I stayed glued to the wall as they walked and then fell to my knees, cursing.

  “Karzi. Karzi!”

  When I stumbled out of the tunnel, the woman in question was mercifully nowhere in sight, though her irritating howls pierced the quiet from somewhere distant.

  Good.

  Hopefully, she’d keep herself busy elsewhere, preferably permanently.

  I hurried toward what now passed for our makeshift camp, squinting under the glare of the midday sun that baked the dusty steppe into brittle flakes.

  In my absence, the slavers had apparently decided to pretend like they knew how to organize things. A half-hearted dirt palisade, okay, more dirt than palisade, had been shoved up hastily around the tents. The whole arrangement looked like a bored Twir had kicked over a pile of canvas sheets and sticks, scattering dozens of tents across the field in lazy disarray.

  I strode into camp, chin up, radiating the casual confidence of someone who totally belonged here and definitely hadn’t just nearly died in a termite-infested hole.

  Nobody noticed.

  Or cared.

  The wolves lounged around like oversized house pets, tongues lolling and eyes half-shut, clearly more invested in nap time than supervision. A single half-wolf man cooked something questionable over a sputtering fire, lazily prodding it with a stick while other almost-humans idled nearby, chatting or dozing.

  Predictably, it was only us slaves who bustled about with exaggerated urgency, darting from task to task like ants whose nest had just been kicked.

  Great, at least the illusion of being busy would help me blend in.

  I joined the queue for lunch, a surprisingly appetizing scent drifting over me. The food had leveled up from yesterday’s despair porridge, and when my turn came, the grumpy-looking cook dumped a generous ladleful of stew into my bowl. It was thick, hot, and loaded with chunks of meat. Hopefully meat.

  The savory aroma alone nearly made me weep with gratitude.

  “Seconds?” I asked after a while, flashing the cook my best pleading-puppy eyes. He grunted irritably, but obliged. Score.

  Replacing my shield, however, proved trickier.

  The pile of battered equipment looked even sadder than before, a depressing graveyard of splintered wood and dented metal. I tossed my ruined shield onto the growing heap and rummaged through what remained, muttering Karzi curses under my breath as I rejected oversized, unwieldy slabs and shields shaped like drunken Twir experiments.

  Stupid Karzi, can’t even find proper equipment.

  Finally, at the bottom of the stack, I found a square steel shield, dented but solid. It was heavier than the wooden one. Well, with sturdy padding lined the back, but reassuringly capable of taking more punishment than I hoped to endure again.

  Satisfied, I hefted it onto my back with a smirk, feeling strangely victorious despite the day’s many humiliations.

  Turning away, I eyed the sprawling network of termite tunnels dotting the land. So many choices. Picking one at random further from camp, maybe the termites hadn’t caught wind of how pathetic I was yet.

  I squared my shoulders and took a determined breath. “Alright, round two. Hopefully, I can suck significantly less this time.”

  I didn’t meet another warrior until I dared go down into the deeper levels, probably deeper than I had any business going.

  The air was warmer here, thick and humid, coating everything with a slippery sheen that smelled faintly of rot and resin. I paused at another fork in the tunnel. Maybe the twentieth one, if my overworked mental tally was accurate.

  Eyeing the dark, winding tunnels critically, I adjusted my grip on my new shield. I hadn’t needed it much yet, but this fight would definitely demand it. Just ahead were two warriors, each hulking and formidable, surrounded by six smaller termites diligently carving new tunnels. The warriors stood guard at the tunnel entrances, their mandibles twitching impatiently, while the smaller ones worked with relentless efficiency. One warrior was mere feet away, its bulk almost blocking the tunnel ahead.

  “Alright, Charlie,” I muttered, tightening the shield straps around my forearm. “Karzi would absolutely wreck you if you were still level one, so let’s not embarrass ourselves.” I took a breath, nerves jangling with adrenaline. “Run in, kill one, retreat. Ez plan.”

  My gaze flicked down to the hole I’d painstakingly carved earlier. It wasn’t as deep or clever as those I’d made to trap the Goolems, but it should be enough to trip up a charging bug.

  “For the glory of Karzi wolves!” I yelled cheesy line, launching forward, my voice echoing dramatically through the tunnel. “Dieeeeeeeee!”

  Of course, the termites reacted immediately, with zero hesitation. Their reaction speed was irritatingly impressive.

  The moment I stepped into view, they spun around and charged.

  I slammed my sword directly into the nearest warrior’s face, aiming right between its grotesque, gleaming compound eyes.

  It wasn’t a kill shot. Obviously, it wasn’t.

  But that was fine.

  I immediately dashed back toward my tunnel, the smaller termites and the uninjured warrior hot on my heels. I ran fast, but not quite fast enough. Their skittering legs churned behind me like the world’s creepiest stampede. Thankfully, past Charlie had enough foresight to dig the hole relatively close. With a desperate leap, I vaulted smoothly over it.

  The warrior charging right behind me wasn’t so lucky. It crashed spectacularly into the hole, mandibles lodged awkwardly in the tunnel wall, struggling fruitlessly.

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  Taking advantage of its helplessness, I yanked mana up from deep within, molding it quickly into a long, pointed lance. Okay, icicle… My breath frosted briefly in the air as the lance-icicle crystallized in my hand.

  “For Karzi! Dieeeee!” I screamed dramatically, plunging the icy spike through its twitching skull.

  The warrior shuddered violently, then fell still. Its smaller cousins surged toward me, but by now I’d killed so many of these little pests that my moves felt almost automatic.

  Jump, stab with icicle. Jump, stab with icicle. Jump—

  The first, injured warrior exploded back, my sword still grotesquely protruding from its eye socket. My body remembered its warrior instincts, and I instinctively raised my shield to meet its charge head-on. Unfortunately, reality had different plans.

  The impact hurled me backward through the air, slamming me brutally against the tunnel wall with enough force to knock my breath out.

  “What the hell?!” I gasped, scrambling up as it charged again. This time I summoned another lance-icicle, driving it directly into its other compound eye. “Honestly, no idea why you even have eyes, but I’m not gonna question it in case the system decides to patch that weakness.”

  It collapsed heavily, legs twitching erratically. Grabbing my sword back, I methodically dispatched the rest of the smaller termites.

  Looking over the chaos, ichor splattered everywhere and bodies scattered in broken heaps, I nodded slowly, pride tingling through me. “Well, Charlie. Looks like you’ve actually improved.”

  The system apparently agreed.

  I glared at the screen hovering obnoxiously in front of me. “Wow, you’ve gotten real sassy since turning me into an NPC. Can I at least get my warrior skills back?”

  I rolled my eyes, crossed my arms, and stomped furiously back up the tunnel. Halfway through my childish sulk, I caught myself and froze.

  Wait a second… am I seriously throwing a tantrum right now? What am I, thirteen? Why am I acting… probably hormones. Yeah, hormones. Not because I like it.

  With a sigh, I spent the rest of the ascent mulling over these troubling new impulses, finally deciding that maybe, just maybe, these changes were improvements.

  Mostly.

  Still, maturity introspection aside, I had to keep fighting my way upward, because of course, the insufferable critters had already patched their tunnels like obsessive little architects.

  By the time I emerged, daylight had softened into dusk, bathing the steppe in muted shades of amber and violet. Before rejoining the camp, I ducked discreetly behind some nearby brush to handle nature’s call. I’d seen their so-called latrine setup: basically an open-air humiliation booth visible to half the camp. Maybe that worked in a dense forest, but here?

  Absolutely not.

  Walking confidently back into camp, I was immediately stopped by a slaver gripping an odd yellow stone. “Touch,” he growled impatiently.

  “Uh… yes?” I blinked, quickly hiding my confusion behind a rehearsed blank expression and obediently placed my hand on the stone.

  A faint trickle of my mana flowed into the stone, prompting two vibrant green streaks to ripple across its surface. The slaver nodded, turning to shout over his shoulder, “Two levels in a day!”

  “That’s mage power!” Karzi boasted, cackling gleefully before throwing her head back and releasing another ear-splitting howl. “Every level is worth thousands in gold!”

  I forced a small smile, nodding politely as I headed straight toward the meal queue.

  Dinner appeared suspiciously identical to lunch, and I quietly prayed that the hearty chunks of meat weren’t termite-sourced, though optimism wasn’t exactly high on my list today.

  As the remaining slaves straggled back into camp, I mostly ignored the murmured chatter and Karzi’s irritable snarls about casualties. She wasn’t upset about the dead slaves; she was irritated the termites killed them, not other slaves.

  Eventually, the camp quieted as darkness crept fully in, signaling it was finally time to collapse into sleep. Or, at least, whatever passed for sleep in my case.

  I woke up again in the familiar shadows of the bell tower, moonlight filtering softly through the slats above. “We’re alive!” Jerry protested irritably from my wrist.

  “Tell me about it,” I whispered back, relieved. But before I could fully gather myself, I was wrapped up in a sudden hug from behind.

  “Charlie!” It was Lola’s bright voice. “This is so weird!” She spun me gently around, studying me as if I were some rare artifact. Though, considering there probably weren’t many elves on Earth, maybe that wasn’t too far off. I gave her my best mischievous grin.

  “Hey! Hands off the chest merchandise!” I mock-pouted, stepping back slightly. “But seriously, it’s great to see you.”

  Lola’s breath caught sharply, and she flushed bright red, pulling her hands back quickly and shaking her head. “I wasn’t—”

  “She’s messing with you,” Lucy called dryly from deeper inside the tower. “So, J… I mean, Charlie, how was your day?”

  I glanced warmly between the two of them and couldn’t suppress my growing smile. “It just got a hundred times better. Between the snarky system notifications and Karzi’s questionable motivational techniques, it was… challenging.”

  Lola stepped forward again, embracing me once more, and I hugged her back warmly.

  Apparently, I’m officially a hugger now. Who knew?

  Coming home after a grueling day of battling bugs in grimy tunnels to find myself surrounded by two genuinely wonderful, beautiful… friends, was more than I could’ve hoped for.

  We quickly agreed that my random logging-off sessions weren’t sustainable long-term. Lola pointed out how it was unclear what might happen if someone was standing where I was supposed to reappear or if I suddenly vanished mid-taxi ride which we were getting.

  “Oh, that’s fiiine!” I laughed, waving her concerns away breezily. “I trust the Seed. Sure, it’s annoyingly stingy to give back my warrior skills, but I’m pretty sure it knows what it’s doing.”

  Lola glanced nervously toward the taxi driver up front and whispered urgently, “Couldn’t we have gotten a self-driving one?”

  “Funny, you didn’t seem to mind a few months ago,” Lucy teased, nudging me gently from the other side. Yep, I was sandwiched comfortably between them in the backseat. Truly living the dream.

  “Things have changed,” I admitted softly. “I’ve changed. Now, I appreciate human effort.”

  “So, can you even hold a job now? How do you plan on paying rent?” Lucy shifted conversation. Lola immediately snorted, prompting Lucy to look suspiciously at her. “What?”

  “She doesn’t need to worry about rent,” Lola said proudly, lifting her chin. “I’m taking care of that.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s right,” I chimed in playfully. “How are Darius and Tom doing? Or how is Brute One and Brute Three? Honestly, I really should learn my employees’ names.”

  Lucy pinched my shoulder sharply. “Shut up, you have employees?” Her tone was skeptical, half doubtfull, half amused.

  “Well, Riker gifted me the company, didn’t he?” I looked at Lola for confirmation.

  “I think so. But it was off the books; nothing’s officially registered… Before or now,” Lola confirmed with a nod. “Plus, there’s the production company. That’s where the real money is coming from.”

  “Wait, Riker?” Lucy narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “THE Riker?”

  I groaned, shaking my head in despair. “Ugh, THE Riker with his endless monologues? Please, don’t remind me.”