Velik didn’t know what lies the guild leadership spun about Torwin’s death. They had a service for the old hunter at the guild hall in Cravel, which he didn’t attend. Not being a member of the guild, he wasn’t welcome anyway. Two days later, there was a small memorial in Ashala. Velik briefly considered making an appearance, but as soon as he found out hunters from the guild would also be in attendance there, he changed his mind.

Instead, he spent his time working on [Mana Scent], his new skill. Aria, being a mage class, had a lot more insight into how the skills worked than Torwin had possessed, and a single half-hour conversation with her had cleared up a lot of misconceptions. Generally speaking, [Mana Sight] was one of the hardest sensory skills to start with for humans because they relied on their eyes so much already.

On the other hand, it was also one of the easiest to improve once the wielder got a handle on sorting out the mana from what their eyes were physically showing them. Since Velik had already moved past that point, there was no reason to hold off on taking another skill. Two sensory skills were enough to merge into [Mana Sense], which was itself still a basic requisite skill for any aspiring mage.

After that came [Mana Control], which was something that was extremely necessary for them if they wanted to be able to customize their magic to match a situation, sort of their equivalent to a weapon mastery skill that formed the cornerstone of any warrior class’s abilities. It was all a lot of work with possibly years of study and preparation before they were ever ready to fight their first monster, which was why the classes were so damn rare.

Or at least that was Aria’s explanation. Velik didn’t think she was lying, but she was definitely a biased source of information. Since he had no plans on altering his class to become a mage, Velik wasn’t worried about going that far. He wanted [Mana Sense] so that he could detect mana that he couldn’t physically see, and in theory he’d merge it with his new [Awakened Blood] skill, since that had taken [Apex Hunter], which contained all his old sensory enhancing skills.

One step at a time. First, figure out [Mana Scent], then work on the merge.

To that end, Velik was standing in an alchemist’s shop. It was the most overwhelming source of mana scents he could find, though the potions were all expertly sealed to hold the smells in. There were still plenty of jars of unguent and tinctures, not to mention all the various ingredients. Those scents radiated throughout the shop, filling the whole building and also Velik’s nose.

“We’re getting ready to close. Are you almost done?” the shopkeeper asked. He was a young man, the alchemist’s apprentice, maybe, and he’d been more than happy to accept the bribe of five decarmas just to let Velik sit in the corner breathing in the various smells.

No rank up today, but maybe I’m trying to take on too much at once.

It had worked in the dungeon for [Mana Sight], so he’d hoped to repeat that feat. It didn’t appear to be in the cards, though, so he simply stood up from the stool he’d been perched on. “I suppose. Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“You’re a paying customer,” the shopkeeper said. “I couldn’t very well kick you out.”

That was only true in the most technical sense. Velik had purchased a sample vial of non-magical perfume for sixteen copper hesplates—the cheapest item the shop sold. It allowed the man to truthfully tell his master that Velik had bought something without revealing the massive bribe if it should come up.

“Come on back tomorrow if you want to do some more training,” the teenager said. “Same deal.”

Velik nodded and walked out onto the street. His ears picked up the shopkeeper snickering to himself. “Sucker,” the guy said. “I can’t believe he paid me three month’s wages just to sit in the corner.”

And I can’t believe you have to work three months to make what a bronze-ranked hunter could collect in a single fight.

Truly, the scale of Velik’s wealth was lost on him. He knew he had a lot of money, but it wasn’t until little interactions like that that it really sunk in. If he’d wanted to, he could retire immediately and live a comfortable life. And that wasn’t even including the money Jensen still owed him for that last run. Velik didn’t know how much that was, but he was betting it was a lot.

Stolen story; please report.

Walking through the city takes too long, he mentally grumbled as he threaded his way back to Jensen’s house, or headquarters, or whatever he was calling it anymore. It was big enough to have a few guest rooms, and for some reason, Jensen insisted that Velik use one whenever he was in the city. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find his own accommodations, but it wasn’t worth the effort to fight over it.

He could hear Jensen before he even entered the building, sitting up in his office drinking something from a glass with three pieces of ice in it. Expensive.

He wasn’t taking Torwin’s death well, and Velik could understand why. There was nothing Jensen could do about it. He was barely level 25, having chosen to focus his efforts on vault expeditions instead of increasing his personal power.

Velik’s path took him right past the office. For a moment, he considered walking past, but for some reason he couldn’t quite figure out, he stopped and turned the handle on the door. Jensen was right where Velik had expected to find him, leaning back in his chair, a fancy coat thrown over the back. The buttons on his cuffs were undone, as were half the ones on his shirt.

“You missed it,” Jensen said, blearily blinking at him from the other side of the desk.

“I know.”

“They told a lot of stories about him. His career… It’s insane how many close calls he had. I never knew. He didn’t like talking much about his past.”

Velik’s eyes traveled across the desk. Two empty glass bottles stood neatly to Jensen’s left, next to a third that was still about half full. The ice chest had been left open either through carelessness or drunkenness—probably a mixture of both. A pile of disorganized files dominated the right side of the desk, a sharp contrast to the neat order he commonly kept his office in.

“You’re going to kill that fucker, right?” Jensen asked abruptly.

Velik nodded. “As soon as I’m strong enough.”

“Good. Here. I’ve got feelers out to get as many as possible.”

Jensen jerked open a drawer and pulled out a wooden box that shimmered with mana to Velik’s eyes. As soon as he opened it, the mana snapped and a powerful scent washed out. Velik’s nose twitched, taking it in.

Fruit. Mana. Fire? No. Power of some kind though. A stat fruit, for sure.

[Mana Scent has advanced to rank 2.]

Jensen held the box out to Velik, revealing what appeared to be a simple peach resting on a cloth pillow. “It increases your mystic by 1 when you eat it. Permanently. I had this idea… I don’t know, that I could buy my way to the power I’d need, but it doesn’t work that way. I don’t even know if you’d notice a single extra point, but every little bit, right?”

“You can only eat so many stat fruits, right?” Velik said, making no move to take it.

“The rough estimate is twenty, split up any way you want, but that’s more theoretical than anything. You’d have to be absurdly rich to afford that many. This one was twenty thousand decarmas.”

“And you want me to have it?”

Jensen nodded drunkenly and shoved the box at Velik. “Eat it,” he said.

“Maybe in the morning when you sober up.”

“I broke the preservation enchantment when I opened the box. It has to be consumed now,” Jensen slurred. “Just do it. I’m rich. Twenty thousand is nothing to me.”

Hesitantly, Velik reached out and picked up the peach. The smell of power coming from it was intoxicating. Truthfully, it was worth seeing it just for the skill rank he’d gotten, but that didn’t stop him from biting into it anyway.

Jensen poured another drink and passed it to Velik, then topped up his own glass. “You should have come to the memorial service,” he said.

“I know.” Velik took another bite of the peach and chewed slowly.

“Fuck those guys from the guild.”

“Why’s that?”

“They were running their mouth about you, like it was your fault Torwin died, saying stuff like that if they’d been there, they’d have had his back.”

“They don’t know that a divine beast killed him. The guild made up some lie.”

“Still,” Jensen said. He eyed Velik’s untouched. “Drink your fucking drink and tell me a story about him.”

[You have permanently gained +1 to Mystic.]

Velik set the pit back into the box and handed it back to Jensen. “Maybe it’ll grow a tree that produces another stat fruit,” he said. Then he picked up the glass and looked at the golden-brown liquid. With a single motion, he threw it back and drank the whole thing down.

It wouldn’t make him tipsy. Liquor strong enough to affect him would kill someone as weak as Jensen, who’d clearly had more than he should’ve. It wasn’t about getting drunk though. It was just part of the ritual, a way to honor Torwin’s memory, so he didn’t say anything when Jensen topped the glass up again.

“Did I ever mention that he was sneaking in a vacation at that hot spring last year?” Velik asked.

“What? Seriously?”

“I caught him in the hot spring itself. He’d finished the job weeks ago.”

“That ass,” Jensen said with a laugh. “I can believe it, though. Once, when I was apprenticing under him…”

They swapped stories for another few hours, with Jensen doing most of the talking. He’d known Torwin far better than Velik had. When the liquor was all gone, they both stood up. Jensen wobbled a bit, but held his balance. “You kill that monster. I’ll do everything I can to help. Wanted to do it myself, but… You do it for both of us, okay?”

“I will,” Velik promised.