Seth woke to the sound of muffled whispers bleeding through the walls. Not words he could make sense of—just the constant hum of Draemhollow's streets beyond the tavern. They blended with the faint thrum of the building itself, that strange heartbeat he'd noticed the night before.
His eyes opened to the weak sunlight creeping through the shutters. For a moment, he lay still, listening, half-expecting the System to interrupt him with another mission. But nothing came.
No quests. No warnings.
The silence was worse than the constant commands.
Why isn't it saying anything? Seth pushed himself upright, rubbing his face. His body was sore from the last few days—running, fighting, surviving. But what really ached was the uncertainty. He wasn't in the forest anymore. He wasn't facing bandits or mercenaries. He was in the heart of a living nightmare disguised as a city, and the System was silent.
He almost jumped when the door opened.
B entered without ceremony, tall and calm as ever. His coat trailed faintly against the floorboards, his pale bone mask catching the dim light.
Seth tensed. He still hadn't decided whether to feel safer or more endangered with this man around.
The masked figure's voice was steady as always. "You may call me B."
Seth blinked. "That's… your name?"
"A name. Enough for you."
Seth frowned, but before he could press, B continued. "Understand this. I do not command you. I am no master of yours. I do not pull your strings. I guide where waters run too dark. That is all."
The words should have been reassuring. Instead, Seth felt a cold weight settle in his chest. If he's not commanding me… then I'm the one responsible for whether I sink or swim.
B studied him for a moment, then crossed the room with measured steps. "You've seen the city only through a keyhole. That will not do."
Seth narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
B's head tilted slightly, the mask turning toward him. "A man who walks blind here dies blind. You must learn the streets, the breath, the rhythm of Draemhollow. Go. See it. Learn."
Seth's gut twisted. The idea of wandering into that warped city on his own was not appealing. "Is that… safe?"
"No."
"Then why—"
"Because nothing here is. Better you learn that early."
Seth wanted to argue, but B's tone left no cracks. And, infuriatingly, he was right. If he hid in this tavern forever, he'd be no closer to surviving.
Conveniently, B continued, "I have business of my own today. Our paths split here. But…" He paused, as though weighing his words. "Bring something back with you. Anything. Preferably food."
Seth blinked. "Food? You mean—just buy something?"
"A test of practicality." B's voice lowered. "This city demands more than breath and strength. Let's see if you can manage even this."
With that, he moved toward the door. Seth half-raised his hand, as if to stop him, but no words came. The door shut with a heavy click, leaving Seth alone with the heartbeat-thrum of the walls.
He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. 'Great. I don't even know how money works here.'
Memory tugged at him—yesterday, when B had paid the innkeeper. Not coins of gold or silver, but a jagged shard of black crystal, pulsing faintly like a dying ember. The innkeeper had accepted it with wide eyes.
Seth pulled up his System, almost afraid to see what it would say.
The HUD flickered into view, and sure enough, a new option glowed faintly at the edge of his vision:
[Conversion Function: EXP → Shadow Crystals.]
[Warning: Conversion is costly. Shadow Crystals are unstable. Use sparingly.]
Seth's jaw tightened. So this is their money… and it eats my EXP.
He stared at the numbers. His EXP pool wasn't exactly overflowing. Those points meant survival—skills, stat boosts, weapons. To burn them just for the chance to blend in… it felt wrong.
But then he thought of B's words. Better you learn early.
With a resigned breath, Seth tapped the option.
[Convert 10 EXP → 1 Shadow Crystal?]
He hesitated only a second, then confirmed.
Pain flickered through his skull—brief, sharp, like someone scratching against the inside of his mind. When it faded, a jagged shard of black crystal lay in his palm, pulsing faintly. It felt warm. Alive.
Seth stared at it. His first real currency in this world. His stomach sank as he realized just how much it had cost him.
I hope this "test" is worth it.
The tavern door shut behind him, and Seth was swallowed by the city.
This time, without B at his side, every step felt like it carried weight. The air pressed heavier. The stares burned sharper. He wasn't shielded by the masked man's aura of authority anymore—he was just another exposed piece of prey walking into a predator's den.
The streets, in daylight, were no less bizarre. If anything, they were worse.
Crooked stalls leaned against each other, merchants shouting their wares with guttural voices that rattled in Seth's ears. One sold knives that dripped with a liquid resembling molten glass. Another offered cages where shadows clawed at the bars like rabid animals.
Across the road, a woman in crimson robes tugged along a two-headed beast yoked to a cart. Its skin shimmered like oil, and every few steps, one head hissed while the other coughed smoke.
Pack animals weren't horses but hulking lizard-like creatures with plated hides, their reins glowing faintly. Mercenaries swaggered past, armored in jagged steel or enchanted leather, weapons humming or vibrating as if eager for blood.
Seth hugged his arms to his chest and tried to move like he belonged. His heart hammered faster every time someone's gaze lingered on him.
He passed a stall that smelled faintly of roasted meat. His stomach twisted with hunger, reminding him how little he'd eaten in the chaos of the past days. His hand went instinctively to the jagged Shadow Crystal in his pocket.
Alright, time for the test.
He approached the vendor—a stocky man with eyes too wide and a grin too sharp. The cart sizzled with skewers of meat glistening in strange spices. Seth cleared his throat. "Uh… one."
The man's grin stretched wider. "One crystal."
Seth pulled the shard from his pocket, half-expecting the vendor to laugh at him for holding it wrong, or worse, accuse him of theft. Instead, the man snatched it from his hand, bit into it like testing the edge of a coin, and tossed a skewer into Seth's palm.
The meat was hot, smoky, dripping with juices that stained his fingers. The vendor didn't even wait for thanks before turning to yell at the next customer.
Seth stood there, stunned. That was it. No fight, no mistake, no trap. He'd done it.
He walked away quickly, clutching the skewer like a prize. Relief coursed through him, easing some of the tightness in his chest. I can function here… barely.
He ducked into a quieter corner of the market, leaning against a crooked wall. He bit into the skewer—chewy, rich, with a strange aftertaste like copper. It wasn't pleasant, but it was food.
For the first time since entering Draemhollow, he let himself breathe.
But the moment didn't last.
As he chewed, he noticed the whispers. Not the normal market chatter, but threads of voices that curled too close to his ears.
"…new face…"
"…doesn't belong…"
"…with him yesterday… alone now…"
Seth's eyes flicked around. People weren't staring openly, but he caught glances—cloaked figures lingering a beat too long, a hooded woman standing at the edge of the alley, a man pretending to haggle while keeping his gaze fixed on him.
His throat went dry. They're watching me.
The System chose that moment to flare into his vision, a cold blue overlay across his sight.
[Side Mission Triggered: You are being tracked.]
[Survive until you return to the inn.]
[Reward: +150 EXP.]
Seth froze, the skewer halfway to his mouth. His pulse thundered in his ears. Tracked? By who?
He forced himself to keep chewing, to look casual, but every bite turned to ash on his tongue. His eyes darted from shadow to shadow. The cloaked figures weren't moving on. They were waiting.
The alley that had felt like a refuge now seemed like a cage.
He dropped the last bit of meat, his hands clammy.
This isn't just a city. It's a hunting ground. And I'm the prey.