Following Scar's directions, Robert quickly got his meal. He noticed Scar, seemingly part of the upper ranks, was eating at the same table as the Treasure Hoarder boss from the day before. Robert thought it over and decided not to bother them; it was better to have some sense of discretion.
He found a random corner and began shoveling the food into his mouth. The ingredients were fresh. The dish was stir-fried cabbage, cooked with animal fat. While not gourmet, it was palatable. The rice wasn't old or stale either; it was fragrant and clearly freshly cooked. He had to admit, this fare was at least safer than the sketchy group-buy meals from his past life.
After eating, Robert glanced at Scar, who was still chatting, then got up and followed the others to deposit his bowl in a large tub—it seemed someone was specifically assigned to washing up. After that, he returned alone to his stone chamber.
There were no facilities for bathing, and privacy was nonexistent. Robert simply lay down. He had meant to think about his future, but perhaps due to the day's exhausting events, he drifted into a hazy sleep.
The next morning, Robert woke up feeling refreshed. He glanced over and saw the clear signs that his money box had been tampered with.
'Heh. Must have been disappointed to find it empty.'
He smirked to himself, then let his expression shift to one of panic. "My money! My Mora is gone!" he cried out.
"Dammit, what's all the noise so early!"
"Shut up,or I'll rip your mouth off!"
"So damn loud!"
His three roommates, who Robert hadn't even noticed returning, were now all awakened by his shouts. Facing their collective ire, Robert glared back. "Was it you? Did you take my money?"
If this were before his level-up, he would still have made a scene to let everyone know he was broke, but he would have done it in a more timid, hesitant way. Now, at level 10, the boost in strength gave him some backbone.
"Bullshit! You're the one who left your box out in the open without even locking it! Who the hell else can you blame?" A lanky Treasure Hoarder rolled out of his bedroll and launched into a tirade laced with expletives. His anger wasn't because Robert had accused him falsely, but because he had been on duty last night and, upon returning, had casually opened Robert's box only to find he was too late. For a Treasure Hoarder, failing to steal was a loss in itself.
"So it was you!" Robert's eyes reddened, feigning blind rage. He swung his fist directly at the man's face.
Thwack!
The man clearly hadn't expected Robert to attack so suddenly. The punch landed solidly. Robert didn't know exactly what Life Energy Level 10 represented, but he knew his strength was beyond ordinary. The panel's assessment said 'Strong as an ox,' and the man looked like he'd been hit by one. A single, critical punch sent him to the floor.
"You've got some nerve, kid, starting a fight!" The other two Treasure Hoarders looked wary, flanking Robert and already drawing their daggers. "You're new here. Apologize, pay each of us a hundred Mora, and we'll let this slide."
Robert glanced at them. Neither looked particularly strong; they were probably just rank-and-file members.
"You think you can bully me? Bring it on!" he snarled.
Before the man on the left could react, Robert closed the distance. A straight punch shot out towards his chest, moving faster than the eye could follow. A dull thud echoed as the man flew backward like a ragdoll, slammed into the stone wall, dropped his dagger, coughed up a mouthful of blood, and lost consciousness.
The Treasure Hoarder on the right gasped in shock, slashing wildly with his knife. Robert sidestepped easily, avoiding the blade, and followed with a whip-like kick to the man's midsection. The man felt an immense force hit him, his organs seeming to shudder. He flew sideways for several meters, tumbled across the ground, and couldn't get up.
The fight was over in moments.
Robert stood still, calmly retracting his leg. His breathing was even, as if he'd just swatted a couple of flies. He looked down at his fists, a slight smile touching his lips. 'My strength really has improved.'
In his previous life, being surrounded by two men with knives, the best he could have hoped for was to trade injuries—and that would have been something to boast about for months. The most likely outcome would have been him getting stabbed to death. The gap between having a weapon and not having one was vast. But now, the increase in his Life Energy Level had allowed him to dispatch three Treasure Hoarders with ease.
'Time for looting.'
Even though none of the three were dead, that didn't stop him from searching them. After a thorough pat-down, Robert stared blankly at the scattered few dozen Mora in his hand. He'd known ordinary Treasure Hoarders were poor, but not this poor. So the people at the gambling den yesterday really were the elite of this troupe? Scar had indeed introduced him to some 'important brothers'.
He glanced at the three men on the floor, scoffed, pocketed the Mora, and left the chamber.
Fighting, no matter where you were, meant breaking the rules. Even within the Treasure Hoarders, internal conflict was surely discouraged. So, he needed to report first. Strike first and file the complaint. Getting his version of events in first was always the right move.
Scar had mentioned where he stayed yesterday, so Robert went to find him. The early morning camp was quiet. Being inside a cave, the outside world had little effect. The only difference was that few people were about at this hour, except for the patrols. Perhaps because Scar had been seen with him yesterday, no one stopped or questioned Robert.
Arriving at Scar's quarters, he didn't even need to call out before Scar emerged, dark circles under his eyes.
"Huh? Blade? You're here early." Scar didn't seem surprised Robert had come, only that he was there so soon.
Robert immediately put on a wronged expression. "Scar, my money was stolen."
Scar looked amused. "Do you know who took it?" He'd watched Robert take that unlocked money box back to his room and knew it wouldn't last the night. He hadn't warned Robert precisely so the kid would come to him the next day. A junior who didn't need money was harder to control.
Robert's aggrieved look faltered, replaced by anger. "It had to be those three guys in my room! Not only did they steal from me, but they tried to jump me this morning!"
"They attacked you? Are you hurt?" Scar raised an eyebrow, though the effect was somewhat comical with his dark circles. If Robert was injured, as his senior, it wouldn't be out of line to demand some compensation for medical expenses from the perpetrators. Scar was already thinking about how to squeeze those three for Mora.
Robert puffed out his chest proudly. "Those losers were no match for me. I knocked them all out."
Scar's train of thought derailed instantly. "You did?" He'd found Robert passed out in the wild and subconsciously assumed he wasn't much of a fighter. It never occurred to him that Robert could take down three Treasure Hoarders.
"What, you don't believe me, Scar? I was just half-starved before. If I'd had a full belly, you might not have been able to just 'pick me up' so easily." He needed a plausible reason for his improved physique, and 'not eating enough' was a good one.
Scar gave him a skeptical look. "Alright, fine. Do you have any proof they stole your money?"
Robert's triumphant expression froze. "No... but we were the only ones in the room..."
Scar waved a hand, cutting him off. "Don't bother without proof. I'll smooth over the fight. Since you can handle yourself, you'll start work today. I'll get you a different assignment." He'd originally planned to put Robert on excavation duty—the most basic and grueling work in the troupe. But if Robert could fight, he could be used for something else.
"Come with me," Scar said, heading deeper into the cavern.