The morning sun hung low over Timberhollow, casting long shadows across the crooked rooftops. Crows circled lazily overhead, cawing like they knew something the twins didn't.

  Outside the town's southern gate, behind the guild's cluttered storage yard, it loomed.

  The Great Timberhollow Junk Pile.

  A towering mound of bent swords, snapped spears, shredded cloaks, rusted helmets, and cracked potions. It stretched wide and high, like a miniature mountain made entirely of failed adventuring careers.

  The official guild sign staked in the ground read:

  GUILD DISPOSAL ZONE – NO SCAVENGING PERMITTED

  Kai stood with his arms crossed, staring up at it like it was a graveyard.

  "This is what we've come to?" he muttered bitterly.

  Ren, already halfway up the side of the pile, glanced back down with a grin.

  "Welcome to the Discount Dungeon," he declared proudly.

  Kai held up the formal notice they'd found slipped under their door that morning.

  "Notice of Temporary Blacklist – Access to all Guild-sanctioned services revoked until further notice."

  He crumpled it in his fist with a growl. "We're officially banned. You dragged me out here to—what? Pick through other people's trash?"

  Ren hopped down, landing with a puff of dust and snapping his fingers at Bo to start working. The bag gave a low, gurgling whurm in response.

  "Exactly," Ren replied. "Guild rejects dump everything here—gear they can't fix, junk they can't sell, stuff they think's cursed."

  He leaned in, eyes sharp with mischief.

  "Which means it's free."

  Ren set Bo down at the base of the heap and rolled up his sleeves, patting the bag like it was a living vacuum.

  "Alright, buddy," Ren muttered, "let's fill that bottomless pit of yours."

  He grabbed the flap, whispered something under his breath, and watched as Bo yawned wide and sucked in a large mound of rusted chainmail, busted lanterns, and what might've been a cursed duck statue. All of it vanished into the bag with a whoomp.

  Kai stood back, arms crossed, looking like someone had just made him sign up for after-school recycling duty.

  Ren glanced over his shoulder. "Don't just stand there. Go check that side—see if you spot anything that isn't growing moss."

  Kai groaned dramatically but shuffled off toward the left side of the pile.

  As Ren kept feeding Bo scrap after scrap, Kai half-heartedly kicked through busted shields and snapped arrows until something caught his eye sticking out of the dirt.

  A half-melted halberd, its blade warped like it had been left in dragon fire. The shaft was blackened, but the grip was still intact.

  Kai glanced around, making sure no one was watching, then snatched it up.

  He gave it a few experimental swings, complete with overly dramatic sound effects under his breath.

  "Whoosh... shing... ultimate hero move..."

  The halberd wobbled dangerously with every swing.

  Kai planted it in the ground like a war banner, stepping back to admire it.

  "Yeah... I could definitely make this work."

  As Ren kept working, he noticed something strange.

  Every time he thought about something specific—like "old potion vials" or "intact weapon grips"—Bo would rumble softly... and spit out exactly that.

  Sometimes.

  Sometimes too literally.

  He glanced toward the bag and mumbled under his breath, "Old adventurer map would be nice..."

  PLOP.

  Bo coughed up a children's coloring page of a dungeon map, complete with crayon monsters and a smiling stick-figure knight labeled "Sir Chunky."

  Ren groaned. "You're mocking me, aren't you?"

  Bo shuddered like it was trying not to laugh.

  Still, the pattern was clear now. Ren squinted at the heap around him, recognizing the rough sorting zones that the guild's dump crews had clearly given up on maintaining:

  ? Glowloot – Shiny but worthless junk: busted armor plates, dulled crystals, scrap metal polished by accident.

  ? Echo Relics – Leftovers with lingering magic or curses: cracked rune stones, warped relics, items that hummed when you got too close.

  ? Monster Bits – Scales, fangs, glands, bones. Risky, sometimes illegal... but good coin to the right buyer.

  Ren smirked to himself.

  Low-tier merchants.

  Hobby mages.

  Black market runners.

  He rubbed his hands together, already seeing the scheme form in his head.

  "Alright, Bo," he whispered, leaning in, "we're gonna own this market."

  Ren dusted off his hands and stood, glancing toward where Kai was still dramatically swinging the half-melted halberd like he was starring in his own imaginary epic.

  "Alright, Sir Overcompensating," Ren called out as he walked over, "pack it up. We've got a real job."

  Kai planted the halberd like it was a legendary weapon. "What, now you wanna do hero work?"

  Ren crossed his arms. "Field test. First real haul."

  Kai raised an eyebrow. "Explain."

  Ren leaned in, keeping his voice low like they were cooking up the best terrible idea of their lives.

  "I asked Gorin if there were any spots near town—off the guild's radar. He told me about this old roadside ruin. About thirty minutes out, east road."

  Kai tilted his head. "And it's safe?"

  "Safe-ish," Ren corrected. "No major monsters lately, but scavengers say there's still good junk—leftover monster bits, scrap relics, you name it."

  He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward Bo, which wiggled like it was ready.

  "That's where we're going next."

  Kai squinted, half-intrigued, half-skeptical.

  "Let me guess... no pay, no fame, and definitely no swords."

  Ren smirked. "No competition, either."

  Kai let out a breath, glanced once more at the halberd... then shrugged.

  "Fine. Lead the way, Captain Dumpster Diver."

  The brothers started down the narrow back road leading out of Timberhollow, the town shrinking behind them with every step.

  Kai gave one last longing glance over his shoulder at the junk pile—and the crooked, half-melted halberd he'd left sticking up like a sad flag of defeat.

  He sighed dramatically. "I already miss my ultimate weapon."

  Ren didn't slow down. "It was taller than you, Kai. You need something more your size anyway."

  Kai glared. "Rude."

  Ren paused, adjusting Bo on his shoulder.

  "...Actually..." he muttered, "give me a second."

  He set the bag down on a flat stone beside the road, unfastened the flap, and reached inside.

  "Alright, Bo... let's try this again. Sword. One-handed. Not on fire. Not alive."

  Bo gave a lazy hrrmph.

  Ren concentrated, trying to picture the rusted sword they'd picked up earlier in the junk pile.

  PLOP.

  Out came a pair of moldy leather boots.

  "Try again," Ren muttered.

  PLOP.

  A wooden spoon.

  Ren sighed. "Focus."

  WHUMP.

  Finally, Bo coughed up a rusted short sword, worn but intact, with a leather back-sheathe tangled around the hilt.

  Ren stood, tossed it to Kai, who barely caught it.

  Kai stared at it for a moment, testing the weight. It wasn't pretty. The blade was dull, the leather cracked, but it felt right on his back.

  "...You sure Bo doesn't like me?" Kai muttered as he strapped it on.

  Ren shrugged as they started walking again. "Jury's still out."

  Bo let out a smug little gurgle.

  The dirt road stretched ahead, cutting through misty woods and rolling hills. It was actually kind of peaceful... until Kai broke the quiet.

  "...You sure this is a good idea?" Kai muttered, keeping his eyes on the path. "I mean... the guards were pretty upset yesterday. And Bo turning that kid's balloon into a floating deathtrap didn't exactly win us any fans."

  Ren adjusted the bag on his shoulder and let out a slow breath, like he'd already run this mental argument in his head a dozen times.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  "Look... yesterday wasn't our best day," he admitted.

  Kai shot him a sideways look. "Understatement of the century."

  Ren waved him off. "It was a minor setback. And let's be honest—there's no way those bones were actually that old guy's uncle. I'm, like... ninety percent sure the guy was just senile."

  Kai stopped walking, turning to stare at Ren. "...Ninety?"

  Ren gave a little shrug. "Maybe eighty-five."

  Kai groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "We're gonna get arrested."

  Ren smirked without missing a step. "Not if we don't get caught."

  After about twenty-five minutes of trekking through muddy trails and overgrown roadside paths, the trees finally parted—revealing their destination.

  The roadside ruin sat nestled in a shallow dip off the main path, half-buried in ivy and shadow. Cracked stone arches jutted out of the earth like broken ribs. Moss-coated pillars leaned at odd angles, and what was once a wide staircase had collapsed into rubble, now sloping into a half-sunken stone corridor.

  A single crumbling statue—its face long eroded by time—stood watch at the entrance, arms raised like it had once welcomed pilgrims... or warned them away.

  Kai slowed to a stop, taking it in. "It's like someone dropped a mini dungeon into a ditch."

  Ren grinned, stepping forward. "Exactly. No guards. No restrictions. Just dust, debris, and potential resale value."

  He slung Bo off his shoulder and placed it on the ground. "This... is where we get our first real haul."

  Kai raised an eyebrow. "Assuming we don't fall into a cursed hole or wake something up."

  Ren waved a hand dismissively. "Please. I asked Gorin. Place has been cleaned out a dozen times. Nothing serious left."

  He leaned over the bag.

  "Alright, Bo... we need a torch. Just a simple torch."

  PLOP.

  Out came a bundle of wet socks.

  "...Try again."

  PLOP.

  A partially chewed chess piece.

  "...Bo. Focus."

  Bo shuddered slightly... then finally clunked out a lit torch, faintly smoking but perfectly functional.

  Ren held it up triumphantly.

  "Thank you."

  Kai raised an eyebrow. "You ever think maybe it messes with you on purpose?"

  Ren shrugged. "Constantly."

  Ren handed off the torch to Kai without ceremony and started rolling up the sleeves of his already-wrinkled shirt.

  "Alright," Ren said casually, nodding toward the sloping stone corridor ahead, "you go first."

  Kai turned to him slowly, blinking like he'd just heard the most ridiculous thing imaginable.

  "Are you drunk?" Kai hissed.

  "Are you mad?"

  Ren tilted his head like he was the reasonable one here. "Look, you're the only one with a weapon." He pointed to the rusted sword strapped to Kai's back. "All I've got is Bo... and no offense to my emotionally unstable luggage, but I doubt it's gonna body-check a goblin."

  Bo let out a quiet huff like it could if it wanted to.

  Kai frowned. "We don't even know if anything's in there!"

  "Exactly," Ren replied smoothly. "And if something is in there... guess who actually has a blade?"

  Kai threw his hands up. "A rusted butter knife!"

  Ren crossed his arms. "It's still more threatening than me yelling 'please don't eat me.'"

  Kai groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  "...I hate this job already."

  Kai let out a long breath, his grip tightening around the flickering torch.

  "Alright... here goes nothing," he muttered.

  He took the first careful step down the cracked stone slope, boots slipping slightly on the damp moss. The air immediately grew colder, thick with the scent of wet earth and long-forgotten stone.

  Ren followed close behind, one hand resting on Bo like it might suddenly sprout legs and run if he didn't keep it in check.

  "I'm right behind you," Ren assured quietly.

  Kai didn't answer right away. He just kept moving, torchlight casting long, shaky shadows on the cracked walls as they descended deeper into the ruin.

  The corridor curved and opened into a small, collapsed chamber. Broken crates, shattered pottery, and rusted scraps littered the ground. Moss hung like curtains from the ceiling, and water dripped rhythmically from somewhere deeper inside.

  Kai paused at the edge of the chamber, holding the torch higher.

  "...Looks empty," he whispered.

  Ren stepped up beside him, squinting into the gloom.

  "Perfect," Ren whispered back. "Let's see what the Discount Dungeon left behind."

  The brothers began picking their way through the rubble, Kai checking under broken crates while Ren sifted through rusted gear. The only sounds were the crackling of their torch and the distant dripping of water echoing through the ruin.

  Until—

  Thump... thump... thump...

  Out of the shadows, a small creature hopped into view.

  A rabbit—about the size of a house cat—soft white fur, tiny twitching nose, beady red eyes...

  ...and a single, jagged horn sticking out of its forehead.

  Kai immediately lowered the torch, his entire face lighting up.

  "Awwwwwwww!" he whispered like he'd just found a lost puppy. "Ren, look at it! It's adorable!"

  Ren, already backing up a step, narrowed his eyes. "Yeah? So are bees. Leave it alone."

  Kai waved him off, crouching a little. "Bro, it's like... a unicorn bunny. There's no way this thing's dangerous."

  Ren sighed. "That's exactly what someone says before they get impaled by a marshmallow."

  But Kai didn't listen.

  He inched closer, holding out his free hand like he was trying to coax a stray cat.

  "Hey there, little guy..." Kai cooed. "Not gonna hurt ya—"

  CHOMP.

  "OW—WHAT THE—"

  The horned rabbit lunged with shocking speed, latching onto Kai's arm with tiny, dagger-like teeth, its horn barely missing his neck.

  Kai flailed, shouting, "GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!"

  Ren didn't even move at first. He just stood there, arms crossed.

  "...Yeah. Real harmless."

  Kai panicked, flailing his arm wildly as the horned rabbit clung to his sleeve like its life depended on making his miserable.

  "GET OFF! GET OFF! GET OFF!"

  He started smashing his arm against the nearest rock.

  WHAM.

  WHAM.

  WHAM.

  The rabbit held on tighter, its tiny horn nearly nicking his face as it let out a high-pitched, gremlin-like screech.

  Kai spun around, ran to the wall, and started slamming his arm against the stone like he was trying to swat a bug with a battering ram.

  "WHY! WON'T! YOU! DIE?!"

  Ren leaned casually on a broken pillar, watching with a deadpan expression as Kai pinballed around the chamber like a one-man slapstick show.

  "...Should I help you or just let this play out?" Ren muttered to himself.

  Kai whirled around, eyes wide with betrayal.

  "HELP ME, YOU ASS!"

  Kai kept slamming his arm against every solid surface in reach, knocking over broken crates and nearly tripping over his own boots as the horned rabbit refused to let go.

  "Ren! Seriously! DO SOMETHING!"

  Ren finally sighed, standing upright and dusting off his hands.

  "Alright, alright..." he muttered, kneeling down and yanking open Bo's flap.

  "Okay, buddy, I need... I dunno—something to stun a possessed puffball! NOW!"

  PLOP.

  Out came a ladle.

  Ren scowled. "No."

  PLOP.

  A moldy boot.

  "Still no."

  PLOP.

  A jar of pickled onions.

  "...Are you even trying?"

  Bo gave an offended-sounding hrrrrmmph...

  ...and then, with a final fwump, spat out a small leather pouch labeled "Flash Dust – Use Responsibly".

  Ren grabbed it without hesitation.

  Kai was now on the floor, trying to kick the rabbit off with his foot.

  "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!"

  Ren smirked, pulling the pouch open. "A dramatic moment."

  Without warning, Ren tossed the pouch at the ground next to Kai.

  WHOOSH!

  A blinding burst of white dust filled the air, making both of them cough and wave their hands in front of their faces.

  The rabbit finally let go, squeaking in surprise as it hopped frantically away, vanishing into the shadows of the ruin.

  Kai sat there, wheezing and covered in dust, mud, and bruised dignity.

  Ren leaned over, grinning.

  "You're welcome."

  Kai sat up, brushing dust off his arms like he hadn't just been defeated by a magical bunny with a personal vendetta.

  "I had him on the ropes," he muttered defensively, wincing as he poked at the fresh bite mark on his sleeve. "He was this close to giving up. I was tiring him out."

  Ren, already back to digging through debris and feeding Bo, didn't even look up.

  "Sure. Of course. The ol' 'let him maul me until he gets bored' strategy."

  Kai pointed a finger at him. "It's a classic."

  Ren raised an eyebrow. "So's losing."

  Kai flopped back onto a piece of rubble with a groan while Ren reached into Bo again.

  PLOP.

  Out came a chipped mana crystal, still glowing faintly like a dying firefly.

  "Nice," Ren muttered, setting it aside.

  PLOP.

  A shattered goblin mask, its eyes scratched out and teeth still intact.

  "Definitely haunted."

  PLOP.

  A bottle with a wax seal and a handwritten label that read: "Don't Drink Me."

  Ren paused. "Tempting."

  PLOP.

  A magical block of cheese, radiating faint heat and the unmistakable smell of garlic.

  Kai sat up. "Is that... cheese?"

  Ren sniffed it. "Yup. Still warm."

  Kai blinked. "Is it safe?"

  Bo rumbled uncertainly.

  Ren shrugged. "Define 'safe.'"

  Kai leaned forward, eyeing the glowing cheese like it was the last snack on earth.

  "Give it here," he muttered, snatching it from Ren's hand before he could object. "We didn't eat earlier, and honestly? I'm willing to risk it."

  Ren raised an eyebrow. "I mean... it doesn't look cursed."

  He leaned in a little. "But we did find it in a ruin, so, y'know... ten percent chance you explode."

  Kai ignored him, already popping the piece of whole warm cheese into his mouth.

  He chewed slowly, thoughtful.

  "...Huh," he muttered after swallowing. "Not bad. Tastes kinda like—"

  He stopped, blinking.

  Then tried again.

  "—duolg gnihtemos ekil adnik setats."

  Ren's face slowly dropped.

  "...What?"

  Kai frowned, confused. He coughed, cleared his throat, and tried again, slower this time.

  "tahw enoemos ekil gnitats ton m'I—"

  Kai clapped both hands over his mouth.

  Ren immediately leaned back, both hands up. "Oh NO."

  Kai flailed his arms in panic, muffled nonsense spilling out of his mouth backwards.

  Ren rubbed his face. "Okay... New rule: we don't eat glowing ruin cheese."

  Bo let out a muffled hrrk, sounding way too entertained.

  Kai paced in frustrated circles, still clutching his throat like that would somehow fix the magical cheese mishap.

  He finally gave up and grumbled something that—when Ren focused hard enough—he could barely piece together as:

  "krow thgim yllautca nalp ruoy taht dnima t'nod I..."

  Ren blinked, processing the backward word salad before translating aloud.

  "...You don't mind that my plan might actually work?"

  Kai pointed two fingers at him like he'd just solved the world's greatest riddle.

  Ren smirked and leaned against a half-buried statue.

  "See? Told you. It's not about being flashy."

  He crossed his arms, nodding toward the rest of the ruin.

  "It's about surviving long enough to get flashy."

  Kai flopped onto a toppled pillar with a sigh, resting his chin in his hands.

  "tsal lliw gnikaeps sdrawkcab siht gniht gnol woH?"

  Ren groaned. "No clue."

  He pointed at Bo, who wiggled unhelpfully.

  "But I really hope it's not long. Because I am not spending the rest of my life as your personal gibberish translator."

  Kai slowly gave a thumbs-up. Sarcastically.

  Ren stood, brushing his hands off on his pants. "Alright. Let's pack up and head back."

  Kai raised an eyebrow, still trying to clear his throat like that would magically flip his speech back to normal.

  Ren grabbed Bo and started toward the ruined stairway. "Gorin mentioned something last night. Timberhollow's unofficial night bazaar."

  Kai tilted his head, curious.

  Ren glanced back over his shoulder with a grin. "It's behind a dive called The Dusty Mug. Happens after dark—off-the-books trading, weird merchants, sketchy deals. Exactly our kind of crowd."

  Kai mumbled something that sounded like "dnuos skes ym thgir tuo."

  Ren nodded like he actually understood him. "Right? Best shot we've got to move the junk Bo keeps coughing up."

  Ren grabbed bo and slug the bag over his shoulder and Kai followed Ren out of the ruin.

  Later That Evening...

  The sky had deepened to a muddy purple by the time the twins reached The Dusty Mug—a lopsided tavern tucked between two warehouse alleys on the far edge of Timberhollow. Its crooked sign swung lazily in the breeze, lanterns flickering like they were one strong cough away from going out.

  Behind the tavern, the Night Bazaar was already alive.

  Makeshift booths and rugs stretched along the back alley, lit by lanterns and cheap magical glowstones. Cloaked merchants whispered deals to passing buyers. Shady types haggled over lockpicks, scrolls, and questionable potions. Someone was selling mystery meat on sticks. Someone else was trying to offload "cursed socks" to a very confused dwarf.

  Kai and Ren found an open spot near a stack of empty crates and set up their tiny rug display—stacking the chipped mana crystal, shattered goblin mask, suspicious bottle, and even the slightly glowing cheese (now wrapped in cloth).

  Kai sat back on his heels, glancing around at the other booths. Everyone else seemed louder, flashier, or just better.

  He let out a breath and muttered—still backward but understandable if you listened close enough—"skrow siht epoh I."

  Ren looked over, cracking his knuckles with a grin.

  "It will," he said confidently. "We just have to sell one thing... and we're in business."

  Kai leaned back, arms crossed, eyes scanning the crowd.

  "eerga t'nac I, tub llits," he muttered. "gniht tsrif eht teg ot evah ew."

  Ren nodded again, leaning forward on his knees like a hunter waiting for his mark.

  "Alright, Bo," he whispered to the bag, "let's make some coin."

  As the night grew livelier, Bo started shuddering slightly beside Ren.

  PLOP.

  Out came a dented brass goblet with some faint runes along the rim.

  PLOP.

  A bundle of tangled, half-melted iron keys.

  PLOP.

  A shiny but obviously fake gemstone the size of Kai's fist.

  PLOP.

  A small pouch of what smelled like old dried herbs... or feet.

  Mixed in with all of it were some of their better finds from the ruin—the chipped mana crystal, the goblin mask, the "Don't Drink Me" bottle, and the slightly-less-glowing block of cheese.

  Ren squatted down, looking the spread over like he was checking inventory. He gave a slow, approving nod.

  "Not bad," he muttered. "Good enough to start."

  He stood up, cracking his neck, and looked at Kai.

  "Alright," Ren said with a sly grin, "go work your magic. See if you can drum up some buyers."

  Kai gave him a flat look. "laed a em gniog m'I wonk t'nod uoy dna uoy fo gnikam tsuj era uoY."

  Ren smirked and leaned on the nearby crate. "Exactly."

  Kai groaned, standing, already bracing himself for the humiliation.

  Kai cleared his throat—though, at this point, he knew it wouldn't fix anything—and stepped forward, throwing out his arms like a street performer about to announce the arrival of royalty.

  "STNEILC DEETSAERC LL'YEHT—ENIF EREH STI EROMONAC YNA HTIW!" he bellowed, full heroic pose, chest puffed out like he actually knew what he was saying.

  A few passersby slowed, squinting in confusion.

  Ren rubbed his face, fighting back a laugh.

  Still... curiosity was curiosity.

  A small group wandered closer—three rough-looking adventurers and a robed figure carrying a satchel of herbs. They glanced over the spread with varying degrees of skepticism.

  Ren leaned forward with a grin like a cat ready to pounce.

  He picked up the cracked brass goblet, spinning it theatrically in his hands.

  "Behold... the Chalice of Slightly Better Luck," Ren announced smoothly. "Legend says any drink poured into it is two percent more likely to bring good fortune."

  The robed figure actually leaned in slightly, interested.

  Ren didn't stop there.

  He grabbed the shiny, obviously fake gemstone, holding it up to the lamplight.

  "And here... the Heart of the Last Wyrm," he declared. "Said to be a dragon's final tear, solidified into stone. Worthless to the greedy... but priceless to those who believe."

  Kai nodded aggressively behind him, still speaking gibberish with way too much enthusiasm.

  "EHT ELBAULAV TSOHM FO SNEMOTSEG!"

  Ren smirked.

  "Couldn't have said it better myself."

  The crowd started to shift—skepticism giving way to cautious curiosity.

  One of the rough-looking adventurers, a woman with a scar across her chin, tapped her knuckles on the cracked goblet.

  "I'll give you four silver for the luck cup," she offered, clearly humoring the story but not entirely convinced it was anything special.

  Before Ren could reply, the robed figure—probably a hedge mage or alchemist—stepped closer, eyeing the fake gemstone like they'd just found the secret to eternal life.

  "Five silver for the Wyrm's Heart," they murmured.

  Kai, standing behind Ren with wide, hopeful eyes, gave Ren a big thumbs-up—still completely unintelligible.

  Before Ren could close either deal, a drunk man in a stained tunic stumbled up, pushing between the other customers.

  His eyes landed on the cloth-wrapped, still-faintly-glowing cheese.

  He pointed, deadly serious.

  "...That's soul cheese."

  Ren blinked. "Come again?"

  The drunk nodded solemnly. "My gran used to tell stories. Cheese blessed by the spirits. Only glows when it's still... alive."

  Kai leaned toward Ren, mouthing "is that a thing?"

  Ren didn't answer. He just smirked.

  The drunk fumbled with a coin pouch, slamming six silver on the rug.

  "I'll take it."

  Kai nearly choked trying not to laugh.

  Ren nodded slowly, sweeping the coins toward him. "Pleasure doing business."

  Kai and Ren sat crouched behind their rug, counting the small but growing pile of silver coins.

  Kai jabbed a thumb toward the pouch with a grin that Ren didn't need translated.

  They were actually pulling this off.

  Ren nodded in agreement, about to say something when he noticed a group of four rookie adventurers pushing their way through the growing crowd.

  Matching cheap leather gear, oversized weapons they clearly didn't know how to carry, and cocky grins that screamed "first-timers who think they run the place."

  One of them, a tall guy with a chipped spear, sneered as he kicked one of their empty crates.

  "Look at this trash heap," the spear guy laughed.

  "You two really think this is a real merchant's stall? Looks like you robbed a dumpster."

  His friends laughed along, trying way too hard to impress the onlookers.

  Ren sighed, already feeling the headache forming.

  Kai, however, stood up immediately.

  He didn't say anything understandable—still stuck in his backwards word curse—but his body language said plenty.

  Hands on his hips.

  Chin up.

  Glare locked.

  And one foot forward like he was ready to swing first.

  The rookie party leaned in, clearly amused.

  "Aww, is the little vendor gonna throw hands?" one snickered.

  Ren casually stood, not even looking at Kai.

  "Hey, Bo," Ren muttered under his breath, "give me something dramatic."

  Bo gave a mischievous hrrrk and plopped out a small, softly glowing flaming orb, about the size of an apple.

  Ren knelt and gently rolled it onto the ground between them and the rookies.

  The orb pulsed once.

  Then exploded in a loud BOOF! of non-lethal magical confetti...

  ...and a swarm of tiny glowing bees.

  The rookies screamed, flailing as the harmless but aggressive-looking bees chased them, buzzing around their heads in a chaotic storm of color.

  Kai doubled over laughing, barely able to breathe.

  Ren leaned back on his crate, smirking as the crowd chuckled and a few clapped.

  "We'll take that as a no sale," he muttered.

  Later That Night...

  The twins sat cross-legged on their lumpy straw mattresses in their tiny room at the Crooked Tankard. Bo sat between them, looking as smug as a bag could look after a successful day.

  Laid out on the floor between them was their haul—a handful of silver coins and, somehow, one gleaming gold piece they still weren't entirely sure they hadn't been overpaid for.

  It wasn't a fortune.

  But it was theirs.

  More than enough for food, gear repairs, and—best of all—a meal that didn't involve cabbage stew.

  Kai leaned back against the wall, arms behind his head, and let out a long, content sigh.

  "doog leef s'tI," he mumbled, words still frustratingly backwards but the meaning clear all the same.

  "yawa ruO. Di ew yawyna neve ,tsomla doog s'tI."

  Ren, sitting across from him, leaned back on one arm, tossing a silver coin into the air and catching it.

  "Yeah," he agreed, smirking a little. "We're not exactly climbing the ladder."

  He glanced over at Kai.

  "We're building something sideways...

  Not playing by their rules.

  Not waiting for someone to hand us a title."

  He flipped the coin one more time and caught it again.

  "...We're digging our own tunnel."

  Kai nodded slowly, eyes drifting toward the flickering candle on the nightstand, a real grin spreading across his face for the first time all day.

  Bo gave a soft whump like it approved.

  Later That Night...

  The candle on the nightstand burned low, casting flickering shadows across the cramped room. Kai had already passed out, snoring softly with his arms crossed over his chest.

  Ren lay back on his mattress, eyelids growing heavier by the second. Bo sat nearby, unusually quiet... until it started to hum.

  Faint at first. A low, rhythmic vibration—almost like the soft purring of a distant machine.

  Ren stirred, eyes cracking open.

  "...Bo?"

  He sat up, rubbing his face, leaning toward the bag as it shivered slightly.

  Curious—and maybe just a little unnerved—Ren slowly reached for the flap and peeled it back, peering into the swirling, bottomless black inside.

  And that's when he saw it.

  A faint, blue, door-shaped shimmer, way down in the depths of the inventory space.

  It pulsed, like a heartbeat.

  It wasn't there before.

  Ren leaned in closer, holding his breath.

  In the silence...

  He could've sworn he heard something.

  A whisper.

  Or maybe... breathing?

  The shimmer flickered, like a glitch in reality... and then vanished.

  Bo let out a soft sigh—if a bag could sound tired—and casually burped out a dusty, unreadable book that thumped onto Ren's lap.

  Ren stared at it for a long moment.

  "...Okay," he whispered to himself, swallowing hard.

  "That's definitely not normal."

  To be continued...

  Author’s Note

  Good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight.