.

As many suspected their Red Dog gang was a black glove of several forces, so they were able to obtain key information… like the estimated amount from Ilven’s hauls.

He typically had only two thousand kimber before tax, in better cases he averaged from four thousand to seven thousand kimber. This was still in just kimber, copper was only paid out by Old Hallord for very valuable items due to it being a hard currency.

Although 120 Kimber could be exchanged for a copper baht, you’d be hard pressed to find many persons willing to do the exchange at face value.

The Cockroach Wolf was typically paid in Kimber but now he had so much copper available after passing through a period of great difficulty.

It was abnormal no matter how one looked at it.

“It seems he really did have a windfall, likely not a small one at that.” For a moment Barrel couldn’t help but get greedy.

If he could manage to take everything…

No.

He quickly dispersed his evil thoughts.

Recalling the powerful sense of danger he felt from Ilven, the three of them couldn’t pull it off by themselves and would need backup.

Unlike his two subordinates he was once a scavenger for a few months, so he knew just how impressive a five year old scavenger was. It would be foolish for them to get ahead of themselves.

Besides the order came from high up so he was better keeping his head down.

“Whatever, let’s hurry up and shakedown as many sheep as possible and catch a few white or brown ladies hehe, I need some company when I stay inside for the Crimson Night.”

One man chuckled with a lewd grin as his groin felt itchy.

“Fuck yeah. You better not compete me with sir limp dick, the supply is running low these days since everyone’s been at it so we can only grab one or two each, anymore is impossible. I call dibs on the one from southside.”

The other one quickly cursed and nudged his companion.

Seeing this their leader quickly chimed in, “One each and return them this time. As you said we’ve been at it a while plus tributes to the higher ups have caused mostly only brown ladies to be left, any whites go to me. No forced prostitution either, the current market is too saturated, understood?”

He glared at both of them.

They couldn’t help but curse inwardly, Greedy bastard!

White and Brown ladies got their names from the popular pink ladies in brothels, white were once the picture of purity and innocence being strictly virgins but now it was loosened to very inexperienced women and brown were typically wives of others or frequent targets.

Due to the Red Dog gang’s past actions the most favored white ladies were almost extinct in Grey Tulip, while the higher ups had their ways the bottom dogs like them still had to struggle with in the flesh market.

“Well hurry up! We have donations to collect and women to bless! You twats better not slice or kill any this time, the higher ups have given a strict order to stop killing the chickens that lay eggs and give meat, they’re getting skinny.” Barrel lectured seeing their barely hidden displeasure.

“What? But its harvesting season soon the richest they’ll be for the year.”

“Yea the fattest these skinny chickens will get. They should already be taking loans since the caravan will be here right before harvest”

“…”

“One last time, then we’ll take a vacation otherwise they’ll be no chickens at all.”

The three gangsters quickly went over a catalogue of persons they could visit before evening.