The Pack returned to the Bright Hill. They left the slaves chained together in their carriage, a good walk outside town, hidden away in the woods. It was a poor hiding spot, but it would be good enough to dip into town to turn in the job and buy supplies.

This line of reasoning brought them to the guild, to turn in the job. That's when the clerk started giving Blake a mouthful.

"So you left all the stolen goods behind? And the stolen Companions as well?"

"I, we, uh, well, we got caught undercover and had to run, and when we got back, well, everything was gone. Don't worry, we got the leader. This is his necklace. You'll find his body next to the road if you look."

"Unbelievable. How are we supposed to pay reparations to the villages, families, and businesses they've harmed?"

"Uh..."

"Extracting stolen goods wasn't part of the job description," Sophia said. "Nor is it in the guild charter. Implied agreements don't matter. If it's an expected part of the job, it must be in text. You can't punish people for not doing something they weren't told to do. Likewise, you can't punish people for doing something they weren't told not to do, if they're otherwise in their right to do it."

The clerk sighed.

"Very well. I will take your grievances up with the local guild head. Here's your reward."

"Thank you for understanding. We look forward to continuing to do business with this guild in the future."

"Likewise." The clerk put up a 'be back soon' sign and left the counter.

"Well, that was rough, I had no idea what to say. Thanks."

"Just don't say anything unnecessary, alright?"

"I don't think I want to work with the guild any more than I have to any more, let alone talk."

So ended The Pack's first real job, giving Blake plenty of money for the first time since fleeing White Oasis.

Blake and Riley went to buy supplies.

Sophia and Nash went to tend to the horse, and to figure out what the slaves needed. Sanitation. Medical attention. Cushions. Blankets. Bedding. Stuff to play with. They didn't unchain them yet—some of them might panic and run away into town and get caught by the guards—but they did the best they could aside from that. Nash caught up with Blake and Riley to give them a run-down on what the slaves needed, and at the end of his work, Blake and Riley went back to planning.

"The road from here to the closest town in Queensland is a struggle, down hill and up again. It's going to take us a few days. So we need a lot of food, and some water to start with. We have, like, a dozen ish total mouths to feed, us included," Riley said.

"Double however much water you're getting," Blake said.

"What, and make life even harder on our horse? We can refill at streams. Minimum amount. I already checked where we can refill and figured out how much we'll need."

"You can't drink raw water, it makes you sick."

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"We've got someone who can use Black Magic, we don't even need to set up a fire to boil it."

"Oh. Right. Well, get a little extra just for me, I don't like how river water feels."

"Feels? Uh, it'll slow us down, but suit yourself."

"Thanks. You, uh, sure are resourceful."

"I'll take that as a compliment. When we cross over the border into Queensland, it's going to be a big deal for me. I want to make sure we don't have any trouble on the way."

"Ah. Right." Blake looked down at his bags. His money bag was almost empty. "Oh, damn it, we're running out of money."

By the time they were done shopping for supplies, Blake had a couple bags full, and Riley had a single, giant, enormous bag on her back. It was comical.

Blake scratched his head. "You sure you can carry that all right? Not going to, like, hurt your back or anything?"

"I'm a strong girl!" Riley said, doing a fist pump.

"If you say so!"

They returned to the carriage, re-explained the situation to the slaves, and got driving. Straight through Bright Hill. Nobody stopped their carriage, and they didn't stop for any reason.

It was almost strange. But not after it was explained to Blake.

One would assume, being somewhat close to the border into Queensland, there would be more security here, to prevent or reduce smuggling and trafficking. But Bright Hill was not a great concern. It was many hours—or one to three days, depending on conditions—out from the Komorebi River, and thus the border. Of greater concern was the more northern crossing of the Komorebi River, as it sat right on a town, and came out quite close to bandit country. And, sure, a smuggling operation might decide to take the Bright Hill route to avoid scrutiny, but then they would have to navigate the mountains of Queensland through the wilderness, in order to avoid passing through one of the two whole other towns on the way there. It made more sense to cross the river by boat further north, taking only what was needed, having resource stashes on both sides.

Who explained it to Blake, he couldn't remember. But the explanation was done, and it made enough sense to ease his anxiety.

At the end of the day, The Pack made camp in the woods. Riley went to get fresh water from a stream. Blake was standing guard in sight of the path to the road, and Sophia and Nash were tending to the slaves.

"Let them eat cake! Uh, it's not actually cake, but..." Nash said.

Blake turned around and saw how much food Nash was carrying.

"Stop right there. You can't feed them that much."

Nash's face filled with confusion.

"What? Why?"

"If someone goes straight from starving to eating like a king, their body freaks out and does a lot of really bad stuff internally. They could have a heart attack, or worse. Wait, you're a medic, right? Man, what are this world's researchers doing..."

Blake reasoned that the people of this world were a lot like people where he came from on the inside, since their food didn't poison and kill him. Or, at least, similar enough that this particular universal truth still applied.

"That... That doesn't make any sense. How are we supposed to feed them? They're starving," Nash said.

"Slowly and carefully," Blake said.

"Hmph," Sophia said. "Maybe that's why slaves from bandits are worth so little on the black market. They always had a habit of up and dying on their new owners in their first few days."

"How do you know that?" Blake said, turning to Sophia.

"I had my own story hunting down and killing Transporters and bandits, searching for Nash. You can just imagine all the terrible things I've seen and learned."

"If you say so... But yeah, like I said, slowly and carefully," Blake said, turning back to Nash.

"Right... So, uh..."

"I'll take care of it. And explain it to them."

Nash nodded.

Blake took a fair amount of the food from Nash and entered the passenger compartment of the carriage. The slaves they rescued were ravenous. This would take Blake some very careful words. No, no, he's not trying to starve them, they have plenty of food, they'll get a lot more once they're healthier, they don't need to worry, there's a medical reason for it, yes, really, hey, no, don't trade your food like that, you need a balanced—

This was going to take all night. What could he remember from biology class? Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell? Wait, that's actually relevant here—

After a very poor lesson on basic metabolism, the slaves were scared into eating their food as directed, without trading or sneaking extras. Good, Blake thought. He didn't like being a smartass. He was smart enough to be dangerous and no smarter, and he knew it, and he knew his place, or so he told himself. But if people were going to put themselves at risk of dying for no reason, he had to step forward, even if he was a liability.