CORES EQUALS MONEY!

The goblins' snarls grew louder, echoing through the alley. Their feral eyes locked onto the trio, filled with primal hunger.

The figure in the hooded cloak remained motionless, his gloved hand still resting on his cheek, exuding an air of casual indifference.

Ravan's shout had given him the permission he seemed to be waiting for.

In an instant, the man rose, his movements fluid and almost serpentine.

He shifted into a low stance, one leg stretched back and the other bent, his fists clenched at his sides.

Ravan could barely believe his eyes as the figure launched forward with explosive speed, closing the distance to the first goblin in the blink of an eye.

The first goblin barely had time to react before the man's fist slammed into its chest with a sickening crunch.

Bones shattered under the impact, the goblin's ribcage collapsing inward as it was flung backward, its body slamming into the alley wall and leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

The man spun around, his leg lashing out in a powerful roundhouse kick that connected with the head of the next goblin, sending it flying into the air.

The creature's neck snapped with a gruesome crack, its head twisted at an unnatural angle as it landed in a crumpled heap.

Ravan watched in awe and horror as the masked figure moved through the goblins like a force of nature.

He didn't use any weapons or magic, just his bare hands and feet, each strike delivered with deadly precision.

The alley became a battlefield, the air filled with the sounds of bones breaking, flesh tearing, and the goblins' dying screams.

One goblin lunged at the man, claws extended, but he caught its arm in mid-air, twisting it violently.

The goblin's arm snapped, bone jutting through its green skin, and it howled in agony.

The man followed up with a brutal knee to its face, the force of the blow caving in its skull.

Brain matter and blood splattered across the alley as the goblin's lifeless body collapsed to the ground.

Two more goblins attacked simultaneously, but the man ducked under their swipes, his movements graceful and almost dance-like.

He drove his elbow into the gut of one goblin, doubling it over, then grabbed it by the head and smashed its face into the knee of the other goblin.

Blood sprayed as their faces collided, teeth and bone fragments scattering.

Ravan's mind raced as he watched the carnage unfold.

How could someone harbor such strength?

From the look of it, the man didn't seem to be using mana at all.

If he had, he would likely have used spells or some form of magic.

Instead, his fighting style resembled that of a martial artist, relying on physical prowess and technique rather than mystical energy.

The man's fists and feet were relentless, each strike more brutal than the last. He moved with a ferocity and efficiency that bordered on inhuman.

One goblin tried to flee, but the man leaped after it, his hand shooting out to grab its ankle. He yanked the creature off its feet and swung it like a ragdoll, smashing its head against the cobblestones until it was nothing more than a bloody pulp.

Another goblin managed to get behind him, raising a crude knife to stab him, but the man's reflexes were lightning-fast. He spun around, catching the goblin's wrist and twisting it until the bones broke.

The knife clattered to the ground, and the man grabbed the goblin's jaw, wrenching it open before tearing its head clean off with a sickening rip. Blood gushed from the severed neck, the body twitching before collapsing in a heap.

Ravan felt his stomach churn at the sight, bile rising in his throat. He had never witnessed such raw brutality.

The man was a whirlwind of destruction, tearing through the goblins with an ease that was both mesmerizing and horrifying.

He dispatched the last goblin with a powerful uppercut, the force lifting the creature off its feet and sending it crashing to the ground, its neck broken and head lolling limply.

The alley was now littered with the remains of the goblins, their blood pooling on the cobblestones.

The man stood amidst the carnage, his hood still shadowing his eyes, but the intensity of his gaze was palpable.

He seemed almost bored, as if this massacre had been a trivial task.

"How boring,"he began muttering.

"But can't blame them, low rank Rooms have the weakest beasts after all."

'Weak?'

'I almost lost my life...'

Ravan's mind reeled.

How could someone possess such terrifying strength without the aid of mana?

The man's fighting style was unlike anything he had ever seen, a brutal ballet of fists and kicks that left nothing but death in its wake.

As the man turned his gaze to Ravan and Lee, Ravan felt a chill run down his spine.

This stranger, whoever he was, had just saved their lives, but the sheer violence of his actions left Ravan questioning whether they were any safer now than they had been moments ago.

"You guys are from the Blacksmith Department, right?" the man asked again, his voice calm despite the gore surrounding him.

Ravan swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he replied, "Y-yes, we are."

The man's lips curled into a faint smile. "Good. Now, about that deal…"

Ravan stared at the man, trying to process the surreal turn of events.

Making a deal with a stranger in a dark alley after witnessing a massacre was far from ordinary, but this was no ordinary situation.

The man stood amidst the carnage, unfazed, and it was clear that he wasn't someone to be trifled with.

"I have a proposal for you," the man said, his voice calm and almost casual.

He went back a bit into the alleyway and pulled out a heavy bag, dropping it in front of Ravan with a thud.

"These are mana cores. I need weapons made from them, specifically daggers. If you two are capable, that is."

Ravan's eyes widened as he looked at the bag.

Mana cores were incredibly valuable, the lifeblood of the Tower Walkers and Room Walkers.

Each core represented a beast felled, a challenge overcome, and a significant amount of money.

Handling such a task outside of official channels was risky, but the potential rewards were immense.

He thought carefully before responding. Normally, requests for weapons would go through the main desk at the Blacksmith Department, where tasks were distributed according to skill and availability.

Taking on a private commission was unconventional, but the sheer weight of the bag suggested a substantial number of cores.

This could mean a significant payment, and Ravan needed every advantage he could get.

Without needing Lee's input—Lee was still unconscious, after all—Ravan met the man's gaze and asked, "And what about the price? Will it be reasonable and highly rewarding?"

The man's lips curved into a slight smile, and he nodded.

"Yes, the payment will be substantial. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Ravan considered the offer. He was taking a gamble, but it was a calculated one.

This could be his opportunity to gain resources and perhaps a bit of leverage in this unforgiving world.

"Alright," he said finally.

"We have a deal. When and where should I deliver the weapons?"

The man's eyes seemed to twinkle with satisfaction.

"There's an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, near the old market district. Bring the finished daggers there in two weeks' time, at midnight. I will find you."

Ravan nodded, committing the location and time to memory.

The man extended his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, Ravan shook it.

The stranger's grip was firm and cold, a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded moments before.

"Until then," the man said, and without another word, he vanished into the shadows of the alley, as if he were never there.

Ravan took a deep breath, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

He turned to Lee, who lay slumped against the wall, his face contorted in pain.

Just as he was about to check on him, Lailah emerged from the direction they had come, her clothes drenched in green goblin blood, her axe still in hand.

"They're sending in Room Walkers to clean up and close the Room," she said, her voice tired but steady.

"Are you two alright?"

Ravan nodded, then motioned to Lee.

"He's hurt, but we need to get him back to the Department."

Lailah quickly assessed Lee's condition and helped Ravan lift him.

Together, they carried him back through the silent city streets, the first light of dawn just beginning to break through the dark sky.

The weight of the mana cores in the bag was a constant reminder of the new responsibility Ravan had taken on.

As they made their way back to the Blacksmith Department, Ravan couldn't help but think about the masked man's strength and the opportunity that lay ahead.

This was just the beginning, and he was determined to see it through, no matter the cost.

"A step closer to immense wealth."