“Alright, one gold is fifty silver, or five hundred bronze…” I muttered, flipping the coin. “Not exactly a billionaire, but it’ll keep me alive.”

  I was lying in the grass in a field outside the city, watching clouds drift by. The Guild bored me in five minutes. A weird déjà vu rolled over me—like I’d done this, lying here and staring at the sky, a thousand times. Or a thousand years.

  Footsteps broke the silence. I cut my eyes sideways: a group of armed people loomed over me.

  “Sorry,” a guy who looked like the leader started. “You’re Greg, right?”

  “Yeah.” I didn’t even sit up.

  “Listen, we’re the ‘Green Phoenix’—”

  I snorted, cutting him off. “Green? Why not black? Or red? Why not ‘The Great Mighty Dragon’ while you’re at it? Trash name, guys. Seriously.”

  The leader paused, swallowing the insult, but held it together.

  “Our whole party is D-rank. We need a mage—missing one for a cave clear.”

  “Boring,” I yawned. “You’ll manage.”

  “We won’t.” He held out a paper. “B-rank cave. They won’t even let us in unless the party is fully staffed. And without a mage, we’re screwed.”

  I gave them a lazy once-over. “B-rank? You’re weak. You’ll get smeared in there.”

  “You—!” The archer girl stepped forward, cheeks red with rage. “You arrogant freak! You don’t even know your worth and you’re already turning your nose up!”

  The word freak scraped my ears. I sat up and looked at her properly.

  “Damn. ‘Freak’ is harsh. Do I actually look like a freak?”

  She blinked—she expected a fight, not a question about looks. She studied my face and answered uncertainly.

  “No… you’re just… weird. I’ve never seen a human with fully black eyes. No whites, no iris. And your hair’s black like darkness itself.”

  I grinned. “Oh, so I’m still handsome?”

  “NO!” she shrieked, snapping. “You’re unbearable!”

  “So are you coming or not?” the leader cut in, trying to drag the conversation back on track. “You didn’t hear the deal. We split the payout fairly. Even.”

  He started counting on his fingers. “We’re five right now. Two front-line swordsmen, one support swordsman… and our ‘tank’—shield guy who pulls aggro. Plus the archer. With you that’s six. So each of us gets—”

  He frowned, moving his lips and staring at the sky while he tried to divide 100 by 6.

  I sighed. “Sixteen point six percent each.”

  The leader stared at me. “Yeah… right. Fast.”

  I looked at the mismatched crew again. “Green Phoenix,” seriously. If they found some other mage—some newbie—they’d get eaten alive in that cave. These ones… at least they were mildly entertaining.

  “Fine.” I got up and dusted off my pants. “I’ll go with you. Make sure you don’t die in the first five minutes.”

  We’d been walking for half an hour, and the silence started to crush them.

  “So…” the leader tried, forcing small talk. “What can you do, Greg? What’s your specialty? Fire, water, buffs?”

  I shrugged. “Uh… everything.”

  “Everything?” he repeated, waiting for the trick.

  “In the literal sense. Everything.”

  He choked on air and shut up.

  One of the swordsmen—a freckled guy—finally couldn’t take it.

  “Hey, aren’t you going to ask our names? We’re a team now.”

  I glanced at him. “Uh… why?”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “What do you mean why?!”

  “I don’t want to know you and remember you. Why fill my head with useless info?”

  The swordsmen exchanged hurt, gloomy looks.

  Then the archer exploded.

  “You’re seriously awful!” she shouted, fists clenched. “Unbearable! And how old are you anyway, runt? You act like an old man but you look like a kid!”

  I stopped and stared straight at her.

  “You’re the same age as me. What are you whining about? Look at yourself.”

  I ran my eyes over her with cold, clinical analysis.

  “Your stance is crooked. Your draw’s weak. It’s obvious you’re dead weight. They drag you along out of pity.”

  The silence after that hit like a wall.

  The whole party stopped. Nobody expected that kind of cruelty. The archer’s lips trembled, her eyes filled, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

  The leader’s face went red instantly. He lunged, grabbed me by the chest.

  “You freak! How dare you say that?! She’s my sister! You don’t know what we’ve been through to survive! You have no idea how hard she tries!”

  I blinked, staring at the crying girl and her furious brother. Something clicked in my head.

  “Oh.” I thought. “Right. That’s called being toxic. I just stated a fact and it came out like I was trying to cut her.”

  “Uh…” I carefully freed myself from his grip. “Yeah, I came out real toxic. Sorry. I overdid it.”

  He was still breathing hard, still drilling holes in me with his eyes, but he stepped away to comfort his sister.

  After that we walked in dead silence. Only the wet suck of mud under boots and the archer’s quiet sniffling filled the awkward air.

  The cave greeted us with damp and darkness. We’d been going for about ten minutes, deeper into the underground. I could feel living things everywhere.

  “Stop,” I said lazily. “Be careful. Goblins are hanging above you, ready to drop on your heads.”

  The leader snapped his head up, squinting into the dark.

  “Fast!” he barked. “Formation! Shieldman center—archer, drop the ones above us! Swordsmen, cover flanks!”

  I just stepped to the wall and folded my arms.

  The goblins realized the ambush was blown and came screaming down from the ceiling.

  “Eat this!” the archer shouted. Her fingers blurred—five arrows found targets midair, punching through green bodies.

  “Come on, you bastards!” the shieldman roared, triggering Taunt. A weak red aura wrapped him, and the goblins—stupid and rabid—piled onto his shield.

  The swordsmen moved clean, chopping anything that tried to slip past, while the support swordsman covered backs.

  Ten minutes later it was over. Thirty goblins on the ground. The party panted, wiping blades.

  The leader walked over, still breathing hard.

  “Thanks. If you hadn’t warned us, they’d have caught us. We’d be dead.”

  I nodded.

  “Why didn’t you do anything?!” the archer snapped, yanking an arrow from a corpse. “You just stood there watching!”

  “You didn’t need me,” I said calmly. “You were handling it.”

  We went deeper. The air changed—heavier. Yellow eyes appeared in the dark. A growl like metal scraping stone filled the tunnel.

  “Iron wolves…” the leader whispered, going pale. “A whole pack…”

  Too many for a D-rank group.

  “The shield won’t hold that many hits!” one swordsman shouted.

  “FORWARD!” the leader screamed, forcing down fear. “We don’t have a choice!”

  It turned into a meat grinder. Not a fight—survival. The shield cracked under metal claws. Five minutes in, everyone was bleeding. Deep gouges, ripped armor. Their line buckled.

  One wolf broke through. The support swordsman tried to intercept, but slipped. The monster’s iron teeth clacked, and it lunged straight at the archer.

  She was out of arrows. She froze, staring as death flew into her face.

  I exhaled.

  “Fine. I’ll help.”

  I barely moved a finger.

  The ground under the pack shuddered. A heartbeat later, hundreds of stone spears blasted out of the floor at monstrous speed.

  SPLAT—CRACK.

  Flesh tearing and bone snapping fused into one sound.

  The wolf mid-leap stopped half a meter from the archer’s face—pinned on a stone spike like a bug on a needle. A drop of wolf blood landed on her nose.

  Silence.

  The entire pack—over a dozen B-rank monsters—was gone in one hit.

  While the “Green Phoenix” leader was yelling in triumph, counting carcasses, I realized I had nothing left to do here.

  “Boring,” I whispered.

  The world smeared—one second later I was sitting at a wooden table in a tavern. Noisy, filthy hall, smell of fried meat.

  “Hey, innkeeper! Lamb and water.”

  I ate slowly, staring at the wall. Déjà vu stabbed my brain again. How many times had I sat like this? How many taverns?

  Two hours later the door slammed open and the same crew poured in—dirty, caked in dried blood, happy enough to be stupid.

  “There you are!” the leader shouted when he saw me. “Our hero, Greg!”

  They crowded my table without being invited. Mugs of ale slammed down hard enough to shake the wood.

  “Thank you, brother!” The leader was already drunk on adrenaline. “If it wasn’t for you, we’d still be in there. We hit the jackpot! Merchants almost fought over the hides!”

  He dropped a heavy pouch on the table.

  “Your cut. Two gold. Honest. Like we agreed.”

  I scooped the coins into my pocket. “Yeah.”

  “Listen,” the leader’s eyes shone. “Come with us on the next job. With your magic we can take C-rank orders—maybe even B! We’ll be legends!”

  “No,” I said, tearing off a bite of lamb.

  Their smiles died instantly—like I snuffed a candle.

  “What? Greg, why?” the swordsman blurted. “We’re a great team! We need you! If it’s money—we’ll give you twenty percent! No—twenty-five!”

  “No.”

  “But why?!”

  “Because I’m lazy,” I answered, looking him in the eyes. “All these adventures, crawling through dirty caves, playing with death… screw that. I already made enough. Why should I strain myself?”

  Silence.

  They didn’t understand. For them, risk was the point. For me, it was wasted time.

  The archer—quiet until now—stood and walked over. She wasn’t crying anymore, just awkward.

  “Greg… I’m sorry for what I said in the woods. I was wrong. And… thank you. You saved my life.”

  I nodded once. Apology accepted. Case closed.

  They drank the rest of the night. Ordered the most expensive booze. Bought rounds for strangers. Laughed.

  I watched them and didn’t get the joke.

  “Idiots,” I thought, finishing my lamb. “They almost died two hours ago. They earned money with blood and fear. And now they’ll dump half of it right here in one night. What’s the point of risking your life just to flush it down a tavern?”