I’m awoken by breakfast in bed, courtesy of Krissy—the most wonderful person in the world.

  “Good morning to you too, Mistress. Eat first, then give me bedroom eyes.”

  I take it back. Krissy is the worst person in the world.

  Apparently, as the fake “boss”, I needed a title. So last night, they ran through over a dozen options until I finally settled on Mistress. It was the least horrendous option available.

  I’m still not a fan. Krissy sure enjoys it, though.

  Right, Krissy’s the worst. Of course she loves it.

  With a groan, I pull the blankets higher, desperately wishing I could enjoy the warmth and softness of this bed forever.

  I didn’t even know beds could be this comfortable. I’d spent my whole life on mats or sleeping bags. This was something else entirely.

  Big, springy, soft, and so, so warm…

  I groan again, but louder.

  She doesn't acknowledge my whining, though.

  She sets a tray with two plates full of food on the bed and pulls up a small stool for herself. It’s a simple enough breakfast. Eggs, buttery toast, and cheese... but it smells absolutely divine.

  She starts taking elegant little bites from one as I struggle to wake up. When she lets out a pleased hum of appreciation, I finally convince myself the food is a worthy trade for my comfort.

  After a big stretch and an even bigger yawn, I’m up, sitting cross legged and chowing down. I’m starting to realize that Seeker’s Patience reducing my need for sleep and food doesn’t mean that it reduces how much I want them.

  I feel like that's equal parts awesome and bullshit.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” I say after swallowing a mouthful of eggs on toast.

  “Anytime. That’s not the only reason I’m here, though. We should have a conversation about what you want from us,” she says, indicating me and herself.

  I cock my head to the side, confused. “Huh?”

  She gives me a flat look, “You and me, Emilia. We need to have a frank conversation about you and me.”

  “Oh. What’s there to talk about? You’re not after anything permanent or even regular, and neither am I. I may be a bit new to the… activity… but I know how things work around here." I stopped eating to ramble, suddenly worried. "I wouldn’t have agreed in the bath last night if I thought you intended for something more, and I thought—wait, did I misread you? Do you—”

  “No!” she says, holding a hand up to stop me. “No, I’m not, and you didn’t misread the situation. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of it, we’ve had clients get a bit too attached before and it’s always a hassle. Normally I’d have had this talk before committing to anything, but last night was… difficult. And spontaneous.”

  “No worries, then, I think? Though…” I trail off, struggling to push through a wave of shame. “I think we probably shouldn’t, anymore? I mean, I really enjoyed it but… well, I have a history of making something out of nothing...”

  It's a struggle to get it all out, but I manage to avoid the specifics involving Cari and I, so I'll count that as a success.

  Her eyes soften at my confession, and a broad smile splits her face. “That’s perfectly fine. I’ve worked with a couple others who were the same. Quick to attach themselves to someone who treats them right."

  She pauses for a moment, tapping her chin thoughtfully. Then her eyes light up.

  "How about this: if you ever need to relax, let me know, and we can give you massages, baths, or maybe even brush your tail or something. We offer a lot of services, you know.”

  I perk up at that, and she grins at my obvious excitement.

  “Massages? I’ve never had one, but my friend says they’re amazing!”

  “I’ll take that as a yes, then," she chuckles. "Whenever I have some time, we’ll get you set up with a weekly massage. And if you ever want to be pampered in the baths, just ask. I'll let the other girls know not to go too far."

  I groan, “Are they going to tease me as much as you do?”

  She smirks. “No, I don’t think so. Nyria seems quite fond of you, though. Consider yourself warned—she’s quite the minx when she wants to be.”

  “Wait, Nyria? Really?”

  She didn't seem all that devious...

  Krissy just waves me off and pulls a small pouch from between her breasts. Of course, my eyes are drawn to it like moths to a lantern, and she gives me the most impish grin I’d ever seen.

  She did that on purpose!

  “You’re the worst,” I mutter.

  “Oh, come now, Mistress. This is for you! It’s your first stipend,” she says and jingles the bag of coins.

  I give her a sidelong glare as I take the small pouch and look inside. The moment I see its contents, my hands freeze.

  Twelve gold. She just gave me twelve gods-damned gold.

  “Is this a joke?” I mumble.

  “Unfortunately, no. This is actually on the low end, thanks to the Ratweavers driving our customers away. I expect it will go back to normal in… oh, a week? Maybe two, at most” she says, tapping her chin.

  I slowly look up at her. “Normal?”

  “Well, before the Update your cut would have been closer to twenty-five gold. I imagine after we finish the renovations, cleanup, and adapting the new theme, we'll be back to our usual income.".

  She says it as if it’s nothing. As if a single gold coin couldn’t have fed me for six months. As if ten wouldn’t equip an entire Delver team.

  “Just how much money do you guys make?!”

  “Hm… anywhere between two and seven hundred gold per month? It varies based on the season, really,” she says.

  My arms fall limply into my lap, the little pouch clinking enticingly as I stare into nothing.

  “Mistress?”

  What could I even do with that much gold? Buy a house? No, that’d buy several houses.

  “Emilia? Are you okay?"

  What could I even do with twelve gold? Buy gear? Arcanite? Several years worth of food?

  “Emilia!” Krissy shouts, her face barely a breath from my own as she shakes me out of my stupor.

  “Huh? What? Oh, Krissy, go-good morning!” I stammer, nearly saying ‘gold’ instead.

  Gods, I think my brain just broke.

  She just rolls her eyes at me and lets out a dramatically disappointed sigh.

  “Come on, you. You mentioned yesterday that you had errands to run, and I’ve got to get our carpenter out here to change the sign before the morning is gone,” she says, quickly ushering me out of bed.

  She ignores my embarrassment when she re-wraps my chest, then quickly helps me get dressed before all but pushing me towards the lobby area.

  She leads the way with a soft smile, and when we finally reach the balcony, I peer over it to see an impressive sight.

  The space is spotless.

  Each speck of dried blood gone and replaced by pristine stone and clean fabrics. Last night I’d gone down to store the bodies in my bangle, but I didn't do a whole lot of cleaning.

  I'd definitely filled my storage up, though. With it being limited by weight, I'm honestly surprised I managed to get them all in there.

  But I’d done it. I need to find somewhere to dispose of them, but that's a future Emilia problem.

  The only sign that there was ever a fight to begin with is the me-sized hole in the wall maybe fifteen paces from the front doors.

  The entire area is filled with easily fifty or sixty people, most of which seem to be working girls. The moment they see me and Krissy approaching the balcony, a screaming cheer echoes through the halls, nearly deafening me despite my ears folding down on instinct.

  They shout thanks and praises galore, a few even throwing in rather blatant offers to "reward" me privately. I ignore those as best I can and follow Krissy’s lead.

  It only takes me ten minutes to decide to flee, and I sprint for the door like a cornered animal.

  Krissy decided to talk about the upcoming theme changes in explicit detail, and it quickly got out of hand. The moment several girls asked to touch my tail and ears for ‘reference’, I fled from the giggling soon-to-be vixens.

  As I move through the streets, I keep an eye out for trouble as I make my way to the orphanage. I still need to check if any of my things are left, unlikely as that may be.

  Honestly, I just wanted to put the place behind me once and for all.

  But first, I decide to do something about the Update. After what I saw happening with the Ratweavers, I can’t stand the thought of more people being rewarded for cruelty.

  System Change Proposal

  The System will weaken or remove Crime-based Classes that incentivize cruelty or exploitation.

  Classes directly associated with acts such as murder, slavery, or sexual violence will no longer provide stat bonuses, skills, or level progression tied to those actions.

  Would you like to submit this proposal?

  Yes / No

  I select ‘Yes’ without hesitation.

  Notice

  Proposal denied.

  I jolt to a stop in the middle of the street, staring at the notice.

  Every time I read it, to try to wrap my head around it, it doesn’t make sense.

  Why would the System deny my proposal?

  When the System Update happened, these Classes were introduced, causing Gods only know how much mayhem across the world. I figured that would be enough reason to undo the change, but apparently not.

  But why…? System, can you explain to me why a vote like this would fail?

  Notice

  Though crime-based Classes were introduced with the System Update, it is not altering what those who commit crimes would do even without such a Class.

  Their Classes are simply altered to reflect their already chosen Path.

  I shake my head at that, equal parts mollified and upset.

  It makes sense that people who do evil don’t need a Class to… well, to do evil. The guy with the Warrior Class who murders a person is no more good than if that same person had the Murderer Class and committed the same act.

  If the Murderer Class is even a thing.

  Still, I can’t help but feel like such Classes even possibly existing would act as an incentive to go out and obtain them. Crime is easy, after all, which means it’d be easy levels when compared to something more dangerous like Delving, or something slower like a Profession.

  Though, if I look at it that way, I guess it’s fair to say that it’s just as dangerous, just in a different way. They risk getting arrested or even executed outright, depending on the crimes they commit for the sake of faster levels.

  I just hate it. But with the System itself against me in this, there’s not much I can do except catch or kill the fuckers when I come across them.

  I let out a disappointed sigh and start walking again. The System’s words echo in the back of my mind, cold and unsettlingly pragmatic. By the time the orphanage comes into view, a headache’s settled deep behind my eyes.

  I force myself to move on. Thinking back to what I plan to do with my visit to the orphanage, I give myself a new goal.

  I’d grown, and there is no need for me to linger where I’m not wanted.

  But that doesn’t mean I'm not going to have at least a little fun. They deserved to panic a bit after how they treated me.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  With that thought in mind, I switch my tag to show something that I’m sure the Matron will not like.

  Foxkin Healer

  Level ??

  She’d always been the type to jump to conclusions. A nudge towards one that’s more fun will do wonders for clearing my head.

  Suddenly, a wave of power blooms in my chest as Fae Ferocity activates once more.

  For a moment I’m worried that my plans were about to be crashed by yet another crisis, but I quickly dismiss it.

  All I feel is excitement as I approach the all too familiar building.

  Play.

  It looks the same as when I’d left. Even the scraggly bushes in the front yard seem to have been frozen in time. It’s a decently large building with just two stories, covered in stained windows and cracking paint.

  There is something to be said about our nation's governance. In some ways, it's wonderful.

  For instance, children without homes are placed in the national orphanage system and taken care of until they come of age. They were then expected to work in that same system, caring for children like themselves for another two years before being set loose upon the world.

  In others, it's terrible. The funding for the system is never enough to fill the bellies of every orphan in the nation. Nor is it enough to ensure the Matrons and Patrons are properly qualified to handle child rearing and care-taking.

  It often has a clear result: hungry and abused children, roaming the streets to scrounge up whatever they can.

  This orphanage is no exception, though the Matron at least does a well enough job of keeping everyone fed. The blessing of a small city's population. There just aren't that many orphans.

  I shake off the morose thoughts and open the front door and a little bell jingles just overhead. Its hinges squeak in protest as I open it wide enough to step in.

  The noisy entrance has always served dual purposes—alert the Matron and kids of someone entering, and of kids leaving when they shouldn’t be.

  I almost smirk at the memory of the Matron’s irate face every time I returned late from a delve. I manage to push the thought away, leaning on my Charisma again to put up a mask of interested curiosity.

  Just in time, too.

  One of the oldest boys comes through the door leading to the main living space.

  Human Ward

  Level 9

  The moment he sees me, he flushes a bright red. I remember him, of course, though it seems like he doesn’t recognize me anymore.

  He was one of the boys who often teased me for my scars. I don't hold it against him though.

  That line of teasing is the least of the insults I’d gotten from my orphan brothers and sisters. Besides, at sixteen years old, he's at the height of human puberty and prone to acting stupid.

  Like he is now.

  He all but literally salivates as he openly gapes at me. I let out a gentle cough to snap him out of it, and it works like a charm.

  “O-oh! Hello, Miss! How can I help?” he says, stumbling over his words.

  “I’d like to speak with the Matron or Patron. Would you be a dear and fetch them for me?” I ask, a tone of self-importance laced into my voice.

  I don't push it quite as far as I tried to last night, but it's still more than enough to get the job done.

  “Y-yes, of course!” he says before scampering back through the door.

  A few minutes later, a harried woman steps through the door, quickly closing it behind her.

  Human Attendant

  Level 21

  The moment her eyes find me, I watch as they flick above my head to where my tag would be, and she visibly pales.

  Instead of grinning like a madwoman as I want to, I put on a demure smile.

  “You must be the Matron,” I say, my voice calm.

  “Yes, I am the Matron here. Apologies for the wait. You’re here about a child?” she says, her gaze brightening somewhat when she thinks I may be here to adopt.

  “Mm, just so,” I say, and she beams at me.

  Internally, I’m cackling. She’s already jumped to several conclusions on her own, from what I can tell.

  She at the very least thinks I’m an evolved classer, and now she thinks I’m also here to adopt.

  I maintain a mask of polite interest and let her run headlong into as many misunderstandings as she can manage.

  “Please, follow me,” she says before opening the door and stepping through. “The children have already gathered for you, thanks to Stephen. Is there any specific age range, or…?”

  I mentally cheer while following closely behind through the short hallway. This is the perfect chance to end things while still having a little fun.

  “Yes, actually. I’m looking for a girl, hopefully one in her late teens, or just about to age out of the orphanage,” I say, tapping my chin with a claw.

  Her gait becomes faltering, and I can see an actual bead of sweat form on her brow before she laughs genially.

  “Yes, of course! There—” she starts, but I interrupt her immediately.

  “Oh, look at them! Lined up so nicely for me, how sweet,” I say with false cheer.

  In front of me, nearly two dozen kids are lined up against the back wall in clear view. I recognize most of them, though. The faces of my tormentors, once cruel and ugly with misguided anger and hatred, are now watching me with hope filled eyes.

  The sight reminds me of all the times I’d watched them gather like this when I was younger and more hopeful. When I was finally healed enough to stand on my own two feet and join the line, I had worn the brightest smile I could remember having.

  It's hard, but I can walk now. Even if it hurts.

  But most importantly, I can stand.

  Someone's here, looking to adopt a child.

  I'd heard that if you get adopted, you'll be taken somewhere nice.

  Somewhere with lots of food, and you'll be loved again.

  So I ignore the pain as I step into the line of kids just like me.

  I'm in the corner of the room, the only spot with room for me left.

  It'll be enough. They just have to see me, and that would be that.

  For the first time in over a year, I smile.

  As big as I can make it, and as bright as I can manage.

  It's so exciting, getting the chance to have a family again.

  I’d give anything to have a family again.

  My smile cracks at the thought, but I push it away and repair the damage.

  I straighten up more, making sure I’m as tall and visible as possible from my little corner.

  The adults approach my side of the room, but they freeze in place when they look towards the side me and a few other kids stand.

  “Ah, no, I think we’ll search elsewhere,” I hear one of the adults say.

  They were... leaving? Already?

  When they're gone, the Matron screams.

  “You stupid child! You ruined everything!”

  She drags me to the back.

  It hurts to move so fast, but I try to keep up anyways.

  “You are forbidden from joining the kids in the line. I refuse to let you scare off every potential parent that comes by!”

  That's when I feel the sting of a switch for the first time.

  I don't give up, though.

  The next time I line up, it happens again.

  And again.

  Then the other kids start shouting at me, too.

  Some of them even cry, saying it’s all my fault.

  After that, I stop joining the line.

  The others don’t. They aren’t like me.

  They don’t stop shouting, either.

  The memory brings with it a certain degree of clarity, leaving me questioning everything.

  What am I even doing here? Some kind of twisted revenge?

  No... I'm toying with them for no good reason other than wanting them to feel how I have all these years.

  But it wouldn’t work. They wouldn’t learn anything from this.

  My eyes catch on the corner I used to try to stand in, and in the gloom I can make out two small forms. They’re young, probably not even ten years old, and entirely new faces to me.

  They watch me with a mix of nervousness and hope, so I give them a quick smile. They both perk up at my acknowledgment, turning to each other to whisper furiously.

  Then a new idea comes to me. One that I hadn’t considered, but I was certain was the right thing to do.

  “These two are our eldest girls,” the Matron says, pointing to two more faces I recognize.

  I ignore them, because they aren’t important to me. Not anymore. I was going to slowly trickle in what I was looking for until it became clear I was looking for the old ‘me’. Now, though, none of that matters.

  Instead, I walk to the corner where the two little girls are huddled close together, looking more and more excited. They look like twins, each the spitting image of the other.

  Human Ward

  Level 0

  Human Ward

  Level 0

  I can’t adopt them, but I can do something.

  Kneeling in front of them, I smile at their wide-eyed faces and hold a hand out, palm up. When they both look, I use my bangle and have two silver coins appear in my palm, seemingly from nowhere. They both gasp at the same time.

  Cute.

  “Here, these are for you,” I say, my voice low.

  Their eyes brighten and they each reach out to grab a coin. I close my hand, preventing them from reaching it, and the heartbroken looks on their faces nearly cracks my heart.

  “But in exchange, I get to ask you two questions. Does that sound fair?” I ask.

  Their eyes light up with renewed hope and they nod in sync.

  “What are your names?” I ask.

  “Nyra!”

  “Lyra!”

  They talk at the same time, and I chuckle at their antics. If Cari were here, she’d be all over these adorable little twerps.

  “Well Nyra, Lyra, one more question left,” I say with a teasing smile. They match my excited tone with more nods.

  “Is anyone bullying you?” I ask.

  The matron remained silent, watching on with a mix of hope and confusion, but when I asked this she seems to snap out of it.

  When she opens her mouth to speak, I use Hemokinesis to swat her words out of the air without a backwards glance.

  I’ll have to thank the Guild Master for showing me this little trick.

  The girls look at each other, their eyes telling me more than enough, but I want to hear from them directly. So I speak up before they can get any ideas.

  “You have to be honest with me, or I can’t give you these shiny coins. We made a deal, and it’s very rude to break deals,” I say, trying to seem sagely.

  After another glance at each other, Nyra speaks up, “A little. The boys keep teasing us.”

  Then Lyra chimes in, “And Jason threw worms at me!”

  She sounds genuinely upset about it, but I’m happy with how benign it all is. It’s nothing like how I was treated, and if anything they seem somewhat content. At least, as content as an orphaned child can be.

  I nod at them seriously before opening my hand once more. “Well then, a deal’s a deal. You two better not waste this on treats, now, you hear?”

  They both nod emphatically and say “Yes, Miss Fox!” before crashing into me with tiny hugs. I return the gesture gently, and when they step back, I stand and ruffle their hair before turning back to the matron.

  “She smells like candy!” Lyra hisses excitedly to her sister, clearly thinking she's quiet enough for me to not hear.

  I feel a twinge in my heart at that. These two are too adorable.

  The matron, for her part, is pale as a ghost and looks at me with terror filled eyes. I release my control over the air, then speak.

  “Ah, right. I forgot to introduce myself,” I say, my voice filled with sarcastic politeness. “My name is Emilia. It’s nice to see you again, Matron.”

  I all but spit her title out, and realization finally dawns on her face. Many of the older kids jerk with surprise, but none are daring enough to speak up.

  “No, it can’t be…” she says.

  I didn’t think she could turn even paler, but she does. I’m already done here though. All that was left was to make my message clear, and I could finally leave my past where it belonged: in the past.

  “See to it they’re treated better than I was,” I say, glaring at her. “And if their coins mysteriously vanish, I’ll know who to blame. I’ll be back to check in on them from time to time.”

  She seems to regain some color then, but to an ugly shade of red as she holds her temper back. I ignore her and walk out the way we came with a half-hearted wave over my shoulder to Nyra and Lyra. They wave back excitedly, with big, bright smiles.

  Smiles that put to shame the crooked one I remember wearing all those years ago.

  When I’m outside, I take a deep breath. The air is cool, filled with the scent of dirt and smoke. It’s just as I remember, yet... different. Clearer, somehow.

  I used to walk out of there feeling like I left pieces of myself behind... but now? Now I just feel like nothing they took from me in the past matters anymore.

  Feeling lighter than ever before, I make my way back to the Delvers guild and let my thoughts wander.

  Maybe I can convince Cari to adopt a few cute kids?