Mr. Smith quaked in his loafers as he stared at the filthy alleyway. A set of ill fitting armor sat over his suit, buckler pulled too tight and puckering the fabric of the blazer. A pair of hunters leaned against one of the company SUVs, one smoking while the other played poker on his phone. His adam's apple wobbled in his thin throat, trapped as he tried to swallow. The alleyway was filthy, not from trash or litter, but from the dungeon within. Deep grooves cut into the concrete walls, stained with blood from monster and hunter like.
"This has to be a mistake." The man finally squeaked out, squeezing the borrowed weapon tight in his white knuckled fists. "I'm not a hunter! I can't be compelled to do dungeons!"
Oz stomped the remains of her cigarette under her boot. Instead of her tracksuit and boots, she wore the armor gifted by her ice elf friends. From her boots, to the gauntlets and the white furry cloak, she was the white ghost again. The soft soles of the boots absorbed every sound she made. The sway of the cloak made her appear to be floating over the filthy concrete until she stood before him.
"You will be coming with me as my personal packmule." Oz said with a smile, her eye glowing like a sparkling ruby from within the shadow of the hood. Mr Smith let out a horrid wheeze of a sound.
"I…I…I can't. I can't go past the gate." His voice quaked. Oz simply shrugged, "No matter. I can fix that."
From her side, she snapped out one of her latest purchases. After leaving the guild's headquarters, the woman wandered the hunter mall for much needed equipment. The sparkling butterfly knife practically danced as she snapped it open. With her thumb, she ran it over the sharp edge enough to allow blood to bead up. Then before Mr Smith could move, she flicked the beads of blood right at him. He cried out as the blood seeped immediately into his suit blazer.
"You crazy bitch! I don't want hepatitis!" he cried out, trying to scrub the red stain away without actually touching it.
"Marked with the blood of a hunter will let you pass, at least for a little while." She smiled sweetly. Hard to believe remembering that tidbit of information would come in use after the last few days.
She thought back to the streaks of blood that marked the Russians in the dungeon, allowing normal humans to pass through. If it leaked out to the public and became a well known fact, not only would it collapse the hunter economy it would also cause a backlash. Guilds would force hunters to bleed, and expose normal humans to the dangers of the depths. She couldn't have that.
He shivered as he stared at his stain, his eyes darting between her and behind where the SUV sat parked. "So I'll be safe right? Protected…" He squeaked out.
Oz shrugged as she flipped the blade shut, returning it to the fanny pack she had strapped to her chest. "As safe as I was when I worked for you." She replied sweetly.
"Now get a moving packmule." Oz grabbed the strap of the leather chest plate as she opened the door to the dungeon. She was far from gentle as she flung the crying man into the shadowy void awaiting them. The two awaiting hunters looked over at his cries.
"Problems Miss Kasper?"
"Nope, you two please help yourself." She threw a card from the pack to one of the men, a gift card offered by Orion.
"Order yourself a nice lunch. We should be back within the hour."
The card nearly fell to the ground as the large bulky man stared in shock, "An hour? To clear a D Ranked Dungeon?" He coughed out, nearly swallowing his cigar. "Alone?!"
Oz gave a mock salute before she walked into the void, closing the iron door behind herself.
It might be a stretch, clearing a low dungeon like this with only two floors in an hour would be her first challenge. She needed to get stronger. Not only for herself, but for the coming mission. Pulling the cowl up over her nose, she let it settle into place before looking to the cowering man on the ground.
"Come on you." She purred. The sparkling gem-like eye glowed as she looked at him over.
[Inspect]
[Traitorous Task Manager : Mr John Smith | Lv 1 | Human]
Oz almost felt bad for him, a lowly level one? She would have thought his years of bullying and harassment would give him some sort of experience. From the now stone wall she took one of the torches and tossed it over.
"Keep that."
He barely caught it in time, the flame shaking like a leaf in the wind as he stood. With the low level gear, he was little more than bait. This was her revenge. She wouldn't let any true harm come to the man, but she would allow herself a bit of pettiness. With the inventory she had no need for a pack mule, this was to watch him squirm.
"Whe…where are we?" He gasped, from the modern city they were now in a gothic castle. The walls are carved of stone with fluttering ruined tapestries. High sloping windows gave them a peek at the endless nightscape outside.
"One of the lower castle levels. There should be nothing very strong here. But keep up." Oz hummed. Mr Smith was far from willing to leave the protective barrier of the entrance. She actually had to grab him by the collar and drag him to follow. HIs screams of terror rang through the hallways. A sudden sound of footsteps caught his attention. Smith started to actually scream when from the hallway came his first face to face meeting of a living monster. Oz actually blinked as he cried and cried.
"You're that scared of lowly undead knights?" She had to shake her head. "Seriously? You had me run through hoards of hundreds for your precious, precious materials. Remember?"
"You petty bitch!" Smith yelled, enraged by his pride and his terror.