“Is that why you were slaughtering the Crackjaws under our protection?” Shen-Ya asked, her eyes widening in realization as one of the pieces fell in place in the puzzle that Griffin Thorne was.

“Well, no,” Griffin replied dryly. “Those demonic fish really are too easily excitable. I was level 1 and found myself besieged by one crackjaw after the other—- it’s a miracle that I’m alive, really. But you’re not entirely wrong, I didn’t particularly mind killing them. Better those dumb beasts dead than I, after all.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t kill shengtian, otherwise I would’ve made you pay,” Shen-Ya grumbled, though she didn’t seem entirely serious in following through with her threat.

“Shengtian?” Griffin tried to get the pronunciation right, only to fail miserably.

“A crackjaw,” Jun-Ra began. “She has scales of pristine coral and aquamarine blue, quite a sight to behold in person.”

“Oh,” Griffin sheepishly muttered. “Well, I don’t remember killing anything that exotic.”

“What’s your level now?” Shen-Ya asked. “Or will you refuse to answer that as well?”

Indeed, Griffin hesitated for a moment. Ultimately though, he wasn’t too keen to repeat his past life’s mistakes. Money, infamy and even power meant little if you had no one by your side to enjoy it with you.

That didn’t mean that he was going to tell the perfect diplomat, Jun-Ra or her easily irritable junior sister, Shen-Ya, that he was the apostle of greed—- whatever that meant. Neither would he give away any secrets about his class, for as long as it could be avoided. But level? Jun-Ra seemed to have a good idea about his lack of it, so a level shouldn’t reveal too much.

“I’m level four,” Griffin finally disclosed.

Both Jun-Ra and Shen-Ya turned to look at each other, in their eyes a knowing gleam.

Griffin had just given away a lot of information, from the looks of it.

Before he could even begin chastising himself for going soft, Jun-Ra began, “It should not matter what your calling is, as long as you have one. Your first class will be unlocked at level five. From then on, further classes are determined based upon your rank, calling, level and other minor factors.”

“But a hundred F-rank creatures….. That’s problematic,” Shen-Ya theorized.

“Indeed,” Jun-Ra agreed. “It is not the creature’s strength itself that is problematic. The system will award you the kill as long as your contribution towards slaughtering it is greater than three out of four quarters and you finish it. Meaning, we can still assist you with binding skills, though the experience you receive will fall by a margin.”

“But that’s not the real problem,” Shen-Ya revealed. “Zenari-Shu is a border town to begin with, which means that the concentration of beasts is low to begin with. Moreover, any beast within our vicinity gets slaughtered on sight, on a first come first slaughter basis. It is free cultivation resources, after all.”

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“Indeed. The Abyssal Forest is teeming with beasts, but with your current abilities, it is a six week journey even if I carry you part of the way,” Jun-Ra revealed.

“Is there no other way?” Griffin asked, sounding a bit worried now.

“We could tell Elder Shirong,” Jun-Ra revealed. “She is trustworthy and she can get you there way before time, but….”

“Her loyalty lies to the sect,” Shen-Ya completed her senior sister’s words, not letting her voice out the implication. “If she suspects your calling to be even remotely special, she will make you disclose it. I do not think it would be possible to convince her not to report to the Sect.”

Jun-Ra shook her head, before speaking, “That route would be disastrous. Ironically enough, the only real method that will allow you to kill a hundred beasts is the one you chose.”

“The Gilded Dungeon?” Griffin guessed.

“Yes. In fact, it might be tougher for you to avoid it at this stage, even if you wanted to,” Jun-Ra had a slightly exasperated expression on her visage as she said that.

“Why?” Griffin asked, perplexed.

“This is why you should have kept your head down and listened to Senior Sister Jun,” Shen-Ya said, not missing a chance to criticize him. “Elders do not request us disciples and guardians. They tell us and we do it. If you do not at least try to accomplish the goal set for you, that would be an insult to Elder Shirong. A loss of face is no less than an attempt on one’s life, so do not be surprised if she tries to kill you.”

“Kill me? For being a boisterous teenager? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“A teenager? How old are you?” Shen-Ya asked.

“I don’t remember, but it does say eighteen here,” He gestured to the interface before him, long having assumed that people could only see their own ‘systems’. Otherwise the warning it had offered him was self-contradicting. “Though that feels wrong,” he added, just in case it took away from the reason Jun-Ra, who was clearly the one pulling strings, wanted to help him.

“I see,” Jun-Ra said. “However, Shen-Ya is correct. You must head into the Gilded dungeon, both for your own sake and Elder Shirong’s honor. But before that, there is still one thing that we must do.”

“What is that?” Griffin asked, just in time to see Shen-Ya scowl at Jun-Ra.

“Just leave Shengtian alone,” Shen-Ya muttered, clearly having resigned herself to the crackjaw’s unfortunate fate.

“Oh,” Griffin muttered. “Wouldn’t that get you in trouble?”

“The Crackjaws are valuable to the Martial Law Sect, true. However, for the next week only I and Shen-Ya are I responsible for oversight over the sewers. It was intended to be an easy contribution point task, initially. Crackjaws have little value besides their contribution to civic infrastructure and we are not in the Wildlands, few cultivators are interested in taming captive beasts or have the correct class affinities for it. I will file their mysterious deaths under a ‘Potential Sinful Act’ committed, though you can only kill enough to get to level five.”

“Isn’t that, uh, dereliction of duty?” Griffin asked, a little flabbergasted.

“Since when do you care, criminal?” Shen-Ya shot back, clearly not happy with needing to sacrifice the murder fish-alligators.

“Huh. Touché, I suppose,” Griffin shrugged in a show of genuine surrender, having well and truly lost that round of verbal sparring.

He definitely had a score to settle, too.