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  The Dwarven Barge was separated into three different layers. The above deck, which served for all things training, public gathering related and generally things that should be done under the light of day. The second level was composed of simple living quarters. A mess hall that doubled as a kitchen and the general sleeping quarters –adventurers having set up their own tents in small groups with their own parties.

  The sub level was where all the waste went.

  The bathroom, the food scraps and generally served as storage.

  It’s also where Clover chose to set up her tent.

  In a way, it suited her. The Clover that I knew was gone; replaced by a sickly girl with a skeletal frame with no hint of laughter on her face. When I had met her, she had been on the curvier side with round cheeks that made people want to pinch her. Now, she just looked gaunt and slim. Oh, she still turned heads everywhere she went. Those curves were only accentuated by the weight loss.

  But whereas before she exuberated all the cheerful things of a rich girl on a trip, or even the panic of someone way out of their depth… she had none of that anymore. It was like her body was just a haunting memory of who she had once been or could have been –someone full of life, abundance and happiness. While the other members of her party often conversed with other expedition members –even Arione– Clover mostly kept to herself.

  All the time.

  I descended the Barge quickly, my feet having no trouble transversing the steep stairs. I had to give it to the dwarves, for the limited amount of time they had, everything was flawless. Briefly, I wondered if there was a combination of stats that allowed Dwarves to know if something was level or not. Probably a combination of [Sight] and [Proprioception].

  Before I could gather my thoughts, I heard her voice which sent something akin to half a dozen needles pricking my heart.

  “-meant to divide us. Typical Turinan tactics.” Her voice rebounded off the wooden walls right before she turned the corner, our eyes meeting at the same time.

  This sub-level was divided into waste management and the kitchen storage place –just two large sprawling places. Clover had set up her tent between them.

  And I just saw her and her party exit the tent altogether.

  Of course, how could I have been so stupid.

  Arione would have done the same thing I would have. He would have relayed what happened in the meeting with Zenom and the others to his own party.

  And I’d just walked in on them.

  My senses immediately went on high alert.

  Arione’s eyes widened and he pointed a finger at me. “Clover? Was Lock listening in on us? Did we just catch him in the act?!” He said dramatically.

  It had been awhile since Arione had fallen back to his fake persona. Or perhaps this weeaboo-extrovert persona was his real one. Either way, I ignored him as did the rest of his party.

  “It’s nice…. to see you again… Lock.” said a strangely familiar voice.

  I looked next to Arione to see a slender young elf teenager who had grown by atleast two hands since I’d last seen him.

  “You’ve grown.” I said simply.

  When I had first met Scarlet, the young mage looked no older than thirteen.

  Now, Scarlet had lost a lot of that boyish charm which was replaced by the awkwardness of a lanky teen. But it was masked by the mage robes he wore, which hid most of his arms. But my enhanced senses picked up how unsteady he was –like a baby deer just learning how to walk. He wasn’t an adventurer, my senses told me, he was a mage who was in the middle of a growth spurt and would make make mistakes if pressed.

  The awkwardness of puberty hadn’t quite reached his face and I doubted it would. All elves in MSS were designed to be good looking.

  Trust me. There’s a Stat for [Beauty] and most Elves are almost maxed out.

  I know, I was surprised too. But back when I played the game, Cores with the [Beauty] stat for it were a good way to make money. You could sell them to rich NPCs who wanted to beautify themselves or their spouses.

  Or their slaves.

  I quickly emptied that trail of thought. Not while the Turinans were above deck. No, this wasn’t the time.

  He smiled somewhat shyly. “You… still speak… the same.”

  “Hahahaha, he does, does he not?” Lety chimed in, putting an arm over Maria’s shoulder.

  “So he always spoke this way?” Maria Akka Xalud casually pushed L’teya’s arms off of her. The motion came easy to her, like they were old friends going through a routine. “All dry and… empty?”

  I frowned and ignored them all, turning to Clover. “I’d like to talk.”

  “Oh yes.” L’teya said. “Just like this. When I first met him-”

  “You can say what you want right now, Lock. With my party members here.” Clover interrupted.

  Maria settled back on her haunches. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

  Seeing Arione and Clover’s party like this made me feel all sorts of complicated emotions.

  Like…

  Like this was exactly what I should have had instead.

  If I had gotten out of the Samak Horde and everything had worked out with L’teya and Clover, was this similar to what that party would have looked like?

  I quickly steeled myself.

  “Clover.” I said, putting a bit more urgency in my voice. “In private.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you, Lock.” Clover said.

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  L’teya frowned but didn’t say anything. Arione was the one who stepped in.

  “Whoa, if you want to talk to my healer-chan-” when he added the suffix to Clover, I just snapped with annoyance.

  “Shut up.” My voice came out like an iron whip and it made Arione narrow his eyes in reply.

  For a moment, Arione and I held that tension; neither of us refusing to back down.

  Then Clover softly touched Arione’s arm. Infinitely more intimate than I had ever seen her do so with someone. More than Lety. More than me.

  “Go watch Borealis and Zenom play. See if they slip up and show anything useful.” Clover muttered.

  Arione audibly growled, unwilling to part.

  “Go ahead,” I said, my voice softer than Clover’s had been. “Run along.”

  I stopped myself from adding ‘bitch’ at the end.

  “Lock.” Clover said, a warning in her voice.

  “This is fun.” Maria muttered.

  Lety just looked between all of us, not knowing what to do.

  Then the tension broke like glass.

  “Let us be on our way.” Arrosh’s voice cut through everything, leaving no doubt as to what would happen.

  Arrosh, whose presence had been near undetectable due to his small stature and lack of words stepped forward, his cane clicking against the wood. I felt, rather than see, Maria flinch at the sound and take a step away from the elderly orc. Then in a way that only those with advanced senses could notice, Maria rubbed her ribs. I noticed it immediately, my hearing and scent and sight all homing in on the potential weakness.

  Even Arione flinched as Arrosh passed by him.

  My sword master looked tired somehow. He looked even more hunched, more shriveled up than normal.

  For a split instance, I felt a pang of guilt ring hollow in my chest. Arrosh had joined Arione’s party for this quest just for me, knowing that somewhere down the line they might decide to bury a dagger in my back. The blind orc served as my eyes. And they knew it too.

  I could only imagine how much stress he was under.

  As Arrosh walked by me, he put a hand on my shoulder and my emotions almost burst free. I wanted to ask him a hundred different questions.

  But he simply walked by, having done for me what needed to be done.

  He was always like that.

  “See you, Slaveborn.” Lety said, giving me an earnest look before following after the orc swordmaster. Maria hurried and Scarlet followed on their heels.

  Then, only Clover and I were left.

  She sighed, crossing her arms. “You don’t need to lash out at him like that. If you just help him save face in front of our party-”

  “Don’t.” I shook my head without meaning to and the words came out more tired than I had intended. “Just… don’t.”

  Why was it that everytime that I was in front of Clover and Arione, everything went to shit?

  Moods turned sour, good intentions turned to suspicion and there was nothing but this empty pit of darkness that sucked in everything from the pit of chest. And I already knew that after this conversation, my whole mood would be ruined for the rest of the day.

  ‘You’re too personally involved with them.’ A voice whispered in my head.

  It was true. There was… too much emotional attachment there. Too much history. No matter how much I tried to keep it professional, it would be impossible.

  Ha. Now I understood why I kept getting backstabbed when I was playing MSS. I treated it like a game. Those NPCs who betrayed me… they had emotions. History. Their own will. It wasn’t just an AI making A or B choices. Every emotion, every action and every word had been a clue to their humanity –no, their mortality. That we adventurers live such fleeting lives precisely because of those emotions. Jealousy, hate, resentment…

  And I beat the game precisely because I didn’t let it get to me.

  Breathing in deeply, I cut to the heart of the matter. “You heard what was discussed during the meeting.”

  “Turinans are skilled at such tactics.” Clover said in reply. She shivered. Down here, the chill of the ocean was nearer than the upper-levels where it was closer to the Sun. “Meant to divide us and at the same time, try to sniff out who the traitor might be.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Futile.” Clover said and a pale ghost of a smile flitted on her lips. “There’s no one here that would jeopardize the expedition in such a way. They’re chasing ghosts.”

  Of course, she would never say our true goal on the boat. Not while ears could be listening. What we were doing now, it could be just signed off to adventurers looking for advice. It wouldn’t seem strange, especially with Arione’s title of Grade-2 Mage. He was a powerful asset and I had no doubt it wasn’t just me that would be concerned with whether Arione’s party would continue on this quest or not. Just for different reasons.

  “So your party will be continuing.” I said flatly.

  “Is there another choice?” Clover eyed me. “It’s too late to turn back. We’re halfway there. Not to mention the resources that were poured into this expedition. No matter what the church pays us, it’ll be a net-zero investment.”

  “Sunk cost fallacy.” I said immediately, thinking of my old college classes.

  She raised an eyebrow in recognition. Figures that a merchant’s daughter would know what it was. She got my point right away.

  “Ah. I see what you’re asking.” She muttered.

  The pink-haired beastwoman sighed, standing up straight again. “My party is backed by a powerful investor. No matter how much we write off as a loss, she won’t be satisfied until this expedition is seen through.”

  Clover was talking about Oung. That was really the only thing I needed to confirm and Clover had just done it. Backing out now wasn’t an option.

  “You’re not the type to back down so one has to wonder why you’re asking this question in the first place.” Clover took a step towards me, all bones and curves. She looked up at me, her pink hair accentuating one of her eyes which looked like a lamb’s. Her head tilted, studying me then something set her on course –like a shark seeking prey. The expression was one of realization, like she figured something out.

  “It matters not.” I tried to turn away but she grabbed me by the shoulders.

  “Look at me.” The Kagura whispered.

  Her breath was hot cinnamon, washing over me with the weight of perfume and for a second.

  She held the silence for only a second more, and with trembling lips, said, “Were you going to abandon all of us again?”

  Her words washed over me like winter frost and it made my spine so utterly still with indignant shock. Then came the boiling hot rage that I kept bottled within, which I swore just moments ago to control myself. That night, so long ago when everything was burning. People screaming. And she was telling me that I’d abandoned her?

  “Don’t you dare fucking play the victim.” I spat, shocked at the hot venom in my own voice. “You’re the one who-”

  Clover’s face was as still as an ice sculpture in the face of my anger. Her pale skin made her look almost ethereal in a way even then in the flickering mage-lights that surrounded the halls.

  “Victim? Victim?” She hissed and she actually pushed me against the wall with surprising strength. I didn’t even resist. “You had a choice, Slaveborn for better or worse. And you made it for the worse for everyone, and better for you.” She spat my chosen name like a curse, her lips moving quicker than before, spitting words. “And you come to me, to me of all people, asking if there’s a way out? Of course, you would look for the way out. You would-”

  “Look for the way out?” I snarled, “How have you become so twisted to become like this? You and L’teya could have come with me. You’re the one who chose to go with Arione.”

  “I was locked in a Contract,” She insisted and then let go of my shoulders, shoving me in the chest. “And while I was mingling with Scions, smiling at them to save Lety; you were having fun stealing all their Cores. Because that’s all you had in your head from day one. Looking out for yourself, growing stronger; not carying if the rest of us can-

  “So you chose to slaughter innocent Orcs? They were-”

  “I was fighting back against our slavers-”

  “-People with families. Women, children. Who’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “They stripped Lety naked and dressed her like some whore for show!”

  “You can’t see past your own fucking faults or admit them, that’s why!” I finally yelled, overpowering her and slamming her against the wall.

  The frail beastwoman slammed against it and crumpled down like an empty sack.

  Slowly, she raised her face a fraction of an inch. Her hair had come undone, the pink strands splitting her face into a panorama of emotions. Guilt, shame. Hate. Everything and more.

  I just stood there, looking at her. My body actually heaved with the breaths I was taking.

  And I hated the fact that even in that moment, I could see how her robes hugged her figure in just the right places. I hated the way her bust shook with her shuddering gasps and that when she moved, my eyes were drawn to her unwillingly. I hated it.

  I wanted to get out of here.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” I said finally, a bit calmer than before. I willed stiffness in myself again. I wasn’t Han, the emotional salaryman stuck in a game. I was Lock Slaveborn, adventurer, warrior and a party leader. There was a need for me to keep it together. “The expedition will continue.”

  “Good.” She whispered. “Because the moment you decide otherwise, I think Zenom would be very interested in knowing about acid burns.”

  Clover had never threatened me before. No, not on a personal level. She’d relayed Oung’s threats or messages, if that. But never like this.

  Calm. Stay Calm.

  “Now, please leave.”

  So I did.