With a sigh, Firrol said, "That's the Deep Sea Guild, and they're rather big in the city, going against them is tantamount to seeking death."
Confused, Melvin questioned, "How could they be?" He said, "I fought with them for a bit, and they weren't particularly strong."
"Well," Firrol explained, "You must've fought with some of their new recruits. But if you went after them, the whole guild will come after you to uphold their reputation."
"Should I worry about that?" Melvin asked, his meaning clear. He was already chased around in the city by several powers, what would be another one to the mix?
The moment that last word escaped his mouth, his whole body turned stiff.
Thanks to this new increase in ability, he could feel that his reactions had become considerably more acute. That was precisely why when the stillness followed the end of his speech was obstructed by something, he immediately noticed.
To his right, he heard a very faint whooshing sound prompting him to turn around and look. However, before his eyes could even register what was happening, a jolt of pain coursed through his body from his left shoulder. Glancing down, he saw a flying dagger firmly planted on his shoulder with blood oozing out of its edges.
His right arm swiftly moved behind his waistband and he retrieved his dagger with his eyes surveying the narrow hallway in front of him.
Just as his arm emerged from behind his back, a flying dagger cut through the air and stabbed him in his right wrist as a stream of blood gushed out.
The abruptness of the attack and the intensity of the pain in such a sensitive area made him unconsciously let go of his dagger and it fell down with a clinking sound.
Blood began rapidly coursing through his body as he registered all of these dangerous events, and his heart widely thumped in the side of his chest. His gaze reflexively looked at the wrist and then followed the dagger's fall, glancing up toward the passage in front of him leading to the outside.
There, he could see a hooded figure moving in his direction step by step.
The combination of all of these factors made him unconsciously retreat very slowly as an audible gulp echoed from his throat. He didn't even dare to look behind him as he walked back, afraid that the hooded figure would either lung at him with a terrifying strength or send another dagger at his throat this time.
Unknowingly his feet landed on a thick wooden stick on his way back, and as a result, he lost his balance and fell back landing with a strong thud on his butt. Still, although the fall was painful, his eyes remained fixated on the approaching figure.
Just as he was about to stand up, the figure increased the pace of their approach considerably. Afraid that he would be attacked in the time taken for him to stand up, he just kept crawling back, and finally he couldn't help but ask, "Whho.. are you?"
"Tsk," The figure clicked their tongue in annoyance and their steps came to a halt before an old voice was heard mumbling to himself, "They told me he was Classless. Fucking incompetent fools, do you they want to get me killed for a 100 gold coins?" Although the voice sounded aggrieved and annoyed, it lacked any semblance of fear at the newfound realization, a testament to their confidence.
"Wait, you got the wrong guy!" Melvin finally took advantage of the figure's momentary pause stood up and shouted.
Although he knew that what he was saying was nonsense, he was just trying to buy time for his now 40% Vitality Regeneration to show its capability and stop the bleeding from his wrist. He had already removed the dagger lodged there and carefully hid it in his left sleeve, but he didn't have the time nor opportunity to remove the other on his shoulder.
"Shut up brat." The hooded dark figure cursed before two long daggers fell down from his wide sleeves perfectly into his hands and lunged at Melvin.
"Firrol, Help!" Melvin said with an urgent voice.
Fortunately, the content of his shout managed to halt the figure's movement as he started surveying around with a careful expression.
Melvin instantly looked to his left, to see what the cat was doing, and to his absolute horror, he saw him making a huge leap before he started jumping around the stories in the lightwells, quickly reaching the roofs. He gave Melvin one last difficult apologetic look before he bolted in one direction and disappeared.
Witnessing all of this, Melvin was both shocked and furious. He knew that Firrol was a coward, but not to this degree. Moreover, he really believed he was building with him a good genuine rapport, and yet, as if to mock his expectations, the feline left him in such a vulnerable moment and left.
"Your cat seems to have chosen a life filled with fish instead of dying with you, don't blame her too much." The figure ridiculed after he understood that the mentioned Firrol was the cat.
"Fucking coward," Mumbled Melvin under his breath as he gnashed his teeth in both hatred and preparation for what he was about to do. He moved his free right arm which was sending a torrent of pain as it continued to blood and removed the flying dagger in his right shoulder and gripped it with everything that he had.
With two daggers in both hands, he slowly retreated into the wide hall where the big pile of wood was and hid behind it, awaiting the cloaked figure's approach.
An old bony hand uncovered the hood revealing the face of an old man with grey hair, sunken eyes and dry skin. A wide grin was plastered along the old man's face as he said, "Let's see what you got brat." He carefully approached him, body slightly bent in caution as his eyes locked into Melvin's every movement.
Melvin was petrified when he noticed that. This could be said to be the first time he was in an actual fight with someone who was aiming to take his life, and this person seemed clearly more experienced and vicious. Even his last two fights weren't as intense or serious as this.
He gulped once again, and his breathing couldn't help but become more rushed with all of the adrenaline and blood coursing through his body.
As the tense standoff continued in the wide hall, Melvin gripped his daggers tightly, his injured right wrist causing a sharp twinge of pain with every movement. Across from him, the old man approached with calculated steps, his long daggers glinting ominously in the morning light.
With a sudden surge, the old man leaped, his daggers aiming for Melvin's heart. Reacting swiftly, Melvin raised his blades to block, but the old man's strike skillfully moved one dagger to block whereas the other found its mark nonetheless, piercing Melvin's thigh.
As he stumbled backward, blood trickling from his legs, Melvin's mind raced, seeking an opening. Spotting the big pile of wood nearby, he seized the opportunity, shoving the old man with all his might using his left leg. The old man staggered, momentarily off balance.
Melvin's nonexistent confidence began to ignite once again at the sight, and he closed in.
But before he could strike, agony tore through Melvin's abdomen as the old man grinned and his dagger found its mark once more.
Ignoring the pain, Melvin retaliated, driving his own dagger deep into the attacker's shoulder.
The old man grunted in pain but pressed on, his experience both in enduring pain and fighting wasn't something someone like Melvin could challenge.
The fight intensified, each exchange fueled by both determination and desperation.
Melvin fought with all his strength, but the old man's skill proved formidable, and he even thought that he was toying with him. Blow after blow was exchanged, the clash of metal ringing through the hall.
Throughout the fight, Melvin though overwhelmed and scared couldn't help but notice a very peculiar sight. Whenever one of his attacks landed, he could feel an invisible energy coursing through his body out of nowhere, increasing his vitality. He understood that it was his 2% Lifesteal, with every attack he landed he would get back 2% of that attack in vitality, and not exactly 2% of his own Vitality.
Unfortunately, even with that subtle help, his inexperience in the fight proved to be too overwhelming. Not only were his skills subpar, but even in terms of energy used the two were incomparable.
Melvin seemed to be fighting with all of his strength and approached every attack as if it were the last. The old man on the other understood how to conserve his energy, and his movements were both minimalistic and precise.
As exhaustion began to take its toll, Melvin found himself on the defensive even though he had noticed that his agility and strength were slightly superior, and his movements began to grow sluggish.
With a final, decisive blow a swift flying leg to the stomach, the old man overwhelmed Melvin, sending the young boy crashing to the pile of wooden sticks with both daggers weakly escaping his grasp.
The darkness of the approaching old man closed in around Melvin as he lay there defeated, his breaths labored and ragged with unmistakable fear in his eyes. 'I am done for,' He thought with some unwillingness as his mind raced to find a solution.
"Wait." Melvin groaned in pain as he spoke, "Do you know why they want to kill me? I am just some random slum trash."
The old man's smile quickly disappeared replaced by a stone-cold expression and he continued his approach, uncaring for Melvin's words.
"It's because," Melvin yelled, "I know where there is a treasure."
The old man's steps paused, and his previously deadpan expression turned into an amused smile as he said, "That is the worst lie I've ever heard kid."
Melvin's eyes widened in both shock and horror as he saw the man with those deadly long daggers jumping toward him with a ruthless gleam flashing in his eyes.
Suddenly, the man's fast and steady charge went through a complete change. His expression was one of shock and fear as his charge became sluggish and unbalanced.
Without even thinking, Melvin knew that he had to act or else. Using a technique he had been practicing in his time off after he gained his strength he moved.
With a swift, fluid motion, Melvin coiled his legs beneath him, channeling his energy into the movement. In one seamless motion, he shot his legs upward, propelling himself into a standing position beside the wooden pile.
As he rose to his feet, all of his fears, pains, and grievances were channeled into one single kick that found itself cutting through the air with him before it perfectly landed between the man's legs. The warmth of the man's crotch quickly reached Melvin through his ankle as his ruthless gaze locked into the man's deathly pale face.
The old man cried in both misery and pain as his legs lost their strength and he found himself falling to his knees. However, Melvin wouldn't allow him to get that far. With a maddened look, he jumped at the man's neck as they both fell backward with Melvin on top and strangled him barehanded. He used so much force that his sharp nails gradually dug into the man's neck drawing blood as his eyes turned bloodshot and threatened to burst out.
Faced with the dual onslaught of his exploded testicles and strangled neck, the man weakly attempted to stab Melvin in the stomach. But a dark paw with glistening sharp claws easily hit the dagger off his hands.
Melvin's grip tightened even further as his jaws clenched in fear and hatred before he quickly destroyed the man's neck, killing him instantly.
[You have killed a Human Thief(Initiate: Rank 8). Team Efffort(92% Contribution), calculating...You have received 3400 XP]
Even after glimpsing the notification, his attention swiftly returned to his fists, which clenched tighter until they were firmly shut. With a swift gesture, he hurled the lump of meat in both directions. It made a wet splat as it struck the walls, then slowly began to slide down.
Heart still wildly thumping in his chest, he stood up and gazed at the feline who was looking at him with a complicated expression. He didn't say anything as he was frankly still in shock and too scared to even speak, so he just sat down beside the corpse looking at the pool of blood that was moving in his opposite direction due to the uneven ground.
With a sigh, Firrol said, "That's the Deep Sea Guild, and they're rather big in the city, going against them is tantamount to seeking death."
Confused, Melvin questioned, "How could they be?" He said, "I fought with them for a bit, and they weren't particularly strong."
"Well," Firrol explained, "You must've fought with some of their new recruits. But if you went after them, the whole guild will come after you to uphold their reputation."
"Should I worry about that?" Melvin asked, his meaning clear. He was already chased around in the city by several powers, what would be another one to the mix?
The moment that last word escaped his mouth, his whole body turned stiff.
Thanks to this new increase in ability, he could feel that his reactions had become considerably more acute. That was precisely why when the stillness followed the end of his speech was obstructed by something, he immediately noticed.
To his right, he heard a very faint whooshing sound prompting him to turn around and look. However, before his eyes could even register what was happening, a jolt of pain coursed through his body from his left shoulder. Glancing down, he saw a flying dagger firmly planted on his shoulder with blood oozing out of its edges.
His right arm swiftly moved behind his waistband and he retrieved his dagger with his eyes surveying the narrow hallway in front of him.
Just as his arm emerged from behind his back, a flying dagger cut through the air and stabbed him in his right wrist as a stream of blood gushed out.
The abruptness of the attack and the intensity of the pain in such a sensitive area made him unconsciously let go of his dagger and it fell down with a clinking sound.
Blood began rapidly coursing through his body as he registered all of these dangerous events, and his heart widely thumped in the side of his chest. His gaze reflexively looked at the wrist and then followed the dagger's fall, glancing up toward the passage in front of him leading to the outside.
There, he could see a hooded figure moving in his direction step by step.
The combination of all of these factors made him unconsciously retreat very slowly as an audible gulp echoed from his throat. He didn't even dare to look behind him as he walked back, afraid that the hooded figure would either lung at him with a terrifying strength or send another dagger at his throat this time.
Unknowingly his feet landed on a thick wooden stick on his way back, and as a result, he lost his balance and fell back landing with a strong thud on his butt. Still, although the fall was painful, his eyes remained fixated on the approaching figure.
Just as he was about to stand up, the figure increased the pace of their approach considerably. Afraid that he would be attacked in the time taken for him to stand up, he just kept crawling back, and finally he couldn't help but ask, "Whho.. are you?"
"Tsk," The figure clicked their tongue in annoyance and their steps came to a halt before an old voice was heard mumbling to himself, "They told me he was Classless. Fucking incompetent fools, do you they want to get me killed for a 100 gold coins?" Although the voice sounded aggrieved and annoyed, it lacked any semblance of fear at the newfound realization, a testament to their confidence.
"Wait, you got the wrong guy!" Melvin finally took advantage of the figure's momentary pause stood up and shouted.
Although he knew that what he was saying was nonsense, he was just trying to buy time for his now 40% Vitality Regeneration to show its capability and stop the bleeding from his wrist. He had already removed the dagger lodged there and carefully hid it in his left sleeve, but he didn't have the time nor opportunity to remove the other on his shoulder.
"Shut up brat." The hooded dark figure cursed before two long daggers fell down from his wide sleeves perfectly into his hands and lunged at Melvin.
"Firrol, Help!" Melvin said with an urgent voice.
Fortunately, the content of his shout managed to halt the figure's movement as he started surveying around with a careful expression.
Melvin instantly looked to his left, to see what the cat was doing, and to his absolute horror, he saw him making a huge leap before he started jumping around the stories in the lightwells, quickly reaching the roofs. He gave Melvin one last difficult apologetic look before he bolted in one direction and disappeared.
Witnessing all of this, Melvin was both shocked and furious. He knew that Firrol was a coward, but not to this degree. Moreover, he really believed he was building with him a good genuine rapport, and yet, as if to mock his expectations, the feline left him in such a vulnerable moment and left.
"Your cat seems to have chosen a life filled with fish instead of dying with you, don't blame her too much." The figure ridiculed after he understood that the mentioned Firrol was the cat.
"Fucking coward," Mumbled Melvin under his breath as he gnashed his teeth in both hatred and preparation for what he was about to do. He moved his free right arm which was sending a torrent of pain as it continued to blood and removed the flying dagger in his right shoulder and gripped it with everything that he had.
With two daggers in both hands, he slowly retreated into the wide hall where the big pile of wood was and hid behind it, awaiting the cloaked figure's approach.
An old bony hand uncovered the hood revealing the face of an old man with grey hair, sunken eyes and dry skin. A wide grin was plastered along the old man's face as he said, "Let's see what you got brat." He carefully approached him, body slightly bent in caution as his eyes locked into Melvin's every movement.
Melvin was petrified when he noticed that. This could be said to be the first time he was in an actual fight with someone who was aiming to take his life, and this person seemed clearly more experienced and vicious. Even his last two fights weren't as intense or serious as this.
He gulped once again, and his breathing couldn't help but become more rushed with all of the adrenaline and blood coursing through his body.
As the tense standoff continued in the wide hall, Melvin gripped his daggers tightly, his injured right wrist causing a sharp twinge of pain with every movement. Across from him, the old man approached with calculated steps, his long daggers glinting ominously in the morning light.
With a sudden surge, the old man leaped, his daggers aiming for Melvin's heart. Reacting swiftly, Melvin raised his blades to block, but the old man's strike skillfully moved one dagger to block whereas the other found its mark nonetheless, piercing Melvin's thigh.
As he stumbled backward, blood trickling from his legs, Melvin's mind raced, seeking an opening. Spotting the big pile of wood nearby, he seized the opportunity, shoving the old man with all his might using his left leg. The old man staggered, momentarily off balance.
Melvin's nonexistent confidence began to ignite once again at the sight, and he closed in.
But before he could strike, agony tore through Melvin's abdomen as the old man grinned and his dagger found its mark once more.
Ignoring the pain, Melvin retaliated, driving his own dagger deep into the attacker's shoulder.
The old man grunted in pain but pressed on, his experience both in enduring pain and fighting wasn't something someone like Melvin could challenge.
The fight intensified, each exchange fueled by both determination and desperation.
Melvin fought with all his strength, but the old man's skill proved formidable, and he even thought that he was toying with him. Blow after blow was exchanged, the clash of metal ringing through the hall.
Throughout the fight, Melvin though overwhelmed and scared couldn't help but notice a very peculiar sight. Whenever one of his attacks landed, he could feel an invisible energy coursing through his body out of nowhere, increasing his vitality. He understood that it was his 2% Lifesteal, with every attack he landed he would get back 2% of that attack in vitality, and not exactly 2% of his own Vitality.
Unfortunately, even with that subtle help, his inexperience in the fight proved to be too overwhelming. Not only were his skills subpar, but even in terms of energy used the two were incomparable.
Melvin seemed to be fighting with all of his strength and approached every attack as if it were the last. The old man on the other understood how to conserve his energy, and his movements were both minimalistic and precise.
As exhaustion began to take its toll, Melvin found himself on the defensive even though he had noticed that his agility and strength were slightly superior, and his movements began to grow sluggish.
With a final, decisive blow a swift flying leg to the stomach, the old man overwhelmed Melvin, sending the young boy crashing to the pile of wooden sticks with both daggers weakly escaping his grasp.
The darkness of the approaching old man closed in around Melvin as he lay there defeated, his breaths labored and ragged with unmistakable fear in his eyes. 'I am done for,' He thought with some unwillingness as his mind raced to find a solution.
"Wait." Melvin groaned in pain as he spoke, "Do you know why they want to kill me? I am just some random slum trash."
The old man's smile quickly disappeared replaced by a stone-cold expression and he continued his approach, uncaring for Melvin's words.
"It's because," Melvin yelled, "I know where there is a treasure."
The old man's steps paused, and his previously deadpan expression turned into an amused smile as he said, "That is the worst lie I've ever heard kid."
Melvin's eyes widened in both shock and horror as he saw the man with those deadly long daggers jumping toward him with a ruthless gleam flashing in his eyes.
Suddenly, the man's fast and steady charge went through a complete change. His expression was one of shock and fear as his charge became sluggish and unbalanced.
Without even thinking, Melvin knew that he had to act or else. Using a technique he had been practicing in his time off after he gained his strength he moved.
With a swift, fluid motion, Melvin coiled his legs beneath him, channeling his energy into the movement. In one seamless motion, he shot his legs upward, propelling himself into a standing position beside the wooden pile.
As he rose to his feet, all of his fears, pains, and grievances were channeled into one single kick that found itself cutting through the air with him before it perfectly landed between the man's legs. The warmth of the man's crotch quickly reached Melvin through his ankle as his ruthless gaze locked into the man's deathly pale face.
The old man cried in both misery and pain as his legs lost their strength and he found himself falling to his knees. However, Melvin wouldn't allow him to get that far. With a maddened look, he jumped at the man's neck as they both fell backward with Melvin on top and strangled him barehanded. He used so much force that his sharp nails gradually dug into the man's neck drawing blood as his eyes turned bloodshot and threatened to burst out.
Faced with the dual onslaught of his exploded testicles and strangled neck, the man weakly attempted to stab Melvin in the stomach. But a dark paw with glistening sharp claws easily hit the dagger off his hands.
Melvin's grip tightened even further as his jaws clenched in fear and hatred before he quickly destroyed the man's neck, killing him instantly.
[You have killed a Human Thief(Initiate: Rank 8). Team Efffort(92% Contribution), calculating...You have received 3400 XP]
Even after glimpsing the notification, his attention swiftly returned to his fists, which clenched tighter until they were firmly shut. With a swift gesture, he hurled the lump of meat in both directions. It made a wet splat as it struck the walls, then slowly began to slide down.
Heart still wildly thumping in his chest, he stood up and gazed at the feline who was looking at him with a complicated expression. He didn't say anything as he was frankly still in shock and too scared to even speak, so he just sat down beside the corpse looking at the pool of blood that was moving in his opposite direction due to the uneven ground.
