“What do you mean?” I stare slack-jawed at Lucillus.

“The Mine collapsed, and Gaius’s team is stuck in the Dungeon. They are going to die,” Lucillus said darkly.

“What?! Why?! Can’t other adventurers go help?” I look at Lucillus, bewildered.

“It’s not that simple. Gaius collapsed the Dungeon himself. There’s a risk of spillage. Apparently, they found a spawn monster. It’s a creature that can easily spawn hundreds of minor monsters over a few days. And that’s classified as a problem. If the monster got loose, hordes of monsters could easily swarm the city. Captain Drusillus said if anyone tries to rescue them, they will be court-martialed.”

“What? Isn’t the court-martial only for the military?”

“No, Joey. If a civilian creates risk at the city level, they will be executed. And that’s because our laws consider infringing these laws as treason. And traitors are subject to military laws. So, no adventurer is going to rescue Gaius and his team. Plus, Gaius knows very well that after all the mess the adventurers have made, they will not be rescued. Captain Drusillus will not put anyone at risk to save them. Dungeons like the one in the mine need air and energy. My best guess is that Captain Drusillus is going to call in experts to seal the place shut and cut out any external environmental Mana.”

You know, I don’t like to swear.

I really don’t.

But.

FUCK.

“Are you saying there is nothing we can do to save Gaius?” I say with a dismayed face.

I know stories about the monsters inside that stupid Dungeon. Apparently, they come out of dark sacks on the walls; they are pitch black and similar to dogs, just with huge maws and two-clawed legs.

Oh, man.

Oh, God.

Oh, for God’s sake.

I know where this is going.

“Well, it is what is, Lucillus,” I say with a hint of urgency, “I need to have a chat with Stan about the raw materials for my recipes, you know…”

I start running upstairs.

This would be the story of how we got chocolate and coffee and how I probably ate too much of both, but, again, more important stuff is in the way.

“Stan!” I bang on the door where some of the coffee is kept.

“Stan! Open the door!” I bang again, stronger.

The man looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

He’s probably never seen me like this.

“Stan, I need your help. Gaius and his team are trapped in the Dungeon. We both know you are freakishly strong. Can you save them?”

Stan strokes his silver beard and exhales.

“I can, Joey. But I won’t. I don’t meddle with higher powers. This bakery is as much of the world as I can take.”

“Are you goddamn joking?” I seize the man by the arms. They are sinewy but hard as steel. “Stan, these people are going to die! Goddammit! Are you out of your mind?!”

“And you will be executed if you try to help them, young man,” Stan says with a sad smile.

“Jesus! Stan, I’m sure no one can do shit to you! Please!”

Stan silently puts my arms down and gestures for me to follow him into my room. He sits tiredly on a chair, and Grigio sits at his feet.

“Joey, it’s going to be very hard for me to explain and for you to understand. If you want me to, I will leave this place. But my role has always been the meddler, ok? You could say it was my official job description. And it ruined me. I don’t meddle in mortal affairs anymore. People die, people suffer. And that’s how everything works. I’ve refused to further help my family, and I assure you they are much more convincing than you. I renounced everything in exchange for peace. I just want to live my last years without causing any more trouble. Can you understand? And don’t worry, if you can’t, I’ll just leave—”

There’s pain in Stan’s voice. Even an idiot like me can see some of the suffering this man has gone through.

“It’s fine, Stanimal,” I go up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

We exchange a meaningful stare, and I just say:

“Remind me where you put the ‘anti-theft’ equipment you bought, please.”

…

You can only chug three or more Mana potions before you feel extremely sick. That is if your talent sucks. Some people can drink four to five potions. Others, like me, can drink ten.

First, is this going to be enough to keep me alive?

I don’t think so.

But it is what it is.

Second, why?

Something to do with my talent.

When I asked the book, I discovered that if the Mana potions were totally pure, I could drink… guess how many.

Yeah, twenty-three.

Stupid, weird number.

So, I’m donning some protective gear. Stanimal bought a lot of this stuff in case we ever got into a serious spat with adventurers without him.

Now, I stocked up on potions of every kind.

And while I’m in our warehouse under the bakery, I hear footsteps approaching.

From the top of the stairs, I see a weary Stanimal smiling like a worried grandpa.

“Take these two,” Stan throws a large wand made of steel and an amulet. “But don’t keep them in the open.”

“The wand is a catalyst. It will help with magic and has a [Haste] enchantment on top of it. The amulet creates a strong barrier around you. Don’t die, Joey.”

Stan doesn’t look back as he goes upstairs and leaves two priceless artifacts on the ground.

Well, we’re on, baby!