Lancer found Davi in the middle of an argument with a group of brutish—err, "headstrong"—gentlemen. One of them, a towering man with a face like an angry bulldog, was jabbing a finger at Davi's chest and loudly demanding compensation for him stepping on his merchandise. "Watch where you're going, kid!" the thug growled.
Lancer approached the group, a warm smile plastered on his face. "Apologies for my idiot friend's behavior," he said, his tone polite but somehow disarming. "He's not the brightest, you see. If you could just find it in your hearts to forgive him, I'd be grateful."
Davi started to protest. "Hey! I'm not—"
The thug interrupted him. "Forgiveness doesn't come cheap, pal. We've been inconvenienced, and there's gotta be compensation for that."
Still smiling, Lancer nodded understandingly. "Of course, I completely agree." He reached into his pouch and fished out two gold coins, which he handed to the thug.
The man's expression shifted from anger to astonishment as he held the coins. For a brief moment, he seemed speechless. Lancer raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem? I thought this would be enough."
The thug's face quickly morphed back into a grin—though now it mirrored Lancer's unsettlingly warm demeanor. "Oh, no problem at all. Pleasure doing business with you." He pocketed the coins and signaled his companions to let Davi go.
As they walked away, Davi clung to Lancer's arm, showering him with exaggerated praises. "Wow, you're like a saint or something! Spending so much on someone like me? What did I do to deserve this angelic generosity?"
"Yeah, yeah, enough already," Lancer grumbled, prying him off. "Seriously, I can't leave you alone for five minutes without you causing a scene."
"Well, maybe if you didn't drag me out in the first place—"
Lancer ignored him as they approached the guild. Walking through the double doors, they were greeted by a young woman sitting behind the desk. She smiled warmly. "Welcome. May I see your guild cards?"
Lancer and Davi both handed theirs over. The woman examined them, but her gaze lingered on Davi's for a moment longer than usual before handing them back. Lancer immediately understood why—Davi's card identified him as level 0 with no magical aptitude.
Lancer coughed, quickly explaining why they were there. "We're looking for someone. A man with a scar running from his eye to his chin."
The receptionist shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, but no one matching that description has been seen around here."
Lancer sighed. He had suspected as much. "What about Trojan? The bounty hunter group?"
"Their members mostly operate in the capital," the woman explained. "It's rare for them to come this far into the outskirts. If you're looking for them, you'd have better luck heading to the capital."
"I see. Thanks anyway."
As the receptionist went back to her paperwork, Lancer turned his attention to the bulletin board. The various quests on display were mostly for monster hunting and material gathering from the nearby dungeons.
"Dungeons, huh? Typical fantasy world stuff," Davi muttered, glancing over the board.
Lancer didn't respond. His mind was already racing with possibilities. Dungeons meant rare monsters, and rare monsters meant stronger abilities and valuable materials. Absorbing them could be a massive boost.
He finally turned to Davi. "Let's go. We're coming back here soon. I've got this place marked."
As they left the bustling streets of the town, Lancer noticed a group of familiar faces trailing them at a distance. His eyes narrowed. It was the same thugs from earlier. He sighed, already guessing their intentions.
"They've seen the coins, haven't they?" Davi muttered, glancing nervously over his shoulder.
"Seems like it," Lancer replied casually. "Stay close. This won't take long."
The thugs quickened their pace, and within moments, they blocked the path ahead. Their leader, a gruff man with a crooked nose, stepped forward, grinning menacingly.
"Well, well," he drawled. "Seems like you've got yourself a money problem, kid. We'd be happy to help... for a little more compensation."
Typhon's voice echoed in Lancer's mind. Let me out. I'll deal with them properly this time.
Lancer suppressed a sigh. Not necessary.
He took a step forward, his expression calm, almost friendly. "I thought we already settled this," he said. "You were compensated. Let us pass, and we'll forget this little misunderstanding."
The thug's grin widened as he pulled out a jagged knife, its blade glowing faintly with a purple aura. "I think we deserve a bit more for our troubles."
Davi instinctively moved behind Lancer. Typhon, now insistent, growled in his mind. These fools are wasting our time.
"Relax," Lancer said aloud, more to Typhon than the thugs. "I've got this."
The thug lunged, slashing the knife toward Lancer's chest. With a single breath, Lancer unleashed Poison Breath. A green mist spread through the air, enveloping the thugs. One by one, they dropped to the ground, their limbs twitching uncontrollably as the paralyzing venom took effect.
Davi peeked out from behind Lancer, his expression a mix of awe and unease. "That was... effective."
Lancer turned to leave, brushing his hands off. "Let's go before—"
A sudden blur of movement caught his eye. One of the thugs, seemingly unaffected, appeared from the shadows and lunged at him. Before Lancer could react, a quiet but sharp click sounded behind him.
The thug froze mid-attack, his body locking up as if invisible chains bound him. He crumpled to the ground without so much as a scratch.
Lancer turned to see Davi lowering his gun, his usual lazy demeanor replaced with a momentary seriousness. The weapon's barrel gleamed faintly, though no smoke or signs of firing were visible.
Davi shrugged as Lancer stared at him. "What? I'm not useless, you know."
Lancer's curiosity about the gun and Davi's magic deepened, but he decided not to press the matter now. Instead, he said, "Let's go before the venom wears off."
Davi nodded, but as they started to leave, he suddenly stopped and crouched by one of the paralyzed thugs, rummaging through his pockets.
"What are you doing?" Lancer asked, exasperated.
Davi held up a pouch of coins, grinning. "It's not stealing if they're thieves, right?"
Lancer pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Let's just go."
When Davi protested about riding Typhon again, Lancer said "That's fine. We'll use Speed of Lightning. Just hold on."
Davi groaned in defeat as he grabbed Lancer's arm. In an instant, they vanished, leaving behind the twitching thugs.