The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows as the group trudged along the dirt road. The wagon creaked beneath them, the only sound besides the rhythmic clopping of the horses' hooves.
Mark broke the silence, holding up a handful of small cards. "Surprise," he said, a smug grin on his face. "Fake IDs. Courtesy of a friend."
Sam blinked, his brow furrowing. "And who the hell is this friend of yours?"
Mark's grin widened. "We'll meet him soon enough."
Silence fell over the group again, but it was soon broken by the collective groan of realization. They were riding a rickety wagon, surrounded by a vast, empty landscape.
Sam slumped back, his arms crossed. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? We're guarding this thing?"
Mark leaned back, trying to keep the grin off his face. "My friend usually lives in the city, but he's on vacation in his home village. We're broke, so we're earning our way there."
Alan looked over at the wagon owner, a burly man with a scowl permanently etched on his face. "Guarding this little wagon? Really? We're way above this."
The wagon owner shot Alan a look, his eyes narrowing. "You can insult me all you want, but keep your mouth shut about my wagon."
Sam's eyes gleamed with mischief. "So we can insult you, then?"
Alan chuckled. "This guy's hiring us to protect him from bandits, but he looks more like a bandit himself."
The wagon owner's expression darkened, his grip tightening on the reins.
Sara leaned in, a sly smile on her face. "Think he might try to rob us?"
The man's scowl deepened, his knuckles white against the reins.
Masha chimed in, her tone teasing. "What could he do? He's just a big, fat guy."
The group burst into laughter, even Mark struggling to keep a straight face.
The wagon owner forced a smile, but it was more a grimace than anything else.
Moments later, the group stood on the side of the road, the wagon shrinking in the distance.
Mark sighed, rubbing his temples. "You guys got me fired from my first job."
Sam shrugged. "That's on you. Why didn't you bring any money?"
Mark threw his hands up in frustration. "Because I'm entering the Shade Society after 220 fucking years. Do you think I have pocket change lying around?"
Masha raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you're that old? How's that possible?"
Mark's tone grew somber. "If you live in the Shade Society, you can live for over a thousand years."
Sam whistled low. "That's insane."
Mark nodded, his expression darkening. "The whole place is insane. I used to love it there, but that bastard Fedrick ruined everything."
[Royal Palace]
Luis, Fedrick's right-hand man, stood before his master, his voice laced with concern. "My lord, should we not take more serious measures to find the intruders? Their leader is our number one threat."
Fedrick sat on his throne, his eyes cold and calculating. "There's no need to worry, Luis. Even if they manage to enter, they won't be able to hide for long. They don't intend to. Samuel Carter…" He leaned forward, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "Don't you dare disappoint me."