"That should be the last of it," Mary sighs in relief, wiping a hand across her forehead. "There sure has been a lot of work these days."

As sweat runs down her skin, Mary starts cracking her joints. Her body is covered from head to toe in thick soot and grime, her clothes matted with various fluids and small tears in the fabric.

She's like a monster. Despite being half my height, Mary can lift objects much heavier than her. If I hadn't witnessed her strength firsthand, I might have mistaken her for a hunter in disguise. Years of working as a porter must have honed her abilities.

Clicking the pen in my hand, I start scribbling on my clipboard. A sense of neutrality emanates from the bond as tentacles scan for threats behind me.

'Crack!' 'Crack!' 'Crack!'

"Ah, that's better!" Mary exclaims, bending her wrist in an awkward position.

That makes my spine crawl. I've never understood why someone would willingly crack their joints. Lana always seems to enjoy doing it, though.

"Aren't you feeling hot with that jacket on?" Mary asks, walking up beside me. "Do you want to take it off? I could help you put it away."

"No, I'm alright. Thanks for asking," I reply, turning toward her and shaking my head quickly.

It's hot wearing a coat, but I feel more comfortable with it on. I'll take it off when the heat becomes too much to handle.

"Say, do you have anything else that needs to be done?" I ask.

Placing a hand under her chin, Mary looks up at the ceiling. "There are a few things, but most of them don't need to be done right away." She picks up a crate and starts to move away. "I'm going to see what else needs to be done in the meantime."

"I'll come with you," I say, quickly following after her. "I can help if needed."

"That's really sweet of you, Beatrice, but I don't want you to push yourself."

"Oh no, it's my pleasure. I want to help you."

After all, it's my job to observe how Mary interacts with others. I haven't been sticking to her side for nothing these past few days. If she can survive this long through connection, I should learn from her. It could be useful later on."

Mary sighs as she walks. "Alright, if you're sure."

'Ckinkle!' 'Ckinkle!' 'Ckinkle!'

A striped lizardman passes by, pushing a cart full of Ucroil. "Hey, As'ryik!" Mary greets. The lizardman gives her a curt nod.

That type of lizard does not acknowledge people it doesn't respect. Perhaps that's why Mary greets everyone who passes her.

"There sure had been many of those hanging around the dungeon," Mary remarks, briefly glancing at the cart behind her. "A suspicious amount if you ask me."

So I'm not the only one who has noticed.

"Hmm? Isn't that normal?" I casually ask, slowing down my walking. "The environment in this dungeon seems suitable for fire asura."

"No, I've been to this dungeon several times already," Mary states firmly. "Ucroil isn't hard to find anywhere, but the amount we harvested is alarming." Her brow furrows as she continues, "The asura here, when stable, tends to be more neutral rather than the spicy hint we've been experiencing lately."

"So you're suspecting the dungeon is becoming unstable."

"Yes, but it's only a D rank; the changes shouldn't be too dangerous," Mary mutters quietly. "Even if it does, we should still have enough time to evacuate."

Strange, it feels as if she's trying to reassure herself.

Waving her hand at some porters, Mary turns toward me. Her eyes scan my face before looking past me.

"You do realize that I'm not going to bite your head off for suspecting the dungeon's asura is unstable, right?"

I clutch the clipboard tighter. "I'm sorry?"

How in the world did she know?! She's not a mind reader, from what I can tell. Did she somehow get in here? No, I would have sensed it if someone's asura lightly grazed across my head. My so-called brother helped me with that plenty.

"Your eyes were flicking around nervously, and the tentacles connected to you subconsciously respond to how you feel," Mary explains, gesturing at my back. "We've been teammates for several weeks; it would be strange for me not to notice."

Anger mixed with surprise suddenly emanates through the bond.

"I think you're mistaken, Mary," I say, smiling at her. "How could I, a low-tier Essevian, tell if a dungeon is becoming unstable? We can't feel it in our environment like you."

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Staring at me with pity in her eyes and a somewhat amused smile, Mary slowly shakes her head.

"From one porter to another, try to let down your walls a bit. While being cautious of your surroundings is good, it's not healthy to always be on guard. Maybe get to know some of the other porters."

"I am fine, Mary," I say, clenching my jaw. "Besides, I prefer to be by myself."

"Preference or self-isolation? Either way, you still need some positive interaction with others. How about Travis? You guys seem to like each other."

Avoiding her gaze, I stare down at the clipboard in my hands.

"Look, Beatrice, I'm worried about you. I don't want you to end up like me at some point."

"Mary!" A voice calls out from a distance. "Some asura hunters are causing problems with the Essevians."

"Oh, for the love of," Mary loudly sighs. "I swear, it happens every month. Newbie asura hunters who think they're all that." Dragging a hand down her face, she swiftly turns around. "I'll be there."

As Mary is about to run off, she looks back at me. "Just think about what I said, alright? We'll have to pick up this conversation later."

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

Is it safe for me to sit here exposed, without any cover from potential attacks?

With my back against the wall, I sit on a large boulder while Mary and Arbora are seated on the floor nearby. Several porters around us are setting up their tents or laying out sleeping bags.

"This isn't what I had in mind when I said we'd continue this conversation later," Mary complains as Arbora picks at something in her hair. "And remind me why I'm here again?"

"Oh, hush, you," Arbora chides, digging through Mary's hair. "Why is it such a mess?! Don't you humans usually take better care of your fur?"

"We're in a dungeon. When would I have time to fix my hair? I could barely manage to wash myself."

Silently observing the exchange, I sip the tea in my hand. A sweet, floral scent wafts into my nose as the tangy liquid flows over my tongue. A tentacle nudges me, seeking a taste.

Well, at least this makes up for it. It doesn't taste half bad. Probably the best I've had in years.

"How in the world do I expect to attract, hmm," Arbora hums thoughtfully. "What's that word you humans like to use... ah yes, a husband?"

"Why does that matter?" Mary asks.

"Isn't that the end goal?"

Shifting from her spot, Mary tries to dislodge Arbora's hands.

"Not for me. I don't think I'm ready for that kind of responsibility yet." Mary winces as Arbora tugs rather harshly at a strand of hair. "I still have a couple of years left in me. Heh, I haven't even accomplished all my goals yet."

Glancing down, my reflection stares back at me from the surface of the tea.

I don't think I have much of a goal beyond surviving.

One of the tentacles suddenly holds up the camera recorder and starts filming. There's a pulse of happiness radiating from the bond.

"Eh, your choice," Arbora huffs. "But if you change your mind, I could hook you up with someone." Using her tail, Arbora grabs a picture and presents it to Mary. "Look at this lizard. He's not too bad. His scales are somewhat dull and less colorful than I would like, but he's quite fast on his feet and pretty strong."

Mary only spares a glance at the picture before pushing it away. "That's nice... Not really what I'm looking for, to be honest."

"What more do you need to look for?"

"I don't know, maybe someone with a personality? Someone funny?"

The camera recorder shakes as the tentacle holding it vibrates with amusement.

This feels rather private. Perhaps I should excuse myself and investigate where the tentacle acquired the camera recorder.

"Bah, picky," Arbora turns her head toward me and licks her snout. "Hey, uh, you, Essevian, do you have someone you like?"

Blinking rapidly, I stare at her, mouth slightly open.

"Excuse me?" I give Arbora a sidelong glance.

"Sorry, Beatrice," Mary apologizes, glaring at the lizard behind her. "Arbora meant to ask if you have any romantic interests."

"Nope, that's-"

Arbora suddenly hunches over, hand on her abdomen. I watch her for a moment before turning back to Mary.

Rolling my shoulders, I stare at the soles of my boots. "I did have a small interest in someone when I was younger."

"Hey, Beatrice, do you mind looking this over for me?" Trevor catches up hurriedly beside me. "I'd like to hear your opinion on it."

"That's..." Mary hesitates momentarily as she helps Arbora up. "Quite a surprise."

I shrug. "It was inevitable."

"What was he like?" Mary asks.

"Greetings, everyone! It is I!" Trevor salutes dramatically, but his oversized top hat promptly falls. "Oh, fudge, hang on."

"Nothing special," I mutter. "Just someone who likes making music."

While Trevor wasn't musically talented, he had a knack for drawing people in. Perhaps it was his compassion.

"Come on, guys, give her some space." A boy with brown hair pushes through the crowd and crouches near me. "Hi, I'm Trevor. What's your name?"

Perhaps Trevor would have been better off if he had never had the misfortune to meet me.

Digging the heels of my boots into the dirt, I clutch the cup tighter between my hands.

"So?" Arbora persists, despite Mary's glare. "What happened?"

Glancing up, I shrug. "He's taken."

"And?"

"I got over it."

"What?"

Shock immediately ripples through the bond as a tentacle fumbles to catch the camera recorder.

"It wasn't easy at first, but I gradually let go of my feelings for him," I explain, watching as disbelief spreads across Arbora's face. "It wouldn't have been healthy for our relationship in the long run, so we talked it out and set up boundaries."

Although it was sad then, I think it's all for the better, though I'm still somewhat embarrassed about it.

While scratching the top of her head, Arbora glances from Mary to me.

"Well, that's interesting to know how humans court each other," Arbora remarks, her tail swishing back and forth, lightly sending dust into the air. "It's quite bizarre and miraculous how you humans even managed to thrive as a species."

The tentacles conveyed their agreement through the bond, assembling clips of films that state: 'Humans. your body is weak. but we're thriving! somehow. Omg, that's an Essevian! those insects reproduce like rabbits. I can't beat every you, Jerry.'

I'm not sure if I should feel reassured or threatened by that message.

Mary opens her mouth to say something, then pauses. Placing a hand under her chin, she stares thoughtfully at Arbora's back before shrugging. I meet her gaze with half-lidded eyes and raise an eyebrow.

"I mean, Arbora kind of had a point," Mary says, turning towards me. "Somewhat."

'Bang!' 'Crac!'

"Mary!" he gasps, trying to catch his breath. "There's trouble. One of the Essevians is going wild."

His eyes meet mine, and he flinches. There are scratch marks and what appears to be a stab wound on his ankle.

"You're bleeding," Mary observes, already tearing off a piece of her clothing. "We need to patch that up."

"No time!" the man insists, brushing off Mary's concern. "My asura is 3.69, an E rank. I'll be fine. My body can take it, but the other porters…" He shakes his head vehemently. "Most are F-G rank, not so good."

"Alright, explain on the way," Mary commands calmly. "Lead us."

Nodding, he gestures for us to follow before taking off.