On the twentieth deck, at Knuckle Street.

777 just reached there but got stopped by the guards. Only after paying five copper, he was allowed to enter the street, which was quite livelier than the last time he came here, and though everyone wore clothing from different places of the world, they all had one thing in common about them—the copper-coated knuckle dusters.

777 stopped by the reception desk, which was on the side of the road. “What’s on your knuckles, mister?” the petite receptionist, who was the only one of the two women of the guild, asked him politely. Another guard was standing only a few feet beside the desk. Only the receptionist and the guards were wearing guild uniforms—long blue suits with green borders, and a roaring white hound symbol on their backs with bloody knuckle dusters covering its paws.

“Curing someone who’s got caught in fire—and a fight,” 777 said, making sure to keep his voice soft and polite.

The receptionist flicked her long, light brown hair as she asked, “What’s the condition of that knuckle?”

“Critical.”

“Our guild isn’t yet known for curing damaged knuckles, but if you still wish to put trust in us, then it will cost one gold if the patient’s on this deck, and two gold if they are on another deck.”

“I want Ms. Blood.”

The receptionist was a little surprised. “Then it’ll cost double, and with the member you’re requesting, the money won’t be returned no matter what happens. Do you still wish to proceed with the request?”

777 calmly put a sack of coins on the desk.

After counting the money, she nodded. “Four hundred silver.”

777 nodded.

“What’s your name, knuckle?”

“777.”

“And the name of the damaged knuckle?”

“Lirzod.”

“The deck number?”

“Twelve.”

After writing down the details of the mission, she glanced toward the guild. “Show him to Blood’s room.”

Meanwhile, inside Blood’s room.

It was dimly lit, and a woman was seated in a rocking chair and kept moving the chair back and forth as she finger-knit a baby doll, while heeding to the voice coming from a floating newspaper in the air beside her. The newspaper was titled ‘Daily Dose,’ with the tagline, ‘A lot emerges in the world in one day.’ From that newspaper, a deep masculine voice read the news out loud as the colorful images on it kept changing.

“Dose 26: The World Trade Bund has set up two new bases in the East, and consequently, the flow of food to rural areas will increase, and the prices of some gourmet foods are going to go down in many places soon.

“Dose 27: Emperor Kritt was asked by a little kid about Paupers Sect again during a public party in the Nasira Kingdom, but as usual, he just smiled for an answer, while many at the party kept shouting an all familiar expression among the worldly masses, ‘In the East, Kritt Honglo Morzz. In the West, Yong Moi Li.’ What can he say when asked about a sect that doesn’t exist? Had the Metal Minds done their job in letting the right people ask questions, he wouldn’t have had to answer such senseless subjects. Poor Kritt.

“Dose 28: Lezi Ahsab the White Vizard, after the news of her getting involved with the Million Maroon Massacre, has disappeared without a trace. Her guild has not released any official statement, but our sources say that she’s still somewhere in the land of the living. Nevertheless, if she keeps sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong, she’ll probably be pushing up the daisies before long.

“Dose 29: It hasn’t been long since a silver mine has been discovered in the Wresledal Kingdom, and a civil war has sprung to life. It seems like another king is going to meet his ancestors. At this point, these wars have become a trend in Westendom. Are the Watchers sleeping? Maybe they don’t quite care as long as it’s a silver mine and not a silver-ice mine? Only God knows.

”Dose 30: A group of fifty popular breathers of forty halls challenged Papa Poison but ended up meeting their maker together. Those young fellows sure were in haste.

“Dose 31: Things again seem to be heating up at Silver Curtain after one of the local kingdoms, Cerchio, mysteriously disappeared, not leaving any traces of life whatsoever. Some are doubting that Dots are the reason, but most locals are wondering that either Derxes or Nikiri must have had something to do with it. But what can they do against two specialists of a high order even among martialites? Maybe something against them will be brought up in the next Grand Parley.”

“Dose 32: The news has been rampantly floating around in Silver Curtain that famine is on its way to the Ravaria Kingdom. Considering that this isn’t fresh news and that many had been saying the same thing for well over a decade, it’s hard to believe in rumors anymore. Still, one can’t grow that many crops on sloping lands, and given that the Ravarian citizens are predominantly hunters, they probably don’t know how to properly farm even on flatlands. So, it’s more like a race against the clock. The disaster in the form of famine is going to strike them sooner or later.”

“Dose 33: The Mikkis Kingdom has strengthened its capital’s walls again, surprising its citizens and even many folks in the world because rumor has it that they were drowning in debts, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Just where’s their king getting the money from? Maybe it’s from the Order of Creeps? Pun intended.

“Dose 34: Vrusylvon Ventures has surprisingly suffered losses in the recent investments for areal shoes. The fault was neither in the functionality nor their marketing but the design of the shoes themselves, it seems. It’s rare to see Mr. Bibin failing to not think of such a simple thing as the attractiveness of the product. Some say that he still can’t get over his wife’s death, but we doubt that’s really the case.

“Dose 35: The Huixian Kingdom has—”

“Stop,” soon as the woman spoke, the voice from the newspaper stopped, and then it folded itself and fell on the stool below. “Up the glow.” The lighting inside the room brightened, exposing the soft red glow on her pale skin. She looked at the doll and was satisfied with the way she knit even in darkness. She put the doll on the nearby table, with dolls laid out on top, which together told the story of a little girl.

A moment later, someone knocked on the door. “Come in.”

The door opened, and both 777 and the guard stepped in. After the guard handed a slip that had the mission details, she glanced at 777. “Have we met before?”

He paused a moment before shaking his head.

“Then why are you staring at me like you know me?” Her words made him lower his eyes a little.

She stood and stared down at him, for she was six feet and one inch tall. Her short, spiky red hair was darker than a rose, and her tight, leather jacket brought more beauty to her shredded body by showing all of her soft muscles and smooth curves. “Lead the way,” she put on two silver knuckles and walked outside.

As they were coming out of that street, the receptionist called out for them. She came running to Blood and brought seven men with her. “Sister Blood… can you please help us with another mission? These fools have failed a simple mission of fetching a girl from the twelfth deck. They are giving excuses that she might have been a martialing. If it wasn’t an important client, I wouldn’t have come to you.”

Blood coldly looked at the seven men. “Decide which one of you will be coming along.”

The seven sheepishly looked at each other’s faces.

“You birdbrains! What are you hesitating for!” the receptionist smacked on the back of their heads and pushed one of them forward.

Meanwhile, on the twelfth deck.

People were out on many streets and were doing their best to catch cats, and it weirded out the newcomers.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Limon, the Lemon Licker, who had just entered the deck, queried a busy man who was in the middle of cornering a cat, but thanks to Limon’s interference, the cat escaped.

“You!” fury foamed at the man’s mouth. “Who the heck are you? You just cost me ten copper!”

“T-Ten copper!” he removed his lemon-looking cap, “What in lemons do you mean?”

“Not lemons, but cats is what I meant,” the man frustratingly foamed. “The commander has put a price on them. Ten copper reward for the first hundred black or white cats brought back to the test hall. Five copper for any cat from there onward.” He giggled. “Thanks to people like Jacob, he’s probably forced to act this way so he can take our help and secure the cat’s lives. In any case, this is a great opportunity to earn easy money. Well, not exactly easy, but not exactly hard, either. Still, I lost ten copper because of you.” He glanced at Limon with irritation and also expectation.

Limon scratched on a band-aid fixed at his chin, “Oh, that’s why everyone’s fighting among themselves for cats. Ten copper isn’t much for a cat when on a voyage. I’d rather make a lemon roast out of the cat I caught, but you can surely buy many lemons with that much money.”

“Don’t be foolish,” the man snorted. “Killing cats is forbidden on this deck. If anyone’s found eating cat meat, they’ll be imprisoned for ten days with only cat fur given as food. Voluntarily slaying a cat gets you even more prison time.”

“T-That’s…” Limon’s eyes enlarged. “So cats are more precious than lemons on this deck.”

“Why in the world are you comparing cats with rubbish lemons as if they’re equal?”

“No,” Limon stared right into the man’s eyes with intent, giving him chills. “I’ve never licked cats, but I’m still certain that lemons are better.”

“By lemons, you mean the food item, right? Or are you talking about new species that some lemon manic discovered?”

“Thanks for your banter, but say another word badly about lemons,” Limon threatened with his voice and gaze, “and I will make a new species out of your face.”

The man stepped back and tensely said, raising his hand into the air, “L-Lemons are great.” Chanting the same phrase aloud repeatedly, he hurriedly left, while keeping an eye on the other one.

Limon pressed his lips a bit before putting his cap back on and walking. “I can’t miss up on an opportunity to fill my pockets with copper. Now, unlike my lovely lemons, cats can move. How do you catch these things? I guess I’ll just see one successful capture and start things from there.”

As he roamed, he came across a guy who scared a cat away with shots fired from his crossbow and lured the cat toward a corner before another man came out of nowhere and flung a net over the cat. While the feline struggled, they grabbed it and put it in a sack—one that was typically used for packaging grains—and moved on for another one.

“That was a successful capture,” Limon mused to himself. “So I need a crossbow, a net, and most importantly, some support from another lemon-head.” He paused a moment. “Nah, I don’t want to split the reward. Let’s look at another successful capture.”

After strolling a bit, he entered a different street, and out of nowhere, four people came out of hiding and surrounded him, two from the front and the rest from behind.

“Were you guys following me?” Limon asked, looking a bit surprised. “Since when?”

“Hehe, you were clueless as a chicken suffering from constipation,” one of them snickered. “Give us all the coins, and we’ll be off your case just as fast.”

“Coins? I don’t have coins,” Limon exposed his palms.

“You don’t have money?” one of them barked, “Don’t lie!”

“Why would I lie?” Limon looked a bit bewildered.

“Your backpack looks nice,” one of them licked their lips. “I wonder what’s in there.”

“Uh, nothing.” Some worry crept up on Limon’s face. “I mean, not literally nothing, but nothing that’s of value to you.”

The four men looked at each other and smiled. “Hehe, we don’t like being lied to by others, especially by paunchy chickens like you.” Both the men on Limon’s back attacked him, causing him to turn around and throw punches, but then the tearing sound of the bag reached his ears.

Dozens of fruits fell to the floor and rolled about, cutting all the smiles on the men’s faces.

“W-What are these?” one of them stooped down, picked one up and sniffed it.

“How does it smell?” another one asked in expectation.

“Smells like a fucking lemon!” he tossed it away and stood in anger. “Let’s tear the bag further and see what he’s hiding.”

“Yeah!” all the four of them attacked together.

“My lemons…” Limon, who had frozen from fury all this while, now howled in rage, stopping the four men in their tracks. “You wretches!” he removed the bag and swung it around at them madly.

“Shit! This chicken’s liver is on fire! Abort! Let’s leave!”

The four of them beat a retreat, but Limon shot a lemon and hit a man’s head perfectly, but there wasn’t enough power behind it, so it only left some pain.

Limon roared. “Where are you running off to in such a hurry? Stop, and fight me, you cowards!” Though his words piqued their nerves, they didn’t stop. “Tsk,” he felt disappointed as he looked at his torn bag. He went through a lot of trouble to buy a distinctive bag which could store lemons for longer times than regular bags. “I wonder if it still works the same way if I get it stitched up.” Shaking his head, he picked the lemons off the floor. Just when he was going for the last one, a cat came out of nowhere and snatched it away. “Wait, you!” Before he could even take a couple of steps, the cat made enough distance to make him give up. “That damn thing! I swear if I see it again, I will lick some sense into it!”

In the meantime, elsewhere on the same deck.

Burton was coming out of a hall that had a big title board at the door of its entrance that read ‘Foster Hall.’ He was holding a bag full of fruits. He crunched on an apple and closed his eyes to savor the taste. “A simple bite from an apple never felt so refreshing. Eating only bread for a few days has its benefits after all.”

Many men and even teenagers sitting on either side of the street were all smiles as Burton came out of the hall. They all suddenly ganged up on him, and before he could even do anything, all the food in his hands was gone, including the cover. Even the apple he had taken a bite from was missing. As for the people who had stolen his food, they all ran off in different ways.

Burton’s jaw was slacked open. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. He was savoring the taste of the apple with his eyes closed, and then something happened. By the time he realized what was happening, everything was gone, for they had attacked him as one but fled as dozens. A crushing loss at the hands of thieves of all ages made Burton feel abashed, but then he was more worried about the loss of delicacies he suffered.

“My apple…” Though he knew the food was gone, his mouth was still drooling. Just then he realized that even his copper ring was gone. “Eh? They stole the ring, too? I didn’t even feel it.” He frowned as he rubbed the ring finger at the base where the ring was supposed to be. “The love of money can make a man’s fingers as sticky as a gecko’s feet.” His eyes then turned cold as he made a fist. “Which dog did it?”

Meanwhile, in the Drill Hall.

Most trainees were practicing as usual, even though most of them wished to join the worthwhile hunt of cats. A few, though, were talking about something else.

“Oi, you should go and ask her out before she disappears from this deck,” one man pushed the blonde youth forward. He was the one who got his shin cracked during the exchange of kicks with Sariyu.

“Stop it already! I’m not into her!” the blonde youth said.

“What? You don’t like her? Who are you kidding!”

“No, I do admire her looks,” the blonde youth said in a praising tone. “From the tips of her toes to the ends of her outstretched fingers, she’s downright stunning.” He flustered a bit, “But there’s no place for a partner in my Martial Way.”

“Ah, not again with that load of crap.”

“Just forget about her, alright?” the blonde youth sighed. “We should focus on our practice.”