In the quiet clearing, Tyler stood over Gary's corpse. He stared at the still form, a strange mixture of exhaustion and disorientation washing over him. "Huh," he murmured, a low breath escaping his lips. "I… killed someone."

  Two system messages appeared:

  Achievement Unlocked: Third Boss Monster Kill: +20 STR

  Achievement Unlocked: Kill The White Fang: +30 DEF

  Tyler's stats panel appeared:

  SPECIES: HumanNAME: Tyler EvansRANK: CLVL: 67CLASS: CraftsmanHP: 314/314 MP: 252/252STR: 277 AGI: 270DEF: 330 STM: 267STATUS: HealthySkills: Armour Craft Lv2, Weapon Craft Lv2, Weapon Mastery, Alchemy, Accessory Craft, Acid Blood, ChamberEquipped Skills: Rush

  His defense had increased significantly. He looked back at Gary's corpse, noticing the absence of the usual "Extract" prompt. He recalled seeing the prompt once before, on a dead hunter he'd encountered randomly. His gaze shifted to the White Fang. A large text box hovered above the massive serpent's remains.

  Tyler walked towards the White Fang, each step echoing in the stillness of the forest. As he walked, he noticed the crimson wolves' bodies; their hides removed, scattered across the battlefield. As he moved closer, a faint, almost unnoticeable reddish light emanated from their remains before they disintegrated into dust, carried away by the wind. He reached the serpent and muttered, barely audible, "Extract."

  The White Fang glowed with a blue light. Then, its hide vanished, leaving behind a flayed, skinless carcass.

  Tyler examined the serpent's head, noting that even the fangs were gone. He accessed his inventory, scrolling through the numerous hide items filling almost every slot. A scream echoed through the forest, shattering the silence.

  Meanwhile, from the source of the scream, Steven saw Grone running towards him at incredible speed. He glanced over his shoulder, realizing Grone was gaining ground. He turned fully, extending his hand. Just as Grone launched his *Piercing* skill, preparing to strike, a black carriage materialized in front of Grone, abruptly halting his advance. The momentum carried Grone forward, his face colliding painfully with the carriage.

  Steven, breathing heavily, resumed his flight. *Damn it,* he thought, *that used up all my mana. I have to get away. I have to get away from this place. I have to escape. I have to tell Father what happened. He has to know. And they'll pay. They'll pay for killing my brother.*

  The trees blurred past as Steven ran, but then he heard the unmistakable sound of metal scraping against metal. He turned, just in time to see Grone's invisible blade of wind hurtling towards him. It was too late.

  Steven instinctively tried to activate *Quick Step*, but his mana was depleted. He lifted his hands in a futile attempt at defense. Grone's blade of wind sliced through his hands, then severed his throat, instantly killing him. His headless body slumped to the ground, his head lying a few inches away.

  Grone approached Steven's corpse, his gaze briefly lingering on the severed head before sheathing his sword. He turned and walked back towards Tyler, but paused, his attention drawn to the black carriage. He examined the large wheels and the empty space where horses would normally be harnessed. Opening the door, he found the interior equally bare except for a bench crafted from polished wood, cushioned with leather and cotton.

  He closed the door, lost in thought. "*To think he could summon something as large as this…*" he mused. "*Can Tyler summon things as large as this too? His ability is really strange. Not new, but very similar to Tyler's. It seems he can summon various objects out of nowhere. But if I understand Tyler's ability correctly, he said he keeps those objects somewhere… invisible… and carries them around. Something like that. But that guy… Gary's younger brother… I don't think he had what Tyler has. Anyways, there are lots of abilities out there similar to this one.*"

  Grone circled the carriage, continuing his walk back to Tyler. But as he did, he saw Tyler approaching him, walking with his usual gait, yet something felt different. The way he moved was the same, but as he drew closer, his aura shifted, becoming unsettlingly strange.

  Tyler stopped before Grone, his expression unchanged, almost emotionless and unreadable. "Hey," he said, "I guess we're done here. It's time to go back, right?"

  Grone looked at Tyler, then at the black carriage that had inexplicably appeared in the middle of the forest. "Yeah," Grone replied, "it's time to go back."

  Tyler tilted his head, his gaze fixed on the carriage. "How did that get there?"

  Grone sighed. "Well, turns out Gary's little brother had an ability to summon objects out of nowhere. Just like earlier, he was summoning random things to distract me. That's why it took so long **to defeat him**. Not to mention that guy was there, the one you said was posing as A-rank." Grone turned to face the carriage. "When I was about to catch him, he summoned this whole thing. I think it drained his mana. Not many with similar abilities can summon something this big. It takes a lot of mana, and I think the bigger the object, the more mana it consumes."

  "So, what happened next? Did it manage to get away?" Tyler asked.

  Grone turned to Tyler. "No, I managed to… kill him."

  Tyler nodded. "Okay, let's go then."

  Grone was surprised by Tyler's calm response. He'd expected Tyler's first kill to have a more significant psychological impact, given his perceived fragility. Grone also noted Tyler's detached reference to Steven as "it," not "he," but decided to ignore it for now. "Yes, let's go," he said.

  They walked around the carriage, continuing on their way. As they passed Steven's body, Tyler's expression remained unchanged, further confusing Grone. Grone coughed lightly, almost clearing his throat. Tyler stopped. "Wait a minute."

  "What?" Grone asked.

  Tyler returned to Steven's body and crouched down. "What if it has some money?"

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "What? What do you mean?" Grone asked, surprised by Tyler's sudden interest in looting the corpse.

  Tyler reached into Steven's pockets, pulling out seven gold coins and four silver coins. He examined them. "That's going to be useful, right?"

  "Yes, it is," Grone replied, still somewhat taken aback by Tyler's pragmatic approach to the situation.

  The coins shimmered blue before vanishing into Tyler's inventory. "All right," Tyler said, "let's go."

  Tyler started walking, Grone beside him. Grone looked at Tyler. "Tyler, I really want to ask you something."

  Tyler looked at Grone. "What is it?"

  Grone noticed the blood on Tyler's forehead and the damage to his armor—rips and tears likely from Gary's attack. "When you called Steven 'it' earlier… you meant it because he was a corpse, right?"

  Tyler stopped. "What? What do you mean?"

  "Well," Grone said carefully, "I can't believe I'm about to ask this, but… in your own world, have you ever killed anyone before?"

  "No," Tyler said, his voice grim. "This was my first time."

  "Oh," Grone said, surprised. "It's just that… I was taken aback by the way you acted. It's almost like you've—"

  Tyler interrupted. "Well, it's because they were monsters, right?"

  "Monsters?" Grone questioned.

  "Yeah," Tyler said. "I mean, it's what Gary said. I had to fight them, like I was fighting monsters."

  Grone thought for a moment. *Gary never really said that. Tyler said something similar before killing the other man* He spoke aloud, "Tyler, the people were killed. They were very bad people. I understand why you might compare them to monsters, but these were people, not monsters."

  "No, I know that," Tyler said, his voice strained. "It's just… it's just that I had to fight them like they were monsters. That was the only way I was going to kill them. I mean, I just killed people, and it had to happen, right? If I hadn't killed them, they would have killed you. I couldn't watch you die. Lisa and Heather… what would they do if you died? I… I don't know what to do. I couldn't let them do that. I mean, you told me I was probably going to witness a murder or get into a circumstance where I'd have to take someone's life, but I just agreed and became a hunter anyway. But the fact that I killed people, real people, not monsters… I took human life. I just…"

  Tyler's voice trembled, and Grone, noticing this, gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Tyler's face snapped up, his eyes locking onto Grone's.

  "It's okay," Grone said softly. "I can't tell you it's okay to take human life, but these people you killed… they were very bad people, and they were never going to change. These people, unlike you, took human life as nothing. You killed people who were already killers. People who had killed before. And you didn't do it all in vain. You saved me, Tyler. And I'd really like to thank you for that. So thank you for saving my life. Because now I can head back home to my wife and child and see them again." Grone offered a genuine smile.

  Tyler looked up at Grone, his eyes welling with unshed tears. He didn't cry.

  Meanwhile, in Hector's shop, Hector had been open for an hour. He, already in his crafting gear—a black apron over his usual black shirt and brown pants—went to the counter, pouring himself a cup of water from a barrel. He looked at Emily. "Has anyone come?"

  Emily shook her head. "No, no one has come, sir."

  "Alright," Hector said, returning to the back room. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to crafting. Oh, and make sure your attitude appeals to the customers, alright? Try being as friendly as possible."

  "Alright," Emily replied. "Thanks for the advice."

  Emily couldn't help but think about Tyler and how he might react to her changed appearance. She wore a long-sleeved blue dress, having taken a long bath—something she hadn't done in ages—to look more appealing to customers, but especially to Tyler. She then berated herself for overthinking. *This blue dress appealed to him more, right? I mean, the last time I saw him, he was also wearing blue. Was that his favorite color? Should I have not worn this dress? Wait, what am I thinking? It's almost as if I'm trying to make myself get noticed by him. This is so stupid.*

  She adjusted her hair, letting her long black tresses fall down her back, concealing the scar on her forehead. She'd chosen a long-sleeved dress, as she always did, to hide the other scars marring her body—scars she desperately wanted to keep hidden.

  A customer entered—a tall, slim man clad in pleated armor, a large sword strapped to his back.

  Emily quickly greeted him, a smile brightening her face. "Good morning. Welcome to Hector's Crafting Store. How may I help you?"

  The man's eyes narrowed slightly as he took her in. "Oh, I'm looking for armor," he said, surveying the shop's displays.

  "Oh, yes, of course," Emily replied. "We have all different kinds of armor, sir. We have ones made from leather, steel, and—"

  The man interrupted. "What is that?" He pointed to a shield hanging on the wall behind Emily, above the counter.

  "Ah, this, sir," Emily said, reaching for the shield. As she unhooked it, its weight surprised her. It dragged on her hands as it fell to the floor with a loud clang.

  "Are you all right?" the man asked.

  Emily laughed, a little embarrassed by her clumsiness.

  The shield’s front was adorned with slightly bent, upward-pointing spikes, gleaming in the light. Emily groaned softly, carefully lifting the shield by its edges to avoid the sharp points. She placed it on the counter, taking a breath. "Ahem, this is what we call an offense shield. It's good for both defense and offense. Believe it or not, it's very durable, while also being very… um… light as well."

  The man raised an eyebrow. "Light as well? It didn't seem light to me."

  "That's probably because I'm not as strong as you, sir," Emily said. "You look very strong. I'm sure you could lift it easily if you wanted to."

  The compliment seemed to please the man. "Ahem, of course," he said, easily turning the shield over so the spikes pointed downwards. He grasped the handles on the back and lifted it effortlessly. "Wow, it really is light."

  "You see? I told you so," Emily said with a smile.

  The man's expression shifted. "But I'm E-rank plus. How come your so… weak?"

  Emily scratched her cheek nervously. "Um… I just am… I guess."

  The man's face hardened. He slowly unsheathed the sword on his back. Emily's eyes widened, her heart pounding. "Um, sir, what are you doing?"

  The sword was fully drawn. He then swung the sword, bringing the edge down sharply onto the shield's spikes with a loud *ting*.

  Sparks erupted from the point of impact, a shower of tiny incandescent flecks showering the counter as the sword bit into the shield's spikes. Emily yelped, a sharp, high-pitched sound that cut through the quiet of the shop. She stumbled backward, her hands flying up to her chest as if to ward off a blow, her eyes wide with a terror that seemed disproportionate to the event. Her face paled, and a visible tremor ran through her slender frame. The overreaction was palpable, leaving the man momentarily speechless.

  He cleared his throat, a touch of awkwardness in his voice. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you there. Anyways, this thing really *is* durable, huh? Lady?" He waited, but Emily remained frozen, her gaze darting nervously around the shop.

  Hector emerged from the back room, his brow furrowed with concern. "Emily, what was that?" His voice held a sharp edge, laced with the authority of an employer.

  Emily's head snapped up, her eyes wide and a little wild. "Oh, um… he was just checking its durability. That's… that's all," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

  Hector turned his attention to the customer, his expression softening into a practiced merchant's smile. "How are you, good sir? Are you looking to purchase that?"

  The man, seemingly unfazed by the brief display of near-panic, resumed his appraisal of the shield. He ran a finger along the intricate circular carvings near the handles, his gaze thoughtful. "Hmm, yeah, I want to purchase this one. It's really unique. "I've seen other offensive shields, but this one… it looks quite good." He tapped a finger against the intricate circles. "This is your brand, I take it?"

  "Oh, no," Hector said.

  "Oh?" The man raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

  "Well, this is my assistant's brand," Hector explained. "He's the one who helped craft the shield you're holding."

  "Well, then this assistant of yours is pretty good," the man commented, impressed. "How much is this worth?"

  Hector stated the price with a practiced air of confidence. "Eleven gold."

  The man's face registered surprise, his lips parting slightly. "What? Eleven gold? Isn't that a bit too much?" His tone was less a question and more an expression of disbelief.

  "Well, it is eleven gold, sir," Hector stated, his tone unwavering.

  The man replied, "Well, I admit, it's probably because I'm an E-rank, but… can you lessen the price for me?"

  Hector stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I can drop it to ten and a half. How about that? Ten gold and five silver."

  The man considered this. "What about ten gold and two silver? That's all I have right now." *I have exactly eleven gold. Does he really expect me to just take out all the money I have? I have to negotiate this. I did about four quests just to get this kind of money, and they weren't easy. Anyways, I'm about to get into D-Rank.*

  Hector cut through the man's internal monologue. "Well, alright."

  The man sighed in relief. "Good." He reached into his pocket, selecting coins as he peered inside.

  *He definitely has more money than he's letting on,* Hector thought. *He's literally picking through his pocket to select the amount he wants to give me, but he obviously has more. Anyways, I still have a lot of profit from this, and so does Tyler.*

  The man produced ten gold coins and two silver coins. Hector accepted the payment. "Right, sir, you can have the shield."

  "All right, great," the man said. "I'll come back to buy a weapon next time."

  "I'll be glad if you do," Hector replied. "Have a great hunt."

  "Right," the man said, exiting the shop. Hector turned his attention to Emily.

  Hector smiled, a genuine expression of satisfaction. "Great. That was our first customer, and he just bought us a lot of money."

  Emily mumbled, "Oh, um, yeah. I'm sorry."

  Hector waved a dismissive hand. "Well, don't worry about it. Just try to do better next time. You'll get used to it. We're literally selling weapons and armor to hunters here. So expect some people to be a bit aggressive. But don't worry, they won't lay a hand on you. Just try to be nice and understanding. And if there's any trouble, you can call me, alright?"

  "Okay," Emily replied. "I'll call you, sir."

  Hector handed her the money. Emily placed it in a drawer behind the counter. "I'll be in the back," Hector said. "If you need me, you'll have to scream loud and clear, okay? Because I'll be crafting. Someone wants me to make armor for them again."

  "Alright, I'll make sure to do that," Emily said.

  "Okay," Hector said, disappearing back into the workshop.

  Emily let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her. *Why did I do that? Why did I react like that? I mean, I'm not with him anymore. I have to forget about him, about all these things that happened to me.* A shadow seemed to pass over her, a fleeting moment of despair. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Right," she murmured, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. "I have to try to live a new life now, a better one. I was given a second chance, and I have to try my best to do it."

  "Sir Tyler got me out of trouble," she murmured to herself. "He helped me have this life. I don't want him to come back and just find out that I was doing a very bad job. I don't want to let him down. That's right. I just have to put on a big smile and sell as many things as I can." A small, hesitant smile finally touched her lips. "Alright. Let's wait."