They drove back toward town immediately, parking in a wide lot reserved for caravan trains and merchant convoys. Once settled, Iona got a view of the expanded interior, earning a soft, reverent gasp, before heading toward the guild hall to turn in the quest.
The guild was busy, but the receptionist spotted Iona almost immediately.
“Iona?!” The woman’s voice shot up an octave. “By the gods, you’re alive!”
She vaulted halfway over the counter, grabbing Iona by the shoulders and turning her side to side as if checking for missing limbs. Her gaze snapped to James next.
“You, you’re the one who saved her?”
James barely had time to nod before she seized his arm with both hands.
“Thank you,” she said fervently. “You have no idea how…”
James gently but firmly extricated himself. “Happy to help. Could we… do the hand-off?”
The receptionist blinked, then laughed awkwardly, snapping back into place behind the counter. “Right, yes, sorry. I’m Mirelle. Guild attendant. Forms, tallies, yelling at reckless idiots who go out alone.”
She shot Iona a look sharp enough to cut glass.
“I told you not to take on solo quests near monster zones.”
“I thought I could handle it,” Iona muttered, shrinking slightly.
Mirelle sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You never think.”
She turned back to James, gratitude back in full force, though thankfully at a safer distance this time. “Still, thank you. Truly.”
James motioned to the kids. “Herbs are here.”
Luke and Jessie dropped their rucksacks onto the counter. Mirelle’s expression flipped from concern to pure professionalism so fast it was almost impressive. She inspected the bundles, tapped a slate, and nodded.
“Quality’s good and you brought back a fair amount." her eyebrow raised, "Let me process your payment.”
James felt a wave of relief. He was more than ready to be done with the guild hall for the day.
He caught himself thinking, this stuff is fun in stories, but living inside it is exhausting.
He glanced at Christine, who gave him a knowing look.
Yeah. They were definitely going to need rules of their own.
While Mirelle sorted through the herbs, a sudden swell of noise rolled across the guild hall, cheers, groans, and the unmistakable hum of something expensive at work.
James glanced toward the sound.
In a far corner they hadn’t explored yet, a dense crowd had gathered around what could only be described as a monumental gumball machine, if a gumball machine had been designed by an archmage with a gambling problem.
The thing stood nearly ten feet tall, its stone-and-metal base anchored like a shrine. Gold and brass trim framed its body, worn smooth by countless hands, engraved with runes that pulsed faintly with inner light. At its crown sat a massive clear glass globe, filled with glowing capsules, enchanted orbs that drifted, bumped, and spun as if alive.
Neon marquee lights ran up the sides, warm and inviting, clashing beautifully with the arcane glow that leaked from its seams.
At its center were three traditional slot reels, only instead of fruit or numbers, the icons were unmistakably magical: crowns, dragons, spell glyphs, lucky stars. Words flickered between them: Weapon, Armor, Accessory, Skill, and the ever-suspicious ???. The final reel displayed a letter grade, spinning between F and SSS.
An ornate side lever, carved with spiraling sigils, glowed softly as an adventurer fed a gold coin into a slot, the sound of the coin entering the machine made a audible thunk and then the adventure pulled.
The reels spun.
Above, the enchanted orbs inside the globe began to whirl wildly, clacking together like excited fireflies.
“What’s going on over there?” Nikki asked.
Mirelle barely looked up. “Oh, someone’s jackpot use reset. It’s a weekly thing. Costs a gold per pull, so only the brave or stupid try it. Some people save all week just for one spin.”
A roar of mixed cheers and boos erupted from the crowd.
“People also bet on the outcome,” she added dryly.
The reels locked.
Weapon. Weapon. B.
From the glass globe above, a single orb dropped, glowing brightly as it rolled down a chute into the prize hatch.
The winner, a massive man built like a professional linebacker, all golden hair and broad shoulders, lifted the orb overhead as the crowd cheered. With a grin, he crushed it between his hands.
Light flared.
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A dagger shimmered into existence.
The cheering died instantly.
A few scattered chuckles followed.
The man stared at the dagger. His face flushed red. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He spun and slammed his fist into the machine.
The response was immediate.
A sharp alarm tone rang out, and the crowd scattered just in time as an invisible force detonated outward. The man was hurled backward nearly twenty feet, skidding across the stone floor in a very undignified sprawl.
Floating text appeared inside the great glass globe above:
SYSTEM NOTICE
1-MONTH BAN APPLIED: Jaxen
No one laughed this time.
James swallowed. “So… it enforces its own rules.”
Mirelle finally looked up, expression flat. “Very strictly.”
The Arcane Jackpot hummed softly, lights steady once more, patient, enticing, and very clearly not to be challenged.
James shook his head. “A gold coin is practically a few hundred dollars’ worth, more if you melt it down for the metal. I’d be mad too,” he muttered.
The man who’d been blasted across the hall staggered to his feet, dignity in ruins, and stalked toward the guild’s bar area, clearly intent on drinking his frustration into submission.
“Honestly, he gets banned pretty frequently,” Mirelle said, unfazed. “Can’t keep his temper in check.”
“Could’ve just waited a week,” Luke said. “That dagger will probably earn him his money back at auction. A B-rank weapon still goes for a few gold to the right buyer.”
Luke’s eyes widened as the implication hit him. You could practically see the numbers spinning behind them.
Mirelle nodded. “Most items D-rank and above from the Jackpot are rare, sometimes even unique. He just wanted something for himself. People who play smart usually flip the reward at auction instead.”
“When are auctions held?” James asked.
“Once a month. Usually at the local branch but sometimes special venues are used.”
James frowned. “That’s… not exactly fast liquidity.” But he could see a potential investment opportunity.
“It isn’t,” Mirelle agreed. “That’s why most people don’t play. It’s a complete gamble, which scares people. And the ??? outcome…” She shrugged. “That can be literally anything. If it rolls E or F, it’s usually scrap, novelty gear, or worse.”
As if summoned by the explanation, another adventurer stepped up to the machine and fed in a gold coin. The lever was pulled.
The reels spun.
The crowd leaned in.
???. ???. E.
A sharp trumpet blast echoed through the hall.
A goblin burst into existence in a flash of warped light, landing in the middle of the crowd with a wet thud. It leered, screeched, and lunged toward the poor soul who had pulled the lever.
It didn’t get far.
Steel flashed as weapons were drawn. The goblin was obliterated in seconds.
Mirelle sighed. “See? That happens too.”
James stared at the blood-splattered stone floor. “You just… summon monsters indoors?”
“We don’t move the machines,” she said. “We can’t. They resist relocation, that’s why we build the guild halls around them. There are rumors some nobles have them as well.”
“That seems… unsafe,” Jessie said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Mirelle replied. “Your timer resets the same no matter how many machines you have access to. Once per week. Even if you somehow owned or had access to multiple, you’d still only get one pull.”
“At least that keeps it fair,” Christine said.
Mirelle snorted. “As far as we know.” James added, “The wealthy always find ways around systems, servants, proxies, hired hands under supervision. Enough gold, enough bodies, and you can make a small fortune. Money will always make the world go round.”
James watched another adventurer step forward, gold coin already in hand, eyes shining with hope and poor judgment.
“…Yeah,” he said quietly. “This world really is built by a sadistic game designer.”
Mirelle cleared her throat. “Your quest reward,” she said, placing a small leather satchel onto a metal tray and sliding it across the counter.
James opened it and counted quickly. Two silver and ten copper. Not terrible, but not generous either. His mind immediately started running numbers: food, parking for the RV, potential lodging, fuel, incidentals. Survival math, just in a different currency.
Mirelle leaned closer, lowering her voice. “A word of warning.”
James looked up.
“Be careful what you say about the nobles,” she continued. “The Guild protects us where it can. We help adventurers move freely between territories, even across borders. But if you offend the wrong family…” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “There’s no limit to how unpleasant they can make your life. Even if you escape their lands.”
James inclined his head slightly. “Thank you for the warning. We don’t plan on running in noble circles, if we can help it.”
She gave a tight, knowing smile.
On the way back to the RV, James scanned the market stalls, quietly taking mental notes of prices. Fresh bread, dried meats, herbs, water, and a few staples for the dogs, it all added up faster than he expected. By the time they reached their parking spot, he had a rough estimate: feeding the five of them, plus Luna and Ruby, would cost a lot.
Even eating frugally, they were looking at ten gold or more just for a year’s worth of food, and that didn’t include things like basic supplies, fuel for the RV, or potions. Small quests would help cover it, but anything beyond “gather herbs” or low-level hunting carried real risk. Slaying or culling missions paid more, but one wrong move could cost more than they gained. James mused that they’d need a safe “grind spot” first, something low-risk to build stats and levels before attempting higher-stakes jobs.
As they arrived at the RV, Iona piped up. “You all really do live in that?”
James turned, startled. “You’re still here? I thought we left you at the guild!”
Iona tilted her head, putting on her most pleading puppy-dog expression. She barely came up to James and Christine’s shoulders. “I thought I could travel with you.”
James exhaled, putting on his firm Dad face. “Nope. We’re at capacity, space is tight, and we only have enough food for a few nights. There’s no room for extras right now.”
He softened slightly, giving her a sympathetic look. “Maybe later we can revisit it, but for now, we just can’t.”
Iona slumped, dragging her feet away. “Okay… bye,” she muttered, her sad expression making James feel a little guilty, even if he knew it was the right call.
As they settled near the RV, James pulled out a notebook and started a ledger. The herbs they’d gathered earlier, basic “fetch quest” material, were worth about 2 copper per bunch, and between Luke, Jessie, and Iona they’d collected roughly 50 bunches. That totaled 1 gold coin, that they split with Iona, she did help. Not bad for a few hours’ work, but it wouldn’t last long. the economy in this place was tied to the coins and he was still figuring it all out.
He started to run the numbers in his head:
Daily food cost: 5 silver, 1 silver per person, five people including himself, Christine, and the kids
Weekly food cost: 35 silver, or 3.5 gold
Monthly food cost: approximately 15 gold
With this, they could stretch basic meals without immediately going broke, but it was still enough to make him plan carefully. Herbs alone weren’t going to cover it, they’d need a mix of safer monster hunts or side hustles...quests for extra income.
He glanced at the RV and the dogs. “At least we’ve got shelter. We just need to sort out mana-stone fuel to save on travel costs. But we’ll need a plan, a predictable grind path to make ends meet.”
Luke perked up. “So we just… farm herbs all day?”
“Temporarily,” James said, rubbing his chin. “Until we can safely handle low-risk monsters or find repeatable side quests. Otherwise, we’re stretching every coin and hoping we don’t get into trouble.”
Jessie groaned. “Great… ‘grind herbs for life.’”
James smirked. “Welcome to your new fantasy life. Don’t worry, I’m not letting anyone die on my watch.”
Meanwhile, Iona sulked a little in the background. James kept her at a safe distance, not for lack of goodwill, but there simply wasn’t enough food, space, or supplies to take her in right now.
