Chapter 124: Character

Kael kept a lookout on the map and his surrounding as he moved. He was making sure that they were neither being tailed or tracked by monster or people.

The streets on the way back felt different than they had earlier, not because the rubble had moved, but because Kael’s brain had. Every shadow looked like it could hide a pair of eyes. Every open window looked like a mouth waiting to whisper.

The city was still the same carcass of broken masonry and torn beams, but now he could taste the risk in the air, that thin metallic tang that came when violence had been nearby recently. He kept his pace steady, not rushed enough to draw attention, not slow enough to invite it. His eyes did most of the work, but the mini-map was the real leash in his mind. It didn’t make him safe. It only told him where danger was deciding to stand.

Peter kept glancing back over his shoulder toward the direction of the office building, as if he expected the Atrax to spill out into the streets and follow them like loyal nightmares.

“Is it okay to return like this man?” Peter asked. His grip on the borrowed axe was still tight, and his shoulders were still raised, the posture of someone who hadn’t realized the fight was over yet.

Even when the streets were quiet, he moved like he was still in a staircase with legs tapping behind him.

“It’s fine, I told you, it’s not easy to hunt while rushed, and most goblins are hiding, we probably got more cores than anyone else in the clan, hand a portion over and you’ll be overlooked, just don’t show the boss you have too much, or you’ll be asked to bring more… expectations are a dangerous thing,” Kael finished.

Kael didn’t slow down when he replied. He kept walking, eyes forward, voice low. He didn’t speak like a man giving advice. He spoke like a man reading a rule off a wall.

The boss didn’t need to like them.

The boss needed to see value.

Value came with a price, and the price was always the same. The moment people believed you could produce, they would demand production until you broke.

Peter thought for a second and looked at Kael, “You sure you died in floor one?” he asked.

The question carried more weight than Peter probably intended. Peter had seen too much today to keep believing Kael was just some unlucky first-floor corpse.

Kael frowned, “Why do you keep bringing this up?”

His eyes didn’t leave the street, but his irritation did. It wasn’t anger. It was the kind of annoyance you felt when someone kept poking a bruise and acting surprised you didn’t enjoy it.

“Like, I’m not trying to glaze you, but you’re wise.”

Peter said it awkwardly, like he hated the words as they left his mouth.

“That’s not a word I’d describe myself with,” Kael kept his eyes watching but his mind thinking of what Peter was saying.

“No, I’m being serious, like. Only climbers who climbed a lot can have that type of insight and that sort of risk management. Like no normal person would jump down the building like what you did. Or have the insight to keep what he earned and not give it to the boss for praise.”

Peter’s voice lowered at the end, as if saying “boss” too loud might summon him. His eyes tracked Kael’s posture, the way he moved without wasting effort, the way his gaze never floated.

“Praise doesn’t feed you, been the same way back on earth for me too.” Kael said.

The words came out flat, almost tired. Kael’s mouth twitched like he almost wanted to laugh at the idea of praise being worth anything at all. Praise was a sound. Hunger was a knife. Only one of those killed you.

“Mind if I ask what you did for work?” Peter asked.

Kael didn’t answer immediately. Not because it was a sensitive question, but because it was information, and information was currency. Still, Peter was walking behind him with a weapon in hand. Keeping him calm mattered.

“Construction, I was once a mechanical engineer student. Good grades, good attendance, and had a future. Till mana poisoning hit. I couldn’t continue studying had to take care of my mother, so I ended up shoved into the real world.” Kael didn’t seek pity with his words, merely understanding.

He said it like he was listing materials, not feelings. Kael didn’t allow his voice to crack. He didn’t allow the memory to slow his steps. The city didn’t care about the story behind his exhaustion. The Tower cared even less.

“Thanks to that, I got to know the reality of people far too early in life. No one would do you a favor just for the sake of it, everyone will want to get something from you, even if you have nothing. Pity is wasted on someone who cannot afford to pay it back. Laws I lived by and learned the hard way,” Kael said.

The words fit him too well. They weren’t philosophy. They were scars turned into sentences.

Kael’s eyes flicked briefly to a broken storefront where a few figures lay hiding, their green dots still and silent. People didn’t help because they were good. People helped because they expected repayment, even if that repayment was just the comfort of believing they were decent.

“Damn, didn’t mean to fuck up the mood mate, sorry about that.”

Peter’s apology sounded sincere, which made it awkward. Sincerity felt out of place in this city.

“I’m not your mate,” Kael said.

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t threaten. He just corrected, cleanly and coldly, like drawing a boundary with a knife.

“Ah… still hung up on the bottle.”

Peter tried to make it lighter, like calling it “a bottle” made it smaller than what it was. Kael didn’t let him shrink it.

“You wouldn’t?” Kael asked.

The question didn’t need emphasis. It didn’t need anger. It carried its own weight. Peter had handed him poison with a smile. Whether Peter poured it or not didn’t matter. He delivered it.

“Fair enough, was a dick move, I’ll not act like it didn’t happen.”

Peter’s jaw tightened as he admitted it. It was the first time he didn’t hide behind excuses or the boss’s orders. Kael noted that.

“Your dick move almost killed me,” Kael said, “So don’t think we’re chummy just because we survived a day in the tower.”

Kael didn’t slow. His steps stayed even, but his shoulders tightened slightly, the way they did when he was speaking from a place that still burned.

Kael looked up, “We’re being watched.”

He said it casually, almost bored, but the timing of it made Peter’s posture snap stiff. Kael’s eyes didn’t widen. He didn’t search wildly. He simply knew.

“How’d you know that,” Peter said as he looked around, there was nothing but dilapidated buildings all over the street they were walking.

Peter spun his head too much, too fast, scanning windows and doorways like he expected an arrow to appear. The street looked empty, but empty meant nothing in a place where people hid as a lifestyle.

“Remember, I have a good nose,” Kael said then went ahead of Peter.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep