"You killed him... you animal," shouted the other one, clutching his head. As if he hadn't seen it coming.

  Anyone who tried to kill another person should be prepared to die. It was common sense.

  Treat others as you'd like to be treated. Right?

  Ha, ha, ha. And he smiled.

  "Of course I killed him, you son of a bitch," he took a step forward. The blood splashed. "You guys tried to kill me first. I just returned the favor. Come here! Come here, you son of a bitch!" he lunged forward, brandishing the knife.

  The guy dodged backward, stumbled over his own feet and fell to the ground even though the needle wouldn't have come anywhere near him. Still, he pulled out a sword, apparently from nowhere, just like the other one with his spear.

  "Look, this doesn't have to end..."

  James didn't listen to the son of a bitch. He crouched down, clenching his free hand into a fist long enough to scoop up sand and throw it in the son of a bitch's eyes. Temporary blindness, but it should be enough to finish the job.

  "Ah, bastard!" he spat, rubbing his eyes and swinging the sword blindly. Wild swings. Pathetic swings.

  He lunged for his enemy's neck. He'd already killed one, and it had actually been easy. The only weight he felt was that of the blood on his clothes. This one wouldn't be hard to kill either. He'd already done it once. What was a second or third time?

  He managed to throw him to the ground. The knife flew toward his neck. But the fool elbowed him in the stomach, out of pure luck, and he had to roll away from him, away from his fists and the sword that only cut grass. So it gave him enough time to get back up and clear his eyes enough to squint them open.

  "This isn't over," he said. "But I've had enough for tonight."

  Oh yeah? he thought. Well I haven't had enough yet. And that's what matters, goddammit.

  He shot forward, determined to finish the job, but his knife only cut air. He had disappeared, somehow. He had vanished right before his eyes.

  For a while he stood there, tense, alert, as if he believed the guy had turned invisible to attack him from behind or something like that. A possibility, he supposed. But deep down he knew he had taken off, that he had fled with his tail between his legs, like a fucking coward. And that was that. So now...

  "Shit. Now, how the hell do I get rid of the body?"

  He looked at the corpse, its white eyes, huge and blind, like the moon. He looked at the blood on the grass and staining the earth.

  This scoundrel son of a bitch could cost him his second chance. He couldn't let anyone discover it. Sure, his other two companions were alive, but they had no proof that he had done anything. As long as they didn't have it, everything would be fine. So he had to get rid of the body somehow. Just that. That would be enough.

  Then, he had an idea. It wasn't a great idea. It churned his guts just thinking about it, but it was an idea. The best he had. He knew it would work. And that would have to be enough. He could think about things like morality later. Morality and guilt. Now he had a corpse to erase from the face of the earth.

  He never thought he'd come back here until much, much later. Maybe never in his life. Not even if he spent the rest of it in Ashfall too.

  Descent. That damned dungeon with such an appropriate name. But here he was, right in front of the entrance with a corpse loaded on his shoulders.

  The dungeon had no portal. Therefore, the entrance was the same for everyone. Everyone suffered the same descent. Except that wasn't true. Sure, because he was about to... well, well, the important thing is that, just like in a video game, the dungeons constantly changed. To a certain extent the changes might not be radical, but no dungeon exploration was the same as the previous one. That's why he thought it would be more stable.

  And he threw the body. His thoughts were confirmed. The first enemy that appeared before him was a giant spider.

  James didn't reach for his shield or sword. He just threw the corpse at it.

  It landed about eight meters between them. Dungeon monsters were animals, after all. They wouldn't die if they ran out of food, but they preferred easy prey, obviously. It pounced on the corpse and he took the opportunity to get out of there as fast as he could. He remembered the poor bastard hanging on those chains. He, at least, had been more or less intact. This guy, whose name he didn't even know, wouldn't be so lucky. Only a pile of bones would remain of him, and the truth would be buried in darkness.

  He headed back to the hotel, staggering almost as much as he had when he first came out of the water. He couldn't believe what he had just done. Not cutting that son of a bitch's throat, nor the other thing. But it had been in self-defense. Both one thing and the other. He couldn't risk the testimony, if they even spoke, of those two ruining his life. He couldn't gamble with the corpse. So he had gotten rid of it. And this wasn't a fucking gangster movie, he had no idea how to dissolve it in a bathtub or something like that. He hadn't been very good at chemistry. So, as horrible as it seemed, God knows I can hear the gnawing. That's what there was. He had made the least bad decision possible. Maybe it wasn't great comfort, but it was the truth, invaluable and inescapable. For him, that was enough.

  He stood still at the entrance, raising his head to look at the sign. Dante's Hotel, though he still hadn't seen any Dante around here. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here, said the poem. But James had found hope in this place, and he wasn't going to let anything or anyone take it away from him. He had done right. As hard as it was to remember, he had done right.

  He was able to get to his room without anyone interrupting him or asking questions. He didn't run into anyone on the way. Of course, it was nighttime. And this wasn't exactly an urban city, it was more like a town in the middle of expansive vegetation, like an island on the horizon. There was no nightlife, in other words, to get to the fucking point. Not once.

  James sighed and removed his armor, magically, of course. He didn't know how to put it on, much less take it off. With a thought, it returned to his inventory. But he didn't do the same with the sword; he left it beside the bed, just in case. It never hurt to be cautious. He needed something he could wield immediately and get results, even though this time he hadn't woken up until it was already too late.

  So the problem wasn't his capabilities or defense options, but falling asleep. He'd have to do something about that another day. Right now he couldn't do anything. About that, at least.

  There was one more thing. He checked the locks on the doors and windows two and even three times. He started out determined to feel comfortable, but when he got tired of going around checking the same thing again, he threw in the towel. No, rather, he acknowledged that he'd done all he could. If something happened again, it wouldn't be his fault. He had done everything possible to prevent it.

  He took a long shower, very long and very hot. The water burned his skin, as if he wanted to punish himself. He didn't bother adjusting the temperature, but of course, that was a stupid idea. He would never do something like punish himself for something that wasn't his fault. And anyway, nothing would change. What's done was done. Tomorrow hell would break loose, but they had no proof at all. They would never find that man.

  James slowly closed his eyes. My God, he could almost hear chewing sounds happening, even though he hadn't stayed long enough to actually hear it. Maybe it was even worse that way, because his imagination did the work instead. It was even worse.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  I've done what needed to be done. Let's not talk about it anymore, he thought.

  And he sank into a deep sleep.

  When James woke up, he looked at the clock on the nightstand. 8:30 in the morning. He hadn't slept much, but he was surprised he'd slept at all after all that. Of course, the sun was already up. He was the kind of person who couldn't fall asleep after dawn, no matter how hard he tried and even if he lowered the blinds. Besides, he didn't feel like resting, so he got up right away, preparing for the new day.

  He got up, went downstairs and, as always, Alma was at the reception desk. He hadn't paid too much attention, but maybe she had the morning shifts. He didn't remember seeing her in the afternoon or evening, at least. But he hadn't seen another girl behind the counter either. Well, that wasn't really his business. After the good mornings, the girl got straight to the point.

  "You look terrible."

  "Yeah, I feel like shit," he admitted.

  "And why's that?"

  Should I tell the truth? he wondered. He came to the conclusion: Why not?

  At least he'd have the chance to spread his version of the story before the two surviving sons of bitches did. Probably. And if they'd beaten him to it, which he doubted, well, staying quiet wouldn't help him. Lying would only help them.

  "I was attacked."

  Alma's eyes widened.

  "Wait, what?"

  "Last night. Three people attacked me. They kidnapped me from my room and almost killed me. Goddammit."

  "But you're okay, right?"

  "Yeah. More or less."

  "Who were they?"

  Good question, he thought.

  "I don't know them. Well, I don't know almost anyone. The only thing I know for sure is that these people don't like competition too much."

  "I've noticed that. Please, be very careful."

  "Of course," he replied.

  He would do everything he could and, especially, be very careful at night. He wouldn't let them catch him so vulnerable again. He had done great things, he had earned his survival the hard way, but he also had to admit that it was simply luck that he was alive. If they had been a little less stupid, he'd be sleeping with the fishes now. To begin with, they had attacked him without knowing what kind of abilities he had, not even his class. They didn't know anything about him, only that he was a newbie, another mouth sucking at the teat. That had been the biggest mistake.

  And he had many flaws, but he wouldn't screw up there. He wouldn't make the same stupid mistake. He would research things well and then attack. He couldn't let anyone get in the way of his new beginning.

  "I know it's the least of it," Alma began, "but they lost the fight, three against one. You must be amazing."

  "I'm good at making decisions on the fly. Improvising more than planning. It's one of the few things I'm good at."

  Alma laughed.

  "Come on, don't say that."

  "Well, there's a reason this place became my last chance, after all."

  Alma's face darkened for a moment.

  "Was it good, James, coming here? Was it a good decision on the fly?"

  "I'll make sure it is, whatever happens."

  "What do we do now? He killed Richard and saw our faces."

  "We have to get rid of him, of course."

  "You're just... you're an idiot. We'd be the first suspects now."

  "What can we do if not? Sit idly by while he tries to turn us in?"

  "He can't turn us in. Nobody knows anything happened last night. There's no evidence because he hid the body somehow."

  "Sooner or later it'll come to light."

  "It's possible. It's possible, but maybe not. Bodies get lost in dungeons all the time and that kid might be a newbie, but he's no idiot, in any case. Before the body is discovered it's just his word against ours. We don't have to act rashly."

  "You make it sound so simple."

  "Nobody said it was simple, but you have to do what's necessary. No more, no less."

  Like everything in life, that was easier said than done.

  He left the hotel, but not to take another Quest. Today, for some reason, he wasn't in the mood. He did go to the tavern, however. He stood at the entrance, looking around, part of him hoping to see the sons of bitches from the other night. Whatever happens will happen.

  He'd recognize them anywhere, after all.

  And that's why he quickly made sure they weren't there. Unfortunately. Nor any of his few acquaintances.

  He sat at the bar anyway.

  Snacks and a Coke. He wasn't going to order any fucking beer. He'd hit rock bottom a few days ago, but he still hadn't fallen that low.

  "You look terrible," said the bartender.

  "Thank you very much." He opened the can, took a sip. "That's what happens when someone tries to kill you."

  "Yeah, well. Occupational hazard, kid."

  "I'm not talking about monsters from some dungeon."

  "Oh."

  He kept sipping.

  Why not spread the news? He might be new, but he had nothing to hide. He was the victim here. He wasn't naive enough to believe people would trust him without question. But precisely because of that he shouldn't hide anything, he had to be the first to tell it. The longer those two took to decide what to tell, the more suspicious they'd seem.

  First one wins, or at least that's what he was thinking. Or hoping.

  The only thing he knew for sure was that he liked being here.

  He didn't want to screw up his second chance. He wasn't going to let some stupid selfish sons of bitches ruin it, as if they could keep this small, when it was the New Industry that all eyes were on. And the only thing preventing people from moving to Ashfall en masse was the...

  Fear of death.

  Yeah. Right.

  A man leaned forward.

  "Who was it?"

  He was the first to not bother hiding his interest, at least. But of course, he's not the only one interested. There were many pairs of eyes suddenly fixed on him. Maybe this was the most interesting thing that had happened all week, and even the most fantastic could become routine with time.

  "I don't know," James admitted. "I only know it was three guys and one of them said he was going to leave the city. So I guess it'll be obvious to whoever... knows them."

  Okay, yes he did have to hide something. A corpse he'd hidden in the best way possible. Now there probably weren't even bones left.

  Why confess to a murder, even one perfectly justified in self-defense? He didn't need more headaches.

  "Left the city, huh?" said another. "And why did they attack you if you just arrived?"

  "Precisely because I just arrived. From what it seems, they don't appreciate competition much. Though competition in this place is always going to grow. I don't know what the hell they're thinking."

  A shadow fell over the bar. Tall, taller than him, even. He wasn't used to seeing people taller, so he was even more surprised when he turned around and saw it was a woman. He'd come here to build a future, to earn it. He wasn't interested in those things. But he had to admit she was quite pretty. Like most men, he suspected, he liked them shorter than him, just as most women barely considered short men human beings. Biology, perhaps. However, she had a certain elegance that drew the eye and eyes...

  He shook his head.

  Am I an idiot? No, I already know I'm an idiot, but today I'm going overboard.

  "Maybe they thought about the only thing that can be done about it." The woman started smoking. "Slow down the expansion."

  He hated smokers almost as much as alcoholics, they had no respect for others' health and comfort, but once again he had to admit that a beautiful woman smoking had... certain aesthetic qualities.

  Fuck, did I get horny from almost dying? Is that it?

  He buried that shit deep.

  "What are you saying, Nadia?"

  "The obvious. There are many businessmen interested in suppressing... any bad news that could affect their profits. But if enough bad things happen, or if something leaks, then they couldn't do anything anymore. And then there'll be many more people who'll think twice before coming here. Selfish and pathetic. Like trying to stop a sea with your hands. But murderers never have good reasons."

  You're looking a murderer in the eyes. What would you think if you knew?

  "I suppose it could be that," said James. "They almost succeeded with me."

  "Very interesting, but how do we know it's true? About the attack," said some Mr. Skeptic, his form but not his voice lost in the crowd.

  "It's true," said Nadia firmly. "They stabbed you, right boy?"

  Boy. Another one who thinks she's much older than me. Ah, fuck her.

  But hey, I guess this baby face works for me. Especially for sympathy.

  He was so offended he almost overlooked how surprising her words were.

  "How do you know?"

  "It's obvious from how you walk and move your shoulder. Once you become an Explorer, once you drink the water, your wounds heal as long as you're out of combat. That is, if they haven't killed you first." She smiled. "I see you must have changed clothes, and the wound must be closed, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt. And not just physically."

  Damn, this woman was smart. Indeed, the next morning he'd checked that the cut was closed.

  He'd fallen asleep without even thinking about the tremendous stab they'd given him.

  But in the end, it hadn't been cause for concern.

  "Are you some kind of detective or something?"

  Another drag.

  "Nah. I'm just not stupid, that's all."

  "I thank you for not being stupid, then, because it seems you've made sure they believe me."

  Nadia nodded.

  "You should go file a report. Before you say the obvious: yes, I already know you don't have much to say. Go anyway."

  "That's what I had planned," he lied.

  Well, was it the next obvious step? Sure. But he had nothing planned. His thing was improvising on the fly, really, rather than planning. He should work on that. He knew from experience that way of living life could be great and spontaneous, take you to the top with a feeling of naturalness as if everything had been predestined, as if every obstacle along the way had been false.

  But with the same naturalness it could drag you to the darkest of pits.

  He knew from experience.

  They bought him another Coke, since he vehemently refused any attempt to get him to drink with them. But after that, and with his belly more full than empty, he left the tavern and went to see where the hell the police station was. At least it was a well-signposted city. And not very big.

  He stated his case at reception.

  They called him to give a statement. He sat in a chair, and then...

  "Ah, I see."

  Sitting on the other side was one of the men from the previous night.