Prepare for trouble.

"Excuse me? I think my hearing must be playing tricks on me. Did you just accuse me of murder?" Lili asked, narrowing her eyes. She could feel her temper rising, a slow burn that simmered beneath her skin. In her disguise as a pallum male, she kept her voice steady, her face a mask of indifference, but inside, she was seething.

Korg, the dwarf behind the counter, sighed heavily, putting the gear back down with a soft clink. He wore a grubby apron that had seen better days, and his beard was thick and gray, streaked with the soot and grime of the forge. His hands were rough, calloused from years of handling metal, and he wiped them absently on his apron as if trying to clean off something that wasn't there.

"Look, kid," he grunted, his voice gruff, "I ain't no saint, and I've done my fair share of shady deals, but I got a line I won't cross. And bringin' in gear with blood not even an hour old? That's pushin' it too far."

Lili's jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing further. "I'm not interested in your moral high ground, Korg. I'm here to sell, not listen to a sermon. The gear's decent quality, and you know it. What's it matter where it came from?" She leaned in a little closer, her tone turning sharp, mocking. "You suddenly got a moral boner or something?"

The dwarf's frown deepened. "Don't mock me, kid. I know you're smart enough to understand. Blood on these pieces means someone died for 'em, and I don't want that kinda heat. Not from the Guild, not from nobody."

Lili could barely contain her irritation. It was almost laughable, really. This guy, of all people, lecturing her.

She felt no guilt, not a single pang of remorse. After all, she hadn't dealt the final blow. If anything, she'd just shot a random arrow, and fate had taken care of the rest. She wasn't the one who decided those adventurers' fate—just the one who took advantage of it.

"They were drunk," she said dismissively, shrugging her shoulders. "Killed by monsters right in front of me. It's not my fault they couldn't handle their drink or their swords." Her excuse was weak, and she knew it, but despite the Guild's best attempts over the years, there was no dungeon police, no one alive who could find fault with her words.

Korg looked at her carefully, his gaze softening a little. "I ain't sayin' you did anything, boyo," he said slowly. "But I can't keep doin' business with you if you're bringin' me stuff that's gonna raise eyebrows. It's bad for business, bad for me. You understand, right?"

She pretended to get angry, her face twisting into a scowl. "So what? You're gonna turn me away now? After all the good deals we've had?" Her voice rose, her tone sharp and biting. The dwarf flinched a little, cowed by her sudden outburst.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll give you one and a half times what the gear's worth. But that's it. You take it, and you get lost. And don't come back."

Lili snorted, taking the money and shoving it into her pocket. "Fine by me, and just so you know, the death of those two probably saved a lot of people from their greed."

She left the shop, a twisted smile playing at the corners of her lips. Orario was bustling, the streets filled with people going about their day. Adventurers haggled with shopkeepers, vendors shouted about their wares, and children ran between the stalls, their laughter bright and carefree.

On the surface, it seemed like any other day—busy, vibrant, alive. But Lili knew better. Beneath all the noise and color, the city was filthy, rotten to its core.

She felt twisted satisfaction as she walked back to her room at a rundown inn on the edge of town. The wooden floors creaked beneath her feet, and the walls were stained with years of neglect. It was a dingy, musty place, the air thick with the scent of mold and old wood, but it was home—at least for now.

She flopped down onto the bed, the thin mattress barely creaking under her small weight. The room was small, barely big enough to turn around in, and the single window was grimy, letting in only a sliver of light. But it was quiet, and for now, that was all she needed.

With a sigh, Liliruca closed her eyes, letting the darkness wash over her like a wave. But the satisfaction she had felt earlier, that twisted curl of pleasure in her chest, still lingered like a dark, poisonous flower. It had been a good day, all things considered. And tomorrow? Well, tomorrow was another chance to... to what?

To do what... and why?

She stilled, the question lingering, painted across the forefront of her mind like an unwanted stain. Hours passed, and sleep refused to come. The silence of the room only amplified her thoughts, swirling around her like a storm she couldn't escape from. Why was she feeling so lost all of a sudden?

"I killed two men," she thought, trying to analyze the situation with a cold, logical view. "Maybe they were scum, and maybe I didn't split their skulls myself, but I was the one who tricked them into going after that Monster... and I did it for gold..."

Her gaze drifted to the pouch by her side, its weight heavy with more money than she had expected to make in a whole month. She stared at it, the soft leather bulging with coins, and a frown creased her brow.

What was the point?

'And I feel no remorse for it, but this money... why did I want it so much? I have weapons, any gear I buy would be stolen...and my grudge against adventurers...it's not so deep as to kill them out of boredom.'

'But even if I decide to never do it again...am I content to merely... spend a month doing nothing whatsoever... only to go back to how things were?'

She wondered, her thoughts churning like a pot boiling over, struggling to find a reason that made sense.

Mere survival had been enough before, when her worst offense was stealing a stuck-up bastard's magic sword. But now?

Now it seemed she needed something more.

She lay on her bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling, trying and failing to understand why she had this burning desire to go back to the dungeon, to lead more of those pieces of shit to their deaths and strip them of their gear.

She didn't even know why she wanted to so badly. And then, the image came to her—that ruthless man whose name she didn't know, standing in front of a horde of goblins and kobolds, a smile on his face, without a single smidgen of fear.

She wanted that, to be like that.

She wanted to stand against all who mocked and bullied her, to break their limbs if they dared raise them against her again.

She wanted the money to buy all the thrice-damned wine that her shitty god made and pour it down the drain as the shitstains watched and bawled their eyes out.

And for that, she needed strength.

What could give a useless, talentless pallum like her strength, if not a god? No matter how wretched and pathetic said god was.

Liliruca Arde grabbed her money pouch, the leather cool and heavy in her hands, and stormed out of her dingy room, the door slamming shut behind her. She was done lying around in the dark, wallowing.

She knew what she needed to do.

And with that, she stepped into the bustling streets of Orario once more.