Against his better judgement, Thren found himself in the back of a steam jeep with a group of mercenaries heading out of Gunlag.
The hissing of the steam engine seemed to compete with the sound of bickering among the group. The driver, a middle aged man, with well groomed beard, the leader of the group. He was quite an amicable person, but Thren felt like something was off about him.
Aside from him, there were two girls, twins to be specific, one with black hair and the other with multicolored hair which reminded Thren of idols.
And then there was the man sitting between them, with each one holding on to his bulging muscles. He had that air of nobility and an effortless charming, charismatic aura around him. Even with a beard which Thren was of the opinion that it ruined peoples appearance, he looked good, as a matter of fact, it accentuated his appearance.
His eyes moved to a shifty looking man in the front seat, who was grinning widely as he stared at the twins from the mirror. This one gave him a really creepy feeling, as a matter of fact, the entire group didn't feel right to him. But there was little he could do, except if he wanted to go into an aberrant zone alone.
Of course that was his first choice, but there was a little hiccup.
He had no transport.
He cast a quick glance at the last member of the group sitting next to him, her eyes focused on her phone as she scrolled while loudly chewing gum.
As if feeling his gaze, she turned slightly.
Thren smiled, although his scarf didn't allow her to see it, and leaned back on the chair as the car rocked. He noticed the shifty looking man staring at him from the rearview mirror. The man poked his tongue out and got back to his conversation.
"I'm telling you it's not possible, it's just propaganda..."
Thren zoned out at that point, subconsciously touching his storage ring, if anything went wrong, he at least was prepared. After all before leaving, he went to see an old friend of his father.
***
Randall the jack of all trades was a business man, or maybe not, Thren couldn't quite tell.
Since coming to know him, Thren had learned to not question the man. He was the sort of person who no one truly knew what they did, but it seemed like they did everything.
No matter what you needed as long as you went to Randall, you can find it. For the right price of course, and that price could as well be your soul.
It always bugged Thren how his father had got involved with such a greedy person, after all his father was the sort of person who believed in honesty and nobility.
Although, considering they were being hunted, someone like him would be useful.
But still.
Thren didn't have any problems with him though, heck he would say he found the man interesting. Not until the arena, not until he betrayed them.
Thren could barely maintain his voice, while holding his hands, preventing himself from attacking the man during their conversation, as he still needed the man's help, not to mention he had future plans for him.
He recalled as Randall's eyes widened when Thren slammed the revolver onto the table. Then he licked his lips and carefully studied it, while subtly studying the hooded figure of Thren, obviously trying to determine if he was dangerous or not.
Before he could ask any questions, Thren went straight to the point, taking care to use as little words as possible and sound as different from usual as possible.
"I need this."
He slid a paper with supplies he'd need for the expedition to the aberrant zone across the table.
Randall studied him as he slowly reached for the paper. He glanced through it, occasionally throwing glances at Thren
"Even though this is a high quality revolver it won't be enough." He pushed the gun towards Thren.
"How much?"
Randall's eyes narrowed as he stared at Thren for a little longer than normal, before checking the list once more.
"Three hundred coins."
Thren's chair creaked as he almost lost his balance upon hearing the response.
Three hundred coins, in his entire life he hadn't seen pass a hundred coins before, not to mention three hundred.
Wait, three hundred, even with the revolver. That didn't sound right, Thren turned to face Randall.
"How much is the revolver worth?'
"Five to eight hundred coins."
Thren frowned, shouldn't that be enough.
Before he could ask, Randall explained.
"I can't take that revolver, it is too much trouble,"
Thren tilted his head in confusion, trouble?
"This is custom made for a noble by the best blacksmith in Gunlag. It's too much trouble for a mere shopkeeper like me to have."
Looking at the revolver Thren realized his mistake. No wonder Randall kept giving him those looks. Most likely the reason he hadn't straight up accused him of stealing was because he wasn't sure who he was.
After all he could be a noble or worst, a powerful mercenary. And that would just spell trouble.
Checking the storage ring, he realized he had at most a hundred and fifty coins left.
"What can I get with hundred."
"And I'll need a map."
Unfortunately the last updated map had been purchased by this mercenary group, and they needed an extra member, not to mention they had transport.
So here he was.
***
"What do you think Thren?" The multicolored hair twins voice drew him out of his reverie.
Thren blinked as he noticed everyone's attention was on him.
"What?"
"What would you do if you were the Zero ghost?"
Thren frowned for a second then his face lit up in realization.
Apparently zero ghost was the nickname his reanimated body had gotten, both out of fear and mockery.
Zero being what most humans were called, and a ghost since he got turned to a porcupine.
So yeah, Zero ghost.
But for most Mercenaries it was mostly out of mockery, after all the idea that a human flying, a thing even paragons couldn't do seemed impossible.
"Destroy Gunlag." Thren finally answered.
For a second, no one said anything, an awkward silence hung in the car.
Then the shifty looking man giggled, "Haha, I like this kid."
The driver finally looked at him from the rearview mirror, then he finally spoke.
"Why?"
Thren felt like the man was probing him, like he was testing him. After all everyone knew what humans have endured at the hands of alynds. Was there any other reason. So he answered truthfully.
"Revenge."
He could have said due to the fact that humans had suffered at the hands of alynds or something like that. But that would sound like he was sympathizing or taking one side, so instead he answered simply, revenge.
After all, it doesn't matter who was wrong or right in Revenge, as long as it hurts me I'd hurt you back.
He was prepared for another question but the man simply smiled and looked forward as tall buildings appeared in the horizon.
The shifty man turned to the pretty boy, "So why hasn't Gunlag been destroyed. I'm telling you it's just propaganda, or at most exaggeration."
"Or he's just scared." The blonde girl retorted.
The shifty looking man scoffed in response and turned away.
"As if a being like that would have anything to fear. I bet he could take over Tera if he wanted. It's just propaganda I tell you."
The pretty boy smiled but he did not respond, but that didn't stop the shifty looking man, he continued talking even if no one answered or seemed to pay attention.
Thren zoned out once more, his attention focused on the tall looking buildings or better called ruins in the distance. A remnant of the world before the fall.
A tier two aberrant zone.
The first step in his plans was in motion now, and this Mercenaries who were most likely planning to use him as cannon fodder were an inevitable part of it.
He glanced at the quest once more, the timer looming like a dead threat.
19days: 5hours: 34minutes: 27 seconds left.