Three silhouettes moved down the dark path in silence. No beasts remained—Ethan had slaughtered them on the way. He couldn't gain EXP from low-level kills anymore. He had 100 EXP now; 600 more stood between him and level 8. To break fully into the Awakened tier he'd need level 10. He was ready to push into a Tier 2 dungeon.
"Halt—hide!" Gloria hissed, and the trio melted into a shadowed alcove. The corridor's darkness swallowed them; only someone strong could spot them now. Moments later Corrie and three tanks stumbled down the path, badly injured.
Corrie breathed like he'd escaped a pit; dread lined his face. His comrades were worse—gashes marred their armor.
"Who'd have thought we'd run into three mutant shadow wraiths?" Corrie said, glancing at the men.
"Nonsense. You abandoned us—that's why two of our men died. If you'd used your rock skill to protect us—" a tanker snapped.
Corrie's temper flared. "The shadow wraiths turn intangible. My rock ability couldn't stop them!"
"You'll hear about this from our masters," the tanker snarled.
Corrie's jaw tightened. "I saved your worthless lives! Without me you'd all be dead!" He stepped forward, voice raw with fury. The tanker pushed back, hate in his eyes. In a dungeon, the strong prey on the weak—if they didn't kill the boss, none of them would leave alive.
A new voice cut through the arguing from the dark: "I'm afraid you don't need to ask. The boss is dead, and you are not leaving here alive."
Every head snapped toward the voice. "Who—show yourself and we'll show mercy!" Corrie barked.
A soft chuckle answered. "Aha. Who's in danger now, little man? You've got no right to bargain."
A shadow moved like smoke and suddenly a cold blade kissed Corrie's throat. He hadn't seen the attacker. The men froze. Ethan stood there.
"I have already been bought," Ethan said simply. "I value my reputation."
Corrie's face drained. "Ethan?" dread spilled into his voice.
"Shhh," Ethan whispered. "Don't make noise. I killed the boss, but his minions? That's a different story."
Corrie's eyes widened. He's not even Awakened, Corrie thought. Yet here he was—blade at his throat. "I'll pay two million. I won't tell the Brotherhood."
Ethan snorted. "Are you deaf? Do you think I'm stupid?" He stepped closer. "Pay everything in your account and I might give you a quick death."
"Won't the Brotherhood trace the transaction?" a tanker stammered.
"They've got bigger problems than tracing a dead Awakened in a dungeon," Ethan said, calm as ice. "You should be grateful I'm sparing you."
"We'll keep quiet. Promise," they all sputtered, scrambling to agree.
"Good. Go." Ethan let them slip away, heads low.
Corrie raged. "You cowards! If you leave, my father will—"
"Then let him ask," the tanker spat as they fled. "We'll say you ran."
Corrie's face crumpled with helpless fury. "Wait—send five million!"
Ethan clicked his tongue. "No need. He's paid enough." Out of the shadows Gloria stepped forward.
"It's you," Corrie snarled. "You haven't died yet?"
"Of course I didn't," Gloria said. "I hired protection." She nodded to Ethan. "Now die."
Before Gloria could reach him, Ethan slid a blade across Corrie's throat. Blood sprayed like a fountain.
"I thought I told you I wanted him," Gloria said to Ethan afterward, angry.
"I've got my grudges," Ethan replied, cleaning his blade. "And who said you paid for the tanker's lives?" Gloria blinked. "You didn't—so I spared them for a fee."
"Asshole," she cursed. Freddy sighed, relieved—Ethan hadn't lost whatever humanity he still had.
"Move. The portal resets in two minutes," Freddy urged. They bolted.
Outside, the dungeon's color lightened—less dangerous now. Ethan collected his share from the dungeon manager: a paltry 50k Ace Coins. Not much, but enough to start pulling his family out of the slums.
"Hey, Ethan!" Gloria called as she ran up to him.
"What, our deal's done. I don't want anyone to see you near me," Ethan said flatly.
"Why, do I look ugly?" she asked, affronted.
"You're fine. This guy just doesn't want suitors bothering you," Ethan replied.
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't like you," she shot back—then, after a beat, she added, "I want you to be my bodyguard for the next raid."
"No. I've things to do," Ethan answered, walking away.
"How dare you walk from me? Do you know who I am?" Gloria chased.
"You're the rich girl who almost died in the dungeon," Ethan said coolly.
"I'll pay two million," she said, still following.
"I'm sorry—decline," Ethan said.
After a round of banter, she finally relented. "Fine. Give me your contact. Maybe when you're free."
Ethan gave her his number without thought. Gloria smirked. Money bought many things.
"Bye for now. I'll call," she said.
"Don't," Ethan muttered. Freddy laughed. "Ethan, you did great today. You beat Corrie and James—and you even got that belle's number."
"It's business," Ethan said. "Nothing more."
"Time will tell," Freddy teased. Ethan almost decked him. Of all the girls in the world, Gloria would be the last he'd date—witty, spoiled, and dangerous in ways he didn't like.
They walked away into the night, a strange trio bound by the day's blood and the small, filthy bargains that kept them alive.