"Why donât we split into groups of two?"
The words echoed faintly through the ruined street, bouncing off shattered walls and broken windows.
Isabella slowed her steps and turned toward him, platinum blond hair swaying lightly. Her brows rose with clear curiosity rather than concern.
"Oh?" she said. "Why do you think that? Arenât we doing just fine as it is?"
Jordan hesitated for half a second. His confident posture wavered just enough to look natural.
"I donât mean to be rude, Miss Isabella," he said carefully, a nervous edge slipping into his tone. "But... youâre the only one doing great."
Isabella blinked.
Jordan continued quickly, as if afraid to lose momentum.
"I was trying to bring this up earlier, but youâve been killing all the monsters by yourself. And donât get me wrong, Iâm totally fine with that."
He gestured behind him, his voice turning apologetic.
"But as you can see... my friends hereâMarco, Arlo, Atlasâand Iâm sure even Arthur... they arenât really able to gain any experience like this."
He turned his head toward the three lackeys.
Marco reacted instantly.
"Y-Yeah!" he said, nodding hard. "Weâre really falling behind."
Arlo chimed in just as fast. "Exactly. We came here to fight too."
Atlas crossed his arms, lifting his chin. "Itâs not like weâre weak or anything. We just donât get the chance."
They all nodded in unison, eyes flicking toward Jordan like loyal dogs waiting for praise.
Jordan spread his hands. "See?"
Isabella exhaled softly through her nose, then shifted her gaze toward Arthur.
"What about you, fan boy?" she asked flatly. "You think the same?"
Arthur straightened slightly, his expression earnest and sincere.
"Jordan is absolutely correct," he said without hesitation. "I was thinking the same thing."
He lowered his head a little, his voice humble.
"Miss Isabella is simply too strong. We canât grow if everything ends before we even react."
Isabella stared at him for a long moment.
Then she sighed.
"What was I expecting..." she muttered.
Jordan smiled.
âToo easy to manipulate,â he thought.
Isabella met his gaze again. "Alright then. How do you want to split us up?"
Jordanâs smile widened.
"That partâs easy," he said. "We divide into two teams."
He lifted one finger.
"One team takes on the boss of this dungeon."
Then another.
"The other team goes a different route, fights smaller monsters, gains experience, and gathers whatever loot they can find."
Isabella considered it for a moment.
"Sounds reasonable," she said at last. "As long as I get to fight the boss, it doesnât really matter how we split up."
She shrugged casually.
"I can even go alone if youâre not comfortable."
Jordan reacted instantly.
"I canât allow that," he said firmly. "As a man."
He straightened, his voice filled with practiced sincerity.
"A dungeon gate is full of dangerous and unpredictable things. I canât let you face the boss alone. Miss Mala also put her faith in me, trusting that Iâd support you as someone from the great Blue Magic Tower."
Isabella clicked her tongue.
"Alright... alright."
She glanced toward Arthur dismissively.
"At least the weaklings here wonât slow us down anymore."
Arthurâs mouth twitched.
"Yeah," he replied calmly. "I can also make do without overconfident fools."
Isabellaâs face twitched sharply.
"What did you say?" she snapped. "Weakling?"
Arthur stepped closer, his eyes sharp.
"Do you have bad hearing too? On top of that terrible attitude?"
Before things could escalate further, Jordan stepped between them.
"Alright, thatâs enough," he said, clearly annoyed, though he masked it well. "Letâs stay focused."
Isabella and Arthur both looked away at the same time, muttering under their breaths.
Then Arthur spoke again, turning toward Jordan.
"Actually," he said, "why donât we do it this way?"
Jordan looked at him.
"You and that overconfident girl can go take down the boss."
Isabella bristled.
Arthur continued smoothly.
"Iâll go with Marco, Arlo, and Atlas. Weâll take care of the smaller monsters, gain experience, and gather all the loot we can from this place."
Jordanâs face lit up.
"Thatâs exactly what I was aiming for," he said, barely containing his excitement. "This makes things much easier for me."
He turned to Isabella.
"Are you alright with this, Miss Isabella?"
"As long as I donât have to pamper him," she replied coldly.
Arthur opened his mouth to retort.
"Let it go," Jordan said quietly, stopping him.
Arthur clicked his tongue and turned away.
A twisted smile crept across Jordanâs lips.
âPerfect,â he thought. âNow I can take care of both of them at the same time.â
Jordanâs voice rang out, practically bristling with excitement.
"Alright, itâs decided then."
He clapped his hands together once.
"Me and Miss Isabella will form one team. Arthur, Arlo, Marco, and Atlasâyouâll be the second team."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Jordan turned toward Arthur, his tone suddenly warm and reassuring.
"Arthur, you donât need to worry too much about danger while fighting," he said with a friendly smile. "Marco, Arlo, and Atlas are all very capable hunters. You can learn a lot from them. Just follow everything they say."
Arthur shifted his gaze toward the trio.
Marcoâs lips curled into a polite smile that never reached his eyes.
Arlo nodded, his expression stiff.
Atlas crossed his arms, a lazy grin plastered on his face.
"Donât worry," Marco said. "Weâve got your back, newbie."
Arthur could see it clearly.
The disdain.
The impatience.
The fake courtesy.
Still, he smiled brightly.
"I already feel so safe," Arthur said sincerely. "Thank you so much, guys."
Inside his mind, a familiar presence stirred.
[ Youâre planning something, right? ]
[ Thatâs why youâre letting Jordan out of your sight. ]
Arthur kept his expression calm.
âJust a hunch,â he replied internally. âThat guy definitely got a quest involving Isabella. Thatâs why heâs glued to her side.â
His eyes flicked briefly toward Jordan and Isabella.
âIf everything works out the way Iâm imagining... weâre going to profit a lot from this.â
The system responded after a short pause.
[ Youâre putting her in danger. ]
[ Even though she saved your life. ]
[ You really are evil, arenât you, Host? ]
Arthur scoffed internally.
âHow rude of you,â he replied. âThis was planned. Kind of.â
He continued calmly.
âIâm just trying to gain as much as possible. After all, both of our survival is on the line, so weâd better make the most of it and gain as much as we can from both Jordan and Isabella. Also, Isabella is strong, so I donât need to worry about her.â
A brief hesitation.
âProbably.â
Jordanâs voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Alright," Jordan said. "Letâs split up and move."
Isabella didnât spare Arthur another glance as she turned toward the massive ruined skyscraper aheadâthe one radiating oppressive mana.
Without hesitation, she strode forward.
Jordan followed at her side, confidence oozing from every step.
The two figures quickly disappeared into the shadow of the towering structure where the dungeon boss awaited.
Arthur watched them go.
Then he turned around.
"Alright!" he said cheerfully. "Letâs go hunt some weak monsters!"
Marco snorted.
"Yeah. Weak ones," Atlas echoed.
The four of them headed in the opposite direction, moving deeper into the broken streets and collapsed alleys.
Their footsteps echoed softly against cracked stone.
Unbeknownst to Arthurâ
Marco slowed slightly.
With a subtle flick of his fingers, he slipped a folded piece of paper into Arloâs hand.
Arlo blinked, then casually passed it to Atlas.
The three of them exchanged a quick glance before unfolding it.
The handwriting was neat.
Precise.
Familiar.
Jordanâs.
The message was short.
âKill Arthur.â
Arloâs lips curled into a thin smile.
Atlasâs eyes darkened.
Marco met their gazes and gave a small nod.
Atlas let out a low chuckle.
"Well," he murmured, his voice dripping with menace, "orders are orders. Right?"
Arlo smirked.
"Itâs not like this is our first time killing someone on command. And he will definitely reward us generously for this."
Marcoâs smile widened.
Ahead of them, Arthur kept walking calmly.
His pace never changed.
But his lips curved faintly.
âThey could at least try to tone down their killing intent a little,â he thought. âItâs almost insulting, even for an F-ranker. Well, itâs not like itâs my first time getting insulted.â
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A/N:
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