'Clik!'

I close the lid containing several pounds of monster's meat. The muscles in my body sigh slightly with relief but continue to scream out in agony.

Finally, that is the last of it. I am exhausted.

"BBBBbbbllllaaarrreee!" The Vutezal shriek in the distance.

It's a shame there's nothing that can be done about the shrieking. Maybe it will get better once we move somewhere else.

A black appendage coils around the storage box, slipping it into my backpack. Simultaneously, another tentacle shoves the first aside, depositing a bag of glowing mushrooms. Every joint in my body aches, each movement a protest of pain, and my eyes droop heavily. Waves of exhaustion radiate through our bond as a tentacle shakes itself harshly.

Alright. I'll finish packing these mushrooms and get them stored away.

Rising to my feet, I dust off my clothes and glance to the right. Tents and sleeping bags are neatly arranged around foldable tables where people gather, chatting over their meals. Some have already retired to their tents or sleeping bags, each with their asura or a weapon nearby. Two porters responsible for the expedition team's provisions are busy handing out plates of warm food. Meanwhile, another tends to a pot, filling the air with the savory aroma of simmering beef.

My stomach clenches as my mouth waters. Some tentacles react to the smell, and an overwhelming sense of desire engulfs me through our bond. Shaking my head, I rub the bridge of my nose.

I need to stay focused and complete the task before they decide to relocate.

Picking up my tools, I move to a patch of mushrooms and sit down.

"Alright, go take a break now," booms one of the guards. "Make it quick, though. We're leaving soon."

'Cling!' 'Clang!'

As I let the tentacles take over, I glance around. Several porters have already risen, hurrying towards the food distributors, while most Essevians remain in place, diligently harvesting mushrooms.

"Except for you lot," Another guard steps in, forming a blue barrier around some Essevians who were about to leave. "You need to finish harvesting the mushrooms."

The guards waited until the other porters had left before rounding up the Essevians. As they were being led away, one of them, a young man with brown hair, got into the guard's face.

"What do you mean?!" he shouts, his green tentacles flicking wildly behind him. "Why do they get to leave, and we don't?!"

It seems the sweatbox is about to claim its first victim.

The guard narrows his eyes, scanning the Essevians who are busy harvesting the mushrooms. Quickly, I avert my gaze and return to my task, just before he nearly catches my eye.

"So?" the guard asks. "What are you trying to say?"

"We had been working almost the whole day! I checked," the Essevian hisses. "We deserved a break!"

"Well, I'm sure you can work a little longer," the other guard chimes in. "You're undead. Look at the others; they're not complaining."

Cutting the mushrooms faster, I put them into a container and move to the next one. Meanwhile, dread radiates from the tentacles as they hastily shove boxes into the backpack haphazardly.

“Hold on, let me take this,” the guard says. “Uh-huh, yep. Aggressive? You could say that. Uh-huh, okay, I’ll tell him that. Alright, someone wants to talk with you.”

“Good, because I had a lot of things to—”

“Alright, already. Save it for when we get there.”

As I continue working, I sneak a peek out of the corner of my eye. One of the guards is leading the Essevian and a couple of others toward a tent.

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Following the person ahead of me, my muscles ache with every step. Simultaneously, my stomach churns and shrieks with hunger, while the tentacles pulse with pure exhaustion from the strain. A persistent pounding echoes in my head as my vision blurs. I rub my eyes and straighten my posture. We had been traveling for quite a while. Let's hope we'll stay there for a while before moving on. There's so much sleep I need to catch up on.

"You look unwell," the porter beside me states. "Have you gotten any sleep?"

I pull my hand away and face the speaker. She is a woman in her mid-thirties with short, curly black hair. Something clenches painfully within my chest as the weight on my shoulders lightens.

Why do I feel relieved and sad at the same time? Why is she being so friendly? Is this an attempt to fish for information?"

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"I'm alright, thank you for asking," I answer with a smile. "It's probably just nerves. We are inside an unstable dungeon, after all."

I quickly glance ahead, checking if anyone is looking behind them.

You can never be too careful about who might be listening in. The guild members on this team might take offense to what I say and silence those grievances. I don't want to end up in the sweatbox sooner than necessary.

"Hey, you," Travis says as I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Do you know where that loudmouth Essevian is? The one with brown hair and green tentacles?"

"No," I scan the people ahead of me. "No, I don't. Sorry."

"Ah, that's a shame because that insufferable jerk owes me a couple of punches to the face after what he pulled."

My eyes flicker to the back where a coffin-like metal box with robotic legs moves swiftly.

Whatever he did to Travis, being inside the sweatbox more than made up for it.

"That's weird," Travis says, looking behind him with narrow eyes. "I don't remember that walking box being there before."

Glancing up at him, I study Travis's face.

Is he pretending not to know what the sweatbox is, or does he genuinely not recognize it? Surely he must have guessed by now.

'Bang!' 'Kak!' 'Boom!'

Different colors of lights flash ahead of me as porters push their way to the front. I step aside, letting one move past me, and rub my throbbing shoulders.

They must be engaged in a battle. I'm grateful that, for now, I'm not tasked with handling monsters' bodies on the move.

"Travis!" Matthew says, moving beside the cobra. "Why did you go and disappear on me like that, eh?"

Matthew peeks over Travis's shoulder, staring at me unblinkingly. At that moment, chills run up my spine under his gaze. His tentacles pulsate with slight suspicion and exhaustion, sending a questioning feeling over our bond.

Something tells me I shouldn't get involved with this man; he smells like trouble.

Matthew's jaw tightens briefly before morphing into a wide smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"So, who is that over there, Travis?" Matthew says casually. "Your girlfriend?"

"No," Travis answers, giving Matthew an unamused glare. "She's—" He pauses and turns toward me. "What's your name?"

"Beatrice," I quickly interject, preparing to excuse myself. "I feel like I'm intruding on your conversation, so I'll..."

"Oh, no, not at all," Matthew interrupts, his voice low. "Stay, we would love to have you with us. Right, Travis?"

'Bang!' 'Kak!' 'Boom!'

Matthew glances over to my other side and blinks in surprise.

"Why, hello there, gorgeous," he flirts. "Mind gracing me with the honor of telling me your name, beautiful lady?"

The woman beside me blushes, brushing her hair back. "My name's Mary."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mary," Matthew says with a smile. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but are you perhaps a tea fan?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I saw that you have a pin of a famous tea brand on your backpack." With a twinkle in his eyes, Matthew explains, "My partner has the same one, so I'm familiar with it."

'Bang!' 'Kak!' 'Boom!'

I watch the flashing lights ahead and occasionally glance at Travis's face.

Although I'm glad Mathew's attention is focused elsewhere, I feel very uncomfortable with what's happening.

The person in front of me halts, stopping in an area full of rocks and trees.

"We're camping here for the time being," Penny instructs us. "Get as much rest as possible. You will need it."

My body sighs in relief at her words.

Finally, it will be nice to get some sleep.

"Alright, old man," Travis grunts as he lugs Matthew over his shoulder. "They are planning on setting camp soon. We'd better secure a place before all the best spots are taken."

With his luggage in hand, Travis swiftly walks away. I stare at their backs, blinking my eyes several times.

What a peculiar duo. But then again, never in my wildest dreams did I think a human and a snake person could get along.

Something taps my right shoulder several times, insistently, so I turn my head to face a black tentacle. It points toward a ledge on a pile of boulders.

Not bad. It's a good vantage point to watch out for ambushes. I'll need to get closer before deciding, though.

The black tentacle puffs up with waves of pride, and images of beds and blankets flood my mind.

As I approach the ledge, the sweatbox swiftly overtakes me with its long, outstretched limbs. It stops near a bush and opens its door, dumping out the unfortunate Essevian curled into a ball. Suppressing a shudder, I turn away from the scene.

----------------------------------------

"Oh, hey, are you busy?" Mary pokes her head up.

"No," I answer, scanning her face, "not at the moment."

Mary hauls herself over the ledge and stands up. Keeping my eyes on her, I quietly feel for the knife stitched inside my coat sleeve.

"Not to be rude, but," I glance behind Mary, "Is there a reason why you're here?"

"Some of us are having a little mini-celebration. One for having survived this far."

"That sounds nice," I smile. "I'm afraid I have to decline. Social events are not my thing."

I've just gotten my sleeping bag out. The only thing I'm looking forward to is sleeping.

"Well, if you change your mind later on, you're welcome to join us," Mary smiles gently as she retrieves something from her pocket. "Here," she hands me a thermal water bottle, "Starlight Mushroom Tea."

My eyes widen as I stare at the bottle. After a moment of hesitation, I cautiously grasp its handle.

"Isn't that the mushroom they had us harvest earlier?"

"Shh," Mary holds a finger to her mouth and winks. "What they don't know won't hurt them. Besides, I harvested more than enough to fool them."

Giving me a wave, she turns around and starts climbing down. I watch her for a moment before returning to my sleeping bag.

What a strange woman. She's going to get herself killed at this rate.

Settling into the sleeping bag, I close my eyes.

"Oh, you must be pulling my leg," a voice yells from below, "Ain't no way that happened."

Opening my eyes, I scoot closer to the edge and look down. A group of men and women are gathered around a fire, their faces bathed in its warm, golden glow. A sulfuric, citrusy smell wafts up as they gulp from large wooden cups.

"Believe me, that's what I thought at first," one of the men says, gesturing widely with his hands, "But it is true."

The group laughs, a few clapping the man on his back. Nearby, another man tilts his head to the side. "Really?"

As they converse, a woman quietly pours a generous amount of liquid into her cup.

"Hey, don't hog the beer!" another man yells, playfully shoving the woman. "Save some for the rest of us!"

"Oh, come on!" Lana yells, flinging a pillow at Jack's face. "You're supposed to share it with the rest of the team!"

"Ah ah ah," Jack tuts, holding the jar of coffee above Lana's head. "I'm a businessman at my core, my dear." He gestures with his other hand. "Pay up."

"Trevor!"

"Guys, guys," Trevor steps between them with a laugh, "Calm down. Jack, put the coffee down and no one will get hurt."

Looking away from the group, I glance around me. The ledge's surface is rocky and hard, barren of any life. Coldness radiates and seeps into my sleeping bag.