Chapter 62: Trading with A Demon

Kael simply walked out of the gate. He had thought that they would make him stay longer inside, maybe threaten, or outright take him out for the death of John. But the boss simply let him go. Which was strange. The boss was paranoid, controlling, and practical. Men like that rarely let loose ends wander freely unless they were confident the loose end would either return on a leash… or be cut later, where nobody had to watch.

Though it didn’t mean Kael would trust them, he felt that something was wrong, so he could only trust his instincts and move away from the base for now. He didn’t sprint, not yet. Sprinting drew attention, and he didn’t want to look like prey bolting from a predator’s den. Instead, he kept a light jog, enough to build distance, enough to feel like he was “hurrying” the way the boss ordered him to.

Just as Kael had crossed half of the distance in a light jog, and when the sky’s red began darkening some more, he noticed that his mini-map was showing him what he worried about. A couple green dots were closely following him. Not trailing far behind like accidental travelers. Close enough that they were moving with his rhythm, matching his turns, adjusting when he adjusted. That wasn’t a coincidence. That was intent.

He didn’t have any large turns or detours to take; there was barely a corner or two to cross before he’d reach the shop. By crossing the first and noticing the dots had done the same, his suspicion became reality. He was being followed.

It was probably the boss’s orders. Either follow him and see what he was up to. Or silence him away from the camp and from other eyes.

Kael’s throat dried again, and this time it wasn’t from heat. He could almost hear the logic of it: don’t make a scene inside the base, don’t let members see you kill someone who “helped,” don’t risk internal fracture. Men like the boss cared about control more than cruelty. If Kael needed to disappear, he’d do it clean.

Perhaps he couldn’t kill Kael inside the camp because it would make him lose control over the other members. And so he wanted to get rid of him where eyes didn’t see.

The idea was merely a theory, but it could also be reality. In the Tower, theory and reality often became the same thing the moment you stopped moving.

Kael picked up the pace despite the injuries and headed toward the shop. The burns complained immediately, his arm tightening, his back stinging under the crisped fabric, but his legs had more to give than his pain wanted to admit.

He leaned into the jog until it became a run, careful not to stumble on broken pavement. He kept his breathing shallow, quiet, and he didn’t look back too often, looking back made you lose steps.

The two dots found it difficult to catch up to him; he was far faster than they were, all thanks to his title and the boost of stats it gave. He didn’t worry much about them if they didn’t have the ability to catch up to him naturally.

Still, he didn’t relax. A slower enemy didn’t need to catch you if they could cut you off, or if they were waiting for you to stop at a door.

Soon he arrived to the shop, thankfully his worries were unfounded. The neon signs were all lit up. And the convenience store that sold weapons of mass destruction and snacks at the same time seemed to still be open for business.

The glow spilled onto the street like a promise that someone here still obeyed commerce, even at the end of the world. Kael’s shoulders loosened by a fraction. Not safety, just familiarity.

“Baltak,” Kael said as he pushed the door open. The bell didn’t jingle like a normal store, but the sound of the door moving still felt loud in the quiet.

The small imp jumped, “You scared me right there,” he replied, clutching his chest dramatically with one hand like he was about to faint. His eyes were quick, though, darting over Kael’s scorched clothes and burned arm the way a merchant assessed damage on a product.

“A manager gets scared? That’s a first.” Kael replied, trying to sound casual even as his nerves kept scanning for the dots outside.

“Yeah, no one knows my real name, besides that damn… Ehm, besides that one, anyway, I was about to close. You need anything?” Baltak’s mouth moved fast, as if he’d nearly said something he regretted. Then he snapped back into business mode, like the Tower itself punished him for lingering on personal details.

“Injured, need me a potion.” Kael didn’t waste time. He didn’t sit. He didn’t lean. He just stood at the counter like a man racing a clock.

“I have a few, scan away, don’t waste too much time though.” He said. The way he emphasized too much time made Kael’s skin prickle.

Either Baltak knew something was coming… or he just liked reminding customers that time always cost extra.

“Sure by the way, do you buy stuff?” Kael asked, sliding into the next necessity. Every core mattered now. He wasn’t leaving this place just because his burns stopped hurting.

“Yes, of course, all sorts, if you want to sell anything, put it over the counter, and a price for it will show up.” Baltak gestured at the worn counter surface like it was a sacred altar.

Kael nodded and placed the stone axe he got from killing the goblin next to the boss of the first floor. The axe thudded dully, crude and ugly, still smelling faintly of goblin sweat and smoke.

***

[Crude Goblin Stone Axe]

1 Core

***

The price was one core, it wasn’t bad. Kael’s mind did the math instantly, greedily, the way survival forced you to. ’That’s neat, if I get to kill a goblin and get their weapons, that’s already two cores. I need to start farming for real,’ Kael thought, and the thought came with a grim taste because farming meant killing until your hands forgot what hesitating felt like.

“By the way, is it true that people can’t get thirsty here?” Kael asked. He kept his voice light, as if it was casual curiosity. It wasn’t. It was a test. A question with teeth.

“Others, no, you… you’re different. Unlike everyone else, food and water is only a mean to fill themselves, you on the other hand can benefit from them, you’re alive after all.” Baltak said. The words landed heavy, not because Kael didn’t already suspect it, but because hearing it from Baltak made it feel official.

“Thanks,” Kael said, and as he spoke, he pulled out the bottle he got from Peter. The plastic felt oddly warm in his hand from his body heat, and for a second, he actually imagined drinking it, cold water washing soot out of his throat. Just as he was about to drink it, he thought about how much it could be worth, for something that wasn’t part of the system. A petty thought. A merchant’s thought. A survival thought.

***

[Poisoned Water Bottle]

1 Core

***

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