Dumog woke up from his week-long coma. It was one of the best times he had woken up, he felt like a new man. The lack of car noise from outside felt alien to him. And for a moment, he had forgotten that he was in another world, making him jolt at the realization. When he tried to wipe the sweat off his forehead did realization hit him that all his limbs were strapped on the bed. After screaming for help for a few seconds, a beautiful woman went through the curtains surrounding the bed.

“Finally awake,” she was smoking a small wooden pipe that had a crystal attached on its end. The crystal emitted a cool, light blue, whenever she inhaled. An icy cold mist expelled through her nose.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Dumog thought that she was very pretty, but there was a sense of danger that he felt coming from her.

“I’m a colleague of your master, who should be coming anytime now,” she took another drag from her pipe, then left him there.

“You’re not going to untie me?” He heard the door close. It took 20 minutes until he heard the door open again.

“You’re alive! I knew you were a fighter,” Jacked immediately went to unstrap him. “Before we have a nice talk, we should get out of here first, quickly.”

They got Dumog out of the leather straps. He was wearing a medical gown, the Kobold rags under them. Finally more clothing, he thought.

The lady was nowhere to be seen in the large room. It looked more like a medical bay than an office. Lying around were medical equipment, which gave Dumog an idea of the world’s technological state. Though he was still unsure if they were more or less advanced when compared to his own world. What he did know was that he wanted to play and fiddle around with the tools.

“Let’s try to be quiet and we’ll sneak our way out of here,” Jacked whispered.

Dumog followed Jacked’s movements, tiptoeing to the door. He could sense that Jacked was extremely worried from his facial expression and the sheen of sweat on his bald head.

Once again, he was surprised by how athletic and healthy the old man was. Every step he took made no sound, unlike Dumog’s heavy ones. It took a considerable amount of physical effort to minimize the sounds of his footsteps. His muscles were already aching and cramping, he didn’t get to warm up before this.

After a few grueling seconds, they had finally reached the door. Jacked reached and turned the handle. He looked behind to check on Dumog before opening the door.

A double barrel shotgun greeted them on the other side of the door. The wooden grip was masterfully carved, as well as the metal engravings on the barrel, which had bronze accents. Attached to its sides were extra shells that emitted the same light as the gem that the woman was smoking. Dumog thought that the gun was as pretty as the one pointing it at them.

“You bitch!” Jacked screamed at her.

“Is that how you’re going to talk to the person you owe money to?” She pressed the gun to his forehead.

“Nox, can’t you do an old friend a favor?”

“I already did, with that discount I gave you,” she motioned for them to take a seat in front of her desk.

“The price you gave me already had the discount applied? How the fuck is it so expensive?” He looked over to Dumog. “I’m sorry, I tried.”

“What’s happening?” Dumog asked.

“Jacked brought you here to get you treated. Then it turns out that you had a lot of diseases, allergies, and immunity deficiencies. Jacked thought the money he’d get from the job would be enough for your treatment. It wasn’t,” Nox summarized.

“Now that you say, I can breathe through my nose better. How much did everything cost?” He tried practicing breathing through his nose.

“Around 12,000 Gold.”

As soon as she said the price, Jacked cringed in his seat. Dumog didn’t know how to react yet as he had no idea how the currency worked.

“Oh right, you were from the sticks. For comparison, the job from the mayor only got me 120 Gold,” Jacked explained.

He finally freaked out. Feeling lightheaded, he almost fell out of his seat. The disciple and master were doing breathing exercises to keep themselves calm. Nox let them have their moment before continuing.

“Being the good friend that I am, I gave your master a decent discount,” she wrote something down and used the abacus. “Which brings your bill down to 10,000 Gold,” Nox smiled at them.

“You skank! Why didn’t you tell me before doing the treatment?” Jacked wanted to cry.

“You knew how many diseases he had before I started. Besides, are you saying that you would let your ‘dear student’ die for 10,000 Gs?”

“Of course! I barely know the guy,” Jacked looked over to Dumog. “No offense. Glad you’re alive,” he smiled.

Dumog was hurt by that. He didn’t know what to say to Jacked so he turned to Nox. “I’m sorry lady, I don’t think you’re pretty anymore.”

“I don’t care what you think of me,” she sighed. “I just want your money. And seeing as how you came in here in rags, Jacked is going to pay for it,” she pressed a few buttons on a device.

“You materialistic skank, after all we’ve been through,” he brought out a palm-sized crystal table, and waved it over the device.

“That’s why I’m working for royalty, my friend. Getting rich has always been the plan,” she gave the device a pat and smiled, content with her work. “I’m sure you two can work out an arrangement to get that money back.”

“Master would be ashamed of you, using his knowledge for money,” Jacked really tried to hurt Nox in some way.

“He took me in knowing of my goals,” she shrugged and leaned back in her chair.

“Come on Dumog, let’s get out of here,”

“Oh yeah, the Mayor wanted to talk to you before you leave. Dumog, you can hang that gown by the door.”

Jacked slammed the door shut, and Dumog was once again only wearing the diapers. They were greeted by a man in an intricate uniform. He introduced himself as the Mayor’s personal assistant, and that he was sent there to guide them to the mayor. The assistant gave Dumog a head to toe scan with a disapproving look. Turning his nose up, he continued walking.

It was a large mansion, far larger than any house that Dumog has been in. The mansion doubled as the town hall, some of the offices were located in the lower floors where the commoners could access. Dedicated for the Mayor and his family was the second floor and above.

In whatever way that Dumog moved his head he was greeted by paintings of either the Mayor when he was younger or his ancestors. Dumog was sure that one of them was moving, it depicted a battlefield filled with waves upon waves of monsters he couldn’t ever imagine. He couldn’t get a good look with the speed that the assistant was walking.

Jacked was still silent and salty about losing the money. Even though it was Dumog who was now in debt. In his mind–because Jacked called himself an archmage–he imagined the money he lost barely affected his total net worth.

Dumog got nervous as they got closer. It was going to be the first time he would be talking to royalty. From the previous painting he had seen, he expected him to be just as good looking. His imagination ran wild, he started daydreaming about the mayor’s–nonexistent–hot daughter. That at the sight of the person who risked his life for her father, would jump into his arms and let him marry into the rich family. A scenario in which would surely pay off his debt.

The personal assistant opened a pair of heavy double doors, revealing a dining hall.

Inside sat three people at a dining table far too large for ten people. It looked like you had to scream to be able to talk to the person across from you. What was worse was the placement of the food served, they would either have to stand up and lean over, or call the servants for help. The food on the table could also feed a dozen people.

The man in the middle didn’t look like any of the men portrayed in the paintings. He was the biggest one in town, not in terms of height or muscle. The food in front of him and on his plate could feed an entire family, full.

“Welcome, my heroes!” The mayor said with his mouth full. He chugged his full glass of wine, some of it spilling down the sides of his mouth.

“Good Afternoon, Mayor Takaw,” Jacked said unenthused and without a single shred of respect.

“Hohoho, maybe you’re the one who needs a liveliness booster,” the Mayor gave a hearty laugh, each syllable of it sounding like a chance of him having a heart attack.

“Oh dear, no dirty jokes on the table,” his wife said. She looked half her husband’s age, and she was attractive enough for Dumog to get mad at the mayor out of jealousy. Her voice and looks enhanced the idea that she was stupid. Though she is smart enough to marry rich.

“That medicine of yours was really effective. I performed better than I ever did in my 50 years of living. My wife can confirm it, hohohoho,” the laugh started to annoy both Dumog and Jacked, for different reasons.

“Oh it sure did work,” she blushed.

“Maybe if he lost some weight and started exercising he wouldn’t need medicine to help him ‘stand up’,” Jacked whispered to Dumog and snickered.

“Wait, I thought the mayor had a disease or something that needed curing,” Dumog whispered back.

“Yeah it sure did cure his marriage. You won’t believe how mean she was a week ago, she was so cranky.”

That was when Dumog realized that he almost died and was now 10,000 Gold in debt for another man’s sex life. He couldn’t believe it, his dreams of heroism crushed once again.

“I do sincerely thank you, my heroes. You saved us,” the way the Mayor said it made him want to jump on the table and strangle his fat neck. He decided not to, he didn’t want to go to prison in this world as well.

While reminding himself that he got a second chance in life, he noticed the kid staring at him from the far left. His eyes were extreme and intense, like he wanted to hurt Dumog.

“I haven’t introduced you yet, this is our son, Cletus,” the Mayor’s wife pointed at the child. “He’s a little genius, even named himself when he first started talking at eight months old. He’s six years old now! Oh my, time sure does fly.”

“Hello, Cletus! My name is Dumog,” he still wanted a good impression on the nobled, so he gave him his classic smile. The mayor and his wife were bothered by it. Cletus on the other hand didn’t react to it that way.

A few breaths later, Cletus’ whole demeanor switches. He gave him a wonderful smile in return, then said, “I know, I’ve seen you in Archmage Nox’s office. How are your wounds? Looks like you got stitches,” the kid let out a soft chuckle.

Dumog didn’t know what was funny, but he still let out his own laugh. “I think I’m healing well actually, I can breathe through my nose now. It’s not clogged anymore.”

“Proud of you,” Jacked said sarcastically. Remembering the money he spent for his student to not be a mouth-breather, pained him.

The mayor continued stuffing his face, forgetting that he had guests. “Oh you were still here. Well, I said my thanks, my assistant can show you out and give you your reward,” gravy dripping down his third chin.

Cletus smiled at Dumog with a frozen face until he left the dining hall.

They step out of the mansion and the assistant handed Jacked a pouch that jingled. That still didn’t make him merry though. A few steps down the front door they see a familiar figure, Amihan.

She had her backpack on and she sat on the stairs of the mansion. Hands under her chin and her bucket hat shielding her eyes from the rays of the sun, she looked bored more than usual.

“I’m alive!” Dumog popped up in front of her.

She just looked at him with dead eyes and gave a short puff through her nose. Then, she continued looking at the ground.

Jacked sat next to her and put his hands under his chin as well. He let out a big sigh. Amihan clicked her tongue but remained seated.

“Come on guys, why are you so down? We have a whole day ahead of us to figure things out. And the weather is so nice,” he stretched his arms out and felt the wind on his naked body.

“You’re awfully cheerful for someone in debt,” Jacked sighed again.

“Debt?” Amihan broke her silence.

“The treatment bill stacked up. He owes me 10,000 Gs.”

“That’s sad, do you think he’ll ever pay it off?”

“If this whole disciple thing doesn’t work out I can still harvest his organs. I’ll get my money back somehow,” he stared at Dumog, assessing which parts would get him the most.

“Scumbag Wizard,” she said.

Dumog sat down with them on the steps, his blind positivity not effective. They sat there in silence, the mood all sour. Dumog asked her what her plans were, and she responded that she didn’t have any. Then, he asked the same question to Jacked, who didn’t respond. This wasn’t the fantasy world experience that Dumog hoped for. After an hour, Jacked stood up and stretched.

“Okay, my depression is over. I’m a new man now, let’s go grab something to eat.”

“Let’s go!” It was going to be Dumog’s first real meal in a while.

Amihan nodded. Jacked smiled cheekily knowing no one would pass up free food.

The mayor’s mansion was in the center of the rich side of the town. Jacked brought them to the opposite side, near the slums and the homeless camps. Even though it was only a few meters away, the drastic change surprised Dumog. It was daily dense with people, but not as much as the place Dumog grew up in. At one point, he thought that he saw a dwarf. He wanted to chase and talk to them but he was also scared of getting separated from the group.

They stopped in front of a saloon-looking building, its windows either had a hole or boarded up. There were a couple of tough-looking shirtless guys hanging out in front of it. Their expressions changed when they saw Jacked, all smiles.

“Jacked! Haven’t seen you in a while. That stuff you sold me last time was really good, it really hit. Might have to buy another batch soon,” one of them said. They all had the same outfit on, a wide brim straw hat and blue pants. Jacked and the man performed a secret handshake.

Jealous of the friendliness among them, Dumog walked up to them wanting to be a part of it. “What’s good? Hello,” it wasn’t smooth at all.

“Is this guy bothering you, Big J?” The other members of the group surrounded Dumog. They all started pushing him with their chests and verbally harassing him.

“It’s okay Straw Hat Boys, he’s with me. That’s my new disciple,” Jacked explained.

“I thought your disciple was bigger. This one is kind of small don’t you think?”

“The old one ditched me. And this one is just a late bloomer,” he shrugged.

“If you say so. Holler if you need help, we’re always free for you,” they let him go through.

Jacked dragged Dumog inside, by the arm. “Why are you so weird?” He was pissed.

Inside the building looked like a mix of a bar and a canteen. There were servers walking around with plates full of food and alcohol. The customers looked as dangerous–some even more–as the ones outside. Most of them had some sort of weapon on them. Some people were standing in front of a bulletin board, thinking.

“What is this place?” Dumog looked around like a child who can’t keep still. “Is it like an adventurer’s guild?”

“A what? It’s a temporary job agency, they also have accommodations if you work for them like rooms and food. They take a cut from the odd jobs posted on the board,” Jacked called over one of the servers. “Pay isn’t consistent though, so don’t think you can pay your debt off through this alone. The risk is way higher than the reward.”

“So do they kill monsters and things?”

“No, well, sometimes. Most of the time it’s mercenary recruitment, bodyguarding a trade caravan, or just random chores that no one can hire a professional to do. Yes, hello, three free meals,” Jacked handed over the coupons.

“There’s another thing I want to ask?”

“You’re all questions. Shoot.”

“Why is an archmage like you, eating for free in a place like this?”

“Haven’t you realized? He’s as homeless as you and me,” Amihan quipped. “Since he works for the royal family–through the work he does for the academy–they have to support him in some way. They do it through these job agencies.”

“You see, unlike Nox, I seek a greater goal and meaning in life other than getting rich,” he dusted his shoulders off.

“So we don’t even have a place to stay?” Dumog assumed that his master was loaded because of his title.

Their food came, roasted chicken and boiled vegetables. Dumog suspected that the food had been reheated leftovers from the previous day. They couldn’t complain though and happily ate.

After eating, they stayed at the place for a bit, as none of them had any plans at all. They sat there not speaking a word to each other. It didn’t take long until Dumog got bored and curious, he started walking around.

He checked the bulletin board after the group of armed people were done looking through it, he didn’t want a repeat of earlier. The jobs listed on it were exactly as Jacked explained. Just random chores that people with regular jobs don’t want to deal with and mercenary work. Most of it was low pay, but that was after the job center took a cut.

A flier caught his eye. It was a bonus for forming an official group and signing a contract with the job center. If they signed a contract to work towards a monthly quota, they would get a bonus in their pay and the agency takes less money per job. He brought a copy of the flier to their table.

“Hey guys, look what I found,” he placed it in front of them.

The two read through it, Amihan didn’t seem that interested nor was she opposed to it. Jacked on the other hand, was getting ideas.

“This is the same contract the Straw Hat Boys are on. They’re currently rivals with the Beefcake Boys because of the similar theme. This could work, but it depends on her too,” Jacked pointed at Amihan. “Aren’t you on a journey or whatever you called it?”

“Sure, I’m in.”

“Are you fine working with a wizard? You’re not going to hit me again are you?” Jacked teased.

“So how are we going to split the pay?” Dumog asked.

“50 for me and the other half you two can split on your own,” Amihan quickly answered.

“Then I’d take 50 as well!” Jacked smiled.

“How about me?”

“You owe me money, remember? Don’t worry I’ll pay for you when you need something. YOu’d be able to pay me faster this way anyways,” Jacked said.

“Do we need to call ourselves a dumb name as well?” Amihan asked.

“Since Dumog’s the one who’s not getting money, he can choose the name for us.”

“Hmm,” he thought long and hard about it. Since the other groups either sounded like a boy band or a stripper group he decided to go for a wrestling theme. “How about Chokeslam?”

“Sounds stupid,” Jacked said.

“I don’t care,” she went back to sharpening her knife.

“It’s settled then!” Dumog skipped to the front desk.