Dr. Alan's POV:

You will go to the 7th compartment to oversee the mission. Make sure you do not go past one village; if not, it might seem like a planned attack. Recalling his discussion with the branch head of the Winslow family in the 5th compartment, 57 years but he was a well-built man for his age, with yellow hair with a few black strands, which was a trait that only true bloods of the Winslow family had. Black eyes and an aura that could oppress anyone within a 5-meter radius. There are rumors that he also inherited one of the 10 sword techniques handed down by our founder, Arthur, to his sons. It is said each technique would take years to learn and more to perfect, meaning one could spend his whole life just learning one of these techniques. Due to that reason, Arthur's children recreated the techniques into simpler and easier forms which were passed down for generations.

Alan looked at the lady by his side, who was supposed to be a maid in the Ashford family but looked nothing like one with her jet-black hair and sky-blue eyes coupled with her demeanor. One could say she was born for royalty. By his right was a man; there was nothing special about him. All he knew was that he was just a lowly guard in the Ashford mansion. Although both families have not been on good terms for a while, they still kept a professional relationship and nothing more. He was currently in a carriage owned by the Ashford family heading to the 6th compartment gate. And why was he taking a ride on such an ancient and incompetent means of transportation? Simple, it's because no one, absolutely no one, in the 7th compartment had any means of making money enough for themselves and their family, not to mention buying a vehicle. So, none of the top automobile manufacturers decided to open a branch or shop there. Even though they had the largest population on the whole ship, they were basically useless, just a bunch of lowlives. As such, they were used as test dummies, slaves, and sex workers for the elites on the ship.

Looking back at the two pieces of trash by his sides, what if they decided to kill me and take the gold in my bag, or worse, give him to the Ashford family as a show of loyalty? Thinking of all these, he laughed out loud. That wasn't even possible. Alan, who was close to having mastered ziy control and concentration into his sword, was more than confident he could take on the muscle-headed guard and maid if things were to go south. Nonetheless, he had to stay on guard until the mission was complete. Looking out the window, he saw a carriage and some guards riding on horses. At the back was another carriage. Guessing by the number of carriages and guards, Alan could guess the total number of people was over 40, including the two inside the carriage. After a week on the road, they had finally gotten to the checkpoint, the gate between the 6th and 7th compartment. They were at the gate for almost 10 hours before their party was granted permission. As soon as the chariot passed the 50 meters gate, the air suddenly went bad. It smelled like a mixture of feces and decaying corpse. Alan almost vomited the food he had for breakfast. Looking back at the woman, he saw the excitement in her eyes, while the man was still indifferent. He hated being here; he hated the idea of mingling with such lowlives, but the mission must be completed. If not, the Branch Head might dispose of him and sell his family into slavery, or worse, send down to the 7th compartment. Just the thought of what might happen to his wife and kids down here made him shiver.

A few hours later, he could see the gates of the village and some kids standing just outside the gates. He didn't bother trying to wonder whose kids they were as he took out a piece of paper with the address of the place he was to meet with a commander from the Holloway family. Not long after, the horses came to a stop right in front of the gates. Alan slowly walked out of the carriage. Looking back at the carriage, he had a disgusting look on his face. He hated how plain the carriage was, just a plain blue color and the emblem of the Ashford family on both doors. Compared to the other two carriages that were well-decorated with flowers and a beautiful white and blue color. The carriages, which they had parted ways with since they were headed to the third town, was set to be on the road for another week or so.

Snapping him out of his thoughts was the lady from the carriage sobbing as she hugged two girls, which looked like twins. One was basically her if she was younger. Walking towards them was a boy who Alan had noticed watching him since he came down from the carriage. He had a very calm attitude. He thought before he started arguing with one of the girls with brown eyes... scratch that, Alan said as he heard their argument about a fight earlier they had earlier in the day. Soon they started moving back into the village as the third man picked up his bags and immediately went south into the village. Unfortunately for me, I was stuck with the woman and her kids since we were all heading the same route with the paper in my hand about the address I was going to. It was the 8th street north of the village at what seemed to be a butcher shop.

Alan walked up to the shop and knocked three times before long the door was opened and a pair of red eyes peeked out of the opening. Alan suddenly felt a powerful aura coming out from the being behind the door. He knew if he didn't act smart, he might lose his head before he could draw out his sword. For sure, that this was the aura of a D rank while he who was only an F- rank, he couldn't withstand the pressure. As he was about to scream, the eyes shifted to a boy standing far off in the distance, looking at them. He thought they wouldn't be noticed, but he was so easy to see even a half-blind man would notice his presence. Within a split second, he saw a shadow fly out towards the boy. As he saw this, he realized that if that shadow was his summon, then shouldn't his aura have reduced. Alan quickly came to the realization that the shadow could duplicate itself. THUD. Snapping him out of his thoughts was a sound of something falling. As he looked back, the boy was on the ground shivering. He sucked in a breath; this was for sure the power of a D rank. Alan could only imagine what that boy suffered before losing consciousness.

"Are you Dr. Alan?" a husky voice asked. "Y- yes, I am," looking back at the boy who was still on the ground. "Where's your identification card?" asked the man behind the door. Without hesitation, Alan reached for his pockets and brought out the card. The card was simple, containing his name, age, gender, and his role in the family. The background, both front and back, was the Winslow family emblem. A hand stretched out from the dark as if demanding handed over the card.

Alan quickly handed it over as he waited. Not long after, he heard a voice telling him to come in as the door swung open. Alan, who was about to go into the shop, made a glance towards the boy and noticed he was not there. Shocked but not bothered, he entered the shop. The shop was so dark and had a bad smell of rotten meat. Looking to his left, he saw stacks of meat that had gone bad, and to his right was a passage leading to a room separated from the shop by a thin fabric. Behind this cloth was a light like that of a candle, with pieces of this light escaping past the thin cloth, illuminating parts of the shop, giving it an eerie feeling.

"Why are you standing there?" Alan heard the same voice that asked for his ID. "Come in here." Gulping down a mouthful of saliva as he took a step towards the cloth, every step felt like he was walking towards his own death. As he walked past the counter, something caught his eyes. Behind the counter was a decaying body of a man who looked over 40, infested with maggots as some dropped from his mouth down to the ground. They almost immediately started crawling back to his body. The body was in a pool of some liquid which looked like blood mixed with bodily fluids and defecation, which had melted and turned liquid. Alan held the urge to vomit; no, that was an understatement. He was sure if he was to get a second look, he might actually vomit out his organs.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

As he finally made it to the entrance of the room, he could no longer wait to get this meeting started and be out of here. Pulling aside the makeshift curtain, he stepped into the room. The room was simple with just a rounded table in the middle, a single candle on top of the table, and two seats opposite each other. The figure of a skinny man with long black hair that reached his shoulders and pale white skin and abyss-like eyes, so black and empty he could not see the reflection of the flickering flame of the candle.

"Have you sit? Let's start," Alan, who hastily surveyed the room in search of any traps, seeing nothing in the room but a dog that was asleep on the floor beside the man. "W-wait," feeling uneasy, he looked back at the dog. Alan was sure that wasn't any ordinary dog; he wasn't sure what it was actually, but he was sure the dog was at least F+. Turning white, he looked back at the man whose eyes still showed no emotion nor did his face have any reaction to the bad stench in the air. Sitting down, Alan, who stole another glance at the dog or creature, who was still asleep, clearing his throat, decided to start the meeting.

"The plan is simple; we attack at night to make it seem like a dungeon break, since there's a dungeon a few miles away from the villa—"

"Won't it seem suspicious?" cutting Alan off, the man whose face was still emotionless said. Alan also thought the plan was simple, and anyone could easily figure it out.

"I mean, let's think about it; no dungeon break has ever been recorded, at least not on the 7th compartment, because there are only two ways a dungeon break occurs. The first way is when a monster of higher rank than that of the dungeon is spawned, then the dungeon is forced into a break just to get rid of that monster. This way isn't very common and has only been recorded twice, both of which were D+ dungeons. The second way was if someone was to kill the dungeon boss without clearing the dungeon itself, leading to dungeon letting out the monsters that weren't killed before closing up for good."

Alan sat down for some minutes thinking what to do. The Head never told him how he was to go about it; the only thing he told was to work with this man right in front of him to complete the mission. Coming up with an idea, he finally looked back and remembered the man in front never told him his name.

"Grim..."

"Huh? Did he read my thoughts?" Alan wondered, but not wanting to seem surprised, he decided to tell Grim the plan.

"Here's the plan; we have one week to complete this mission. Why one week? Because the Ashford family camp was currently heading to the third town in the 7th compartment, which was a week's journey, if not more, giving them time to decide on how to go about the plan. Ummm...." Grim looked at him then looked at his side before speaking, "why don't we capture some monsters from the dungeon, feed them some xiy stones, unleash them on the village?"

"Is this man in front of me stupid? Dungeon breakouts and on the week an unknown man comes to the village from the 5th compartment arrives a dungeon break magically happens making and clears the village. That's like giving himself out as the culprit, Yes the assemblage wouldn't mind the death of some useless creatures on the last compartment he might be pardoned. Even if he was. He wasn't sure what the Winslow family would do to him for bringing shame to them and as a royal guard of a branch head. He might never see his wife and children ever again; that was for sure. The branch head would probably sell his children off into slavery while his beloved wife would become nothing but a mere play thing for the head then passed down to his beast of a son."

Looking back at the dog, Alan thought of something: what happened to the kid who fell down? With his eyes still devoid of any emotion, "I used my shadow walker to show him an illusion I call a 'thousand eyes.' Each 'eye' has ziy to condensed and thinned out into a sharp-like needle that will hit the nervous systems of any creature it touches. It will basically paralyze my victim, showing him nothing but eyes. It's a weak skill of my pact. It might not do much damage to an F rank and above, but for his little mind, it was more than enough. I initially thought of killing him there, but I reconsidered. Wouldn't it be more fun to watch him spiral into despair when he sees his family die a shameful and miserable death?"

That statement sent shivers down Alan's spine. He looked back at Grim with a cold face and asked, "why? Why do you want him to go through such a miserable fate if he will end up dying too?" Grim looked back at him before scratching his chin. He then remembered something; "yes, that boy had ziy."

"Ziy!!??" He had seen the boy earlier; he didn't notice any hint of ziy on him, and he was sure because ziy was like a virus on the human body. It takes one with high physical strength to use or control xiy. But the boy he saw looked like he would die from a simple punch by an O+ rank child of the same age at the academy. Not only that, cutting him from his thought was Grim, who had a serious look on his face as he sat up, leaned forward towards the table; now his void-like eyes could be seen well. "I was sure I had killed him. That was never my plan, but I used 5% of my pressure

I did not know that would kill him," Alan: "Kill him?" Gulping down a mouthful of saliva. Grim: "I could feel his heart beat stop, but before I could put on more pressure to confirm if he was truly dead, I felt an eye with the aura of an A+ rank staring back at me." Alan: "A+ rank?! There are only 6 registered A+ ranks on the ship. Four of which are leaders of the four prestigious families, and the other two are the guild heads who control all privately owned guilds on the ship, no matter the compartment, and the unknown government trump card who the government has been pumping their resources into for years. For them to find out there might be another A+ rank on the ship, that would shake the system to its core."

Alan looked back at Grim and asked, "Are you saying the boy was an A+ rank potential?" Grim: "Of course not. I'm saying I don't know what it was, but for sure there was something that saved that boy. We might have to kill him. If not, if the assemblage finds out we left a threat like that alive, we might have to pay with our own heads." Alan, sitting up while setting his black hair in place, looked at Grim and said, "Here's the plan: we will kill the dungeon boss in the O rank dungeon. This will cause a dungeon break, but you might have to use your shadow walker to put the creatures of the dungeon in an illusion. I'll set up a barrier between the village and the dungeon, so no monster will go past the village into the surrounding forest. That will only make the job harder. I'll leave the boy to you; make sure you find his location and aim for there when the time comes."

"And what about you?" Grim asked. "I'll be the one to kill the dungeon boss. Remember, make sure the casualties are more of men; women and children should be left alive if possible." Grim: "How do you expect me to do that?" Alan: "I don't know, use your shadow walker or something. I don't care how it's done; we must complete this mission in a week's time." Grim, looking forward, sighed and nodded. Alan: "Good, now I'll get some sleep." Grim: "There's a room on the second floor; it is furnished. I believe it belonged to the old man." Alan, slightly taking a glance back at the curtain as he remembered the lifeless corpse of the old man which had been turned into a feast by the maggots before walking towards the stairs. Alan: "Remember, we start tomorrow."