‘Oh yeah, I tell all kinds of stories about him. it’s kinda my job. Will hired me outside the Tower about a year ago to be his hype man.’

‘Wow, that’s a sweet gig. Does he tell you what to say, or do you have a script, or a notebook, or…’

‘Nah, all of ‘em come to me right off the top of my head. Here’s one for you:

A powerful syndicate of criminals ambushed William Oh. They were caught completely off guard.’

‘Wow, cool. Tell me more.’

* Jason Salazar to Melroy Erikson

“You heard about the caravan?” Melroy asked, leaning up against the tables where dice were clattering back and forth as the local unsavory element amused themselves in Boss Sammohan’s gambling hall. Gambling was one of the few ways people could amuse themselves in Bakton Keep, what with how almost every other profitable pastime was forbidden.

But people are cunning and resourceful, especially those who have reached the 9th Floor.

Everybody was on their best behavior inside the walls of Bakton Keep, but in the Grinding area of the forest beyond, where all the monsters of the Floor congregated…

Accidents happened.

Due to the nature of the Floor, extortion and thievery was always a dicey prospect, but if the person died? That severed the thread of Debt, and all their possessions were free game.

In many ways, the Debt system encouraged brutality.

“Yeah, I heard about the caravan: bunch of kids, under the watchful eye of William Oh,” Sammohan said, exchanging ten-pieces that would buy entire farms in the Ring.

Why didn’t more people retire while they were ahead? Melroy’s personal theory was that the Climbers realized on some fundamental level that those outside The Tower had no control. They were sheep in a pen, waiting for the slaughter. To retire to that ignorant bliss was anathema to people like them.

Sammohan lost a round and cursed, power radiating off him like heat waves. Or it could just be our addiction to power.

“Well, I staked out the market and spotted a group of them dropping some serious cash. Like, raid-boss level cash.”

“And?” Sammohan asked. Money didn’t have much use above the Ninth Floor. What they really wanted was the gear they would need to conquer the 10th Floor and get their Advanced Classes and Lordships.

“Get this, I saw a kid shopping around for Relics for half a dozen different archetypes, some baking rings and he bought a bag of rings with no affixes.”

“He’s a crafter of some kind then?” Sammohan asked, glancing up at him.

“I think so. Plus he had one hand, a mask and a tomahawk.”

“So you saw William Oh,” Sammohan said.

“I saw a kid.” Melroy said, leaning in close. “I saw a kid with a Set.”

Sammohan frowned as the entire gambling alley went silent. Every one of them had superhuman hearing.

“What do you mean?”

“William Oh’s mask is a snake with a feather fringe. His cloak’s shoulders match it, as do his boots, and pants. The tomahawk is a snake with feathers. The kid. Is wearing. A set.”

“I asked around, and nobody’s heard of anyone buying, selling, or finding a new Set, none have been stolen from the vaults of the world powers. This one seemed to come out of nowhere. And this kid was buying up soft-set Relics that there was no way he could use all at once. Like he had some kind of way of combining them.”

Melroy turned the chair around and sat down in front of Sammohan.

“Here’s the best part. I chatted up some of the people at the caravan, met this Jason Salazar kid who let it slip he’d been paid to spread the word about William Oh. Said he was William Oh’s official Hype Man.”

“Kid’s puffing up his reputation.” Sammohan said, twiddling some gold coins between his fingers, seemingly in thought. “Good idea for his age.”

“I don’t think he’s a fighter, I think he’s a crafter that paid people to talk him up…and, I think he made the Set he’s wearing,” Melroy said, every ruffian in the gambling hall hanging on his words.

“His Party is going out into the grinding forest next two weeks. They’re underleveled on account of the eighth Floor. We’ve got ten levels on them, each.”

Melroy saw Sammohan run through it in his head.

Crafters who could make or modify Relics were rare, somebody making a Set was unheard of, and whoever had control of that ability would rule the Tower.

“When’re they gonna start Grinding?” He asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“Alright boys,” Sammohan said, the chair rattling backwards and he shot to his feet. “Listen up. If you do exactly what I tell you, you’ll earn a piece of the prize. Here’s what I want to happen:”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

***William Oh***

“That blows,” Will said, looking up at the lacquered map of forest carved onto the wood above and behind the clerks.

All the grinding spots closest to the Keep were already filled in with the names of different Parties, and the only ones remaining were three slots at the far edges of the forest, and split apart by other parties in between them.

“Keep Policy requires us to control the numbers of grinders and their location. To prevent infighting over space and monsters.” The clerk said, looking a little nervous. His heartbeat was a bit higher than Will would expect for someone doing a job as routine as logistics.

That’s odd. Are we getting screwed over? Will thought, glancing up at the map. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was some roundabout method that people would use to reserve good grinding spots outside the Keep itself, and then rent them out to desperate newcomers.

The three spots available were vastly separated both from each other and from the keep, and they could only be reserved day by day. If they took three hours to get to and back from, the amount of actual grinding that could be done was…slim to none.

Of course, that’s not really a problem for me. Will could get his people there and back quickly just by picking them up and flying them over.

The biggest problem was the distribution. Will had three Parties of Climbers as their caravan guard, and three parties of civilians. He also had his original Party.

Seven parties. Three spaces.

If they weren’t split up, Will would just reserve two spots that shared a border and have his Party and some civilians take the space.

I Think I’m gonna have to leave the civilians in the Keep for the first day or two, Will thought.

The Party limit stated on the map was eight people, so Will could shuffle his original party into the three caravan guard parties. Once they had experience with the local fauna, and they didn’t need any more levels, Will could cycle in civilians in ones and twos.

I’m gonna be on this floor another eight days.

Will stood and thought about it.

It might be best to delay the ascension to the 10th Floor until everyone was level 45, regardless of how many days it took.

Will hadn’t been budgeted much time above the bare minimum amount needed to reach the Tenth Floor and come back.

I may have to send money down to keep Thea going, or perhaps…

Will’s eye twitched. He hadn’t cashed out the bounty on The Sin Amalgam yet. It was just safer to leave a lump sum that big sitting in the vaults rather than carry it around.

“Do you know if there’s a way to authorize another person to collect a bounty on your behalf across Floors?” Will asked, a totally off-topic question that caught the clerk off-guard.

She just stammered for a moment then shrugged.

“I can look into it, my lord,” Badur said, pulling out his ledger.

“Please do. See if we can forward the bounty for The Sin Amalgam to Thea in Akul. I suspect I’d like to take a little extra time on this Floor. You have power of attorney for this purpose.”

“Will…do…” Badur said, jotting down a quick note before trotting off.

“He’s so handy,” Will mused, watching Badur hustle away to do the paperwork.

“That’s why we brought him, isn’t it?” Loth asked with a shrug, glancing up at the map, eyes narrowed as she counted the number of parties grinding today.

“Eighteen parties currently grinding.” Loth mused before she turned her attention to the clerk. “How many Parties were out grinding yesterday?”

“…Five.” The clerk said, sweat beading on his brow, heartbeat increasing again.

“So there just happened to be a huge surge in interest in gaining in levels and Relics the day after we arrived?” Loth asked, peering up at the map. “One that conveniently splits up our forces and places them as far away from the keep as possible?”

“…I smell a trap.” Loth said.

“I think it’s extortion.” Will said. “People should know how dangerous we are by now. They’re probably just trying to squeeze some kind of profit out of us.”

“I think people can be very stupid until they see it for themselves. Whaddya wanna bet?” Loth asked.

“Forty ten-pieces?” Will replied.

“Oddly specific number there. You know, doubling down on a losing bet is a poor strategy.” Loth said, wrenching a guffaw out of Will.

“Can I get the list of names of the people in the parties surrounding those three sites?” Will asked, gesturing up at the map.

That was a dead-end, as it turned out. The people in those parties only existed on paper, and served as a smokescreen for the identity of whoever was arranging this scam.

“Trap.” Loth corrected. “I know a trap when I see one.”

“Money-making enterprise.” Will said.

After sitting down and thinking about it rationally for a few minutes, Will and Loth agreed there was no sense in sending themselves or caravan members into suspected danger when they didn’t have to.

Even if they knew there was a potential trap and they were confident that they could smash it, walking straight into it to prove they could was simply…not smart.

What’s the most mature way to handle this? Will mused.

***Melroy***

“Well, that was a waste of our damn time,” One of the thugs complained, making hard eye contact with Melroy as he tossed his cloak and weapons up onto the rack, kicking the mud off his boots before he entered the gambling hall proper.

That was one of the nice things about having the base of operations inside Bakton Keep: nobody stole anything, so you could throw your gear up on an unprotected shelf and be confident you would be able to retrieve it on the way out again.

The irony that Sammohan’s crew profited from murder, kidnapping and looting outside the gates wasn’t lost on Melroy.

Damn, it’s gonna take a while to live this one down, Melroy thought, scowling as he followed suit, ignoring the aggressive jostling and mean looks of the other Climbers. They couldn’t do anything to him. Not inside the bounds of the keep.

So we got unlucky, Melroy thought, kicking off his boots and entering the gambling hall. Maybe William Oh was spending an extra day getting his caravan organized. Maybe they had their meeting with Bakton today and couldn’t swing it. Maybe they just saw how overcrowded it was and decided to get in line early tomorrow to get better spots.

Melroy’s idea was still good: William Oh’s Party hadn’t done any grinding today so they were still underleveled, and there was a Set up for grabs. They shouldn’t just give up after one miss. Not with a Lordship at stake.

Sammohan was probably thinking of locking William Oh in a basement and forcing him to make Set after Set, but Melroy knew the score:

A Set’s value was dictated by its rarity.

At some point, the Set he’s wearing will be unguarded. I just have to keep my eyes open for the opportunity. And once I have it…

Once he was wearing it, William Oh, Bakton keep, and Boss Sammohan had no more value to him. Less than that. He didn’t need other people squealing to everyone about how Melroy stole a Set.

Dead men tell no tales, after all.

Melroy entered Sammohan’s gambling behind everyone else, eyes fixed on the crowded bar, where he could muscle his way in and get a cold drink.

Given the night’s frustrations, someone might spit in it, but Melroy was willing to roll those dice.

“Good evening gentlemen!” A unfamiliar young man’s voice called from the center of the gambling hall as Melroy was halfway to the bar.

Melroy did a double take and came to a stumbling halt as he recognized the distinctive feathered serpent mask.

He wasn’t there a second ago…Was he!?

“My associate and I need your help settling a bet.”

A cloaked figure the size of a child dropped down from the ceiling, shiny black scales gleaming from inside the shadowed hood.

“I would never unjustly deprive you of your life, property, or freedom, so anyone who wants to leave is free to do so,” William Oh said in a tone that suggested the exact opposite.