I drifted down the street in the Gilded Boar's direction, taking purposeless steps, killing time until the registrar rubber-stamped Anomaly as an official adventurer's group and my new quest module doled out the rewards.

  At least that was the excuse I was going with. Not because my loner nature conflicted with foreign feelings of comradery and respect. Or how my lacking leadership experience compounded with my long-running ignorance of Gadika at large.

  I wasn't fit to lead.

  Seeing Viessa's detailed breakdown only solidified that realization. They needed the real David Cyprus, the war hero and real leader, not Derrick Hauser, bloodthirsty psychopath.

  It's not like I was some genius puppet master back on Earth. I barely grasped how my own country's government ran on Earth. For fuck's sake, I got a C- in civics back in high school. In another year I would've been living at Club Fed full time, if not for Chaos.

  When had those three become more than disposable? Of course, Viessa had long since crossed that barrier. She saved my life—a key mistake in hindsight. At the very least, I owed it to her to do better than act like a homicidal maniac drunk on carnage.

  Now I was responsible for the Cabal, its members, and Anomaly.

  I turned down a familiar street and strolled through the bustling crowd toward Krook Nook's Books. The scent of old parchment washed over me as I entered the store. Shelves leaned into each other, their crooked frames stuffed beyond capacity.

  I delved into the twisting labyrinth, passing underneath lanterns glowing with amber lights that hung from iron hooks. After hitting a few dead ends oriented toward cooking, blacksmithing, and other skills, I found a section labeled "Personal Betterment."

  Among the mountain of self-help books, I found an entire shelf dedicated to leadership, adventuring, and running a successful guild. I shook my head, overwhelmed by the sheer selection and average size of the tomes.

  "May I be of assistance?" an elderly clerk swooped in like a seasoned salesman sensing the gold in my pockets.

  "I'm looking for a book to improve my effectiveness as a leader."

  "You're an adventurer?"

  "Yes."

  "Then, I recommend ‘Flawless Leadership: An Ironclad Guide for Imbeciles.’" Like a pro, he produced the most expensive tome from the shelf.

  "For a mere 10 gold, you can be the proud owner of this fabulous tome." The old man grinned, revealing a perfect set of pearly whites. "The price reflects the value within. It's an expansive volume, written by Jaxen Crowe, former captain of the legendary Crownless Raiders."

  He recognized that name meant nothing to me. "You must not be from Aclana. They are one of the few raid teams to have slain a dragon."

  "A dragon?" I scowled, disgusted by the prospect of such an awful creature really existing.

  "The biggest on record." The shopkeeper stretched his arms out. "Ask anyone as wrinkled as me, the Crownless went on a triumphant reign until tragedy struck."

  "What happened?"

  "They retired and went their separate ways, never speaking again. Mr. Crowe still lives in the area." The old man sniffled with watery eyes. "To see a hero you've worshiped for years reduced to a heartless drunk... It's one of the worst pains one can experience."

  I snatched the book from the old man's grubby hands. "All the people I've disemboweled might disagree with you there."

  The old man gulped. "Can I assist you any further?"

  "I'm also interested in Aclana's politics."

  ***

  I left the bookstore 11 gold lighter with the mammoth length Flawless Leadership, and a political book titled “A Call to Action” by J. Sawara, an apparent bestseller written by the incoming king's uncle.

  When will I have time to read these?

  Anxiety fueled my steps toward the Gilded Boar. I needed to check in with Kora that nothing had gone wrong with Anomaly's registration. I should've had the additional mastery point by now, hoping the new quest module would offer some guidance.

  If a new quest didn't appear, I needed to make the best use of my time before nightfall. I could hear Daven blubbering something about smuggling routes in the wind's whispers. On the other tether, Daven's mansion was mostly silent. Voices dipped in and out, sometimes warbled, other times crystal clear, like it depended on my moment to moment concentration. I would've almost preferred if I could only hear these happenings when Void Seer was actively engaged.

  The random voices were making me feel more unhinged than usual. After I planned questioning Kora about Anomaly's hold-up, I was stuck between training my agility or dedicating the day to study. I didn’t know how close I was to 10 agility, but I knew that reaching it would unlock the next proficiency rank.

  Taking my stamina stat to 10 had unlocked Stamina Battery which turned out to be a massive boon, and I figured the agility stat bonus could be even more beneficial.

  As I turned onto the Gilded Boar's street, bright white text popped across my vision.

  Quest Complete An Apocalypse Before Paperwork

  +250 XP

  +1 Mastery Point

  I stopped in the middle of the street letting people and horses brush by, as I fished out my pocket glass and accessed my status. Taking Justice's advice, I spent the point on Karma's Gaze.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  +Karma's Gaze Mastery 4/5

  Active Bonus: Ledger of Fate unlocked.

  The fuck does that mean?

  As though Galdir twisted my prayer into a cursed monkey paw’s blessing, Xodoven appeared at the top of the steps outside the guild hall and waved at me.

  Target: Xodoven

  Level: 11

  Karma: +1805

  Additional Data: N/A

  I noticed the text "karma" was extra shiny, and as I focused in on it, a long list of subtext unraveled.

  +5 Karma - Rescued Ceehah's cat from a tree.

  +10 Karma - Pushed Joru out of harm’s way.

  +25 Karma - Eliminated a goblin camp within 1000 feet of a school.

  +120 Karma - Killed O'Raylia, that piece of shit.

  +25 Karma - Purchased lunch for Orphalia Row's orphans.

  -5 Karma - Knocked out Jakarvus at Ten's Bottles after a beer was tossed in his face.

  The list went on and on, from most recent changes all the way through the time he lost 10 karma from sucker punching a child who pushed him in school. My brain processed the data faster than I could read, clearly a side-effect of the new feature.

  By the time Xodoven jogged down the steps and rushed out into the street, I had beamed through his entire karmic history. The ledger may have lacked some meaningful detail, but it revealed enough to give me a clear idea of who someone was beneath the surface. All which came at a cost. The instant digestion of so much information sapped a decent chunk of stamina, along with taking a separate mental toll.

  I still thought Xodoven was an asshole. He was just an asshole who frequently volunteered at Oarwin's homeless refuge, and three separate orphanages. He had lost plenty of karma for stupid reasons, but nothing outright malicious. Mostly bar fights, and insults. The other half of his positive karma came from slaying monsters.

  He would've had 1,000s more if he wasn't such a dick. Although his mean streak only became a trend in the last 100 entries, none of the data was dated or detailed beyond a single sentence.

  Did I just waste a mastery point?

  Unless Karma's Gaze's fifth and final mastery level lifted my Shadow Weaver damage restrictions against positive karma targets, I wasn't sure how useful this would be.

  Xodoven met me in the middle of the street, and shoved his palms into my chest, expecting me to budge. When I didn't move an inch, he sounded off. "The old man says you quit and formed your own raid team. He doesn't let the guild's wards quit. Hollow Demon's disciple or not."

  I turned around and walked away, crushed under the realization Xodoven was a decent human. My mounting justification for his future murder crumbled.

  What an awful feature.

  Did I really want to know the percentage of people I killed who had negative karma because they didn't pick up their dog's poo?

  "Hey, I'm talking to you!" he shouted.

  I slipped out of his reach, forcing him into a sprint to keep up.

  How bad do you want to talk?

  Two and a half miles later, after taking a big lead, I found the answer. He slowed down, breathing hard as I jogged into a cul de sac shaped plaza populated with cafes, restaurants, and food stalls on wheels.

  I walked up to the hostess standing at the threshold of a roped-off outdoor cafe that occupied its own corner of the plaza.

  "Can you seat me for a quick bite? I'm in a hurry."

  "Right this way, sir," she said, finding me a table.

  I ordered a meat fry-up, whatever that was, along with Sentinel's flagship Ginger Fizz beverage, strictly for research purposes. My drink arrived as Xodoven caught up.

  The infamous Grimspark clenched his fists, drawing eyes as he stepped over the cafe's finely woven rope, heading straight for my table with a thirst for violence lurking in his eyes.

  The fermented peachy ginger flavor washed across my palette. It was no wonder Sentinel became the powerhouse organization it was–the drink was delicious. Xodoven towered over my table while I enjoyed a second sip.

  "You son of a bitch."

  "Sit down and ease your tone or I'll take my meal to-go."

  He sat across from me, still catching his breath as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  "Did you really kill Barret? What about those Soul Viper bastards? That was a potent paralytic. It had me down for an entire day, and I'm to believe you escaped that same night?"

  "What you believe isn't my problem."

  Xodoven cracked his knuckles and whipped his wavy blonde hair out of his face. "I can make you talk."

  "With this large of an audience? Someone innocent could get hurt." I shrugged. "Instead, why don't we trade answers, one for one?"

  He scanned the bustling area, then scoffed. "I agree to those terms."

  I sipped down Sentinel's incredible soda until I was sucking on the ice, making a sharp slurping noise as Xodoven began.

  "Did you actually kill Barret?"

  "Yes."

  "How—"

  "It's my turn." I spat an ice cube back into the glass. "Where does Jaxen Crowe live?"

  The question blindsided Xodoven, discomfort flickered across his face. "Why do you want to know?"

  I retrieved the massive tome from my satchel and slid it across the table. "I'm currently reading this book and would like to ask the author some questions. That counts as your second question by the way."

  "Damn it." He shoved the book away. "Last I heard, he was living somewhere on Caspier Street."

  A hot plate of meat covered in peppers and red flakes arrived. I inhaled a whiff and my eyes watered—not a good sign. Xodoven tapped his feet eagerly.

  "Do you think Eamon will really let me walk away?" I asked.

  "That old man holds onto a grudge long past the point his hands would bleed."

  Wonderful.

  I burned my tongue on the first two bites of my meat fry-up. One more bite, and I regretted all three, coughing hard as my throat clenched up from the dish's brutal spice.

  "Why can't I sense any trace of your mana signature?"

  "It's suppressed by a curse," I rasped, eyes watering as I teetered on the edge of death, which I think helped sell the lie.

  Xodoven rubbed his chin for a long moment, until he accepted it with a simple nod.

  "Are these really the questions you ran after me to ask?"

  "I was trying to warn you."

  Wait... Am I the asshole for making him run a marathon?

  "About?"

  "You owe me another answer first." He grinned, as a breeze swept his wavy hair back and the parting clouds spilled sunlight over him. "How tall is the Hollow Demon?"

  "Larger than life..."

  "As I suspected." Xodoven leaned in across the table. "I'm friends with a courier who works for Pearl Banner. He's a man with prying eyes. The same day Captain Eric issued the order to hand Westcott over to Black Diamond, he had the courier deliver a letter to Eamon demanding a meeting with you."

  "Jing said I was on good terms with Pearl Banner."

  "Because Eamon shut them down. I don't think you realize the consequences of your actions. Once Captain Eric returns from his raid in the Silverlight Plains and hears you're no longer under the Gilded Boar's protection..."

  The clouds returned blotting out the sun and dropped our tiny section of the cafe into an overcast shadow. I set down my fork, picked up a napkin, and nonchalantly blew my nose.

  "I'll take the rest to go," I said, flagging down the waitress.

  "Did you hear what I said?" Xodoven squinted, raising an eyebrow.

  "You're saying I should kill Pearl Banner before they ask me to attend a boring ass meeting."

  "This isn't in jest! That meeting will be you on your knees, in a barn, with the Devastator hammering you with his iron cudgel until you forfeit your chaos shard."

  "Your sudden worry of my well being is off-putting."

  Thankfully, the waitress was quick with the doggy bag. I stood up, unable to cope with the realization Xodoven was looking out for me. I handed her a gold coin and walked away from the table.

  "If you die before the king's inauguration tournament, I'll be forced to face Burtrip or whatever monster he hires to kill you," Xodoven called after me.

  There it is.