In a dark room, so dark that it took Zed some time to adjust his eyes to barely saw the simple shadows, the shadows seemed to shift and dance upon the walls.
The room might be vast, Zed couldn't tell in such the murky gloom.
At the center of the room stood a set of wooden table and chairs, with intricate carvings that appeared to hail from the Orient. A sliver of light cascaded down from above, illuminating the exquisite furniture.
The table alone spoke volumes about the place's significance. In the aftermath of the world's collapse, one would be hard-pressed to find even a single intact person, let alone a complete set of furniture.
Upon the table, there were two pairs of hands, a pack of cigarettes, three half-eaten pieces of toast, and two feet.
"Hi there, bruh," spoke the owner of the hands on the left side of the table.
"The meeting is about to start. If you don't want the Earth type Awakener to make you a pair of prosthetic legs that can only take five steps, remove your legs from the table!"
In response, the causal trembling legs on the right side of the table paused for a moment before reluctantly lifting even higher, then slowly lowering back to the ground.
Thankfully, the table remained upright.
*Clap. Clap. Clap.*
The man seated directly across from the hands began to applaud before lighting a cigarette.
The faint glow of the flame revealed a ghastly grin on his Demon masked face, as tendrils of white smoke escaped from the various slits in the mask.
After a theatrical pause that seemed to last an eternity, the "Demon" finally began to speak.
"This is the third time we've held this meeting. I am the host, and the 'Winery' acts as a neutral party. All mission evaluations are conducted by the 'Winery,' while I retain the right to accept or reject them. Additionally, I have priority in assigning tasks."
Receiving a nod of confirmation from the organizer, the Demon placed a document on the table and continued, "Alright, let's begin—"
"Excuse me, I'd like to interrupt," interjected the elderly man who had leaded Zed into the room. His voice was raspy, the kind that couldn't be forgotten after just one listen.
The people at the table turned their faces, waiting for the interruption to continue.
The old man patted Zed's shoulder and went on:
"We have a last-minute guest who would like to attend today's meeting. Is that alright?"
With that, Zed felt an irresistible force push him forward two steps, bringing him into a position where everyone could at least see his feet.
There was a long silence on the other side of the table. Everyone seemed to look back at the Demon, the designated host for the day.
The Demon took another drag from his cigarette, and with a cloud of smoke, nodded his head up and down. "Since he's brought by the 'Winery,' he must be important, right? Please, have a seat."
Without any regard for the precious furniture, the Demon kicked a chair from the opposite side of the table, sending it skidding to the perfect distance.
The chair shook for several seconds, the room echoing with the subtle sounds of wood splintering.
Everyone in the room held their breath, save for the man on the right, who let out a mocking laugh.
Surely, they could all hear the anger and resentment in the Demon's voice as he spat the word "important" through gritted teeth.
Unfazed by the hostile display, Zed straightened his clothes and was about to reach for the chair when he was stopped by the man beside him.
"Thank you for your generosity," the man said.
"Well...Since our guest did not make a reservation, it would be best if he just stands here. He won't merely be listening; he will propose a quest, and he will pay some in advance. All missions will be reviewed by us."
Zed raised an eyebrow behind his mask, giving the man beside him a curious glance, his mind swirling with questions.
"How did he know I have the ability to pay in advance?" Zed thought, but didn't say his question out loud.
The vibe around the table seemed to lighten slightly, but still remained tense for a few more moments.
"Anyway," the Demon continued:
"as long as you're sure this person knows where he is, that's all."
"Thank you once again for your kindness," the old man replied, bowing and stepping back slightly.
The interrupted Demon, having lost interest in his cigarette, discarded it and spoke impatiently:
"Okay, now that we have four people here, who will present their quest first?"
The two people at either end of the table exchanged glances, and the man on the right let out a sigh.
Laughing, he said:
"I was invited in advance according to the rules, unlike that uninvited guest over there. I'm only here to listen."
The Demon's body almost showed that the expression under his mask must be soured further.
It was at this moment that the figure on the left grabbed a piece of toast and stuffed it under his mask, taking a loud, crunchy bite.
The awkward vibe was filled with the crisp sound of chewing, grating on everyone's nerves. He decided it was time to get to the point, pulling out a file as he began to speak.
"I have a request here," he said, holding up the document.
"It's a B2-ranked mission."
Thanks god.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, grateful he wasn't asking for another piece of toast.
The man known as "Demon" opened the file, scrutinizing the contents by the dim overhead light. He spent so long doing so that he had time to light up a second cigarette before saying anything.
"What's the deal? Aren't you going to read it out loud?" asked the man on the right, eager for information. Zed noticed, under the flickering light, that he was wearing a white fox mask.
Demon didn't answer, instead sighing and turning the file face-down on the table.
The person on his left helped him move it, seemingly concerned that the burning ember of his cigarette might set the papers alight.
It was autumn after all.
Demon took drag after drag from his cigarette, eventually staring at the burning tip for a whole minute. Finally, he spoke, or more accurately, asked a question.
"Is 'Winery' certain this is a B2-ranked mission?"
His question was directed at the old man, but before he could respond, the man in the fox mask, unable to contain his curiosity, eagerly chimed in.
"What's the problem? Is there something wrong with the mission?"
Demon nodded, his voice devoid of emotion.
"It's not exactly a secret, I can share it with you all. It's about the recent string of shadow thefts. The quest is to find clues about the culprit. I can provide some basic leads, but for subsequent tasks, I'll need a more detailed assessment and confirmation of the mission rank."
Upon hearing the words 'shadow theft,' Zed tensed, but before he could speak, the old man's voice cut in, answering Demon's query with a simple statement.
"All ranks are guaranteed. If there's any objection, you can request a secondary review after the meeting."
"There should be no problem then."
Demon leaned back, putted his hands behind his head, appearing quite relaxed.
"I'll take this one."
This time, it was his foot that appeared on the table.
The air seems lightened. Everyone knew that if a single quest was completed during the meeting, each person would gain a point on 'Winery's' leaderboard.
Securing a mission slot during these gatherings was the real challenge.
One could choose not to present a mission or accept a request during the gathering, but they had to prove their worth by accumulating enough points to attend higher-level meetings. To prevent point farming, Winery had a special department in charge of overseeing these checks.
To the people in this underworld, The Winery was indeed a heavy stone.
As the meeting progressed smoothly, Demon briefly discussed his approach, while the man on his left expressed his Thankful.
Just as the meeting was about to conclude, Zed spoke up.
"I request to repeat and share his quest," he said, pointing to the man who had proposed the 'shadow theft' mission. His voice was steady as he added:
"I can prepay a portion of the reward now."
The "Fox" laughed, seemingly amused by Zed's youthful voice, which sounded like that of a 20-year-old. Demon stopped him, leaning forward with interest.
"That's acceptable. But what are you going to pay me with?"
Zed tapped his own mask, his voice remaining calm and collected as he replied:
"Information on an A-ranked spore."