I was jolted awake by the chatter of the three men.

  For some reason, the carriage door was wide open, despite the lizard still moving. I was certain one of them was responsible for it.

  They huddled together, leaning out to catch a view while exchanging nonsense.

  "You think you can beat a vlandos in a fight with a knife?" Merkerthy asked.

  "Would they be weaponless?" Tom inquired, rubbing his chin as though considering it carefully.

  "Yeah. They also can't make the first move."

  Tom nodded, deep in thought. "Depends. Is it a chick or a dude?"

  "What difference does it make?" Julun asked, confusion evident in his voice.

  Tom grinned, as though he was revealing some secret technique. "If it's a chick or a gay guy, all I gotta do is take off my shirt and start doing the Cha ma la dance and song. Gonna be singing like, 'She/he got my heart in her/his trap. I wanna break free. I wanna break free.' And they’re gonna love that. So while I’m singing, I’ll move toward them in a sexy way. And then, I’ll make them fall in love with me. I’ll spend, like, three weeks love bombing them. Then, when they’re asleep, I’ll slit their throat—or hope it can be slit."

  Julun nodded, grinning. "What if they kill you as soon as you start singing with that rusty voice of yours?"

  Merkerthy burst into laughter. "I can’t even imagine him getting those giants to find him sexy. Might as well go all out and drop to your knees, ask them if they want a free sucky-sucky at that point."

  Julun shook Merkerthy, laughing. "That reminds me. You ever seen that mag, Lost Fert Gets Seduced by Lost Vlandos Maiden?"

  Merkerthy began smiling even before hearing the punchline. "Yeah, yeah?"

  Tom, seemingly already knowing where the joke was heading, muttered, "Un-fucking-believable."

  "Remember when he was on his knees, locked on her crutch like it was a sacred relic? Then she dropped her panties, and the smell hit him so bad, he started having vivid memories of his ancestors going to war. That’s gonna be Tom! He’s gonna be running away, screaming, 'Abort mission! Abort... Quaa!'” Julun collapsed to the side, laughing uncontrollably, slapping the ground.

  Merkerthy joined him, chuckling. "I forgot about the PTSD thing. Holy..."

  The crude humor reminded me of the random mean jokes my friends and I used to make back in high school on Earth.

  I wiped the saliva from the corners of my mouth and groaned inwardly at how tired I felt. It really seemed like I’d only gotten an hour or two of sleep.

  The silo ahead began to rise, signaling morning was approaching. It was about five o'clock, judging by how little light there was.

  Natasha shifted to the opposite side of the carriage to get a better view outside and gestured for me to follow.

  I did, asking, “What’s going on?”

  She pointed at the distant ruins of what must’ve been a massive building, maybe a hundred meters away. "See it?"

  "The ruins? Yeah. What about it?"

  "It was a factory for ether batteries."

  "So, an accident happened?"

  "Monsters were drawn to all the ether. They ran out of their zone and trashed the place to absorb the sweet, sweet nectar."

  "Damn. The Governing Trustees must’ve been fuming."

  The Governing Trustees were basically the world’s version of a 'board of directors.'

  "Probably. Anyway, I thought you might find it interesting."

  "It is."

  As we passed by a village with around thirty small buildings, some with small gardens or animals, the carriage suddenly jolted and began moving erratically.

  A powerful voice bellowed from ahead, "Run!"

  What the hell was going on?

  Suddenly, the lizard cried out, a monstrous, deafening sound filling the air.

  Claws ripped through the front of the carriage, and a red, shark-like beast with six limbs stared at us, its eyes full of pure malice. It looked at us as if contemplating how it would make us suffer.

  Bahmos stumbled back, trembling. "No fucking way..."

  The beast's mouth opened wide, and heat rippled through the air around its jaw. Then its eyes snapped to Natasha.

  It just stared.

  Did it want to kill her first?

  Unfortunately for it, it was met with a massive black war hammer to the face, jerking its head to the side with a guttural growl.

  A three-meter-tall crab, made of wood and grass, clamped its pincers around the beast's neck.

  "Kill it!" the war hammer-wielding man demanded.

  Without hesitation, everyone scrambled out of the carriage.

  I picked up Ulah, while Natasha grabbed Caren’s hand, quickly adjusting her grip before using all her strength to drag him out.

  The carriage lurched and swayed as the monstrous shark continued to thrash.

  It fixed its scornful gaze on the adventurer before unleashing a screech that sent a burning, blinding light flashing across the space.

  My eyes!

  I instinctively dropped Ulah, my hands shielding my eyes from the searing pain.

  The four guys screamed, but I heard no sound from Natasha.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Then, I heard him again—his voice unmistakable.

  “SHIT!”

  It was the war hammer-wielding man. The same guy I had met in the market. Jim.

  His voice, thick with rage, followed. “Come back! Come back and fight me!”

  He continued yelling, his words cracking under the strain, before muttering with disdain, “What a coward…”

  Then, a voice came closer. “Give it an hour or two, it will clear out.”

  “Holy shit, you’re an adventurer?” Tom cried, rubbing his eyes.

  “Yeah. Lucky you, right?”

  Bahmos groaned, still in pain.

  The Vlandos spoke again, his tone laced with surprise. “Oh, it’s you two. Didn’t expect to meet you so soon.” He shouted in a different direction. “Jer-kal-thuli-mal, it’s the farmer girl!”

  Natasha’s voice dripped with passive aggression. “How do you know her?”

  I reached for her hand to calm her, whispering, “I met them in the market square. That’s all.”

  “Yeah, I bought some pink-terras from her and saw… um, that man on the floor.”

  He continued, “Don’t worry, we’re adventurers sent to deal with this monster, so you can relax a bit.”

  I held Ulah with one arm, retreating behind Natasha for some semblance of safety.

  “Damn, I guess I scared you…” Jim said.

  No, I’m hiding behind her to heal my eyes without drawing attention.

  I touched my eyes with my glowing left hand. After a short while, the darkness receded, and my regular vision returned.

  Of course, this would raise questions, but what conclusions would he draw?

  No Vlandos had the ability to use skills—not even through the system, which could grant all manner of powers.

  I was an exception. Unless he was senile, he would have to come to some other conclusion about my sudden recovery.

  I stepped out from behind Natasha’s protective shield, rubbing my eyes as I spoke. “I think my eyes are getting a bit better…”

  I took in the sight of him: clad in black iron armor, standing confidently. Behind him, the massive, tree-based crab monster remained completely still.

  He asked, “You covered your eyes already…?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “I turned away from the flash and closed my eyes in time.”

  He nodded slowly. “Quick. Anyway… how are you?”

  His voice carried the tone of a student trying to distract a teacher.

  But from what?

  “Please… kill me,” came a faint voice from behind him.

  The adventurer muttered a curse under his breath as I instinctively looked behind him.

  Did the monster do all this?

  Corpses were scattered across the ground—bodies torn apart, intestines spilling from gaping wounds, some torsos split in two, others with only heads, their bodies nowhere in sight.

  I swallowed hard, the knot in my throat growing tighter.

  I saw the Punchio guy—the one who had given me the knife—moving from corpse to corpse, draping them with a black blanket pulled from his air-water eclipse device.

  And then...

  My stomach churned. Why did I look?

  Everything I had eaten came up in a rush, and I vomited on the road.

  One of the bodies being covered was burned down to the skeleton, the ground blackened beneath it.

  Jer-kal—the pink-gum-skinned woman, the Julioes—was running from one mutilated body to another, attending to the injured.

  A massive, fairy-like monster, about my size, hovered beside her. Its glowing yellow hands touched those with missing flesh, and new tissue formed, healing them.

  She could heal. That means... she can probably heal Ulah.

  And Caren.

  The Punchio guy barked, “Jim, get your ass back to guarding!”

  Jim, the one who had spoken with me earlier, sighed. “Sorry to you all. But for—”

  I rushed to ask, “Can your friend heal my brother and father? They’re really sick, like, badly sick.”

  “Oh. Um, yeah, once we’re done here.”

  I want to tell him it's urgent, but I held back. What was happening here was more pressing.

  Jer-kal stood, her face grim. “Lo’jul, this one just died on me.”

  She moved to another wounded person, and Lu’jul, the Punchio, covered the newly deceased body with his blanket.

  Lo’jul shook his head, his voice heavy. “This is going to be a lot of work for the cleanup crew.”

  Jer-kal moved toward a man, his lower body bleeding heavily. His eyes were fixed on the sky, his face stained with tears. Despite the slow blinking of his eyes and the faint rise and fall of his chest, it seemed like he was already dead.

  Jer-kal spoke gently, “You’ll be okay in—”

  “Kill me,” he interjected, his voice weak and desperate.

  Jer-kal showed little reaction. “Sorry, I can’t do that.”

  He repeated, “Just do it…”

  Biting her lip, Jer-kal responded, “Give me a second.”

  She tapped a small pyramid communicator near her ear. “Operator ‘Sharcoi,’ answer.”

  There was a brief delay before she spoke again. “The monster victim here is a fifty to sixty-year-old human male. He’s requesting assisted suicide due to the psychological harm caused by the monster’s assault. He’s mortally wounded, but I can save him.”

  Jer-kal nodded slowly. “Understood.”

  With a detached, almost inhuman tone—like a professional receptionist—she relayed, “I’m sorry, but I don’t have permission to assist with your suicide. However, an adventurer is on his way to erase your memories of what occurred today. You will forget it all.”

  He didn’t respond, but the fairy hovering nearby began to sing a strange lullaby, coaxing the man’s eyes closed before healing him.

  Jer-kal glanced around, hearing more moans of pain. That’s when she saw me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Great, she didn’t hear Jim. I blinked a few times, struggling to find my words. “My… my…”

  Damn it, Vernisha. Just say it! But all I could think of were the blood, the chunks of flesh, the intestines.

  Jim interjected, “Her family’s sick. I’m guessing they were heading to Sundawn for professional care.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  As Jer-kal moved toward me, an injured man shouted, “Where are you going? My leg is still fucked up!”

  She called back, “I’ll be with you very soon, sir.”

  “What? Then… at least make your monster heal us while you go talk to your friends!”

  “That’s against protocols.”

  “Oh shut the hell up! We’re dying here! You get paid to help us! Our fucking tax money!” He pointed at his leg. “It’s broken, and you don’t want to help me?! You know what’ll happen to you once I report this to the adventurers’ guild?”

  He breathed heavily. “Jail. Fucking jail.”

  Jer-kal’s hands clenched, and beneath the friendly expression she wore, I could sense her simmering anger.

  Jim walked over to her, his arm around her shoulders, whispering something in her ear, but she didn’t react.

  She was still staring at the man, who seemed to be feeding off her intensity.

  “Look… I’m speaking the truth. You’re in Terrafall, and you work for our government. You have to follow our rules. That’s just how it is.”

  When in Rome, do as the Romans, huh?

  Lo’jul, who had been observing from the side, spoke up. “Do us a favor and shut up. You don’t like us, fine. We don’t like you either, that’s understood. So just let us do our job. My friend here was just going to help someone who’s just as much of an emergency as you… But now you went and pissed her off. You pissed off a Julioes, of all people.”

  The man took a shaky breath, his eyes darting around nervously. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I went over my head.”

  Natasha muttered, “Good luck with that.”

  She’s probably referring to Jer-kal accepting apologies, I thought. There’s this stereotype—or is it?—that Julioes don’t know forgiveness. They choose to ignore hurt if there’s something to gain from doing so.

  Whether it’s a biological trait or a product of social engineering, I didn’t know. And frankly, I didn’t care.

  Jer-kal brushed Jim’s hand off her shoulder and walked toward the man, who now seemed full of fear. In all fairness, she was huge—6’9” and armored.

  “Hey, hey. Stop your friend!” he shouted.

  Jer-kal responded coldly, “I’m not going to kill you. Damn Prerfamaetgsquan.”

  What was that? Must be Juriop, her native language.

  Jim groaned in disappointment. “You know the operator’s going to write you up for that, right?”

  “I’ll call him one in his face too.”

  Jim made several facial expressions, as if to ask, Are you senile? But he gave up with a resigned sigh—like someone appeasing an angry partner. ‘What the… yes dear, whatever you say…’

  Anyway, Jer-kal healed the man, though he resisted at first, thinking she was going to kill him.

  Now, the people around were staring at her oddly, but she walked over to me.

  She asked, “Him?” referring to Ulah, who I was still holding.

  “Yes, please.”

  Without a word, her fairy monster drew near, and then… nothing.

  The fairy’s fingers tensed, and it began to groan in pain. Jer-kal, too, seemed to be in agony, her eyes wide as if she was in incredible pain.

  Natasha grabbed me and pulled me away quickly.

  Jer-kal kicked the monster, and suddenly it transformed into a white mass of light, absorbed into her shoes—or whatever was inside them.

  She gasped, falling to her knees, sweat dripping from her face. “Fuck… me. I’m tired.”

  Jim approached, concern in his voice. “Take your rest. You did well.”

  Jer-kal sighed. “I think you’re going to need to carry me. My brain feels like it’s going to split.”

  “Yeah, I got you.” Jim lifted her onto his back. “Lo, how many more minutes you got left in you?”

  “Maybe thirty?” Lo’jul answered, his gaze on the humanoid monster in the sky. It had four faces, each facing a respective cardinal direction. Below its neck, it looked like it wore a black religious habit—but that was likely part of its body, considering how it moved.

  Jim then turned to me. “Sorry, kid.”

  My luck really is bullshit.