"Are you guys okay?"
A few kilometers away from where the Black-Devil mole fell, two silhouettes could be seen walking through a bunch of bushes, one completely drenched in blood.
"Huh?" Victoria raised her head with sudden confusion, then smiled, recognizing Barthold and the others approaching with worry painted all over their faces.
She proceeded to say, "We are okay, it was but a scratch."
The three paused, looking at her drenched and putrid body. Not only did she smell like beast sweat and blood, but she was also insanely hot.
Literally.
"We should get back. This place is crawling with beasts," the old man Hamdel said, looking around calmly. He shook his head, seemingly unsurprised by why Victoria replied as she did.
"Uhhh, sure," Barthold nodded. This wasn't the right place to discuss what had just happened. Leaving was the first thing they had to do.
And so they left, not just the area but the forest altogether.
…
"Hmm."
Seeing the silhouettes of Victoria, Barthold, and the others fade into the distance, Guilliman couldn't help but sigh as he turned away to walk toward the slums.
It had been a very hectic day, but it was worth it. He was a small inch away from entering Level 3 and had gotten a mutant beast echo. Though his gains couldn't be compared to someone like Victoria, they were still very good gains.
Walking toward his house, Guilliman no longer took the normal route that led to the back of his window. Instead, he went straight for the main door, slowly ascending the stairs.
A few seconds later, he arrived at the front door and gently pulled the knob to let himself in.
'Oh, they came home early, huh,' he mused, seemingly not caring about the trouble he would face.
"Ugh, you stink, man… Don't tell me you got a job cleaning shit," Carlson, the second oldest, held his nose, irritated by the smell emitting from Guilliman's ragged clothes.
"Something like that," Guilliman smiled, walking toward the ladder that led to his room. Interacting with these guys was a pain.
A week ago, after being grounded to his room, his stepfather Yasper had approached him once more seeking assistance. Of course, this time he didn't have a job in mind since the whole slavery fiasco. But he did directly ask him to pay rent.
He didn't want to let the whole bribery thing go, so he decided that Guilliman would pay the bribe, and in return, he would be allowed to go around during the day. This wasn't some sort of freedom, though, as he would be working after that time.
"Kid, wait." As Guilliman was about to climb up the ladder, the old man's voice resounded, causing him to pause.
"Ugh, you really do reek." He smiled with a hint of disgust in his eyes, but that quickly faded as he placed a cup of booze in his mouth, downing the whole thing.
"You need to pitch in on your little brother's training. It's around 500 credits per week… You can do half, right?" The old man placed a bill on the table, his body resting on the chair beneath him.
"Ohh," Guilliman sneered. The old fool wanted him to pay for the training and education of his children? Shameless! He really had thick skin.
"He's your younger brother and will become a Slayer really soon. You should curry favor with him. Paying this little amount is like an investment," his mother popped out of nowhere and added, looking at Guilliman with a look of disdain.
He would never amount to anything, so he might as well give his money for the betterment of the family.
"I will see what I can do…." Guilliman smiled, then paused before continuing, "Oh, by the way, I got a job as a stable boy, so I will be doing three-day shifts. I'll make the money available when I'm off."
"Oh, I don't really care about where you work, kid, as long as you pitch in," the old man Yasper filled his cup full of booze, then proceeded to walk out of the room, going into his to continue drinking.
"I see." Guilliman shook his head. This person was just too despicable. He couldn't even pretend to care after asking him for money.
"Hey, what's in that bag?!" As Guilliman turned to continue his climb, his mother asked, looking at a knitted bag that was given to him by Victoria.
"Uhhh, tools for digging." Guilliman didn't even wait. He just responded and kept it moving until he got into the attic, where he closed the door behind him.
…
"Confirmed, it's a Red Gate."
Several thousand miles away from the Blacksteel Shelter, a group of individuals dressed in white could be seen surveying a pulsating mass of pure energy hanging in mid-air.
"I see," amongst them were several strong-looking individuals with a look of disappointment painted on their faces.
"Where's the closest shelter here?" One of the strong individuals in white asked, his chiseled chin and strong build towering in front of the sun's rays.
"That would be the Blacksteel Shelter, sire," he received a reply from a rather younger gentleman with a goatee and a much leaner build.
"Oh, this is Blacksteel's territory? Well then, let's see how their younger generation fares against such an earth-shaking challenge," the individual smiled. This was that arrogant bastard's territory—good! It seemed like karma had finally caught up to him.
Maybe after losing a few of his children to this gate, he would understand the importance of answering to a higher authority with politeness.
"Send them the order. They are to send people to clear this gate. Failure to do so in the coming three months, and they will lose their only seat on the council," the man spoke with confidence and a hint of ill intention.
"Also, hide the fact that this is a Red Gate…. Yellow is good, scratch that, peak Yellow with the possibility of becoming Red," he said, trying to hide some facts about the situation.