"And then he said, 'Suck it!'" Milio practically shouted, banging his arm on the table as he erupted into laughter. His entire body shook as he slapped my back repeatedly, a little too hard for comfort. I jerked forward slightly—damn, did he have to hit that hard?
"You can't be serious," Sophia said, barely stifling her giggles as she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. She glanced at me, eyes twinkling with amusement.
We were back at the inn, all seated around a wooden table. Milio sat to my left, still holding onto my shoulder as he laughed himself breathless. Victor was on my right, far more composed but shaking his head slightly at the whole situation. Across from us, Lucian listened intently, smirking every now and then. Sophie, sitting beside him, was clearly entertained by the story. Meanwhile, Olivia sat next to Lucian, completely absorbed in carving a small wooden figurine. From what I could tell, it looked like a wolf—and to be honest, it was really well made.
I kept my expression blank, hoping the conversation would move on to literally anything else. But after my glorious victory against the second-class hunter, it seemed like the rumors had already spread like wildfire.
The nickname "the cheater" was being thrown around everywhere. It hadn't even been a full day, and somehow everyone seemed to know what happened. While we were eating, a few hunters approached our table, chuckling as they asked, "Hey, are you the famous cheater?" before walking off laughing.
Apparently, the guy I beat—Viole—was somewhat of a well-known rookie hunter. His loss hadn't gone unnoticed, and now it felt like half the world had heard about it.
But shouldn't that make me cool or something? Instead, I was getting laughed at like I was some kind of joke.
Milio, of course, was thriving in this situation. He kept sneaking glances at me, waiting for me to react. But I refused to give him the satisfaction. I stared blankly ahead, ignoring his obvious attempts to get a rise out of me.
I just had to endure this. Eventually, they'd move on to another topic… right?
After the fight at the guild, we were informed that it would take some time before we received our badges officially recognizing us as third-class hunters. Apparently, we were supposed to return the next day to collect them. The badge itself was the only real form of verification, and while the first one was given for free, if we ever lost it, we'd have to pay for a replacement—something the receptionist made sure to emphasize.
With the test behind us, we decided to call it a day and focus on gathering some much-needed supplies. Milio initially wanted to opt out, but Victor, ever the responsible one, gave us a lecture on why having the right essentials was just as important as anything else. Reluctantly, we all agreed and spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for necessities—basic items like toothbrushes, undergarments, and an extra shirt I decided to pick up. Nothing extravagant, just enough to make life a little easier as we prepared for what lay ahead.
Night had settled in, but the inn was livelier than ever. The place was packed—tables crowded with people drinking, laughter and conversation filling the air. The scent of ale and roasted meat lingered, mixing with the occasional burst of boisterous cheers from rowdy patrons. It seemed the real energy of the inn didn't come alive until after dark.
As we made our way back from shopping, we figured we might as well check in on the others. Maybe they had gathered some useful information that could help us navigate this world better.
But the moment we sat down with them, any chance of a serious discussion was thrown out the window.
Instead of exchanging important details, the entire conversation revolved around me—or rather, the so-called "famous cheater."
"How much money do you guys have right now?" I asked, hoping to finally steer the conversation toward something more productive.
Sophia tilted her head, thinking for a moment. "Umm… I have around 18 silver and 50 copper. I think Oliva has a bit more."
I blinked. That was… quite a lot. Sure, they didn't have to worry about rent, but still, compared to us, they were doing much better.
After our shopping trip, I checked my pouch and realized I only had about 10 silver left. From what I had gathered, Victor and Milio were in the same boat. That meant one thing—we had to get serious about making money, and fast.
Starting tomorrow, we had no choice but to work. The 20 silver debt still loomed over us, and time was running out.
"I have around... uhhh, 15 silver," Lucian replied hesitantly.
I frowned. That seemed way too low for someone who didn't have to pay for rent or food. With free lodging and meals covered, where had all his money gone?
Then, a thought crossed my mind. Back when we first spoke to him, he lied about not going to the guild. Could it be that he secretly took the hunter exam and failed? That would explain why he was acting so hesitant now—he was probably embarrassed about it.
"You took the exam and failed, didn't you?" I pointed at Lucian, blurting it out
His eye twitched as he stiffened. "What… How did you figure that out?"
Before I could answer, Milio immediately latched onto the topic. "Wait, you actually failed?!" His eyes lit up as a wide grin spread across his face. He burst into laughter, slapping the table.
Lucian's face turned bright red.
Sorry, Lucian. You laughed at me first—no hard feelings.
A few giggles echoed around the table as Lucian scrambled to defend himself. "I would've passed if I had picked a better weapon!" he muttered, crossing his arms.
But before Lucian could salvage his pride, Milio burst into another fit of laughter, shaking his head. "Yeah, sure you would! With those twig arms? I bet the weapon was heavier than you!"
Lucian clamped his mouth shut, his face still red. Realizing there was no way to win this, he did exactly what I was doing—shutting up and adopting a blank expression, pretending none of this was happening.
"Sophie looked at Milio with a curious smile. "Milio, was it? You're a lot more talkative now. Back when we were together, you barely said a word. What changed?"
Milio's laughter died down, and for a moment, he looked like he was in deep thought. "Not sure… I just feel a lot better now. Sorry if I was weird back at the castle."
Sophie shook her head. "No, it's okay. Honestly, if I were in your place, I would've been scared too."
She had a point. Thinking back, Milio's personality had done a complete 180. He went from being the quiet, reserved type to a loudmouth who didn't hesitate to voice his opinions—especially when it came to making fun of me. Not sure how I felt about that part. But, if I was being honest… It was nice seeing him comfortable around us.
As we sat together, the conversation naturally drifted away from anything important—no talk of guilds, ranks, or survival strategies. Instead, we found ourselves reminiscing about our lives before arriving here.
For some reason, I found myself avoiding the topic. I didn't really want to talk about my past, and luckily, I didn't have to. Lucian and Sophie quickly took over, going back and forth as they shared their own stories.
Lucian complained about his overbearing mother, rolling his eyes as he recounted the strict rules she used to enforce. Sophie, on the other hand, spoke fondly of her father—the person she missed the most.
I listened in silence, pretending to focus on my food, but in reality, my mind was elsewhere. I didn't want to think about my past, let alone talk about it. Hearing them speak so openly about their families made something uneasy stir inside me. Maybe it was jealousy.
I also remembered the lie I had told earlier when I first met them —that I had parents. The thought weighed on me. I didn't want to keep lying, but at the same time, I couldn't bring myself to tell the truth. If they knew more about me—really knew me—maybe they'd see me differently. Maybe they'd leave.
"Come here for a second," Milio whispered, his voice low. Without waiting for a response, he pushed himself up from the table and began walking away.
I watched him go, hesitating for a moment. When he noticed I hadn't moved, he glanced back over his shoulder and gestured impatiently for me to follow.
What's this about? I frowned, puzzled by his sudden secrecy. Whatever it was, he clearly didn't want the others to hear.
Curiosity got the better of me, so I stood up and quietly followed after him.
"I want to try the alcohol. Would you like some?" Milio asked in a hushed tone, even though we had already put quite a bit of distance between ourselves and the others.
I stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. This was the same guy who had nearly cried over losing five silver at the guild, and now he suddenly didn't mind wasting money on alcohol?
I couldn't get a read on him.
Still, a part of me was curious. I had never tried alcohol before. My stepdad used to drink it all the time at home, though I never really understood why. The way he drowned himself in it never made sense to me, but the curiosity to taste it myself had always been there.
Even so, I knew better.
"We're broke," I reminded him flatly. "Do you really want to waste more money—especially on alcohol?"
Milio threw an arm around my shoulder and started dragging me toward the counter. "Come on, just one drink. I need a friend to drink with—it'd be kind of depressing to do it alone."
I sighed. "Why don't you ask Victor?"
Milio scoffed, letting go of me as he pointed upward dramatically. Then, in an exaggerated, nerdy voice, he said, "'It is very bad for your health' or some nonsense like that. 'A complete waste of money,' or whatever else he'd say to ruin the fun."
I smirked. He wasn't wrong. Victor definitely seemed like the type to avoid alcohol altogether.
I hesitated for a moment, but… would it really be that bad? We were starting work seriously tomorrow. We had an entire month to make the twenty silver we owed. One drink wouldn't kill me.
"...Fine," I relented. "But just one."
We arrived at the counter, and an awkward realization hit me—I had no idea what to order. What kind of alcohol did they even have here? I glanced at Milio, silently hoping he'd take the lead. This was his idea, after all.
"Two alcohol, please," Milio said confidently, raising two fingers at the bartender.
I nearly cringed. This idiot. Had he never been to a bar in his life? Well, to be fair, I hadn't either, but even I knew that's not how you ordered a drink. You were supposed to ask for a specific type, not just blurt out 'alcohol.'
I clenched my teeth, resisting the urge to bury my face in my hands. Great. Now we both looked like idiots.
Of course, the bartender looked puzzled, eyeing Milio like he had just spoken another language. With a sigh, he asked, "What kind of alcohol? Beer, whiskey, or wine?"
Realizing our mistake, we quickly asked for the prices. After a short debate, we settled on the cheapest option—beer—which only cost 10 copper. Not a bad deal.
Moments later, the bartender slid two large mugs toward us, each filled to the brim with golden liquid, a thick layer of foam bubbling at the top. It looked... heavier than I expected. Well, no turning back now.
Milio raised his mug, grinning, and I followed suit. Together, we took our first swigs of beer.
The taste was… bitter. Not exactly what I expected, but not terrible either. It had a heavy, malty flavor that lingered on my tongue. Milio, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it right away.
I took my time, sipping slowly, wanting to savor the experience. But Milio wasn't having it.
"No, no, no! You're doing it wrong," he said, nudging my arm. "You gotta chug it! That's the whole point!"
Before I could protest, he tilted his head back and downed the entire mug in one go.
Peer pressure was a hell of a thing.
With a sigh, I followed suit and gulped the beer down in one long swig. By the time I slammed the mug onto the counter, my stomach felt fuller than it had after any actual meal.
Milio wiped his mouth, grinning ear to ear. "Another!"
I hesitated. Was this really a good idea?
…Eh, one more couldn't hurt. Right?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Another!" Milio declared, raising his empty mug triumphantly.
This time, the bartender didn't share his enthusiasm. He gave us a look of concern, arms crossed. "That's enough for you two," he said firmly. "We're cutting you off."
I blinked. "What? Why?"
Then I glanced at the table.
Six empty mugs.
Oh.
Damn. Had we really drunk that much in just an hour?
The room swayed slightly as I shifted in my seat. My head felt light, my limbs sluggish—like I was floating but sinking at the same time. No, wait. That wasn't the alcohol. That was Milio hanging off of me.
He had an arm draped over my shoulder, his face practically smushed against mine. His grip was tight, like I was the only thing keeping him from falling off the stool.
"I'm sooo thankful," he slurred, his breath warm against my ear. "That you're coming with me… to the Kingdom of the North."
Before I could even respond, he rubbed his hand through my hair, messing it up completely before pressing his forehead against my temple.
"And thanks… for drinking with meee," he mumbled, his voice muffled as he practically nuzzled into my face.
I groaned. This was a mistake.
I glanced toward where Victor was sitting—it seemed so far away.
Great.
Getting back there in this state was going to be a challenge.
I nudged Milio, signaling that we needed to leave. He was still hanging off my shoulder, swaying slightly, but when I motioned toward Victor, he grinned lazily and gave me a sloppy thumbs-up.
That wasn't reassuring.
I wasn't feeling great either. My head felt light, but at the same time, I was brimming with confidence—like I could do anything. And that… troubled me.
I didn't want to know what I might do if I let that feeling take over.
I just needed to get back to Victor.
Hopefully, he'd just lecture us and put us to bed. That was the best-case scenario.
As we staggered toward Victor and the others, Milio remained draped over my shoulder, his weight shifting unsteadily with each step. His eyes were shut, but I knew he was still awake—muttering something under his breath that I couldn't quite understand.
Hopeless. This guy was completely hopeless.
Just as I took another step forward, something blocked my path.
I stopped abruptly, blinking through my haze.
A leg had suddenly appeared in my path.
Seated at a table, clad in black leather armor, his two lackeys flanking him as usual. His smirk widened as he leaned back, watching me with an air of amusement.
Of course this would happen now, but for some reason I wasn't as nervous as I was before, some part of me wanted him to start something .
"Look who it is, boys… the famous cheater!" Dunstan pointed at me, laughing hysterically. His lackeys quickly joined in, their chuckles echoing through the inn.
"And look at them—they're so dumb, they got themselves pot-sick!"
Pot-sick? I assumed it was some local slang for being drunk, but it was definitely a weird phrase.
I ignored the laughter, my hazy mind struggling to focus. My eyes met his stare as I asked, "What do you… want?" My words were slightly slurred, but my tone remained steady.
Dunstan pushed himself up from his seat, stepping closer until we were face to face. His smirk faded into a sneer.
"You're a disgrace—a cheater. People earn the title of Third-Class Hunter, but you?" He scoffed, looking me up and down. "You didn't even fight fair. If I were the judge, you'd have been disqualified on the spot."
He leaned in slightly, voice dripping with condescension. "And to think you actually believe you won against Viole. You just got lucky. He's in a completely different league than you."
A tense silence settled over the inn. As I glanced around, I noticed that nearly everyone had their eyes on us, their conversations dying down. They were expecting something—a fight, maybe.
But what was this guy's problem, anyway?
I furrowed my brows, confused, just as I was about to open my mouth to respond—
"Who's this egghead?" Milio slurred, still leaning heavily against me, his half-lidded eyes lazily locking onto Dunstan.
A wave of laughter erupted throughout the inn. Even I couldn't help but smirk at Milio's drunken remark. Conversations around us died down, more and more people turning their attention to our little exchange, waiting to see what would happen next.
Dunstan's expression twisted in fury. His brows furrowed deeply, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His lackeys had already stood up, though they hadn't made a move yet—waiting, it seemed, to see how this would play out.
"Say that again," Dunstan growled, his voice low and dangerous.
I tilted my head, still grinning. "Are you deaf? He called you an egghead, baldy."
The veins on Dunstan's forehead bulged, his already bald head turning an angry shade of red. He looked like he was on the verge of exploding, his entire body trembling with rage. It was almost comical—like he was using every ounce of self-control not to swing at me right then and there.
"Okay then, outworlder," Dunstan bellowed, throwing his arms out theatrically as if putting on a grand show. "If you think you're so tough, why don't we settle this with a fight? Let's see who the bigger man really is!"
His voice carried through the inn, loud enough for everyone to hear. He wanted this—wanted the attention, the spectacle. Maybe he was trying to cement himself as the guy who put the so-called "cheater" in his place.
The moment his challenge rang out, a wave of excitement rippled through the crowd.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
The chant spread like wildfire, filling the room with eager voices. It seemed like everyone wanted to see how this would play out.
Then something caught my eye—just behind Dunstan, Victor stood up from his seat. His expression was unreadable at first, but then he shook his head, a subtle but clear signal: Don't do it. Back out.
Lucian's reaction was different—his eyes widened, almost in shock, as if he had just witnessed something absurd. Sophie's face mirrored his, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and concern. Olivia seemed just as confused, her gaze flicking between me and Dunstan, clearly unsure of what was happening.
Milio, meanwhile, finally pulled himself off my shoulder, wobbling as he tried to take in the situation. His head darted around like a madman—first at the roaring crowd, then at me, then at Dunstan. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, looking far more intoxicated than I was.
I might've been drunk, but he was completely over the limit.
I waited for the rowdy chants to settle before finally speaking.
"No." My voice was calm, almost too soft for the intensity of the moment.
The air grew tense for a second, but then Dunstan scoffed loudly. "Hear that? Not only is he a cheater, but a coward too!" He jabbed a finger at me, then turned to the crowd, fueling their excitement. More murmurs spread through the room, some chuckling, others whispering. He was trying to humiliate me in front of everyone.
I took a deep breath, then smiled. "Alright then. Let's make it interesting—10 silver. I bet I'll beat you."
Dunstan's smirk faltered for just a second, as if he hadn't expected me to challenge him back. Then, his expression twisted into a grin. "10 silver? That's pocket change. Make it 20."
Damn it. I didn't have 20 silver. My pulse quickened. I was about to say something when I suddenly felt a hand clamp onto my shoulder.
"Okay, fine. 20 silver."
I turned to see Milio, swaying slightly but grinning ear to ear. His tone was light, almost careless, but his grip on my shoulder was steady.
He was betting everything on me.
Dunstan stepped in closer until we were practically face-to-face. The stench of alcohol lingered on his breath as he sneered, "This is gonna be the easiest money I've ever made."
He loomed slightly taller than me, standing there, expecting me to flinch. But for some reason—maybe it was the drunken confidence surging through me, or maybe I was just sick of guys like him—I didn't move an inch. Right now, I felt invincible, like I could take on the whole world.
Just then, an elderly man, who looked like the owner of the inn, stepped forward and spoke firmly. "No fights inside. Take it outside."
Dunstan clicked his tongue in annoyance but quickly turned to the crowd, flashing a smirk. "Fine! We'll do this outside!" he shouted, stepping away from me and making his way toward the door.
The moment he said that, the entire inn came alive. Chairs scraped against the floor as nearly everyone stood up, drinks in hand, eager to watch the spectacle unfold. It was like we had just announced the main event of the night.
As I followed Dunstan outside, Milio trailed behind me, wobbling slightly but still grinning. I glanced over at Victor—his expression was unreadable, but his arms were crossed, and his stare was sharp. Lucian and Sophie, on the other hand, looked absolutely stunned, their eyes darting between me and Dunstan like they couldn't believe this was actually happening.
Outside, a large crowd had already gathered, forming a circle around Dunstan and his lackeys, who stood in the middle with cocky grins. The air buzzed with anticipation, drunken cheers, and muttered bets.
"Who's your money on?"
"Dunstan, obviously. The kid's a fluke."
"I feel bad for him, honestly."
"Dunstan's gonna break him."
The chants and laughter only seemed to inflate Dunstan's already massive ego. He stood there, basking in the attention like he had already won.
Not a single voice in the crowd was betting on me.
I had a feeling the only people who believed I could win were Milio and Victor. That was a little sad, but at the same time, it made me feel something else too.
When I beat this guy, I wanted to see the look on their faces.
In the crowd, Victor stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable as he watched the scene unfold. Beside him, Lucian looked far more eager, his excitement practically radiating off of him. Meanwhile, Sophie and Olivia were the only ones visibly uneasy.
"I just hope he doesn't get hurt," Sophie murmured, glancing anxiously toward the fight. "There's no way he can win."
"Yeah… given the circumstances, it doesn't look good for him," Victor said, his tone unreadable.
Sophie turned to him sharply, frowning. "You don't seem all that concerned. Your friend is about to get beaten up, and you're just standing here. Maybe we should stop this before it gets out of hand."
Victor let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "I wasn't talking about Bel—I meant the other guy."
Lucian's brows lifted in surprise, his interest piqued.
Sophie's frown deepened. "What makes you so sure?"
Victor simply shrugged. "Gut feeling. I just can't see a world where belial loses."
And for the first time, a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
Now, only Bel and Dunstan remained in the center, facing each other, both settling into their stances. The air was thick with anticipation as the crowd, now fully encircling them, roared with excitement.
The ground beneath them was stone, uneven but solid. The chants from the spectators filled the night—
"Kick his ass!"
"Dunstan, show him what you've got!"
The voices blended into a constant wave of noise, the energy electric.
Then, amidst the chaos, a small but familiar voice broke through.
"Kick his ass, mister!"
I turned slightly, just enough to see her—the young girl from before. Her tiny fists were clenched, her eyes filled with determination as she cheered for me.
I looked forward again, a slow smile creeping onto my face.
Now, there's no way I can lose.
As we took our stances, Dunstan grinned, exaggerating his mouth movements so I could clearly read his lips—
"You're done."
I stared back at him, unphased.
We locked eyes, both waiting for the other to make the first move.
I raised my fists into a boxing stance, bouncing lightly on my feet to keep myself energized. My body loosened, ready to react.
I had already sized him up—his reach was longer than mine. If I rushed in recklessly, he'd tag me before I could get close. My abilities were useless in a direct fight, so I had to be smart about this.
I'll wait. Let him make the first move. And when he does—I'll counter.
The noise from the crowd was deafening, but in that moment, I heard nothing.
My focus was locked onto Dunstan. My eyes tracked his chin, my fists clenched tight, waiting—just waiting for the right moment.
Then he charged.
His fist reeled back, a predictable straight right aimed directly at my face. Too slow. Too obvious.
I slipped under the punch with ease, my instincts taking over. My body reacted before my mind could even process it—a right overhand.
It wasn't my cleanest punch—maybe the alcohol made my movements sloppier than usual—but I felt it connect. The solid impact sent a shock through my arm. I quickly stepped to the side, regaining my stance, expecting a counterattack—
But there was none.
Dunstan wasn't where I thought he'd be.
He was on the ground.
Just like that.
Silence.
The rowdy, roaring crowd had gone completely still. No one moved. No one spoke. Even Dunstan's lackeys stood frozen, as if waiting for him to rise. But he didn't.
That was it?
This guy talked so much, and this was all he had?
A wave of disgust hit me—not because of the fight, but because someone this weak had the arrogance to act like he was untouchable.
I exhaled and turned my attention to the crowd. Nothing. No cheers, no jeers—just stunned expressions.
Fine. If they weren't going to react, I'd make them.
I stepped toward Dunstan's unconscious form and rifled through his pockets. A second later, I pulled out a pouch—his money.
Raising it high above my head, I smirked and shouted, "Free drinks for everyone!"
The silence shattered.
The crowd exploded.
Milio came barreling toward me, grabbing me in a bear hug before hoisting me up onto his shoulders.
"CHEATER!" he bellowed, grinning ear to ear, almost proudly embracing my nickname.
The entire crowd erupted in cheers.
"Good job, kid!"
"That was insane!"
"I knew you'd win!"
The energy surged around me, strangers patting my back, clapping my shoulders, roaring their approval. It was chaos—and I loved it.
Amidst the crowd, Victor stood calmly, arms crossed, watching everything unfold. He glanced at Sophie, who still looked like she couldn't believe what just happened.
"See?" he said with a small smirk. "I couldn't imagine him losing."
With our newfound winnings in hand, Milio and I led the charge back into the bar. The drinks flowed freely—we used every last coin of Dunstan's money to buy as many rounds as possible.
We drank. We laughed. We celebrated.
That night, we owned the tavern.