“You want me to heal... what, exactly?”

  “Eh?” Jin blinked, exchanging a stupefied look with the middle-aged healer. “My arm… it’s healed? It’s supposed to be third-degree burns. Got hit by fireballs and stuff.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Jin knew the pain was real. The memory of his flesh hissing as it turned charred black remained vivid, his nerves had shrieked until the fire scoured them to silence. At the very least, it would leave a scar. Not that he cared. But he wasn’t going to risk a RIFT-born infection – those alien microorganisms were the stuff of medical horror stories.

  He prepared for the worst, but when he yanked his sleeve up to his elbow to show the healer, the words died in his throat. There was no blackened flesh. No oozing raw muscle or charred skin.

  Instead, the skin of his right arm was pristine – smooth, healthy, and entirely devoid of even a faint scar. The only thing out of place was a few stray bits of lint stuck to his elbow by sweat.

  The healer, who had been readying his spell for what might be a difficult session, let out a dry chuckle and kept his hands away.

  “Young man,” the man said, a knowing smile etched on his tired face. “Are you sure you’re not one of those guys?”

  “Those guys?” Jin echoed the words before turning around. Seated on a folding chair inside one of the SeComm ad-hoc treatment tents with the scent of the humid night of Ward 5 pressed against him was the aftermath of the C-Rank RIFT.

  Players covered in soot, dust and ash, with many having burned injuries, lay around, attended by several healers. Outside, it was still chaotic but less so compared to when he first arrived here.

  A few Players and SeComm officials came in and brought out some stretchers. For those with severe injuries, onsite treatment was not enough. While they were bringing the injured out, the middle-aged healer continued where he left off.

  “See that guy?”

  Jin nodded. At the corner, lying and squirming as if the world was still burning him, was a Player wrapped in a thick blanket.

  “He had been here since the beginning. And despite the fact that we had healed him, as you can see, he is still acting like he’s injured. Like you, young man.”

  Jin was at a loss for words.

  The healer chuckled. “But I understand.” He gave Jin a playful wink. “For what it’s worth, we got to squeeze those stingy HQ bastards for extra commissions.”

  Jin didn't answer. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly abashed.

  He wasn't even registered for the SeComm search party, so there was no commission to claim. He was a man who had survived a literal hell, only for his body to play a trick on him that defied common sense.

  “I... I must have been mistaken,” Jin muttered, tugging his sleeve back down to hide the flawless skin.

  He stood up and thanked the healer as he exited the treatment tent. He had thought he was extra tired because of the sustained burning injury and affliction he suffered from the fight with the Boss Monster. But that wasn’t the case.

  It was the remnant of Bahamut’s power taking its toll. Despite the lack of an external injury, it felt as if his soul had been dragged from his body with such force that it had ripped in two. All he wanted next was to find his bed and sleep for a week.

  But as he turned to vanish into the crowd, a familiar, grating voice pierced through the ambient noise like a fly with a vengeance.

  “Oi, you fucking KS-er! Don’t you dare leave!”

  Jin sighed. He didn't even have to look to know who it was.

  When will this moron ever learn?

  Jin didn’t want to bother anymore. He’d listened to enough drivel for one day. He continued walking away through the confused crowd, but the tanker – Eleana’s party leader – was relentless. Insults followed as he gave chase, finally lunging forwards to grab Jin’s robe, jerking him to a reluctant stop.

  “Caught you. Let’s see you wiggle out of this, bastard!”

  “Leo, enough is enough,” a voice called out. It was Camillia, pleading with her leader to stop. “You’ve got to drop this, man.”

  “What he did was fair,” another teammate added. “He saved us.”

  “Back off!” Leo shouted at the top of his lungs, drawing even more onlookers. “I’m the team leader. My word is golden!”

  Jin couldn't help it. A muffled, dry laugh escaped his mask. “Your word is golden?”

  “What did you say, you KS-ing bastard?!”

  “The only thing golden about you is your shit, moron,” Jin said, taking his time to turn around. “And the more you talk, the more I’m convinced your mouth is your arsehole.”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Y-You–”

  Leo raised a fist, the desperate swing of a bruised ego. But before he could throw it, a familiar silhouette blurred into motion and clamped onto his wrist.

  “What do you think you’re doing to my friend?”

  “Ironshield,” Jin noted the new arrival. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  “Can say the same about you,” Ironshield replied.

  He shoved Leo’s hand away with a casual force that sent the tanker stumbling. Standing as a wall of muscle between the two, Ironshield loosened his shoulder and cracked his knuckles. His voice dropped to a cold and serious tone. “Tell me exactly what warrants this aggression.”

  Leo rubbed his wrist, his face twisted in pain. “So, you’re the famous Ironshield. I heard you retired years ago. What brings you back, old-timer? Helping this KS-er?”

  “KS-er?” Ironshield looked at Jin, then back at Leo, and erupted into a laugh that shook his chest. “Frank? A kill-stealer? Hah!”

  “What’s so funny, old man?!”

  “Old man? My, my. Doesn't White Raven teach you any manners?” Ironshield’s expression darkened. “Is Alicia getting soft? Or should I talk to Hunter about the shit you’re spouting into my ears?”

  Leo’s mouth snapped shut, though defiance never left him. His party members joined him at his side, though they showed far more respect to the legendary veteran than their leader did.

  Turned out that Jin had his own reinforcements, too, besides Ironshield. Old Man Sid, Take, and Saki and the whole Saitama’s Mad Angel biker gang arrived shortly after, squaring up behind Jin. The number of the onlookers grew, the air now thick and heavy enough that SeComm officers began to move in.

  “So,” Ironshield said, his voice carrying over the crowd. “You’re saying Frank kill-stole a Level 60 Boss? With one hit? Hear that, everyone? This kid claims a Level 15, Bronze V Herbalist one-shotted a C-Rank RIFT Boss!”

  The crowd burst into mocking laughter.

  “An Herbalist? Isn’t that a Supporter type? One-shotting a boss?” someone jeered.

  “C-Rank at that too,“ another added, almost laughing at his own words. “How much sulphur did you breathe in there, kid?”

  Leo stood shell-shocked. He stared at the Player ID that Jin held out, proving his registered level and class. It was, to put it a simple term, an impossible feat.

  “Half an hour later and we’d all be dead,” Jin added, his voice calm but piercing. “Cataclysm is one thing, but molten lava in the middle of the city? Luckily, that unknown high-ranked Player was willing to mop up your mistakes. I wish I were him.”

  The crowd shifted in an instant. Every Player hated a kill-stealer, but they hated incompetent leaders who endangered the city even more. Within their hushed conversations, the verdict was clear – this was a case of mistaken identity.

  “You’re lying!” Leo was adamant, his eyes running wild. “You’re the one who defeated it. Your arm! Yes. Your arms. It had burns. Show us!”

  “You mean this?” Without any hesitation, Jin pulled his sleeve up with a smirk etched on his face.

  His skin was pristine. No burns. No scars. Not even a scratch.

  To drive the stake further, Jin lowered his hood and removed his mask. A different kind of hush fell over the crowd as they took in his features.

  “Pays to be handsome, huh?” Old Man Sid whispered. He didn't look surprised one bit as another wave of the crowd succumbed to Jin’s presence. “If this were me, I’d be hanging from a lamp post by now.”

  Leo and his party had lost. Their accusations withered in Jin’s web of half-truths. The SeComm officers, having heard enough nonsense, began dispersing the crowd.

  “You’ll never get away with this,” Leo spat as he walked past, trying to shoulder-check Jin.

  The man didn't even have to try. Instead, he stepped aside, letting the tanker stumble forwards, looking more like a petulant child than a professional high-ranked Player.

  On the walk home, the group kept their silence until they were well out of earshot of the lingering passersby. When the air was finally clear, Ironshield was the first to speak.

  “So, did you kill the Boss?”

  “Had to,” Jin replied. “Otherwise, the Cataclysm would have triggered. That means more work for both of us.”

  “Oh? I thought you were the type who avoid other people’s business.”

  “This time, I needed to.”

  “Fair enough. I had your back because I trust you. But White Raven isn't a company that takes a loss with a shrug. They’ll come for you sooner or later.”

  At the mention of ‘White Raven’, Old Man Sid’s face went pale. He shot a glance at Jin, who acknowledged the secret shared between them with a silent, heavy nod.

  But Jin wasn’t going to take it lying down. “They can bugger off. If they want to come for me, let them. I’ll be ready. They aren't 'Achievers' – they’re a bunch of whiners who can't handle losing.”

  “Big talk. And I always think you’re the calm and cautious one.” Ironshield let out a booming laugh. “My old company, Valiant Blaze, never got along with them, but this is the first time I’ve heard someone openly challenge a Top Ten company in Neo-Tokyo. If your balls weren't made of steel before, they sure are now. But…”

  “But?”

  “If you’re going to war with them, invite me. I have a debt of my own to settle with Hunter, White Raven’s President.”

  “Don’t forget me, Big Bro!” Take added, joining Saki and the rest of the Mad Angels in voicing their support.

  Morons fighting morons, Jin thought as he cracked into a smile. And I’m the biggest moron of all for letting Eleana leave with them. When the time comes, I’ll make sure she walks away from that company for good.

  ***

  A few days later, inside a SeComm practise arena.

  “Oi, Ironshield. Got a moment?”

  The big man looked up, wiping sweat from his brow with a towel. “Where do you get that much stamina, Frank? You’ve put me on my bum more times in a single session than I have in twenty years as an active Player. And now you want another round?”

  “No. I’ve had enough training for today. I want to ask you about something else.”

  “Oh? What’s on your mind?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Tonight, at Sid’s place. You free?”

  Ironshield nodded, standing up to exchange a firm handshake with Jin before parting ways.

  Later that night, the two met as planned, but this time Sid and Elise were there to complete the circle.

  “Hey, Frank? I never knew you and Sid had a daughter,” Ironshield joked as he walked in.

  “Fuck off, baldie,” Old Man Sid snapped as he handed the guest a can of beer. “I don’t swing that way, and Elise is not my or Frank’s daughter.”

  “I was kidding! Sheesh,” Ironshield said, cracking a grin as he took a swig of the ice-cold beer. “Lighten up, old man, or those wrinkles are going to get permanent. One look tells me she’s too pretty to be related to you. Or Frank, for that matter, since they’re around the same age.”

  “Oh, my,” Elise said, her eyes twinkling. “I’m not Frank’s daughter. I’m his future wife.”

  Ironshield choked on his drink, though Jin brushed it off as nothing more than a flirtatious tease. Elise didn’t stop there, holding the veteran’s arms and caressing his biceps, commenting on how firm, hard and ‘experienced’ it still was.

  “Careful now,” Old Man Sid warned. “Or that won't be the only thing getting hard on a middle-aged man. If it still works, anyway.”

  The brunette laughed while Ironshield looked on in mock chagrin. As they waited for dinner – Elise having once again volunteered as the cook - Jin’s expression turned solemn over the table.

  “After thinking it over for a few days, I’ve made my mind up,” he said with a calm voice.

  The playful banter died away. Old Man Sid and Ironshield looked at him with a mix of curiosity and unease.

  “I want to start a company.”