The young man in yellow blocked Remedy's path.
"We'll pay you here. I hope you don't mind?"
Remedy looked up, as if he hadn't fully grasped the situation.
"If that's what you want. It's ten percent of the gold coins. You should get 180 gold coins in total, so that makes..."
He hadn't even finished his sentence before the youth began to grumble.
"What? Ten percent? That's unfair!"
"The commission was clearly stated on my flyer," Remedy replied calmly.
"Oh yeah? I didn't see anything." He turned to his sidekicks. "Did you guys see anything?"
"Nope, didn't see a thing," the one in red added.
"Me neither," the blue one Chimed in.
The two others played along perfectly.
Remedy observed them for a moment, then stated in a cold, flat voice:
"That is your problem. It has nothing to do with me."
The youths felt a sudden chill, but they possessed the overconfidence of those who had just become stronger.
In this world, leveling up didn't grant stat points to distribute. It was a direct, raw upgrade of body and mind.
A true evolution.
In just a few minutes, their bodies and minds had already traveled a third of the way toward matching the capabilities of humanity's greatest athletic elites. Strength, speed, endurance... even cognitive processing.
"We just told you we didn't see anything. What part of that don't you get? And what are you gonna do if we refuse to pay you?" the red one snapped.
"I wouldn't recommend doing that," Remedy elided.
"What? You wouldn't recommend it? You think the Guild is going to step in?" the yellow one sneered.
"I think two coins should be enough for him," the red one cut in.
"But hey, you can always refuse to take them, you know?" the yellow one added.
Sparks of electricity crackled around his hand.
They were rookies who had barely set foot in the Players' world, yet they were already eager to bully someone they perceived as weaker.
But what they didn't know was that they were picking on the wrong person.
In Remedy's dictionary, the word 'negotiation' was very hard to find.
He sighed.
"Are you certain you can handle the weight of your words?" he asked.
His tone was so calm that no one could have guessed what he was preparing.
Before the yellow one could answer, Remedy locked eyes with him.
A visceral, paralyzing fear flooded the youth.
These three didn't know what it meant to face real monsters. They were ignorant of that primal terror that freezes your blood, that inner voice screaming that death is right in front of you.
They didn't know it yet.
But Remedy knew it all too well.
And for someone like him, simply flipping the switch to engage seriously in a fight was enough to make his gaze terrifying enough to break normal humans.
For a fraction of a second, the yellow one's body froze.
Then, he leaped backward out of pure instinct.
Too late.
Remedy had already drawn both daggers. In a crossing slash, he ripped through the youth's chest.
The amusement vanished from the faces of the other two as their eyes registered the scene: their friend mid-air, a thread of blood on his lips, before receiving a brutal kick that sent him flying backward.
They had clearly seen their friend get slashed.
But their brains hadn't fully processed it yet.
It only truly sunk in when Remedy's foot exploded against their comrade's abdomen.
Before they could react, a blinding pain tore through their own chests.
The daggers. Remedy had thrown them at the exact moment he delivered the kick. They had sunk into their torsos with surgical precision.
He gripped the hilts still buried in their flesh. His eyes had already calculated the depth based on the exposed blades. He pulled them out slightly, just enough to control the depth, then sliced downward from their chests to the top of their thighs.
An expert like Remedy could prepare an attack without a novice ever noticing it. And his experience allowed him to execute this sequence at a speed that even their newly acquired strength could not counter.
Raw power was good.
But combat experience and technical mastery couldn't be bought.
And that was something they didn't have yet.
Remedy pulled out his phone. The voice recording had been running since he had pressed the button earlier.
This kind of fraud was a common currency in this business. And he had prepared for it.
He tied them up and hauled them outside.
***
In front of the field guards, he played the recording.
It was his shield against complications. Even if it was self-defense, excessive use of force could land him in trouble.
The guard looked down at the three boys. They couldn't meet his gaze.
The injuries weren't deep enough to threaten their lives, but they weren't superficial either.
The math was simple: subtracting Remedy's share, the Guild's commission, and medical fees from their earnings, they would be left with at least two gold coins.
Just enough to walk away with a painful wake-up call and a tiny profit.
The matter was closed.
Remedy took his share—eighteen gold coins. He pulled a hooded cloak from his bag and threw it over his shoulders.
Snow was falling into the gathering dusk. Remedy breathed out, a cloud of mist escaping his lips.
It was freezing.
Then, he slipped away, as silently as he had arrived.
***
Night time.
Inside the small, warm house of his aunt.
Around the worn wooden table, Remedy shared dinner with his Aunt Flora, her husband Victor, and their daughter Sora.
"So... it's in a week, isn't it? How are you feeling?" Flora asked, setting down her spoon.
Remedy was still chewing. He swallowed a bit too quickly and replied with a slight smile.
"Very well, Aunt. Really. I am ready."
He squared his shoulders slightly, as if to back up his words.
Flora sighed softly, unconvinced. But she knew she couldn't stop him.
"Don't put too much pressure on yourself. The most important thing is to come back in one piece."
Victor, still buried in his phone, added in a detached tone:
"Yeah. Coming back whole is already a victory."
He finally looked up.
"By the way, I sent you a bank transfer. Ten thousand credits. Buy yourself some good gear and crush everyone. Heh-Heh-Heh."
(1 Gold Coin = 100 credits)
A frank—and slightly too creepy—grin lit up his face.
Remedy's chest tightened.
He knew their financial situation all too well. The difficult end-of-the-month stretches. The silent sacrifices. Ten thousand credits was a massive sum, likely the fruit of long, hard savings.
"No... But..." he started, hesitating.
"There is no 'but.' The exam is dangerous. You are not going there without preparation. Otherwise, no exam for you," Flora cut him off before he could finish.
The boss had spoken. Who could argue with her?
She turned to her husband, her eyebrows furrowed.
"And you! What do you mean 'crush everyone'? You think that's funny?"
She grabbed him by the ear.
"Ow, ow! Okay, okay! I was just trying to lighten the mood!" Victor protested, laughing.
"Hmph."
"If you want, I can help you spend it. Ten thousand credits is a heavy burden to carry alone," Sora chimed in with a mischievous grin.
Remedy cracked a smile and patted her head lightly.
"Keep dreaming, little witch."
"Hey!" she protested, mock offended.
A light laughter echoed around the table.
Remedy looked down at his bowl.
I will come back.
Not just for himself.
For them.
His new family.
***
Meanwhile, outside in the pitch-black night, above their house, a rift opened.
It wasn't a dimensional rift.
It was like a corruption of reality, as if an error—an entity—was inviting itself in without permission.
Then, an eye—vertical, almost reptilian—emerged from the purple and black energy of the rift.
Its pupil was of a blackness so dense and deep that it reflected nothing.
It turned toward Remedy's home.
[Target detected... Identification... Confirmed. New Seed found.]
End of Chapter 2