It's impossible not to think back to the previous night with Miltia.

At least they were considerate or maybe just wanted to avoid any awkwardness between us, considering I got a free day.

But seriously fuck that, and what the hell did Melanie mean by 'family rules'?

But instead of overcomplicating things for myself and getting tangled in their whatever fucked up family dynamics they might have, I push those thoughts aside. I focus on my day job, placing another crate into the shipping container.

It doesn't matter anymore. What happened sucks, but it's in the past. I'm sure the twins would appreciate it if I forgot about it, just as they probably will. As I stack the crates, I can't help but hope for a distraction, anything to take my mind off the confusing mess that is my life.

So, I grab another crate from my inventory and carefully slot it into the last available spot inside the metal container. Stepping back, I admire the neat, organized tower of crates I've just created.

Satisfied, I nod and step outside, closing the container doors and sliding the hinges into place, securing it with a lock. Placing my hands on my waist, I take a moment to appreciate the full container, a solo achievement for the day. I'm definitely improving at this…

Should I even feel proud of this?

Whatever.

For now, my workday is pretty much done. Tomorrow, I'll tackle the next container.

Glancing at the time, I realize I have a couple of hours before nightfall. Perfect for diving into my Weaver job and leveling it up. Maybe even crafting a new plushie.

Though, I haven't gone fishing in a while. The thought of catching big fishes and cooking them brings back fond memories.

The problem is, there's no good fishing spot nearby. Renting a boat and heading into the deep sea is out of the question; I don't know how to sail; it costs money, and there's no easy way to sell my catch, unlike in Kuo Kuana, where I could just go to the old man and give it to him.

The idea of fishing in Patch, being so close to Vale, crosses my mind. However, getting permission to leave Vale seems practically impossible, especially with Cinder being the eternal bitch and her lapdogs.
Maybe… I can try to negotiate for a day off?

With Neo's help, I might have a shot. I could even sweeten the deal by proposing a fully paid vacation for her. It would be more appealing for her to help me than just helping me from the goodness of her heart.

But as I mull over these plans, my thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of my scroll. I quickly check the caller ID, surprised to see Jeanne's name on the screen. Because she usually prefers sending text messages.
Deciding to answer, I wonder if she's looking to train again before she leaves…

Oh, right. She needs a ride to the airport.

"Jeanne?"

"Hey."

"Hey, how are you?"

"Been better..."

Her dejected tone makes me frown, sensing that something is amiss.

"Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, like... can you come to the park? The same as always."

"Sure."

"Thanks."

She ends the call first, leaving me staring at my scroll.

I blink once before putting it back into my pocket, thinking for a moment. Because her tone has me worried. What kind of problem has she stumbled into that she can only tell me face-to-face?
She isn't a bad person, and pretty dumb to try anything shady.

Oh, fuck… her debt.

It hits me like a brick. Jeanne hasn't paid off her debt yet, and she simply doesn't have the money. And those loan sharks must have come knocking, demanding full payment. I can't think of any other reason for her to end up like that, so defeated.

It's fortunate that I finished my work early so I can leave without problems. So I make a quick exit from the warehouse, summoning my bike. Without wasting a moment, I hop on, ignite the engine, kick the first gear, and speed towards the park.

Riding as fast as I can, dodging traffic and keeping an eye out for any cop, I reach the park we agreed to.

The park, once eerily quiet, now bustled with life as families enjoyed their day. Children giggled, their laughter echoing against the trees, and parents chatted on blankets spread across the green grass. Which is strange considering that every time, at least when we trained, it was empty.

Hopefully, it won't be a problem when trying to find that clumsy knightess.

Pulling my bike to a full stop, I dismiss it with a mere touch, watching it vanish into my inventory. Only then I move to search for my troubled apprentice.

Walking past a couple of cheerful families and through the shade of trees, I stumble upon the sight of a blonde girl sitting on a bench all alone. Her posture screams defeat, as if a storm cloud hovers just above her. What truly catches me off guard is how she is dressed, no armor in sight. Instead, she is wearing a pair of jeans and a black hoodie. Her hair, typically neatly braided into a ponytail, cascades messily down her shoulders.

What the fuck happened to her in these days?

Approaching her with slow steps, I cast a shadow over her. Still, she remains silent, her gaze fixed on the ground. "Hey, Jeanne."

A slight twitch in her reaction, and she slowly raises her head to meet my eyes. "Hey," she says, forcing a smile that does a poor job and trying to hide her situation.

I move closer, taking a seat beside her on the bench. "So, ready to tell me what happened?"

Jeanne remains silent, a heavy sigh escaping her as she reaches for her scroll. Unlocking it, she hands it over to me, revealing a letter with Beacon's emblem on the screen.

Taking the device from her hands, I start reading its contents. And at first glance, it appears to be an official announcement.

Ah, shit…

Don't tell me that my little incursion into the Emerald Forest is the reason for this change. I didn't do anything bad or weird in that forest; I just killed a bunch of Grimm. Nothing wrong with that; better said, people should be grateful for making the world a little safer.

Just a coincidence, has to be an unfortunate coincidence.

"Well, that sucks, postponed by two weeks. But that's an inconvenience at most," I grumble, placing the scroll on my thigh.

She looks at me with the same crestfallen expression. "My job contract ended, Ma'iq."

"Oh…"

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

Jobless.

Now I can understand why she'd be feeling so down; without her job, surviving those two weeks will be tough since she is now stuck with whatever money she has left in her wallet.

"Can't you just ask to get rehired or something?" I suggest. I am pretty sure it wouldn't be an issue for her; just two more weeks and the place seemed to need more hands.

But that question is swiftly shot down as she shakes her head. "I tried; my position was already taken."

"Oh… well, that's a problem."

I pick up the scroll and take another look at Beacon's letter.

"Say, Jeanne…" I move a little closer to her and point at a specific part of the letter. "This says that Beacon will help you with your lodging issues. Free of charge."

That's pretty considerate of them. Jeanne wouldn't have to worry about money problems since everything would be covered. Plus, she could use that time to fully focus on training and maybe even unlock her aura.

But, once again, my idea gets shot down by a slow shake of her head. She slowly raises her head and gives me a defeated smile. "I can't use that."

"Why not?"

"If I apply for help, then they will check my transcripts and discover that they are fake."

"How can you tell?"

"I don't know, but I really don't want to risk it, Ma'iq." She sighs.

"I see…" I can understand now why she feels doomed. This doesn't look good so far.

"And I have that debt to pay…" she added but trails off, looking to the side.

"Yeah, about that…" That was my initial presumption of what her main problem was, but now it's just another problem to the mountain of problems piling up on her. "How bad is it now?" I ask, fully prepared to hear a stupid amount of money.

She gulps. "15000 liens"

I wince at the number. It is just like I predicted weeks ago, the small loan would ridiculously explode in debt. Although, there is a silver lining that it hasn't gone higher than that, probably because she has been paying a small amount all this time but now that she is jobless she won't be able to pay those small installments and her debt will irremediably explode.

"And how much money do you have at hand?" I ask, to understand what we are working with and maybe even think of a solution for my friend.

"Five thousand." She meekly answers.

Yeah…

She's fucked.

That little thing finally caught up with her; maybe she would have escaped the whole debt thing if Beacon had started on schedule as planned.

Fuck, I know it isn't my fault that this happened. But I can't shake off the nagging feeling of guilt that I somehow contributed to this big clusterfuck.

I hand her back her scroll and lean back against the bench, resting my head and looking at the blue sky with my arms crossed, deep in thought, trying to come up with a solution for her.

Maybe she could sell some of her belongings, but what did she have that was worth anything? The only things I know she owns are her weapon and armor, and I highly doubt she would part with them. She had told me once that they were a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation. She wouldn't do something like that.

And even if she somehow ends up selling everything she owns, not to mention how screwed she'll be going to Beacon totally unarmed, I'm well aware of how loan sharks operate with their debts and debtors.

They'll pile on a ton of bullshit reasons and fees on top of the ongoing debt, making it practically impossible for Jeanne to ever pay it off and ensuring she's economically crippled for life.

Unless… I step up.

I unfold my arms and grab my scroll to check my lien account balance.

I have around eighty-one thousand lien; not really a fortune. However, this time I have a valid reason for my less-than-impressive balance. My short incursion into the forest left my weapons damaged or completely destroyed, so I had to buy replacements and repairs for everything. That alone, including the 'silence fee'—because, fuck you, I guess—cost me quite a bit of money. And that's not even counting the rent payment and routine grocery restock.

I should probably find another place to buy my equipment; I have a sneaky suspicion that the bastard is selling me low quality weapons since they break or get damaged so often.

Returning my focus to Jeanne's debt, I figure I would need at least fifty grand to cover her entire debt, factoring in all sorts of bogus charges they will come up with.

This will set me back again, but it won't be as bad compared to the last time because I have my bartender's job. With the tips, I'll be able to recover that much money in a little over a week.

That doesn't mean I like it, and it will hurt to lose that much money to a fucking piece of shit, but that's the best I can come up with because I simply cannot kick their teeth in to solve this mess.

"We will go pay off your debt," I announce, scratching my head.

"Huh?" My apprentice snaps her head, her wide blue eyes staring at me.

"I will pay it off in full, and you can repay me later," I explain with a strained smile.

"You… you really don't have to…" She bites her lip, looking conflicted. "I don't want to take advantage of you after you've been helping me all this time."

raise a hand to stop her from indulging in self-pity. "Look, you're in trouble, that's a fact. I would be a really shitty person if I did nothing to help you." I let out a chuckle and smirk at her. "Besides, I have pretty good money saved up; it won't affect me."

Much.

"... it's still a lot of money," she tries to protest.

I shrug in response. "I've been through worse; I'll manage."

Not a lie.

Jeanne finally lights up and practically jumps me, trapping my head and pulling me into a crushing hug between her arms and chest. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I keep a smile on my face all the while. My hand sneakily moves behind me, and I grab my tail, stopping it in its tracks.

This time I won't let it win and embarrass me

But, otherwise, my blonde apprentice doesn't release me and keeps me trapped for a while, and I have no complaints, it feels nice.

Really nice.

I find myself letting go for once and allowing my body to move, and before I know it, I'm comfortably nestled in Jeanne's lap. A new warmth is oddly soothing.

I don't know when she finally lets me go, but I do find out when I start feeling ticklish in my ears. I take direct control of my ears, flickering and trying to swat whatever is making them ticklish.

So Nice.

Only to freeze when I remember that it is Jeanne giggling and playing with my ears. I immediately roll away from her lap and stand up, clearing my throat, trying to pretend that I wasn't acting all mushy and cuddly with her.
Why the fuck did I even do that?

Although, she looks happier now…

Shit, I think I'm blushing.

"Just take me to wherever that place is and pay it off," I say, looking away.

"Oh, it's somewhere in the southern part of the residential district," she replies, getting up from the bench. "I don't know the name, but I can point you as we go."

I also don't know street names, but they all kinds serve as landmarks for me to get a sense of direction, so we are on the same page.

"Better get this on fast because I'm pretty sure they are charging you interest per hour." I add, taking the lead towards the streets.

The blonde girl nods and quickly catches up to me.

"Although we should go back to your hotel and pick up your weapons. Just in case." I say.

My friend shakes her head. "I can't. That was one of the conditions when I signed that loan."

I can already tell this won't end well.

As we reach the park's end, right beside the road, I bring my bike back, hopping on it and edging forward to create some space on the seat. Jeanne quickly joins, wrapping her arms around my stomach, settling in for the ride.

With both of us comfortable, I insert the key and give it a quick twist, bringing the engine to life, and engage the gears, slowly leaving the park behind before I kick the next gear.

Navigating through turns, we merge onto the main road, cruising at a moderate speed. Jeanne occasionally points me in a direction to follow, ensuring we stay on the right path.

After another series of turns, we find ourselves in the grittier part of the residential district. No surprise there, these kinds of operations don't thrive where cops actually do their damn job. And after another look of my surroundings, I'm certain that if I ride a couple more blocks, we'll hit the slums, marked by a towering wall that separates them.

"It should be around here," she remarks.

Relying on her guidance, I gently squeeze the brakes, bringing my bike to a smooth stop beside the sidewalk. Jeanne is the first to get off my bike, while I take a moment to stretch my arms before dismounting and securing my bike back into my inventory.

I really love my inventory. It's so convenient in so many ways.

Yet, I can't let our goal slip from focus.

I snap my fingers, catching Jeanne off guard as she turns her head towards me. "Stay sharp," I remind her.

She nods.

With her focused, I scan our surroundings. They match the expectations of a poor area, but this time, there are no drug addicts convulsing on the street. Nevertheless, the buildings remain poorly maintained, and trash is scattered everywhere, as if there's not enough decency to clean up.

"Where to?" I ask.

"That building," she points to a three-story, unpainted brick building. "That's the place where I was paying."

I approach the entrance of the shark den, the metallic door standing tall before me. I give three firm knocks so everyone can hear it loud and clear.

A small panel on the door slides open, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes peering down at us. "The fuck you want?" A gruff voice cuts through the air.

"Settling a debt. Jeanne d'Arc," I declare, motioning with my head to Jeanne standing right behind me.

The bloodshot eyes narrow, shifting their gaze between us, scrutinizing us in an uneasy silence.

"One sec."

The small panel closes with a series of mechanical clanks, accompanied by the distinct sounds of locks and hinges being manipulated.

Within moments, the door swings open, revealing the interior of the building. Cautiously, I take the lead, stepping through the entrance with Jeanne close behind.

"The third door at the end, don't you dare stray," the scrawny figure warns, a far cry from the burly guard I had pictured by the tone of his voice. Despite that pathetic appearance, a quick look at him reveals a gun strapped to his leg.

That might be a problem if things go to shit. I haven't fought people armed with guns before, but I hope things don't reach that point.

"Got it." I reply, complying with his simple directions. I motion for Jeanne to stay close as we walk deeper into the building. Even with a brief glance, it's evident that she's on edge, her nervousness palpable in the way she tenses up.

I silently hope Jeanne manages to steel her nerves before we reach the idiot in charge; any sign of weakness will be exploited.

Walking down the hallway, a strangely common sight in these places, we arrive at the third door. This time, I ignore the formality of knocking and simply twist the doorknob, pushing the door open.

A thick cloud of smoke immediately assaults my senses, the acrid odor invading my nostrils. Jeanne, however, succumbs to a coughing fit, the smoke proving too much for her. I scrunch up my face in disgust, the air heavy with the smoke.

But pushing all of that aside, I focus on front and find a metallic desk at the other end of the room with a man rating his feet on the desk while smoking whatever the fuck he is smoking, looking totally uninterested and blatantly ignoring our arrival.

I approach the desk, getting a clearer view of the man who appears to be a poorly wannabe Roman. Dressed in a black suit with a messy shirt and long black hair tied in a single ponytail.

"Cole said you've come to pay a debt. Is that true?" he finally speaks, not bothering to look directly at us. With a casual gesture, he removes the cigar from his mouth, tapping it into an ashtray.

"Yes, how much?" I respond with a frown, attempting to scan the room. However, it's a waste of time; the space is cluttered with trash, a large couch adjacent to a wooden table with scattered pots and syringes.

My straightforward question elicits a response from the man. He removes his feet from the metal desk, turning his attention to Jeanne with a mocking grin. "Awww, the little girl asked her boyfriend for help.
That's sooo romantic."

"He's—" Jeanne begins, but I immediately step forward, cutting her off and deepening my frown.

"How much?" I hiss, demanding a straightforward answer, unwilling to engage in banter.

The loan shark takes another puff from his cigar, blowing it into a dense cloud. "No fun, no fun, you fucking asshole," he mutters, returning the cigar to his mouth before opening a drawer on his desk. "So, we must consider the interest rate, including the accrued interest for this day, administration fees, compensation for our time, appointment fee, late fees..."

It's an avalanche of total bullshit, but I hate being right.

He pulls out some papers, scrutinizing them before letting out a low whistle. "My dear, you owe us seventy-five thousand."

Something dies inside me.

"75?!" Jeanne screams in shock. "I borrowed just five thousand weeks ago!"

"Heh, you signed the loan. Here," the fucking bastard pulls out a paper from the stack, thrusting it in our faces, showcasing a big and bold signature. "Blame yourself for not reading the contract. Besides, if you hadn't been paying us, your debt would have been AT LEAST one hundred grand."

His words silence Jeanne, but I can sense her teeth grinding in frustration. I, too, struggle to suppress my anger, resisting the urge to charge at the motherfucker and break his face.

Taking a deep breath, I try to regain composure. "So, 75 will be the final amount of her debt?" I ask, my voice steady.

"Correct, cat boy."

"No more additional charges if we pay right now?"

"Yep."

"After this, she will be free of all debts and obligations?"

The wannabe's face twists into a scowl. "Are you going somewhere with this?" he retorts, suspicion etched across his features.

"Just making sure," I say, slowly extracting the scroll from my pocket and unlocking it. "Bring your scanner or scroll or whatever the fuck you use to collect money."

"Ma'iq, wait!" Jeanne's hand grasps my shoulder. "We can..."

I turn my head, fixing her with a glare. "Jeanne, not now."

My stern gaze prompts her to back off, retracting her hand. I proceed toward the bastard behind the desk, who already has his scroll on his desk.

"My, my, a faunus with money. Who could have thought?" He taps his desk with the other hand, the noise resounding in the room.

Suddenly, my ears twitch, catching the faint sounds of footsteps outside the office. I shoot the asshole a warning glare.

"Do you really want to say no to money?" I immediately summon my claws and point them at his throat. "Then do it, you piece of shit. I fucking dare you so I can gut you like the animal you are."

His eyes turned cold, his gaze flicking to my weapons, then to my eyes.

Fuck him, I even want him to go through his threat. Consequences be dammed. Roman can suck a dick if he fucking dares to throw a tantrum. I have a good fucking excuse.

He clicks his tongue. "Aura, fucking figures." He taps his desk again with the same intensity as before.

As the fading footsteps behind the door signal the retreat of potential trouble, I lower my weapons. Still, I won't dismiss them entirely.

"Fine, fine. Just scan the screen and fuck off." He taps his scroll screen, generating a scan code.

I attempt to proceed with the transaction, only to realize my scroll is missing—probably dropped or dismissed during the standoff. Swiftly, I summon it back to my hand and scan the code, completing the transaction.

My screen flashes, confirming the transfer of 75 thousand lien from my account. The man takes the scroll, checking it and nodding. "Done, debt-free. Now get the fuck out of my turf."

I maintain my silence, never breaking eye contact with the loan shark as I back away from him. Jeanne follows, her hand finding mine as we reach the door. We open it and step out, leaving the bastard's office and defusing the dangerous situation.

However, our exit doesn't go unnoticed. A couple of muscle-headed lackeys block our path, their disdainful stares cutting through the dimly lit hallway. All of them armed with blunt weapons, and a quick scan of the small crowd of assholes, I notice one of them with a gun.

Shit.

They maintain their silent watch as we pass them, making way for our exit without uttering a word or making any sudden moves that could provoke them.

Remaining vigilant, we walk towards the large exit, fully aware that any of them could turn stupid and attempt a cheap shot at any of us. The sooner we escape this shithole, the better.

Each step feels like an eternity, but we finally reach the building's exterior. The metal doors slam shut behind us.

Outside, I release Jeanne's hand, taking a few aimless steps in a random direction until my attention is drawn to an overstuffed trash bin emitting a putrid smell. Killing off my sense of smell, I keep walking towards it.

And Jeanne is calling out to me, but I also ignore her.

"FUUUUUCK!" All that fucking anger finally erupts, and without even thinking, I kick the overstuffed garbage bin. Its contents scatter across the streets, the putrid smell now mingling with my frustration. I wear boots; I don't care if something sticks.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck" I growl through clenched teeth.

A wild stomp follows, mercilessly crushing the bin beneath my boots. I don't care about the scandal I'm causing; I don't care that people are watching.

I DON'T FUCKING CARE!

Most of my hard-earned money is gone, vanished into the hands of those bastards; those human trash wannabe bitches!

IF ONLY, if only those pieces of shit weren't Roman's underlings, I would have broken their faces! Smashed that stupid grin off his face and tore his hair out strand by strand!

"Ma'iq!" A voice barely pierces through.

It's not fucking fair!

"Ma'iq, stop!" Jeanne's plea is more forceful this time, and her hand firmly clamps down on my shoulders, trying to stop me in place.

That is enough for me to gradually relax and finally understand that I'm not alone in this mess. Taking deep breaths, I make a conscious effort to calm down.

"Sorry, you shouldn't have seen that," I admit, clenching my hands until my knuckles turn white. "It's... ugh, those fucking bastards!"

"No, I should be the one saying sorry for that. I... I should have read the contract." Jeanne tries to apologize, dripping with remorse.

I shake my head, dismissing the guilt in her words. "Forget it, really. Better to nip this problem in the bud rather than wait until it gets worse."

"I swear I will pay you back." She quickly says.

"I don't doubt it. Jeanne." I fold my arms and look in the direction of those bastards and sigh."It's just that…"

That was almost all my money, I'm practically broke.

AGAIN!

And I refuse to work extra hours or overtime or whatever it is called just to recover some of that money. Experiencing it once was more than enough for me.

"It's just that they were fucking assholes," I mutter, the bitter taste of my words showing no signs of leaving.

"Yeah." She agrees, looking back into the building with a frown.

I extend my hand down to summon my bike, which materializes soon after in front of us. "Come on, I'll drop you off somewhere safe."

"Okay."

And just like we arrived, we leave this fucked place.

---

The ride continues in quiet contemplation until we arrive at a much better part of the residential district, proven by the clean streets, nicer buildings and the bus stop where people are currently waiting for their next ride. I bring the bike to a stop closer to the bus stop, the engine humming down.

"Here we are." I announce.

Jeanne steps off the bike seat. "Thanks, Ma'iq. And, I truly am sorry."

I shake my head. "Don't worry about it, just focus on surviving these two weeks, don't hesitate to ask me for help if you ever need it!" I force a reassuring smile, even if I really mean to help her if she asks.

Jeanne twirls her hair with her finger, smiling in response. "I will."

Turning away, she heads towards the last remaining seat at the bus stop, joining the other people in the wait for the next bus.

As I watch her depart, I release a sigh, my gaze shifting to the darkening sky. A mix of conflicted emotions making it hard to think. I want to believe it's Jeanne's fault, yet I can't find a reason to blame her. I willingly jumped at the opportunity to help her when I could have chosen otherwise. Even then, it doesn't change the fact that I am now broke.

Fuck that.

I don't want to be poor again. I refuse to even accept the possibility.

Fuck the idea of hard work. I want my money now.

I deserve that money.

But the question is, how?

I tap my head, considering all my possibilities. Stealing might be the quickest way to recoup my losses, but I'm no Roman Torchwick or Neopolitan who are masters in their craft. I need a plan that won't fuck me over.

As I ponder, a perfect idea strikes me.

I don't need to target regular people. I have a place full of unaffiliated bastards ripe for the picking.

My gaze immediately fixates in a specific direction—toward the slums, my new hunting grounds. The criminals there won't be a threat. I will get what I want with interest and everyone will be grateful for getting rid of them.

It's a win-win situation.

They are underpowered thugs, no threat at all.

With the genius idea firmly in mind, I don't think twice. I hit the accelerator, leaving the current scene behind and racing straight towards the slums.

Nothing pulls me back, and I go as fast as I can, deftly avoiding cars, only reducing speed when I need to make a turn or if I detect cops patrolling the streets.

Unsurprisingly, I arrive at the slums checkpoint within minutes, ready to put my plan into action.

Obviously, I don't ride my bike into the heart of the slums. Instead, I find a discreet spot to park and send it back to my pocket space before proceeding on foot towards the entrance. And to the surprises of no one, the place hasn't changed at all.

As I stroll through the ill-maintained streets, I casually push some people aside, blending into the crowd. I begin scanning my surroundings, keenly observing for any signs of gang activity–symbols, groups with similar attire, anything that would give them away.

Given the bustling entrance with crowds and gate guards, it's logical that I wouldn't spot any gangsters immediately. I decide to walk further down the main street until I reach a crossroads. Pausing, I take another careful look around.

To my right, poorly built apartments stand, and to my left, similar looking buildings, albeit painted gray. Making a quick decision, I choose the left path and continue following the straight line.

However, the scenery doesn't change much. The same unappealing buildings, narrow alleys, and stairs surround me. But that doesn't deter me from my search. I keep walking until I reach a random turn to my right, leading me into another part of the slums.

Despite my presence, I only receive curious stares from the few people hanging on the dirty streets. It's unfortunate; I half-hoped someone would attempt something stupid, providing me with the perfect opportunity to turn the tables on them. Perhaps rough them up a little, maybe knock off a tooth or two, all in the pursuit of more rightful compensation.

Or perhaps they've learned not to mess with me.

As I walk through the grimy streets of the slums, boredom begins to set in. The dilapidated buildings offer nothing but a sense of misery, and the monotonous walk fails to spark any interest. And the graffiti on the walls is stupid. It's always a dick or an insult.

A flicker of activity catches my attention. A small group of faunus, their distinctive horns standing tall in the shape of twisted branches, gathers in a corner. Amidst the broken-down environment, they are laughing and chatting with a few scattered bottles around them.

As I draw nearer, a discernible pattern emerges in the way they are dressed, a subtle cohesion that hints at a shared identity and, unmistakably, a part of a gang.

Bingo.

A wry grin plays on my lips as I roll my neck, feeling the adrenaline surge. I quicken my pace towards these oblivious gang members still lost in their chatting. Within moments, I break into a full sprint, charging toward my new tickets for fortune.

They aren't given a chance to react; the second one attempting to look back meets my fist, connecting with his jaw. I utilize my strength to drive him against the floor. Without wasting a second, I plant my left foot, finding the right balance to spin on the new pivot point and deliver a punishing kick to another thug. The blow lands on his stomach, causing him to gasp in pain and fall to his knees, clutching his stomach.

For the final member, who is frantically trying to unsheathe his knife, I seize both his horns and pull him down, making his face meet my knee with a satisfying crunch, crushing his nose. His body crumples to the floor, and he clutches his face, rolling and groaning in pain.

I flex my right shoulder, rolling my arm to loosen it a bit, before shifting my attention to the faunus I kicked in the stomach. He looks at me in shock, failing to utter a word as he struggles to recover.
However, I'm certain he can muster some words.

Maintaining a calm demeanor, I walk towards him and grab him by his collar, forcefully lifting his body. He immediately grabs my wrist, attempting to steady himself and avoid falling from my grip.

His pained expression swiftly transforms into fear as he stares into my eyes, nervously gulping down his nerves. Sensing that mere intimidation might not be enough, I forcefully slam him against the wall, pressing my arm against his throat.

"Your base, or hideout, whatever the hell you bastards call it," I growl, applying more pressure to his throat, causing him to gag reflexively. "Where is it?" I demand.

Desperation fills his eyes as his hands struggle to stop my unyielding arm, but my strength clearly overpowers him. I ease the pressure as soon as I know I've made my point, releasing my hold on him. He crumples to the floor, gasping for air.

With a snap of my fingers, I recapture his attention. He looks at me in fear, still catching his breath. "Th-three blocks…" He enters a short coughing fit, and as soon as he regains composure, he points a trembling hand to my left. "Three blocks, t-that direction."

Considering my options, I weigh the idea of knocking him out and leave him here. Glancing at my surroundings, I realize that I haven't rendered anyone unconscious; they are merely sprawled on the ground, clutching their faces and moaning in pain.

I forgot that knocking people out isn't as straightforward as it sounds and I would even up making a bigger mess, the first time I stepped inside this place.

With that in mind, I decide against it. Instead, I turn around and follow the faunus' directions. Hopefully, this hideout will yield the rewards I'm desperately looking for.

Upon arrival, I find no visible landmark or sign indicating the hideout. However, the place seems oddly familiar, especially that narrow alley with a big door at the end.

Wait…

This is Scar's gang territory!

A malicious grin creeps onto my face as I realize I have unfinished business with that scammer.

And it seems today is my lucky day; because there's no one around except for a lone guard stationed near the building entrance.

Without hesitation, I approach the main entrance, summoning my brass knuckles as I approach the lone guard, my grin turning more vicious. He notices me and grabs a bat, pointing it menacingly in my direction.

His pathetic attempt at a threat doesn't faze me. I provoke him into action, forcing him to charge at me with a direct swing aimed at my head. Such an obvious attack couldn't be more obvious and I effortlessly duck his attack, responding with a powerful uppercut straight to his exposed jaw. I follow it up with a sharp hook to his stomach, sending him rolling on the floor. Once he comes to a stop, he clutches his stomach, groaning in pain.

Extremely easy as expected.

With no more obstacles in my way, I reach the door and deliver a powerful kick, causing it to instantly break against my attack. The chaos inside becomes audible, a reaction probably unexpected for those inside who likely never anticipated someone literally kicking down their door. The pandemonium holds little meaning for me as I confidently make my way through the hallway. Even after months since I was here, the path to that fatso's office remains fresh in my memory.

Unsurprisingly, some idiot attempts to slam a door open against me. I effortlessly kick it back, the sound of a body falling and a cry of pain echoing in response. What a dumbass.

After that, it seems no one is idiotic enough to try the same stunt, granting me free access to the entire hallway.

I eventually arrive at the door adorned with big horns. Without a second thought, I kick it open, breaking the locks and scattering their pieces everywhere.

With my grandiose arrival announced, I calmly enter the office, finding the overweight man with his hands up in the air, perched on his couch. And when he finally realizes who has arrived, his eyes widen, and he gulps audibly and stammers. "I-I didn't expect to see you again. What a p—pleasant surprise."

I walk closer, observing him sweat profusely; clearly, the situation has him on edge. Not like I particularly care.

"Fuck off. I need money. Where are you keeping it?" I move toward the large table, scanning for anything valuable or of importance on top of it.

"We don-"

I break the table with a single punch, silencing him instantly. The unexpected force startles him, causing him to jump onto his couch and tumble to the floor on his ass.

"Think again," I say, eyeing my fist. I didn't expect to actually break the table with a single punch, but it serves its purpose as he lies there, stunned by my display of power.

"You can't do this, dammit!" He protests, getting up from the floor and glaring at me. However, his red face renders him more laughable than menacing.

I release a slow chuckle and approach him with slow steps, causing him to retreat until his back presses against the wall.

I don't stop until I tower over him. "You forget the little detail that I come from Vacuo." I crack my knuckles on each hand, making him cower even lower. "So, where is my money?" I growl.

The last remnants of his spine seem to leave his body as he falls on his backside, clearly scared for his life. He gulps loudly, almost trembling. Yet, he gathers enough courage to extend an arm and point behind me.

Turning around, I notice he's pointing at his large couch.

Without wasting a moment, I kick the couch away, revealing a metallic trapdoor underneath. Fortunately, it has no lock, just a simple slide lock.

Casting one last glance at the now thoroughly intimidated man, ensuring he remains a shivering mess, I approach the not-so-secret trapdoor and kneel to open it.

The hole isn't deep; it's just a small compartment in the floor containing a metal box. Grabbing the box, I open it, revealing numerous papers and seemingly useless documents. I scowl and turn it upside down, letting everything spill onto the floor.

And soon enough I notice tightly packed lien and a couple of wallets falling and bouncing on the floor.

Among the clutter, tightly packed lien and a couple of wallets fall and bounce on the floor. Discarding the box, I quickly collect my money and send it straight to my inventory to see how much that is.

Fucking jackpot!

No more money problems, penny-pinching, or budgeting. I'm finally a millionaire!

Why didn't I do this from the beginning?

Whenever I'm short on money, just take it from these bastards. What can they do or even complain about? They should be grateful I'm leaving them with just a couple of bruises.

Still, the anger bubbles within me for not realizing this sooner. So much bullshit could have been avoided. With my newfound fortune, I can rent a much better place and, hopefully, find a much better landlord, because the current one is still a piece of shit.

With my to-do list complete, I can now focus on getting stronger and increasing my level. But first things first, I need to leave this shithole, head home, and treat myself to a delicious Pepsi because damn, I've really missed that stuff.

My train of thought is abruptly interrupted by the creaking sound of wood. I quickly turn around, only to notice the overweight man attempting to tiptoe his way out. He's halfway there, frozen in place as he realizes I've caught him red-handed.

"I'm not done with you," I smirk, taking note of his well-maintained long hair. This asshole must take good care of it.

"What?!"

Summoning a pair of scissors, I look at him. "I made a promise to myself to shave your head for trying to fucking scam me after all."

In that very moment, panic sets in, and he tries to make a run for it. However, my hand shoots forward, catching his wrist and stopping his escape.

And I will enjoy every second of this.

-Time later-

I crack open another can of Pepsi, the familiar hiss of carbonation escaping, before taking a long sip. The cold, fizzy sensation dances in my mouth, and I let out a long sigh of sheer satisfaction once I'm done with it. And then grab another.

God, I really missed drinking this shit.

And I am glad for unlocking the six-pack option, making that big clusterfuck of a mission even more worth it. I've already bought a couple of them, and I'm already halfway through the second pack. It's not a waste of money; it's a well-deserved reward after so long.

After all, I'm a millionaire now. Burning thousands of liens is nothing to me.

Drinking Pepsi after so long is making me feel unexpectedly happy. I can't quite put my finger on it, but the simple act of sipping it down is bringing me more joy than I felt hours ago. It's almost enough to make me forgive the whole scamming ordeal those loan sharks pulled off.

If it weren't for them, I might never have thought of taking money from bad people.

With plenty of money, I also indulged in some bags of chips. Because why not?

I'm genuinely curious about the taste, so I quickly pop a bag open and take a handful of them, stuffing them into my mouth. I wash it down with another sip of my drink before devouring more chips.

Although, the chips don't taste that different from what I already ate.

However, the chips don't taste significantly different from what I've already eaten. It's disappointing, to say the least; I expected them to be tastier. But looking at the bag again, I notice at least it isn't filled with air like the normal counterparts, so that's a small point for the virtual store chips.

Also, the chips do pair perfectly with my Pepsi, so that's a plus.

I finish the rest of my drink, crush the can, and toss it away, adding to the pile of crushed cans on the streets. I calmly enjoy my meal until my scroll rings, prompting me to stop. I wipe my hands on my pants before grabbing my scroll to check the notification.

As expected, it's a message from Neo. Figures...

I swallow whatever food is still in my mouth before checking her message.

'Had fun wrecking that place all by yourself?'

How does she know what I just did?

'you can ask me next time '

Yeah, that pretty much confirms Neo has learned about my little stunt. Probably one of their lackeys was around the place and spilled the beans. I can't help but wonder if they also know about me paying off Jeanne's debt, not that it makes much of a difference.

'Btw come back, Roman needs you for a quick job.'

'U know the usual, stealing some dust.'

A sigh escapes me in annoyance. I was really hoping I wouldn't get dragged into that kind of job again.

'Be early, I have a big surprise for you'

I stash my scroll back in my pocket and get up from my bike. Neo's surprise has made me rather curious, and I don't think it will be a bad surprise, at least not for me.

Maybe a gift?

I won't figure out Neo's surprise if I keep daydreaming here, so I swiftly store the remaining Pepsi and the last bag of chips in my inventory. I wipe my hands and mouth, ensuring there are no lingering crumbs.

Ready to depart, I hop onto my bike and prepare to kick the gear.

But before I can even make a move, a yellow blur appears out of nowhere, hurtling straight towards me. In an instant, my world transforms into a blinding flash of white, consumed by searing pain that dulls all my senses.

As I manage to crack open an eye, I find myself airborne, separated from my bike by a considerable distance. The realization hits me like a truck, but that's all I can process before pain floods my entire being. Only when my body stops, I clutch my injuries, desperately clenching my teeth to stave off a scream. A gasp escapes me, but my lungs burn, making me regret even attempting to draw in a bit of air.

Fuck….

This is as bad as when Nora smashed my ribs.

's-status'

The impact nearly shattered my aura. A single hit, and I'm left broken.

But who?

Or what?

Forcing myself to push through the pain, I draw in a deep mouthful of air, managing to push my body up and crack open an eye. My vision is still blurry from the searing pain, making it impossible to maintain a straight face.

I fall into a coughing fit and gag, almost vomiting everything I ate just moments ago. Thankfully, as before, my regeneration kicks in, and the pain begins to subside, giving me the space to focus on something other than the agony.

Finally, I open my eyes to assess what happened and who the piece of shit was that attacked me.

I quickly regret it as I recognize the blonde girl standing in front of me—the real owner of the bike, looking extremely pissed.

"Finally found you," she says, hitting her fists together, sparks emanating from her gauntlets. "You damn thief."

Shit…Wait.

Today is my birthday?