A Safe Hearth and a Loaded Bargain

"What do you think, Bennett? Isn't this place pretty great?"

"It is," Bennett replied, scanning the perimeter with a practiced eye.

"There's easily enough room for training out here."

"And it's not far from the downtown district, either. A short walk gets you right to the market."

It was not directly adjacent to the bustling commercial strip, of course. It was merely far closer than the dilapidated hovel they had lived in before. In truth, living right against the main thoroughfare was something Bennett deliberately avoided; if enemies attempted an ambush or kept the house under surveillance, the endless foot traffic would make it nearly impossible to spot them. In a quieter residential neighborhood, on the other hand, even a couple of unfamiliar faces lingering about immediately stood out.

In that regard, this property struck an ideal balance. Running out for groceries and supplies took barely ten ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠minutes, yet virtually no one wandered past the gate on an ordinary day.

Beyond its location, the house itself was exceptional. Though originally an older structure, the previous owner had poured considerable coin into gutting and rebuilding it from the foundation up. It boasted a spacious yard bordered by high stone walls, shielding the interior completely from prying eyes on the street. In an emergency, one could take refuge in the reinforced basement cellar or slip away through the concealed rear exit. For someone with a bloody vendetta like Bennett, having solid contingency plans when things went sideways was non-negotiable.

"We'll take it," Bennett told the broker.

"An excellent choice, sir!"

Once the paperwork was finalized, they began moving immediately. The task proved remarkably painless thanks to the Sub-space Pouch, which swallowed up their possessions in bulk. Unpacking and arranging furniture took a bit of elbow grease, but with Bella pitching in by his side, they wrapped up far earlier than expected. The only new additions to the household were several pieces of heavy training equipment Bennett had purchased for his regimen.

"Thanks for the meal, brother!"

Having finished eating across from him, Bella stepped out into the courtyard for a light evening stroll, leaving Bennett to enjoy a moment of quiet solitude.

Bennett focused on the prompt to bring up detailed descriptions of each choice.

Arabic?

Learning another tongue from the dungeon world was an intriguing prospect, but he doubted it would offer immediate utility. Earth possessed a dizzying multitude of disparate dialects rather than a single unified tongue, making a random language gamble precarious. Ingestion Efficiency sounded neat on paper, yet it hardly struck him as an ability worthy of an urgent pick.

After brief deliberation, Bennett selected Immunity Enhancement.

The concept of "immunity" felt slightly clinical and unfamiliar, but building resistance against wound rot and shaving even a sliver off his recovery time made it an easy, practical investment for a survivor.

Come to think of it...

His Flash Sprint had upgraded to Level 2 while slaughtering the cultists serving the Corrupted Religious Ruler, but he had not yet had the chance to inspect its upgraded parameters. He tapped the entry to view its details.

Where it had previously been capped at three activations daily, he could now unleash it five times. The extended range was an enormous bonus. Considering how often Flash Sprint had saved his skin or turned the tide in brutal engagements, Bennett could not be more pleased with the growth.

"I'm heading out for a bit," Bennett called out toward the yard.

"Again?!"

Bella puffed out her cheeks in mock grievance, but Bennett simply fastened his coat, unfazed. He knew full well she was merely teasing.

"Don't wait up for me. Go to sleep early."

Leaving the house, Bennett made his way toward a tavern situated in the city's commercial quarter. Unlike the discreet, high-class lounge where he had met Sasha, this was an unpretentious, reasonably priced pub boasting a rowdy, relaxed atmosphere.

"Bennett-nim!"

"Right on time."

Greeting his party right outside the entrance, Bennett led them inside. Once they had tucked themselves into a booth tucked away from the main crowd, Bennett glanced across the table at Erika.

"Erika."

"Ah, right! Silence."

A translucent barrier rippled outward from Erika's fingertips, expanding until it enclosed their booth. It was an acoustic dampening ward designed to prevent sound from carrying beyond its perimeter. While devoid of defensive capability, it was an indispensable spell whenever one wished to discuss sensitive matters without drawing inquisitive ears.

"Here are the proceeds from selling the Drake Family expedition gear."

"Whoa!"

The share was considerably heftier than expected. Having stripped the corpses of three knights, three squires, and two combat mages down to their boots, the salvage hauled in enough coin to leave each party member holding a small ingot of solid gold. With such an unexpected windfall clinking in their purses, bright grins broke out across their faces.

"I will be discussing terms regarding the salvaged pistols with the dwarves shortly," Bennett remarked. "Do any of you wish to accompany me to the negotiating table?"

"No need for that, surely," Kyle said, waving a dismissive hand.

"None of us understand the dwarves half as well as you do, Bennett-nim."

"He's completely right, Boss! We all know you'll squeeze every copper out of 'em!"

Edgar boomed in agreement, and Erika nodded along with equal fervor. Seeing their absolute confidence in him, Bennett kept his reply brief.

"I'll secure the highest possible price."

"Hahaha! That's what I'm talking about!"

With official business concluded, the conversation shifted toward casual banter. Edgar and Erika took the lead in chattering away, while Kyle chimed in with cheerful interjections. Bennett contributed only the occasional remark or nod, yet none of them mistook his reticence for disinterest. Having bled alongside him through several harrowing crawls, they knew his quiet countenance masked an alert mind that registered every single detail.

"Um, Bennett-nim," Kyle spoke up hesitantly, waiting for a lull in the laughter.

"What is it?"

"Would it be all right if we sat out the very next dungeon expedition?"

Bennett shifted his full attention to the young swordsman. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠"Is there a reason?"

"To be frank, fighting the Drake Family squad made me realize just how inadequate my current strength is. Now that I have spare funds from our spoils, I intend to purchase and consume an elixir to expand my reserves."

It was a sound, sensible choice. Kyle possessed remarkable swordsmanship honed by disciplined practice, yet his limited mana pool placed a hard ceiling on his combat endurance. If an elixir unlocked greater mana manipulation, his frontline potency would skyrocket. That, in turn, would significantly lighten Bennett's operational burden when facing formidable adversaries.

"And I'm planning to drag Edgar into taking one as well," Kyle added.

"A wise decision. We'll skip the upcoming cycle and enter the dungeon after that."

"Thank you, Bennett-nim."

Taking advantage of the relaxed mood, Bennett voiced a curiosity he had harbored for some time.

"By the way... how did you two end up together?"

"Ah, you mean Edgar and me?" Kyle smiled self-consciously, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, we're just childhood friends."

"Friends?"

"After our noble house collapsed, my family had to relocate to the commoner district. This fellow happened to be living right next door. We traded punches the first time we met, but somewhere along the line, we ended up thick as thieves."

"Is that so."

Even after losing their titles and fortune, very few fallen nobles could stomach mingling freely with commoners. Most clung desperately to the delusion that blue blood still set them apart, harboring an absurd arrogance tied to long-faded glories. Kyle's lineage hailed from a prestigious northern fencing clan of considerable renown, yet he possessed none of that shallow pretension. He was candid, unassuming, and humble—qualities rare enough to draw quiet respect even from Bennett, who had crossed paths with plenty of pompous lords and royals in his mercenary days.

"Remarkable," Bennett murmured.

"Truth be told, I had my reservations at first," Kyle confessed with a faint smile. "But Edgar is genuinely a good man. When I was drowning in despair and wandering aimlessly, he did everything he could to understand and pull me out of it... I couldn't help but be grateful."

Edgar might have been rough around the edges and prone to causing a ruckus, but at his core, he was steadfast and fiercely loyal. Bennett reflected once again that he had assembled an exceptional vanguard.

"All right, let's call it a night."

Night had deepened outside. In high spirits, the party settled the tab and filed out into the cool evening air.

"Eheheh, Bennett-nim! You know how much I look up to you, right?! I freakin' loooove you, man!"

"...Someone had better look after him."

"Haha, don't worry about a thing, Bennett-nim. I'll haul him home safely."

Despite his towering, barbarian-like frame, Edgar held his liquor worse than anyone else in the group. Chuckling, Kyle slung his stuporous friend's arm over his shoulder and began hauling him away down the cobblestone road.

Bennett turned to depart, only to pause. Erika was still lingering behind on the pavement. A rosy flush dusted her cheeks from the alcohol, and she was nervously fidgeting with her hands, clearly working up the nerve to speak.

"Is something wrong?"

"Um, there's... something I wanted to ask..." Erika stammered, biting her lower lip before pressing on. "I'm working on a research topic right now, and it touches on mercenary practices. Since you spent so many years in that trade, Bennett-nim... I was wondering if I could consult you for some advice?"

Bennett gave an easy nod. "Of course."

"Really? It won't take very long. Probably?"

A short while later, the two arrived at Erika's residence. Stepping inside ahead of him, Erika hesitated for a fraction of a second before suddenly turning and burying herself into Bennett's chest. Bennett ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠naturally wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

The heat of their bodies radiated through their garments. Their lips met in an urgent, searing kiss, parting only for their tongues to tangle and seek each other with feverish desire.

"Ah..."

By the time they broke apart to catch their breath, Erika's gaze had gone hazy with lust. Her face flushed a deep, feverish crimson, her chest heaving rapidly as she fought for air. Bennett reached down and peeled away her outer clothing with steady hands. Shaken from her daze, Erika let out a ragged gasp and hurriedly helped strip away his jacket and shirt in return.

Soon, Erika's bare form was laid bare.

Her pale, delicate skin seemed to shimmer softly in the dim shadows of the bedchamber. She was slender, almost fragile, stirring an instinctual urge to protect and possess. Bennett scooped her up into his arms and carried her straight toward the bed.

Having received Balduin's summons, Bennett headed toward the dwarven workshop. Heavy-set dwarven warriors clad in thick plate and armed with repeating crossbows and serrated polearms were stationed outside, guarding the building with iron vigilance.

Pedestrians passing through the district eyed the heavily armored demi-humans with curiosity, but none dared approach or exchange words with such an imposing barricade.

As Bennett drew near, the dwarven sentries snapped their attention toward him in unison.

"Halt, human!"

A burly dwarf who appeared to be the squad captain stepped forward, blocking his path with an outstretched gauntlet. "This area is off-lim—"

The guard's gaze dropped, locking directly onto the silhouette of the Shooting Star concealed beneath Bennett's coat. Despite being tucked out of view, the dwarf recognized the custom masterwork in a heartbeat.

Realizing that this was the very human their superiors had arranged to meet, the guard promptly swallowed his warning and stepped aside.

"...Go on in."

Though the blunt, informal tone might have grated on another man's nerves, Bennett took no offense. He knew all too well that this gruff demeanor was simply second nature to dwarven kind.

Balduin was the exact same when we first crossed paths.

Inside, the workshop had been tidied with uncharacteristic precision. The usual chaotic mountain of scrap iron, blueprints, and soot-stained tools was nowhere to be seen. More notably, the proprietor himself was nowhere in sight.

"Are you Bennett?"

Occupying Balduin's usual seat was an elderly dwarf.

He possessed a neatly trimmed, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dark brown beard that rested impeccably against his chest. Surprisingly, he was dressed in a tailored Earth-style three-piece suit—a fashion trend that had recently taken root among high-ranking human circles in the Dungeon City.

"Bennett Collins," he introduced himself evenly.

"I am Dorkan, Chamberlain of the Royal Court. I have been entrusted with overseeing these negotiations. I hear you are a close friend of Balduin's?"

"That is correct."

"Then we can hardly call each other strangers, can we? I happen to be the lad's kin. Hahaha!"

He might have been Balduin's kin, but he was certainly no relation of Bennett's.

"Let us begin the negotiations," Bennett said coolly.

"Ahem! Straight to business, are we? Very well."