I sat there, still looking at the palace, when Rue flew over. Invisible or not, he dropped his head unerringly onto my lap and nudged my hand. I laughed, scratching his ear. We stayed like that for hours—him snoozing while I scratched his ears, nudging my hand each time I stopped, and me watching the palace, noticing the groups of people who went in and, after a while, came out looking disappointed or angry.

Something was bugging me, but I couldn’t pin down what it was. It lingered at the tip of my tongue, like recognizing someone but not quite placing them. It drove me nuts until I told myself, “The hell with it,” and forcefully turned my thoughts elsewhere. I lay back on the roof and looked at the sky. Clouds gathered in the distance, but they hadn’t reached the city yet. Another storm was on its way. I hoped it would be a short one—I had no intention of flying under pelting hail.

Suddenly, the answer floated up. Where was the money? We took a ton of stuff from the palace. Just the sheer number of cushions and poufs was staggering—they sure loved their cushions. I’d hauled out ridiculous amounts of carpets, tapestries, and silk and velvet drapes. Ceramics and vases, brass and silver serving dishes, furniture, clothes. Not to mention the massive laboratory Al emptied. But where was the money? I’d seen women paying with coins in the slums, so there was definitely money around. But where was it?

“Stay here buddy,” I told Rue. “I’m going to check something.”

He harrumphed but didn’t object.

I waited until the last group left the palace, then walked into the main entrance hall. Activating my Luck, I felt a subtle tug pulling me down to the left. It took over half an hour to find a stairway leading down, hidden behind a slightly ajar metal door. The steps were rough stone—not the marble used in the rest of the palace—dark, steep, and uneven. I descended into a warren of rooms, each with thin pallets on the floor and clothes scattered around. The place reeked of sweat—that deep, stale stench that only comes from not bathing for weeks. It was awful.

My Luck kept pulling me down, but this time, finding the door was even tougher. I wandered around for over an hour, taking shallow breaths through my mouth to fend off the stench. In the farthest room from the stairs, I finally noticed something different: a wall with no pallets beside it. That was the only thing that stood out. I took out a small hammer and tapped along the wall. The section above the empty floor sounded hollow. I pressed on each side, the top and bottom, but the wall didn’t budge, no matter how much strength I put into it.

Sconces with oil lamps lined the walls, and I tried pushing and pulling them, but nothing happened. The stench was overwhelming, and my mouth tasted foul. Enough was enough. I pulled out a thin mattress to muffle the sound, grabbed the biggest sledgehammer I had, and went at it. The wall crumbled after a few hits, revealing yet another stairway down. I facepalmed. Why hadn’t I just used a sword with a mana edge? It worked before.

At the bottom of the stairs stood an enormous arched metal door. This time, I didn’t waste time on nonsense. When the door refused to budge, I cut the stone around it and shoved. It fell with a loud boom. It fell on chests, but they survived the assault. I propped the door against a wall and checked the chests.

There were nine chests. Two large ones held curved swords and daggers with jeweled pommels. Five contained coins—two filled with gold, three with silver. Those I planned to distribute to the residents of the slums with the food. Another chest held gems, and when I opened the last, smallest chest, my jaw dropped. It was full of cores. They were relatively small, between four and six centimeters, but there were a lot of them. I counted seventeen and just stared at the chest. Shaking my head to restart my brain, I stored everything and got the hell out of there.

Another group was exploring the palace, cursing up a storm about it being empty. I flew above them, left the palace, and sent to Rue, “Let’s go home, buddy.”

While I was exploring, the clouds had gotten closer, and the wind had picked up.

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The minute I walked in, Mahya jumped up, exhaling in relief. “Where were you?” she asked, her eyes searching my face.

“I needed to clear my mind, so I went to the other side of the city. They were celebrating! Can you believe it?” I shook my head, still baffled. “They had a party in the streets with food, drinks, and music.”

“They were celebrating here too.” She folded her arms, a satisfied look crossing her face. “Just goes to show it was the right course of action. If so many people are happy that someone died, that person deserved it.”

“Yeah, but he’s not the only one who died,” I replied, my voice dropping as I looked away.

“I know,” she said, unfazed, shrugging. “The bastard enforcers who killed their kids.”

Her tone was so matter-of-fact it sparked something in me, and I felt my anger flare. “A lot of people died!” I shouted, fists clenching. “Maybe we didn’t pull the trigger or hold the swords, but we killed them! Their blood is on our hands!”

She stared at me, her eyes wide, momentarily taken aback. Then, without a word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close. “Did you walk through the slums yesterday?” she asked softly, her voice a calm contrast to my anger.

“Yes,” I muttered, my voice losing its edge as I felt myself deflate.

“Did you see even one person mourn them?” She pulled back slightly, her gaze steady on mine. “Just one, no more.”

“No,” I admitted, exhaling as my shoulders slumped.

She held my gaze, her expression gentle but firm. “What does that tell you?”

“I know they were assholes,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m not arguing about that. It’s just… I once killed someone in defense of others, and every other time, it was self-defense. Here, it’s not so black and white.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she replied, crossing her arms, her voice calm but unwavering. “It was in defense of others. Of a lot of others. Thousands, even.” She looked away, her jaw tightening. “Maybe the prince and his enforcers didn’t walk the streets cutting people down, but they were killing them—slowly.” Her gaze returned to me, sharper now. “Which makes it worse, not better.”

I rubbed my face in frustration, struggling for words.

“We should not involve ourselves with local affairs,” Al said from behind me, his tone clipped.

I turned to him, frowning. “Can you see someone in need and ignore it?”

“Yes, I can,” he answered, his eyes steady. “The question is if you can.”

“Don’t give me that,” I shot back. “You’re the one who cleared the dangerous predators in Alaska to save lives!”

“Yes, I did. Quietly, out of sight. Did you see me teaching people alchemy or sword fighting, warning them about what was coming?”.

“I’d already sent out a warning by then,” I replied, feeling my defenses rise.

“Yes, and that was your place to do it,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “It was your world, at least for a time. You had roots there, a connection—no matter how slight or intangible. I did not, so it wasn’t my place.”

“It’s a cold outlook,” I muttered, crossing my arms.

“It is,” he agreed, with a small nod. “But without knowing the full picture, we might leave a trail of destruction in our wake, through every world we travel.”

“Then why did you go along with it this time?” I asked, my tone challenging.

“Because it was important to you and Mahya,” he said simply, meeting my gaze. “And we’re a team.”

“Yeah, I get it.” I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of my own decision. “I’ve actually decided not to get involved in local politics, government, or anything like that. I’ll help people if I see the need—walking away isn’t in my nature. The paycheck wasn’t the only reason I chose to become a doctor.” I shrugged. “But that’s my new boundary. Only one-on-one help.”

Mahya tilted her head, studying my expression. “What about Cloud?”

“I’ll help her,” I replied, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “I feel responsible for her, at least a little bit.” I chuckled. “Still counts as one-on-one help, right?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You should have been a lawyer, not a doctor.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “By the way, did you notice anything missing when we cleared the palace?”

“No?” she replied, her tone questioning.

“Of course,” Al cut in, his eyes narrowing with understanding. “The funds.”

“You’re absolutely right,” I said, nodding. “And I found them… along with something else.”

“What?” Mahya asked, leaning forward, curiosity written all over her face.

Without another word, I pulled out the chest filled with cores, setting it down on the living room table and opening it.

Gobsmacked’ barely covered their reactions. Both sucked in a sharp breath, eyes bulging as if they might pop right out, and jaws hanging somewhere down near their chests.

Mahya leaned over, counting them one by one, her smile growing wider with each core. Suddenly, she threw her arms around me, lifted me up, and spun me around. “You are the best, best, best looter in all the worlds!”

Al and I burst out laughing. Mahya really loved gifts.