Chapter 5: Chapter 5 – Dumpster Diving Dungeoneer, Part 5

Wip stood alone. The jungle had been blasted away. The monsters were all dead. And he was laughing. No, not Wip. He was laughing. The Hyena.

Wip was there, in a body that should have been his. But for all it mattered, he may as well have been outside of it, watching as his own body beat up one person after another. He could stop it—he knew he could—but he was scared. He was so scared. He’d covered his ears to block out the screams, but the screaming had died out long ago. Now, the silence was overwhelming, unbearable—he knew what that meant and it was far worse than when they were screaming. There was no way to block out silence. Closing his eyes, covering his ears; that only made it worse.

Then he, the Hyena, turned to the jungle. Wip could feel what he was seeking too, the pressure of the other one who’d tried to kill him. He was going to get her.

No! Wip begged.

The Hyena didn’t listen. He never did, instead just laughed louder at Wip’s protests. He had to be stopped. Wip had to look. He had to take his hands from his ears, to open his eyes, to look into his eyes and see his reflection staring back at him.

No more killing!

Wip started with his breathing—that was the easiest part to take control of. Deep, slow breaths. Deep, slow breaths. The laughter stopped and he, his body, was simply breathing. Next, he took his hands and shakily buried his face into them. That took his eyes away from him. Then he sang to himself. He sang the rhyme that Chian had taught him years ago. He sang to send the Hyena away.

“Put your collar on, now. It’s going to be okay. The Hyena, won’t you. He’s safe inside his cage.”

Unconsciously, he’d been flowing enma into the collar to keep it disabled. It took his full effort to draw it back into his soul. He loved that power and refused to let go, but he was leaving now.

“Come see the sun, oh, silly one. She’ll keep you nice and warm.”

As his enma slipped away from the collar, the tension in Wip’s body slowly released. The collar’s status lights flickered back on. In a shuddering voice, Wip finished his nursery rhyme.

“The Hyena’s in his cage, now. He’ll hurt you no more.”

Slowly, Wip pulled his hands from his eyes. They were his eyes again; he was certain of that. He flexed his fingers, tested his collar with his enma. It was all his. The Hyena was gone. He let out a long, trembling breath.

He looked down at the mangled corpses of his attackers. He told himself that it wasn’t him who did it. They’d messed with something they shouldn’t have and died for it. That was as natural as dying to a monster. There was nothing to regret. Yet he did regret it.

He dropped into a squat and smacked his knuckles to his head. “I just wanted to explore the dungeon. I just wanted to fight the monsters. They don’t feel any pain so I thought I would be okay here, even he came back out. Why does it always turn out this way? Why do people always have to hurt?”

An image flashed through his mind of Stella brushing the ears on her headband, warning him not to step out of line. She cared. She yelled a lot, but she cared. Chian cared too, but she wasn’t here anymore. But Stella was here. They were so alike: firm one moment, kind the next. Maybe that was why Wip was so drawn to Stella.

Wip made up his mind. He stood and sought out the place where the enma was thinnest, the place where the monsters ruled. “Well, I guess I should help Stella out for once. I don’t like upsetting her.” A smile crept onto his face. “I bet she’s really worried about me.”

*****

Stella felt like a complete grupp head. Sure, it wasn’t exactly her fault which lowlifes Wip had got caught up with, but she had been the one to suggest that Wip get a party. She should have realised he would be too stupid to find party members who weren’t carrion crows, dungeoneers who made a living picking the corpses of the fallen.

What was she meant to do, call out Lofer and his gang to their faces? They were involved with the Cartel. They’d killed one of her clients already, nine months ago when she was a foolish new fence! If she’d tried to stop them, they would have gone after her next. The last thing Stella needed was the Cartel demanding some outrageous reparations from her for getting in their way. She had enough money problems as it was, thanks in part to Wip!

Letting out the hundredth groan since Wip had left, Stella banged her head on the counter, twice, again and again until self-loathing was replaced with physical pain.

A number of parties had all decided to venture out this evening, so the General Counting Room was packed with fences. Just like Stella, they were all unaffiliated. As in, they were too crap to get hired by a guild. But unlike her, they actually had clients. Also, they socialised. All trash-talk and gossip, of course.

“I bet she just lost another client.”

“Another one? Has she managed to keep one for more than a month?”

“She’s so useless.”

“What do you expect? She’s a farmer. She doesn’t belong here.”

Stella shot up and slammed her hands on the counter. “I can hear you, you know?”

The other fences looked at her scandalised, as though she was the bad guy. Then they turned away and snickered. Their conversation continued in whispers. Of course, they were still gossiping about her.

Stella lowered herself back into her chair and buried her head in her hands. It wasn’t often that she lost her cool like that. The thing was, their words really got to her because they were right. She was useless, and she’d basically killed her client—she’d deal with the emotional toll of that in the morning over a bottle of cheap vodka.

But worst of all, once the Dungeon Administration and Remuneration Agency found out that another of Stella’s clients was dead, she wouldn’t have a chance at redemption. Her badge would be taken from her and that would be the end of Stella, the idiot farm girl who thought she could be something other than that.

It meant that there was nothing left for her here. This was it. Rock bottom. Just where her parents had told her she’d end up before she left the farm. The only thing waiting for her in this city was for those murderers to come back and demand she process their stuff.

Well, there was one thing she could do to get back at Lofer and his crew.

Stella stood up so suddenly that her chair flew back. She hadn’t intended to grab everyone’s attention, but she had it now. Well, good. They all got to see her fail. A show for the masses. The outsider returning to where she belongs. The villain finally defeated and deciding to peacefully live her life away from the heroes.

She hooked around to the front of the counter and ripped her poster off. Ignoring the gawking and tittering of her soon-to-be former colleagues, she marched towards the exit. She tried to think of something witty to say, but nothing came to mind other than giving them all the finger. Well, that would have to do. They deserved so much worse. As far as Stella was concerned, she was letting them off easy!

When she reached the door, she tried to rile herself up for that one last cathartic release. The whole room watched on in anticipation, waiting to see what drama she would cause. They didn’t speak a single word, but she could tell, just from the mirthful glint in their eyes, that they were looking down on her. Stella slowly raised a hand.

She couldn’t do it. Damn it all to Gul, but their stares were right! She was useless.

Exhaling, she took off her headband, letting her bangs fall over her eyes. She had a rule not to drink on the job but, well, that was pointless now. She stuffed her headband under an armpit and took out her flask. One good sip wasn’t enough; she let the bitter rum burn her tongue. The sensation was unpleasant, but it was familiar. It was comforting.

She slammed opened the door. But she couldn’t leave.

A bare chest blocked her way. A man’s chest, of all things, covered in a horrific pattern of old scars. Her gaze crept up, and a young man grinned down at her with a mouth missing half its teeth.

The man raised his arms in a V shape. In one hand he held an enormous, tattered backpack that spilled crystals whenever he swung it around.

“Victory!” he shouted.

The first thing Stella did was take another sip from her flask. She was certain this was an hallucination and she was too sober to deal with it.

Not getting the reaction he wanted, Wip stood on the tips of his toes and forced his arms even higher. “Vic-tor-y!” he enunciated.

Stella blinked at him, and at last she accepted what was right before her. “Wip, you’re—how—”

Her eyes traced down and she saw something that no amount of alcohol could erase from her mind. She slapped a hand to her eyes and turned away. “Why are you naked?” Stella cried.

“Betrayal,” Wip said matter-of-factly.

“Oh. That’s…” Stella lowered her hand while pointedly keeping her sight trained off of Wip. “I’m glad you’re alive,” she said under her breath.

Wip leaned right into her personal space, causing Stella to flinch back. “Hm? What’s that? I can’t hear you when you talk so softly.”

“I said, go put your loot on the counter,” Stella snapped. Her tail rose up behind her and curled at the end.

Complying, Wip stomped across the room towards Stella’s usual haunt, which was now a sign down. The other fences snickered at him. Wip felt absolutely no shame.

Stella took a breath, stuffed her flask back in her pocket, and slipped her headband back on. Now that she was calm again and her chances of having to flee the city seemed, well, a little less likely, all her stress began to pour off her. She joined Wip a moment later, heart light and back straight.

“Take everything out,” Stella said, resting her sign against the side of the counter. “We’ll sort it all first, count the crystals, then weigh any cores afterwards.” She leaned onto the counter and sighed. “Seriously, do you know how stupid you are? I nearly died from stress today. I thought, for sure, I’d be one client down, and even though you’re not the best client—no, sorry, you’re a terrible client—that doesn’t mean I want to lose you—”

Wip raised his backpack and tipped it upside down. The contents came pouring out. And kept coming. They tumbled off the counter and jingled on the floor. Not just Stella, but the whole room was left utterly speechless.

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Once Wip had finished, he tossed the backpack aside and beamed at Stella, waiting for her to jump with joy at his awesome haul.

“Huh,” Stella said eventually. She picked up one of the crystals and held it up to the light. It was a little longer than her fingertip, a bit thinner, and much flatter. “You know, Wip, I’m actually impressed. In just a few short hours, you managed to collect so much trash.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty good,” Wip said brazenly.

Stella grinned back at him. The swarm of fences were now outright giggling at her and her client. Frankly, she didn’t care what they thought of her anymore.

She hooked a finger around one of the links on Wip’s collar and dragged his head towards her. She shoved the crystal she was holding in front of his face. “What colour is this?” Stella hissed.

Wip blinked at it. “Um, it’s the colour when there is no colour.”

“Exactly. It’s clear! Now for a trick question: how much is it worth?”

“Um, twenty?”

“One! It’s a kin. It’s worth one kin. That’s literally where the name of our currency comes from.”

“It must be important if they named money after it,” Wip said.

Stella clenched her teeth and tried to hold back a string of verbal abuse. “After everything you put me through today, you bring me, what, a couple thousand kin, if that? Why? Why, if you were going to kill so many monsters, wouldn’t you just go down a few more levels and farm monsters that drop more valuable—”

She cut off when something dark shifted in her peripheral vision. She dropped the crystal, released Wip, then sifted through the crystal pile. Once her quarry was revealed, she scooped her hand beneath it and lifted it from the pile with some strain.

The orb was less than a half centimetre in diameter and was far heavier than its same volume in gold. It was smooth despite the dark, swirling texture that lay beneath. No matter which way Stella turned it, the orb showed the same texture. When she looked at it from a different angle, however, the texture shifted violently, like oil rippling across a puddle.

“This is… a small inventory core,” she said. “Wait.”

Stella swept a tidal wave of crystals off the counter and plopped the orb onto the scale. After some more digging, she found the counterweights and placed them on the other tray. The fences had all stopped with their snide remarks and were now standing near the counter, murmuring curiously amongst themselves.

“One hundred and twenty-two grams,” Stella read. “That’s worth… around twelve to fourteen thousand kin.”

Wip puffed out his bare chest. “I guess you think I’m not an idiot now, right?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Stella said dryly. She stared at the scales in complete bafflement. “Small inventory cores can only be found on floor thirteen. In order for you to get one…”

At that moment, she became acutely aware of the pack of feral fences. With a panicked voice, she said, “You must have gone down pretty far with your party members, only for them to tragically die in a gruelling battle against the Bellagryst, which is the monster you had to kill to get this core from.”

Wip cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about, Stella?”

She grabbed Wip’s collar and whispered into his cauliflowered ear. “Idiot! Play along. They’re going to suspect that you killed your party members and stole it from them.”

“But I did kill—”

Stella smothered his mouth. “Oh, my poor client,” she said aloud, making a clumsy show of it. “You must be so traumatised after that awful fight down on floor thirteen that you’ve become delusional! Why don’t you let your wonderful fence”—she lowered her voice and hissed at Wip—“who you’re going to give a high rating to on AdminHub”—she went back to her act—“handle all the boring number stuff for poor, poor you.”

“Wwwts uh rrrtnng?” Wip mumbled into Stella’s hand.

Stella released Wip. The young man twitched his nose at the hint of alcohol on his upper lip.

“But you know,” Stella went on in a considering tone, “even though you’ve collected so many crystals, there just aren’t enough to cover your taxes. The rate is thirty-five percent, and this aftocore is just way too valuable for that rate to be paid with these crystals. I guess the only way to cover your taxes is to sell the crystal.” Stella let out a dramatic sigh. “If only there were some wonderful fences here who didn’t eavesdrop on my conversations. I would happily sell the core to them, maybe even cut them a good deal if they promise to never speak about anything that happened today.”

Another fence raised a hand and said, “I can do thirty percent. I’m Pira ranked. Stella is Kin ranked. That’s why her rate is—”

Stella thrust a finger at the woman. “Don’t believe her, Wip. She’s a lying lissar!”

“But I want you to be my fence,” Wip said to Stella.

The fence Stella had insulted scrunched up her nose before walking away in a huff. The rest of the nosey fences got the hint and shuffled away also. When Wip and Stella had a bit more privacy, Stella’s shoulders slumped and she occupied herself with a kin.

“Listen. I should have helped you find a party. You didn’t know what to look for and, well, given that you’re kind of stupid, you probably didn’t know what a carrion crow was.” She took a deep breath. “What I’m saying is that this is my f… fault,” she managed.

“Nah.”

Stella narrowed her eyes at Wip. “What do you mean, ‘Nah?’”

Wip scratched at the skin around his collar. “I just wanted to be a proper dungeoneer, so I took the first party I could find. I guess I just wanted to show off. That makes it my fault.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They stood there in awkward silence for a while. Wip didn’t know how to handle this sort of conversation and Stella didn’t want to handle it. But eventually, Stella stopped fiddling with the crystals and said what she needed to.

“From now on, I want you to introduce me to your new party members. If I say they’re bad, they’re out. In fact, I’ll help you find some. And in return, I want you to get me some proper loot. I’ll even tell you where to find some of it.”

Wip considered this for a moment. He peered at the orb sitting balancing on the scale. “Can I have the black ball?”

“No, you can’t have the black ball,” Stella said dryly.

“But it’s really cool!”

“That’s exactly why you can’t have it.”

“But—”

“Look, it’s just the way things are around here. I hate it too, but we have to do what we must to get by. If you want to change the rules, then get so damned strong that even the Emperor will fear you. Sound good?”

Wip pouted. “I guess.”

Satisfied with his answer, Stella held her hand out to shake, to seal their deal. Wip stared at her hand, confused.

“Hold my hand, Wip,” Stella said.

He did as he was instructed, and Stella taught him how to shake hands.

They held that position for an awkward while. Stella’s eyes traced downwards. That was when she remembered she was talking to a naked man. She shrieked and slapped his hand away.

“But first go buy some clothes!” Stella cried.

Wip flashed his half-missing teeth. “Can’t. No money,” Wip teased.

“Then go earn—” Stella buried her head in her palm. She’d responded out of habit, not even realising she had a pile of money sitting in front of her. She grabbed a handful of crystals and tossed them at Wip. “Go get a party, Wip. Now!”