His gaze once again fell upon the window of the "Underground Tavern," partially buried beneath the earth.

"Tucker" hoped to catch a glimpse of the person he was waiting for today.

That individual was already an hour late.

Yet, Tucker's eyes scoured the entire length of the dimly lit street, but he saw no sign of the person he was waiting for.

Not a single soul could be seen on the street outside.

"Could it be… that he's fled with the money?" Tucker thought, rubbing his brow.

"After all, that guy's an assassin, and when we last faced danger on an adventure, his speed in retreating was remarkably swift!"

However, after a moment's reflection, Tucker dismissed this possibility.

After all, this was the *Ashen Lands*, and it was currently the "Ashen Night."

The *Ramor Tower Citadel* was the safest and most protective tower domain within a hundred miles, offering the greatest sanctuary.

Unless that assassin was willing to huddle in the tunnels with goblins for warmth, it would be impossible for him to escape before the next "Ashen Day" arrived.

"Most likely, something delayed him."

Though the goods the assassin was supposed to bring were of vital importance to Tucker, the key to unlocking the system's true potential, his rational mind gradually put his anxious thoughts at ease.

His gaze swept across the interior of the tavern.

Apart from a few adventurers who had missed the "Ashen Date" window and were now drowning their sorrows in alcohol, there were also a handful of local drunks, thoroughly inebriated.

No one disturbed him.

Tucker shifted his posture, then… continued waiting.

**About three months ago.**

Tucker had gotten drunk at a company team-building event.

When he woke up, he found himself in a strange world—one of steam and clamor, where arcane powers were abundant, and death and eldritch gods lurked in the shadows.

Most people would understand waking up with a sore backside after a team-building hangover.

But for Tucker, waking up and discovering he had been transported to a bizarre, dangerous world? That was something entirely different.

As the memories slowly settled in, Tucker gradually came to accept his new reality—that he had crossed over into an extraordinary world, becoming an apprentice wizard named "Tucker."

He was sixteen again.

A brand-new life awaited him.

In fact, someday, he might even get to admire the sleep posture of a senior sister at 4 a.m.

Everything seemed to be falling into place for a better future.

With grand ambitions, Tucker was ready to make his mark and embrace his new life.

But—

After three days of hunger, missing nine meals, Tucker had come to a harsh realization.

In this world, he was nothing more than an orphan, his parents victims of the *Ashen Tide*, left only with the small underground cabin they had once inhabited.

Though he was a level 5 *Apprentice Wizard*, in the *Ramor Tower Citadel*, such low-level extraordinary beings were a dime a dozen.

Fortunately, before Tucker could starve, his benefit as a transmigrator kicked in.

The **Steady Development System**.

This was Tucker's golden finger.

By anchoring himself to a specific area, he could gather experience, unique resources, and other valuable assets, ensuring a slow yet steady development.

With the system's security, Tucker's worries melted away.

Over the next few months, using the system's abilities, Tucker steadily advanced his growth.

In just three months, his level had risen from 5 to 9.

His extraordinary skills had also been significantly enhanced.

Although Tucker had gained some power, he knew that the areas he had anchored were mere "ordinary zones"—accessible to anyone. The resources he obtained were nothing exceptional.

What he truly needed was to anchor a "rare zone," rich in energy, but rife with danger, one where he could obtain "rare resources" that could spark a true transformation.

And today, at the Underground Tavern, Tucker was waiting for just such an opportunity.

*Bang!*

The tavern door was abruptly thrown open.

A wave of bone-chilling cold rushed in as a figure swiftly slipped through the door, closing it just as quickly behind them.

The newcomer appeared to be seventeen or eighteen years old, with short blue hair and wearing silver-white leather armor. A linen cloak draped over them, the hilt of a short sword barely visible beneath the cloak.

Their handsome features were slightly distorted from the cold, pale from the freezing air.

"Damn this weather… it's freezing," the young assassin muttered, huddling and shivering, before addressing the bartender.

"Give me a mug of Varogi's Firewater."

Varogi's Firewater was a favorite among adventurers in the Ashen Lands.

Cheap, strong, and perfect for warding off the cold!

Moments later, a warm mug of the drink was placed in front of the young assassin. 

After downing half the mug in one gulp, some color returned to the assassin's face.

"If you hadn't shown up, I would have thought you had fled with the money," Tucker's calm voice broke through the air.

"You're already an hour and a half late, Carlos."

The assassin, Carlos—whose extraordinary sequence was that of an *Assassin*—turned and looked at Tucker. 

Despite Tucker's youth and his sequence being naturally weak against assassins, Carlos did not look down on him.

During their last adventure, Tucker had performed like a true backbone of the team.

Quick, precise, ruthless, and steady!

If not for Tucker's timely interventions, their return journey would have cost them more lives.

More importantly, when danger struck, Tucker's speed in retreating had been just as swift as Carlos's. 

Damn, he was a wizard, not known for his speed!

Carlos had also heard rumors.

During the Ashen Days, Tucker had taken part in several adventures, emerging with impressive rewards. A few street gang members had even targeted him. 

The result? Those gangsters were found in the deep tunnels, their bodies so ravaged by rats that only the necromancers could identify them.

And Tucker? He remained unscathed.

"Don't be ridiculous. Why would I flee with your money?"

"If I dared take your money, you'd probably end up taking my life!"

Carlos gave a sheepish grin, though he wisely kept the last part to himself.

"When I was about to leave, my sister stopped me," Carlos said, shrugging. 

"You know how dangerous the place we went to last time was."

"And my sister's temper..." 

Carlos trailed off, making Tucker envious of the close relationship he seemed to share with his sister.

Carlos's sister was a perfect blend of talent and beauty, highly regarded by the *Ramor Tower Count of Sorcerers*. 

And, she was a sister who would go to great lengths for her brother!

The mug of Firewater was soon empty.

"Is everything ready?" Tucker lowered his voice.

"Yeah," Carlos nodded seriously.

"Are you sure you want to go there?"

"That place is one of the *Ramor Tower Citadel's* forbidden zones."

"One misstep, and being expelled is the least of it; your life might be on the line."

"You can choose not to go."

Tucker's response was calm, yet firm.

"Ha... you promised me, if you found something..." Carlos glanced around suspiciously.

Though the tavern's patrons seemed uninterested in their conversation, Carlos wisely kept his voice low.

"Let's go!"

Tucker stood, his eyes flickering toward a quiet corner of the tavern, then he made his way to the door.

Carlos followed closely behind.