Voices stirred Kaiden from his sleep, and he blinked, groggy and disoriented. It was morning, though he hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep. The wagon must’ve kept moving through the night, likely switching drivers along the way. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Kaiden peered out the back. Everything still looked the same—trees, open plains, dirt roads—nothing notable.

He yawned, noticing the buzz of conversation around him, and then his stomach growled, reminding him of just how hungry he was. Turning to Davick, Kaiden asked, “Have we already stopped for breakfast?”

“Breakfast?” Davick repeated, half laughing, half in disbelief. “We didn’t stop for breakfast.”

“Oh,” Kaiden replied. “Well, great… then maybe soon, huh?”

He looked up at the sky, trying to gauge the time by the sun’s position, but he wasn’t quite sure. It’s not like he could’ve done that back on Earth either. That was when he noticed the chuckles from around him.

“Is he serious?” one of the recruits muttered, drawing more laughs.

Kaiden turned to see a few others staring at him. “What?”

Davick, shaking his head but clearly amused, said, “Only royals and nobles eat breakfast. You still dreamin’?”

Well, shit, Kaiden thought, cringing inwardly. So much for trying not to stand out. Who would've guessed common folk skipped the most important meal of the day?

“There’s no way the pervert’s a royal or a noble,” another recruit chimed in, getting more snickers.

“Well, maybe it’s a thing where he’s from,” one suggested, trying to ease the teasing.

Davick jumped in. “Yeah, that’s gotta be it. I mean, I don’t think he’s told us where he’s from yet.”

“So, where ya from?” one recruit asked, leaning forward with interest. “You’re definitely not local, I bet.”

Oh shit, Kaiden thought, panic creeping in. I never thought about a backstory. Silence stretched as he scrambled for an answer, his mind coming up blank.

“Kaiden,” Davick prompted, nudging him. “We were talking to you.”

“Huh? What?” Kaiden muttered, stalling as his thoughts raced. “Right, I’m... uh… from…” His mouth started moving before his brain caught up. “Chi...ca...go,” he finally mumbled.

“Chicago?” someone repeated, the unfamiliar name echoed in curious tones.

Shit, Kaiden cursed inwardly. Why did I say Chicago? I wasn’t ready for this! He hadn’t even lived there since he was a kid—why on earth would he blurt that out?

“I knew he was a bit off,” another recruit said with a grin. “That explains it.”

“Turns out the rumor about weirdos from Chicago is true—no offense,” Davick teased lightly, though the others laughed along. “But this ain’t Chicago, and we don’t do breakfast. Got it?”

Wait, what? Kaiden thought, There’s a place called Chicago here? He nodded slowly, trying to keep up with his own lie. “Yeah, right, I’m from Chicago,” he said, still trying to grasp the situation. “It’s… different.”

The recruits exchanged glances and nodded, satisfied with that response.

“For a Chicagoan, you’re not half bad,” one of the recruits said, clapping him on the back.

“You’re not half as weird as some of the other folk we’ve met from there,” one of them said with a shrug.

“Yeah,” another chimed in. “Pants or not, sanest guy I’ve ever met from Chicago.”

What the hell’s wrong with Chicago in this world? Kaiden wondered, still trying to process his unexpected backstory.

Hopefully, lunch isn’t too far off, Kaiden thought. Then he felt the familiar pressure of his bladder. Great, just what I need right now.

Davick seemed to read his mind. “You slept for a really long time, though, so we’ll probably stop for lunch in less than an hour, I’d wager.”

“Thanks,” Kaiden replied. He could handle waiting that long. The group fell back into conversation, passing the time easily for another thirty minutes or so until the wagon finally came to a halt.

One of the men from the driver’s side came around the back. He looked to be around thirty years old, with short-cropped hair and the insignia of what was probably a corporal on his uniform. He was holding a large sack in one hand. “Break time, recruits!” he called out. “Grab a loaf as you exit the wagon. And for those who need to refill canteens or grab a drink, see Sergeant Torpe at the front of the wagon.”

Davick dropped down first, followed by Kaiden, who mimicked him, hopping out of the wagon and scooping out a loaf from the sack as the corporal held it open. The bread felt hard, already starting to stale up. So lunch is bread and water, Kaiden mused, biting into it.

As the corporal shouted, “Everyone back in the wagon in 15 minutes!” Kaiden noticed many of the recruits walking toward the treeline, clearly off to relieve themselves. Looks like lunch time also means bathroom break, he thought with relief, quickly joining them.

After taking care of business and grabbing a drink from Sergeant Torpe—since he didn’t even own a canteen—Kaiden was back in the wagon before he knew it. He didn’t own anything in this world yet except for the clothes on his back. Unless those were considered military property, which he wasn’t sure about. The journey resumed, the wheels creaking as they rolled down the dusty path.

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“So, Chicago, tell us. Why’d ya join the Dungeoneer Corps?” asked one of the more talkative recruits, a lanky guy with straw-colored hair and sharp blue eyes. He wore a mischievous grin as he leaned forward, clearly looking to stir up conversation. His name was Garin, and from what Kaiden had gathered, he seemed to enjoy keeping the mood light—especially at others’ expense.

This time, Kaiden didn’t skip a beat. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being referred to as Chicago, but that was neither here nor there. He shrugged it off and said, “For treasure, of course!”

His response drew some confused looks and a few chuckles. Oh great, what is it now? he thought.

Davick cut in with a laugh. “Don’t you know Dungeoneers don’t get to keep any of the loot you find in dungeons?”

This drew an incredulous, “What!?” from Kaiden.

“That damn recruiter told me we get part of the spoils!” he added, feeling heat rise to his face. The idea of treasure hunting had been half the appeal.

Another recruit, a burly, dark-skinned man with a shaved head named Harlan, chimed in. “Of course he lied,” Harlan said matter-of-factly. “He’s a recruiter.” His tone was so deadpan that it felt like Kaiden should’ve known this.

The other recruits around them nodded in agreement, some smirking at Kaiden’s disbelief.

“Was the stuff about a three-year contract a lie, too?” Kaiden asked, now fully skeptical.

“What, you got a three-year deal?” Harlan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kaiden hesitated. “Unless it was a lie,” he muttered, suddenly unsure.

Davick shook his head, clearly not buying it. “Impossible. You can see your contract from your status, right?”

Kaiden nodded and mentally checked his status. Sure enough, the contract was counting down from three years. “Yeah, it’s there. Three years,” he confirmed out loud.

“See. Anything linked to your status can’t be a lie. It’s the only absolute in this world.” Davick continued, shaking his head in disbelief. “But still... how the hell did you manage that?”

The other recruits were now staring at Kaiden with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “You bribe him or something?” one asked.

“Yeah, how’d you pull it off?” another chimed in, narrowing his eyes.

Kaiden shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t bribe anyone. I just… signed the contract.”

The others exchanged glances, clearly skeptical. Eventually, the questions died down, but a thick layer of suspicion hung in the air.

Then Garin broke the silence. “There’s a shred of truth to what your recruiter said about the loot, actually.”

This caught everyone’s attention. Raised eyebrows and murmurs of curiosity followed. Garin waited a moment for elaborating. “My uncle used to be a Dungeoneer, and he told me there is a way to earn some dungeon loot... through contribution points.”

“What’s that?” Kaiden asked, leaning in.

Garin shrugged. “I don’t know exactly how it works, but apparently, you get points for doing all sorts of stuff—killing monsters, completing missions, whatever. You can buy gear and dungeon loot with those points.”

Immediately, Garin was bombarded with questions from all sides. He held up both hands, laughing as he tried to deflect the barrage. “Hey, I don’t know all the details, alright? I’m just telling you what I heard. We’ll have to wait and see for ourselves.”

Kaiden mulled it over. It made sense—a system like that would keep the Dungeoneers motivated, give them a chance to earn a piece of the treasures, even if the military kept the best loot for themselves. He bet that’s exactly how it worked: the army would claim all the best gear and magical artifacts, leaving the lesser items as rewards for the Dungeoneers.

Davick wore a casual grin as he essentially confirmed Kaiden’s suspicions. “It’s pretty simple really. The military owns everything. They train us, pay us, feed us, and in return, we bring them the dungeon loot. If we’re lucky, they throw us a few bones as a thanks.

“Yeah, that’s sounds about right,” Harlan said.

Surprisingly, the mood in the wagon didn’t sour. Most of the recruits seemed to have already resigned themselves to the fact that they wouldn’t be getting rich off dungeon loot. The contribution system, if anything, was just a bonus.

Davick then decided to move on. “Anyway, I joined to make a name for myself as a smith,” he said, earning some respectful nods. “I want to make weapons that keep Dungeoneers alive.”

“That’s admirable,” one of the recruits said, and the others chimed in with praise, clearly impressed by Davick’s ambition.

Then Davick turned to Garin. “What about you? What made you sign up?”

Garin smirked, his eyes glinting mischievously. “I want to see a dragon.”

The group went quiet, but it wasn’t tension that filled the air—just amusement and chuckles of disbelief. Some of the recruits exchanged looks, shaking their heads, while others snickered, clearly finding Garin’s response too absurd to take seriously.

"Dragons?" Kaiden blurted out in reverence. Inside, he was practically buzzing. Holy shit, are dragons actually real in this world?

His excitement was immediately dashed by one of the recruits.

"C'mon, that's a myth," Harlan scoffed.

Garin countered quickly, "No, that's a rumor. Big difference."

Davick tried to break it up. "Alright, alright, everyone knows dragons existed up until 200 years ago, right?"

The group nodded and mumbled agreements like it was common knowledge. Kaiden mirrored their reactions, trying to stay cool despite his inner turmoil. This is the first I'm hearing about this, he thought.

Davick pressed on. "Now, we also know there's a rumor that General Thorne unlocked the legendary Dragoon class, which can only happen if you slay a dragon which—"

Garin finished the sentence eagerly, "Which means if Dragoons are back in our world, then so are dragons!"

Harlan jumped in, "Yeah, but those are just rumors, hearsay. Stuff people say to make him sound more badass. We don’t actually know if he’s a true Dragoon."

Kaiden listened intently, his heart racing. Dragons? Dragoons? Classes? He wasn’t entirely sure what a Dragoon was, but it sounded cool enough.

Then Davick turned to him, asking, "What do you think, Kaiden?"

Kaiden hesitated, still processing. "Uh... are dragons supposed to be found in dungeons?"

He wasn’t sure if that was a dumb question, but he was too swept up in the conversation to care.

"See, exactly! Chicago gets it. 200 years ago, during the last war with the dragons, they came directly from Drakkenholt, not some dungeon," Harlan said.

"Tsk, tsk," Garin interjected, shaking his head. "Yes, we all know dragons live on Drakkenholt."

"Lived," Davick corrected.

"Whatever," Garin shrugged. "Live, lived, doesn't matter. You can't get to Drakkenholt unless you can fly and since no one can fly there, we don’t actually know what’s there. Wyverns won't even go near there."

"But General Thorne's drake can," Davick chimed in, leaning forward. "So maybe... just maybe, General Thorne killed a dragon on Drakkenholt."

“I suppose that’s true...”

Harlan scoffed, "Come on, Davick. I thought you had more sense than that. There’s no way he killed a dragon on Dragon Island!"

"Because dragons don’t exist," someone else muttered, adding to the growing skepticism.

Davick held his ground. "I was just saying—General Thorne has a way onto the island, that's all."

Kaiden tried to keep his composure. Drakkenholt? Dragon Island? Wyverns and drakes? Holy shit.

Before Kaiden could even begin to process that, Garin jumped in again. "No, no, that’s not what the rumors say. They say he went to the Abyssal Maw and came out a Dragoon. A true Dragoon, which means there was a dragon in that dungeon."

Harlan wasn’t convinced. "We don’t even know if he’s really a Dragoon. That’s just a rumor."

Davick hesitated but then shrugged, "Yea, who knows..."

"I believe it," Garin said, his tone unwavering.

The group dissolved into an excited back-and-forth, debating the validity of dragons in this age. Kaiden's heart raced. Dragons. Back on Earth, the idea of seeing one had been pure fantasy. But here? Maybe... just maybe... there was a chance.

If dragons lived here once, maybe they weren’t all dead. He suppressed his questions for now, deciding to sit back and soak in as much as he could. There was a lot more to this world than he'd ever imagined, and he needed every piece of information he could get.