"Stop crying already. A grown man making a scene everywhere. The demon hunters from Gion Kingdom are coming."

Li Site looked at Archer's drunken mess of a state. Forget about fighting, the man could barely climb onto a bed. Fortunately, after years together, he'd mastered the right passcode.

Archer's blood ran cold at the words. He struggled to stand by leaning on the stone chair, unfastened the strap on his back, and drew out an unusually shaped heavy weapon.

This weapon was called a kukri, somewhat resembling an oversized Nepalese curved knife.

Li Site had heard Archer say he never received any combat training. Before becoming head chef, he'd just spent days and nights processing meat ingredients - skinning, deboning, gutting. Years of this had made him able to butcher cattle blindfolded.

Gion Kingdom had a famous dish of monkey meat. To Archer, cutting people was no different from cutting monkeys. Other combat techniques he picked up naturally after a few fights - a true natural talent.

Being a chef wasn't just about skill either. Without arm strength, you couldn't handle meals for dozens or hundreds of people.

Archer once thought being sous chef was miserable. Never imagined being head chef would be worse. Less than six months in, he was forced to "go to sea." Used to handling motionless ingredients, now he had to handle moving ones.

"Where are they?"

Archer's adrenaline spiked, his liver metabolism kicking into overdrive as he sobered up considerably.

"Nowhere. I lied to you. Keep your eyes sharp - people might die soon."

Li Site said this because if Archer kept drinking like this, one day he'd get his throat slit by thieves without even realizing it. Not that this dog could ever quit.

Fen urged the informant to lead the way quickly before things changed.

Linden City wasn't small. This wasn't the time to skimp on taxi fare.

The group boarded a carriage pulled by two chocobos - birds resembling ostriches but much larger, with thicker neck and leg muscles, feathers mostly dark green or blue. While inferior to horses for long distances, their sprinting power surpassed them.

About fifteen minutes later.

They left Linden City's prosperous inner ring for the outer areas. After paying six copper coins, they followed the informant to an inconspicuous alley by the city wall.

"Sirs, they're right around the corner at the bulk wine shop."

The informant genuinely couldn't understand what he'd said wrong.

"Good. You're coming with us. If there's trouble, I'll use your head as a banner offering."

Li Site grabbed the informant by his hair and dragged him along.

"Grandpa, I'm really not lying! It's a warehouse rented by some farmers to store homemade bulk wine sold to inner city restaurants. Those soldiers paid to stay there - not a word of falsehood!"

The informant was terrified, legs shaking. Maybe he should just deal with adventurers from now on. These wanted men were so paranoid they'd driven themselves mad.

While the informant babbled, Fen suspected they might have to massacre everyone soon.

Ten minutes later.

Inside the bulk wine warehouse.

Fen and the knight hit it off immediately, lamenting they hadn't met sooner. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, both were former nobles who'd lost their titles due to crimes, plummeting from heaven to earth - they had much in common.

Back then, maids served their meals, nutritionists designed menus with appetizers, main courses, desserts and drinks, followed by refined after-dinner entertainment.

Their conversation could be summarized as:

In youth we were profligate sons, obsessed with luxury - fine mansions, beautiful maids...flowers and birds, addicted to tea and tangerines, bookworms and poetry fiends. A lifetime of toil, all vanished like dreams.

Now exiled overseas, with broken beds and sparse meals, often going hungry. Looking back ten years, it feels like another world.

Li Site stood nearby, barely able to listen as these two boasted extravagantly about their glorious pasts and current miserable states, now reaching the sentimental phase of middle-aged men.

The informant hadn't lied. These soldiers were indeed escorting a high-ranking Arlan Empire official's son here when the young master suddenly fell ill and kicked the bucket. How to explain this back home? "Hello, your son suddenly died of illness abroad." Who'd believe that?

This knight named Cloud looked like a 3D model come to life. He wore a full set of proper knight's plate armor from neck to toe, the metallic sheen suggesting special materials, with exquisitely articulated joints. Worth at least ten gold dragons minimum, possibly enhanced with power-boosting circuits. The chestplate once bore his noble family's crest, now scratched off after his fall from grace.

Cloud looked haggard, unshaven with lifeless eyes.

The warehouse held twenty-plus trained imperial soldiers wearing chainmail under linen shirts, equally gaunt. Since Cloud failed his mission, they shared his punishment. With the Empire's reach across the Western Continent, where could they flee? Eventually they decided to take to the seas.

"Ah..."

Cloud sighed deeply, fists clenched. Cursed with the worst luck imaginable, now stuck between a rock and hard place. Most funds were spent bribing their way to the eastern coast. Now only five gold dragons and some loose silver remained. Alone, he could disappear into obscurity, but what about these brothers-in-arms? Become farmers?

Despite the pleasant chat, Li Site had no intention of taking them in. An Arlan Empire official's son was serious business. Plus these trained soldiers were formidable. If he refused, no other pathetic pirates at Secret Port would take them either.

"Sorry we can't help. We're not sailing immediately - staying at least two more weeks."

Li Site prepared to leave. Other matters awaited - who knew when the Linden City lord's job would come? But ship supplies needed stocking first, checking what goods to order from wholesale markets.

The warehouse stored plenty of bulk wine, some of which Cloud had purchased. Archer, completely oblivious to the mood, was already guzzling it down.

Li Site was speechless. Drinking their wine then just leaving would be awkward.

"Look, I know you're pirates. We're not asking for rank - just survival. Two weeks is manageable. News won't travel back that fast."

Cloud was determined for quick resolution. Delay meant danger when pursuers arrived. He understood Li Site's concern - so many armed men boarding could cause problems mid-voyage.

Fen stayed silent. While they got along and he sympathized, his support extended to everything except actual assistance.

Li Site sought a polite refusal.

"A man of your standing becoming a bandit... I know someone who can take you to the Far Eastern Isles."

He spoke coldly.

"The Emperor's past conquests left blood debts. We Arlanese find no welcome abroad. We await the Emperor naming an heir to grant amnesty. With gold, perhaps we could buy back our titles."

Cloud murmured.

Fen said nothing. As expected - still unable to accept becoming outlaws, clinging to hope. Petty thieves might be pardoned, but major crimes? Impossible. Rules required examples - corpses to warn the people.

"What business brought that official's son here anyway?"

Li Site asked.

Cloud's next words hit like a thunderbolt, stunning even Li Site.

"If it were minor matters, perhaps..."