The team's progress was steady, focusing on adapting to the environment and honing their teamwork.
Irene and Kael collected the shimmering dust left behind by slain monsters, dividing the spoils evenly among the group.
Compared to other parties in the past and present, this was not a glamorous start, but it was a necessary one.
Back at the guild, the group approached the exchange counter, where Clara greeted them with her usual professional smile.
"Back already? Let's see what you've got."
The party handed over their loot, and Clara quickly tallied their earnings. When she was done, she slid a small pouch of coins to each of them.
"Not bad for beginners," she said, her tone light but encouraging. "You've earned 4,000 silver pieces each. A solid first outing."
Fugo stared at the coins in his hand, his eyes shining with excitement. It had been weeks since he'd had the chance to shop for anything. "Wow," he muttered, a small smile spreading across his face.
Renjiro nudged him with an elbow, grinning. "Don't blow it all in one place."
Irene, standing quietly to the side, watched the group with a faint smile of her own.
"We all drink beer, right?" she offered casually. "Let's hit a bar or something."
"No," Kael replied without hesitation.
"Sorry," Fugo added softly. "I can't handle alcohol."
Irene didn't push. She caught the tone, saw the look in Fugo's eyes, and simply nodded, letting the idea drop.
As the group departed the guild, the others—Kael, Renjiro, and Irene—fell into easy conversation, laughter, and light chatter echoing between them. Fugo trailed behind, silent.
His thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
Spiders. Rabbits. Wolves.
Creatures that had done nothing but live—and he had ended them.
"This is what I'll be doing from now on..." he murmured to himself, eyes distant.
A heaviness pressed on his chest, but the rhythmic jingle from the pouch at his side softened the weight, easing the guilt with every step.
He was surviving. That had to count for something.
"Hehehe... I wonder what I could buy Lina..." he mused aloud, a faint glimmer of warmth returning to his voice.
But then his pace began to slow. One step faltered. Then another. His breathing turned shallow. Shoulders curled inward.
Up ahead, Irene noticed the distance growing between them. She stopped, turned back, and called gently, "Fugo? You okay?"
He didn't respond right away. Just stood there, staring at the ground like it held all the answers he didn't want to face.
Renjiro and Kael turned as well, eyes narrowing in concern.
That's when Kael noticed it—a group of men approaching. Four of them. Seasoned. Confident. Dangerous.
Their golden badges gleamed in the sunlight—Expert-ranked adventurers.
And one of them... had orange hair.
Just like Fugo's.
Except his had streaks of yellow running through the tips, like fire frozen in motion. His armor bore the unmistakable insignia of the Almaty Familia, bold and proud on his chest.
"That someone you know?" Renjiro asked, pointing at the man.
Fugo jerked Renjiro's hand down, his eyes wide with panic.
But it was already too late.
The man with orange hair had seen them.
"Wait! Is that—?" His voice rang with disbelief. "No way! If it isn't my little rascal of a cousin!"
He crossed the distance in long, confident strides before anyone could move. His hand came down hard on Fugo's head, ruffling his hair in a way that felt more like dominance than affection.
"You didn't tell me you started exploring!" he barked, grinning. "How come, huh?!"
Fugo flinched, turning his face away. His whole frame trembled.
Irene stepped forward, protective instinct rising. "You related to Fugo?"
The man stepped back just enough to puff up his chest and flash a cocky smile.
"Takeshi Almaty."
"One of his many cousins," he added almost dismissively. "But I'm the only one who still bothers to consider him family."
Then he turned back to Fugo, eyes gleaming with that same smug energy.
"Anyways, how far'd you get today, huh? First floor? Second?"
Fugo swallowed hard, forcing the words out of his mouth.
"S-second."
Takeshi grinned, and his crew behind him joined in. "Second? Sounds about right! You have always been pretty pathetic. Who in their right mind would recruit you?"
He ruffled Fugo's hair again, harder this time.
Irene stepped forward and slapped Takeshi's hand away.
"That's enough."
"What are you on about!?" Irene argued. "Fugo is special! Fugo has what it takes to wield my blades—something you had failed at in seconds in the past."
Takeshi froze, then laughed even harder, his amusement almost manic. "Wait a second," he said, pointing at Irene.
"Ah! I remember now!"
"Don't tell me you're that Cruz girl. The one who can't make a decent weapon to save her life? Oh, this just gets better! What a team of losers!" His mocking tone cut through the air like a blade.
"I can't weild weapons that are beneath him hun, I recalled uttering those words to you back then, didn't I? It still stands."
Kael clenched his fists, but Renjiro held out a hand to stop him. "No point in fighting these guys," Renjiro said through gritted teeth. "We won't win."
"What?!" Irene snapped, glaring at Renjiro.
"Where's your spunk?!"
Renjiro sighed, his voice calm but strained.
"Relax. They're just using words. That doesn't warrant anything extreme."
But things escalated anyway.
Takeshi reached into Fugo's pocket, pulling out a small pouch of silver coins. He jingled it mockingly. "Hmm, this should cover some drinks later. Great news, boys—we can save today's haul!"
Fugo's heart sank, after losing his hard-earned money. He had already laid out plans for those coins.
Saving a portion of it, while buying Lina a present and groceries for their survival as well.
Takeshi's group cheered, happy to know they don't have to spend any of their money tonight.
"This...this is why I can't like you." Fugo thought to himself.
He loathed himself, a burning hatred directed at himself for hesitation and weakness.
"Why?" Fugo thought. "Why can't I move? Why don't I fight?"
His mind drifted to Lina.
He imagined her working tirelessly, overburdened and exhausted, all while he was supposed to support her. He had dreamed of proudly showing her the money he earned, but if he returned empty-handed again, what would she think?
That thought alone pushed him forward.
"Enough."
The word wasn't shouted, but it carried a weight that made Takeshi pause. Fugo's hand shot out, gripping Takeshi's wrist tightly.
Surprised, Takeshi looked down. "Hmm? What's this? A death wish?"
Takeshi shoved Fugo back, but Fugo's grip held firm. His voice, though quiet, was steady. "That's my money. Give it back. You don't need it."
Takeshi sneered. "An Almaty fighting me over silver? That's rich!"
With a little effort, Takeshi pushed Fugo to the floor.
That caused Irene to step forward, but she was quickly backhanded and also sent to the floor.
She coughed, holding her cheeks, and tears welling up in her eyes.
Renjiro nodded upon seeing that. "Good."
"You struck first."
Takeshi's cocky smirk didn't last long. Renjiro stepped forward, rolling his shoulders casually as if warming up. His grin was sharp, dangerous, like a blade glinting under sunlight.
"Four of you," Renjiro mused, his tone light but laced with menace. "That's not even fair... for you."
Takeshi sneered. "Big words for a rookie. You think you can take us on?"
Renjiro didn't reply. He simply tilted his head and beckoned them forward with a flick of his fingers.
The first man snarled, lunging at him with a heavy fist aimed at Renjiro's jaw.
But Renjiro stepped to the side at the last second, twisting his body just enough to avoid the blow.
Using the man's momentum against him, Renjiro grabbed his arm, pulled him forward, and delivered a sharp elbow strike to his ribs.
The man gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, crumpling to the ground.
"Too slow," Renjiro quipped, spinning on his heel just as the second man came charging in with a dagger.
The blade sliced through the air, but Renjiro was already moving, ducking low and sweeping his leg out.
The man stumbled, and before he could recover, Renjiro slammed the back of his elbow into the side of the man's head, sending him sprawling.
Takeshi cursed. "What are you idiots doing?! Get him!"
The remaining two men moved in unison, trying to flank Renjiro. One swung a club at his left side while the other aimed a kick at his midsection.
Renjiro smirked, his body flowing like water as he ducked under the club and sidestepped the kick. He grabbed the leg of the man who had kicked, twisting it sharply and sending him toppling to the ground with a pained yelp.
The man with the club growled in frustration, swinging again with all his might.
Renjiro feigned a step back, baiting the man into overextending, then darted forward, closing the gap instantly. With a quick jab to the man's wrist, the club clattered to the ground. Renjiro followed it up with a spinning kick to the man's temple, dropping him like a sack of bricks.
"Two left," Renjiro said, his grin widening as he turned to Takeshi and the last standing lackey.
One of the remaining lackeys hesitated, his confidence shaken. "Takeshi, maybe we should—"
"Shut up!" Takeshi barked, shoving the man toward Renjiro.
The lackey, now panicking, rushed forward with a desperate punch. Renjiro leaned back, dodging the attack effortlessly. He grabbed the man's arm and used his momentum to flip him over his shoulder, slamming him into the ground with a resounding thud.
"And then there was one," Renjiro said, his eyes locking onto Takeshi.
Takeshi's grin faltered, but he quickly drew his sword, brandishing it with a flourish.
"Don't think you can take me, you little brat. I'm leagues above you."
Renjiro's smile didn't waver. "You're welcome to try."
Takeshi charged, his sword flashing in a wide arc. Renjiro waited until the last moment, then twisted his body just enough for the blade to pass harmlessly by him.
Takeshi's balance wavered, and Renjiro used the opening to land a quick palm strike to Takeshi's chest, forcing him back.
Takeshi growled, adjusting his grip and lunging again. This time, Renjiro stepped into the attack, pivoting on his foot to slip past the blade. With his momentum, Renjiro slammed his knee into Takeshi's stomach, doubling him over.
"Predictable," Renjiro said, grabbing the back of Takeshi's head and shoving him to the ground.
Takeshi tried to scramble to his feet, but Renjiro was faster. He placed a boot on Takeshi's chest, pinning him down.
"That's enough," Renjiro said coldly, his earlier humor replaced with steel.
"You've lost."
Takeshi glared up at him, his pride clearly more wounded than his body. The rest of his crew groaned and writhed on the ground, none of them in any condition to help.
Renjiro leaned down slightly, his eyes sharp. "Next time you pick a fight, make sure it's one you can win." He stepped back, letting Takeshi stumble to his feet.
"Now," Renjiro added, his voice laced with venom, "Give Fugo his money back."
Grumbling under his breath, Takeshi threw the pouch of coins onto the ground. Renjiro retrieved it, tossing it to Fugo with a casual flick of his wrist.
"All yours, buddy."
Fugo caught it, clinging to the pouch as if it were his lifeline.
"Thanks, Renjiro..."
Renjiro shrugged.
"Don't mention it. Just try not to let punks like this walk all over you next time."
He proceeded to crouch down and search through the unconscious men's pockets. He pulled out wallets and coin pouches.
"Let's split this too, shall we?"
Irene was the first to sprint over, her cheek still red from the blow, but her spirit was still high.
Kael followed more deliberately, closely inspecting the fallen men sprawled on the ground.
The fight caused a commotion, they had only just noticed, but a huge audience had been watching them this whole time. Some of them wore expert badges just like Takeshi.
Renjiro stood relaxed, brushing dust off his sleeves as if the fight had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "We should probably leave, like, right now."
Fugo, however, did not move. He remained where he was, his gaze fixed on Takeshi's crumpled form.
"You okay, buddy?" Renjiro asked, tossing a pouch of coins to Irene before looking back at Fugo.
Fugo nodded slowly. "Yeah... I'm fine. Just... not taking any of it." His voice was quiet, yet resolute.
"I don't want to make this worse."
Renjiro shrugged with a grin. "Suit yourself. More for us."
....
By the time Fugo returned home, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a faint, golden light through the cracks of his shed.
The small, ramshackle space felt colder than usual, but the sound of running water from behind the tattered curtain brought him some comfort.
Lina was showering.
Fugo set his bag down quietly, not wanting to disturb her, and sat on their creaky bed. The events of the day replayed in his mind: the fight, the tower, Takeshi's sneer, and the weight of Irene's words.
Yet, for all the chaos, the thought of seeing Lina again offered him a sliver of peace.
Fugo, perched silently on the edge of the bed, when a little idea sparked in his mind—nothing harmful, just enough to rattle her.
Operation: Surprise Hug.
With all the stealth of a particularly sneaky housecat, he tiptoed across the wooden floor, barely making a sound. Every creak of the boards was a nerve-wracking gamble, but he managed.
Just as Lina passed the table, he lunged—not wildly, but gently—wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.
"WHO!?" Lina shrieked, nearly leaping out of her towel.
She flailed for half a second like a surprised cat before freezing, her instincts working to sort friend from foe.
Fugo couldn't hold back. He burst out laughing, his face pressed against her shoulder, shaking with amusement.
"It's me! It's just me!" he wheezed through chuckles. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."
"You little—!" she gasped, smacking his arm in mock offense. "You absolute menace!"
But her smile betrayed her. Her body relaxed in his hold, leaning back into him with a soft huff.
"Next time, try using words first. Preferably before you give me a heart attack."
"I did think about it," Fugo grinned, resting his chin on her shoulder again. "But where's the fun in that?"
Lina chuckled, brushing her fingers along his hand until their palms met.
"You're lucky I didn't dropkick you."
"You're lucky I didn't scream first. Could've blown the roof off."
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment before Fugo whispered, "I just got back."
"Oh?" she tilted her head toward him. "Did you go out to explore?"
He nodded, guiding her gently into his arms. "The Oblivion Spire. My party and I went in today."
Lina's brow rose. "Sweet! You're not joking, I hope."
"I'm not. My team managed itself pretty well," Fugo said. "Came back with some shards. Earned about 4,000 silvers."
Her expression twisted in disbelief. "Four thousand? In one day?"
"I mean, yeah," he laughed sheepishly. "It's not a king's ransom, but it's something. And if I keep pushing forward, we'll be out of here soon, Lina. No more broken pipes or moldy ceilings. Somewhere better—for both of us."
Her smile faded slightly, caught between hope and fear. "Don't... don't get my hopes up, Fugo."
"I want to," he said gently, brushing his fingers along her cheek. "Because this time, I mean it."
He leaned in, kissing her softly—tenderly—as if sealing the promise with his lips.
Lina's arms wrapped around him, clinging tight. A choked sob escaped her throat as she pressed her face against his chest, her fingers clutching at his shirt.
"They're monsters, your family," she whispered. "Today... I knew for sure. It felt like the world itself wanted me to suffer."
She stepped back slightly and lifted the edge of her towel to reveal a swollen red bump along her ribs. The bruise looked fresh, angry.
Fugo's breath caught. The amusement from earlier evaporated. His jaw clenched, and something sharp and protective flared in his chest.
"That's exactly why I have to keep going," he said quietly, his voice like steel wrapped in velvet. "I'll find us somewhere new. Somewhere safe."
Lina reached up and ran her fingers gently through his hair, her touch tender despite the pain.
"You've always had a way of making me believe," she said softly. "And no matter how much the world tries to knock me down... I still believe in you, Fugo."