Chapter 9: Lockbox

“And this—” Raven gestured dramatically at the blood-stained ground, “—is where I died.” She crossed her arms, nodding to herself. “Thought it’d be a deeply horrifying experience. Turns out, I was right.”

Their client—the merchant who had hired them—stared at the ground, his face pale and slick with sweat. His fingers fidgeted anxiously with a small key dangling from a chain around his neck. “Was… was it really that bad?” he asked hesitantly.

“Oh, absolutely,” Raven replied, looming over him with a wicked grin. “It was pitch-black, freezing, and I felt like a thousand needles were stabbing me constantly. Like, all the time.”

“T-That sounds truly awful,” the merchant stammered. “I-I’m deeply sorry you had to experience such a thing on my account.”

“Oh, that’s not even half of it.” Raven leaned in even closer, reveling in his discomfort. She tapped her neck, where faint scars remained from the Remover’s claws. “See this? This is where it got me. We had to use a Reviving Stone to bring me back, you know. You do know how expensive those are, right?”

The merchant gulped, staring at the scarred punctures on her throat. His hands trembled as they clutched at his key. “I… Yes… I—” He swallowed hard. “I changed my mind. Let’s go back to the guild. I thought I’d feel fine coming back here, but I was wrong. Let’s—”

“Hey, hey, now.” Lucian emerged from the treeline, Hugh right behind him. The two of them were dragging something through the underbrush, the bulk of it just barely concealed by the foliage. “You’re the one who insisted on coming back here,” Lucian reminded him. “And don’t scare him, Raven.”

“I wasn’t!” Raven raised both hands innocently. “I was just educating him on what happened here.”

“What happened,” Lucian said, dragging his haul forward, “is that we took care of it.” With a heavy thud, he dumped the remains of the Remover at the merchant’s feet. The merchant’s breathing slowly steadied as he looked upon the charred, blackened shell before him. What was once the Remover’s lower half had shriveled up—its leathery skin wrinkled and sunken, its legs curled inward toward the waist like a dried-out husk. He blinked in horror. “W-Why is it rolled up like that?”

Lucian shrugged. “Who knows?”

“Dehydration, perhaps,” Hugh offered. He adjusted his monocle, studying the remains. “The Remover’s primary food source is blood, correct? After sustaining heavy injuries and losing significant amounts of it during our fight, it may not have had enough reserves to maintain its body.”

The merchant hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “Yes… yes, that does make sense.” Finally, his grip loosened on the small key, his hands moving to wring themselves together instead. “Sorry to put you through all this trouble,” he muttered. “It’s just, I had to be sure. When I requested for a Remover to be… well, removed, I needed to know the job was completely done before moving forward. You understand, right?”

The merchant chuckled nervously, shifting under the group’s expectant stares.

Lucian broke the silence. “It’s fine. You’re the client. Can’t call it a job well done until you’re satisfied.” He paused before adding, “But if you do want more proof, well… there’s still this.” He reached down and tossed a mangled wing at the merchant’s feet.

Their client visibly recoiled, grimacing as he took several hurried steps back. “No, that’s fine. I’m fine.” He swallowed hard, refusing to look at the severed limb. “I just needed to be absolutely sure I wouldn’t see that thing lurking around every time I pass the wreckage.”

Raven clapped a hand on his shoulder, flashing a confident grin. “Even if it did pop up again, you’ve got us!” She jabbed a thumb toward herself and winked. “We’ll protect you!”

Lucian leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Who exactly are you protecting? You couldn’t even protect yourself.”

Raven’s response was swift—a sharp elbow to his ribs. Lucian barely felt it.

“Shush,” she hissed under her breath. “I’m trying to make our client feel comfortable.”

* * *

Jeez, I forgot how gruesome this place was.

The group stood around the wreckage, watching as their client climbed inside the upturned carriage. From within, they could hear the sounds of rummaging—tumbles, knocks—but none of it distracted them from the lingering stench of blood and viscera surrounding them.

I’m surprised the client hasn’t thrown up at the sight of this. Suddenly, from the other side of the carriage, the unmistakable sound of retching reached Lucian’s ears. He sighed. Spoke too soon.

Circling around, he found Raven doubled over, Hugh rubbing her back supportively as she emptied her stomach onto the forest floor. Lucian folded his arms. “Why are you throwing up? We’ve already seen this place before.”

Raven wiped her mouth, glaring weakly at him. “Yeah, when I was drunk.” She took a shuddering breath. “I can’t handle this much blood unless it’s mine. Why do you think I fight using fire?” She opened her mouth to say more, then promptly retched again.

Lucian sighed, shaking his head. Dear lord, how and why did I end up partying with you?

“Um… a little help, please?” Their client’s voice called from inside the carriage. His head peeked out from the upturned wreckage, a slightly sickened look on his face as he warily glanced in Raven’s direction. “My hands are a little occupied,” he added.

“Go help,” Raven groaned, waving Hugh away weakly. “I’ll be fine… I’ll just go… over there.”

Hugh nodded and left her behind, joining Lucian to help the merchant down from the carriage. The man was lighter than expected, which made things easier—though the process would’ve gone a lot faster if he wasn’t so insistent on holding onto a small, silver box.

Lucian eyed it suspiciously. “What’s that?” He had been hoping their client was finally retrieving their compensation. But this tiny box didn’t look particularly promising.

“It’s the only thing I could salvage from inside,” the merchant muttered. Oh no. “I know there were other valuables hidden in the carriage’s secret compartments,” he continued. Oh? “But it looks like something—or someone—already got to them.” Oh. “But the most valuable thing…” the merchant tapped the lid of the box. “…is still here, thankfully.”

Lucian took a slow step forward, stretching out his hand. “Alright,” he said coldly. “Give it to me.”

The merchant stiffened. “P-Pardon?”

Lucian’s gaze remained firm. “You said it yourself—whatever was left in the carriage would be our compensation. Or something close to that, right?”

“Y-Yes, that’s right,” the merchant hesitated, his fingers tightening protectively around the small box.

Lucian had no such hesitation. He simply plucked it from the man’s grasp.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

[Acquired Silver Lockbox]

“Hey, Lucian…”

“Mr. Nyx…”

Both Raven and Hugh’s voices carried the unmistakable tone of protest.

Lucian cut them off immediately. “What? I’m just making sure he sticks to his word.” Without another glance in their direction—not to avoid their glares, of course—he turned his back to the group, focusing instead on the small silver box now in his possession.

[Inventory]

Silver Lockbox

- A box meant to protect keepsakes. Its cheap craftsmanship doesn’t mean it will

break easily.

Cheap craftsmanship? That’s a bummer. Lucian turned the silver box over in his hands, giving it a slight shake. A faint rattle came from inside. Doesn’t feel like there’s anything of real value in here. With a sigh, he turned back around. Their client was still staring at him, a mix of frustration and helplessness in his eyes. Can’t make things ugly… like Hugh said.

“Here.” Lucian handed the Silver Lockbox back. The merchant didn’t move at first, too stunned by the gesture to take it. Then, as if drawn by instinct, his feet shuffled closer.

“I-I don’t understand,” the merchant stammered. “I thought you wanted compensation.”

Yeah, but there’s nothing here to be compensated with. “What I wanted was for you to keep your word,” Lucian said. “I know for a fact that a merchant’s word carries weight in any situation. You offered compensation for the request, and once it was given, it was mine to do with as I pleased. By giving this back, you can honestly say you’re still a man of your word.”

The merchant hesitated before reaching out with a trembling hand, his eyes misting over. The moment his fingers clasped around the lockbox, tears started rolling down his cheeks. “You, you’re one of a kind,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion.

Then, to Lucian’s surprise, he took the key from around his neck and unlocked the box. Inside, nestled in dark velvet, was a small, silver heart-shaped pendant. “You have no idea how valuable this is,” the merchant said, his voice suddenly steadier. “And not just sentimentally.”

Say what now?

“This pendant holds a picture of my most precious…” The merchant trailed off as he picked up the locket and flipped it open. The party leaned in. Inside was a small, black-and-white photograph of a mansion.

The three of them exchanged perplexed looks.

The merchant, now lost in his own monologue, continued, seemingly talking more to himself than to them. “I have a property in Provera, close to the guild—land my family has owned for generations. My father’s great-great-grandfather’s wife knew it would become valuable one day, so she had the deed stored in the Bank of the Lands for safekeeping. Lo and behold, it’s now one of the hottest pieces of real estate in town! Without this photo, I wouldn’t have been able to claim the deed back.”

He turned to Lucian again, beaming, despite the tears still wet on his cheeks. “I would have told you about all this if you hadn’t returned the box. I’m honor-bound to do so.”

Lucian’s eye twitched. You couldn’t have told me this sooner?! But aloud, he simply said, “Please. It wouldn’t have made a difference. I always intended to return it from the start.” Can’t back out of this lie now—might as well double down.

“With this,” the merchant exclaimed, clutching the pendant to his chest, “I can rebuild my enterprise!” Then, without warning, he lunged at Lucian, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Thank you, sir! I will tell everyone about you and your great deeds!”

Lucian stood stiffly as the merchant squeezed him in gratitude. It’s something—not a mansion, but it’s something.

Finally, the merchant straightened up, composing himself. He tucked the lockbox away into his pouch, smoothed out his clothes, and cleared his throat. “I suppose there’s nothing left to do, then.” He nodded at them, his expression full of newfound confidence. “As the client of this unofficial request, I hereby declare myself satisfied with your services. Thank you!”

A notification popped up on Lucian’s interface.

[Quest Complete! Experience will now be distributed among your party members!]

[Level up! Choose two attributes to increase!]

Before deciding which attribute to increase, Lucian noticed something: his HP had been fully restored. He vaguely recalled Raven mentioning that happening at Level 3. Guess that means no more “1 HP Wonder” for me. The thought was almost bittersweet—until he remembered it also meant he was getting stronger.

Not a bad trade-off, he nodded to himself. Now, what should I choose? Strength and Resilience had served him well so far. No reason to stop now. He made his choice.

Blacksmith Lv. 3

HP: 20/20

Mana: 17/17

Attack Power 26

Magic Power 14

Defense 15

Magic Defense 15

Stamina 70

Strength 11

Resilience 13

Speed 6

Magic 7

Endurance 7

Great stats all around. Still need to find more Master Cores, though. These are solid, but they could be better. Lucian opened his [Equipment] tab. Aside from leveling up, gear was the only other way to boost his stats.

Equipment:

Head: None

Neck: None

Shoulders: None

Hands: None

Chest: Leather Armor: +2 Defense

Legs: None

Feet: None

Accessory 1: Master Shield

Accessory 2: None

Weapon: Basic Two-Handed Warhammer: +4 Attack Power

Lucian stared at the list. Yeah. These could definitely be better.

“Wow!” Raven cried out. “I’m only 20 EXP away from Level 4!”

Lucian and Hugh exchanged a glance. Then, as one, they turned to look at Raven. The Spellsword was happily allocating her stats in her [Menu], completely oblivious to their stares. Lucian leaned toward Hugh. “Did she just say she’s 20 EXP away from Level 4?” he whispered. “That means she’s Level 3, right?”

“I don’t understand, sir,” Hugh murmured, scratching his head. “I thought you said she’s been here for at least a year.”

“That’s what she told me.”

Lucian exhaled sharply and marched over to Raven. Her wide smile quickly vanished the moment she saw him approaching. “I thought you’d been here a year longer than me,” he said, arms crossed.

Raven blinked at him. “Yeah, I have.” Her tone was slow, patient—like an adult explaining something to a particularly dense child.

Lucian’s eye twitched. “Then riddle me this.” He inhaled, bracing himself for what was definitely going to be a rant. “I, who have been here for less than a month, just hit Level 3. You, who claim to have been here for a year, just said you’re 20 EXP away from Level 4. How is it that I’m already catching up to you?”

Raven stared at him for a long, hard moment. “That’s a horrible riddle,” she finally said.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, yes, I know!” Raven groaned, burying her face in her hands. “But how am I supposed to level up when no one wants to party with me?!”

Hugh stepped forward, frowning. “Why didn’t you just take smaller requests to get the ball rolling, at least? Mr. Nyx here said you’re quite the capable fighter.”

“Awww, thank you,” Raven cooed, jabbing Lucian’s arm with her finger.

Lucian shot her a flat look. “Back to the point, please.”

“Ugh, fine.” Raven sighed dramatically. “It’s just that… some things out there are way scarier than you’d think. Teams go out for easy quests, and then—” she snapped her fingers, “—suddenly, they’re just dead.”

Lucian and Hugh glanced at the carnage surrounding them. “Yeah, you got that right,” Lucian muttered under his breath.

“To think one creature caused all this,” Hugh added, voicing the exact thought in their heads. “Guess we can’t really judge you for that, Raven.”

Raven smirked. “Hey, what happened to the ‘Ms.’?”

Hugh took hold of Raven’s hand and looked her directly in the eyes. “But you no longer have to worry about that, Raven.”

Raven blinked. “Again, no honorifics.”

“You have us now,” Hugh continued, completely ignoring her comment. “With Mr. Nyx and his shield, I don’t think anything can wipe out our party.”

Lucian smirked. “Good thing, too.” He tilted his head toward the merchant, who was slowly inching toward them. “Looks like someone wants something from us.”

“Uh, yes. I do,” the merchant said hesitantly. “I found something else inside the carriage.”

A reward? Fitting compensation? Lucian managed to keep his curiosity in check, masking any excitement as he turned to the merchant. “Yeah? What is it?”

His restraint lasted exactly until he was presented with a clump of wet, gray fur—smeared with blood and other fluids he definitely didn’t want to identify. Lucian’s face twisted. “What is it?” he repeated, this time with an extra dose of disgust.

“It’s a clump of Vyrk fur,” the merchant explained. Seeing Lucian’s blank stare, he elaborated. “They’re creatures that live in small villages hidden in the hills. Picture giant, muscular bats—except without wings and with an extremely bad attitude.”

Lucian frowned. “Okay? And what were they doing inside your carriage?” He reached out, hesitant but curious, to examine the fur more closely.

“Probably fornicating.”

Lucian immediately yanked his hand back.

The merchant continued, completely unfazed. “They like doing that in random enclosed spaces.”

Lucian took a deep breath, visibly restraining his horror. “That is very unfortunate. I’m sorry your property got… sullied by them.”

“Oh, they’ll be the ones who are sorry.” The merchant’s tone darkened. “You see, besides being Raiders and Barbarians, they’re also looters. They probably took the rest of my belongings.”

Lucian’s eyes lit up. Oh, I like where this is going. “Say no more, good sir!” He clapped a hand over the merchant’s shoulder. “You can trust us to bring back your stolen goods!” And get me my well-deserved compensation.

Lucian grinned internally as he shook the merchant’s hand, already planning his next move. Behind him, Hugh and Raven stretched, rolling their shoulders in preparation.