The God-Level Scavenger

Price on Our Heads

Before the mercenary leader could pull his short sword from his belt, Amina stepped forward with a calm, cold smile.

In this outer wasteland where the Elder Council's law held no power, people survived only through raw force or absolute leverage. Amina understood that reality better than anyone. She had grown up watching high-tier guilds buy and sell human lives like farm animals. Instead of panicking at the bounty poster, she evaluated the faction badge on the man's red coat, instantly calculating his position in the market hierarchy.

"Ten thousand coins sound like a fortune to small hunters," Amina said, her clear voice carrying across the narrow dirt street. "Until you realize Tariq's family is currently under active investigation by the Elder Council."

The mercenary leader paused, his hand freezing on the hilt of his weapon. "What are you talking about?"

"Tariq lost his father's master key in the lower vaults an hour ago," she continued, her eyes fixed on his face without a single flicker of doubt. "The council sent a silver executioner to take his head. If you deliver us to Tariq, you are not collecting a reward. You are linking your entire clan to a family marked for total execution by the inner city."

The three mercenaries behind him began to look at each other, their grip loosening on their wooden spear shafts.

"She is lying," one of the men said, stepping up to his leader's shoulder. "Look at her dress. She is just a runaway house servant."

"Look at the blue power chips on the counter," Amina said, pointing to the glowing items I had dropped. "Those are council security chips. How do you think a trash collector from Sector 4 got his hands on high-tier military gear? We killed the silver enforcer in the vault. Do you really want to be next?"

Her ruthless mind worked faster than a trap spring. She spun a thread of truth into a terrifying lie, making us sound like high-level council assassins rather than desperate fugitives.

The market crowd around us grew quiet, slowly backing away from the stall to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

The mercenary leader stared at the glowing blue chips, then at the deep spear wound on my left shoulder. The blood on my coat was fresh, and the gray tint of my Iron Skin was still visible under my skin. He swallowed hard, his arrogant posture shrinking under the weight of her words.

"We do not want trouble with council enforcers," the leader said, stepping back two paces and raising his hands in a fake gesture of peace. "Keep your chips. We are leaving."

"Smart choice," Amina said.

As the four men turned and melted back into the crowded market, I let out a long breath I didn't realize I was holding. My body was still aching from Malakor's backhand hit, and the energy from my extraction skill was burning hot inside my chest.

"That was a dangerous gamble," I said under my breath, looking down at her. "What if he called your bluff?"

"He didn't," she replied, her face returning to its normal quiet focus. "Greedy people are always cowardly when they think they are outmatched. But we have three minutes before he checks with his commanders and realizes the truth. Pick a weapon."

I turned back to the stall owner, whose face had gone completely pale. Without saying another word, he pushed a thick, heavy steel broadsword across the counter, sliding my three blue chips into his pocket.

"Take it and go," the shopkeeper said, his hands shaking. "I do not want red coat blood outside my door."

I grabbed the leather-wrapped hilt of the broadsword. It was heavier than my old dragon scale blade, but with my seventy-six points of strength, it felt light and balanced in my grip. I strapped the scabbard to my back and grabbed Amina's hand.

We moved quickly through the dark back alleys of the iron hut settlement, avoiding the main street torches.

"Where are we heading?" I asked as we turned into a narrow passage between two metal storage sheds.

"To the lower mining shafts," Amina said, her breath coming in fast gasps as she kept up with my pace. "The rogue guilds mine dark core stones down there to trade with the outer cities. The tunnels go under the mountain wall. It is the only place Tariq's men cannot track us with location spells."

We reached the edge of the camp where a massive dark hole gaped in the side of the stone cliff. A rusty iron elevator cage hung over the pit, held up by thick steel cables that disappeared into the dark depth below.

Before we could reach the cage platform, a sudden wave of heat exploded from the alley behind us.

A high-grade fire arrow slammed into the ground two feet in front of my boots, bursting into a bright ring of yellow flames that blocked the path to the elevator.

"You really thought you could fool my scouts with a fake story?" a sharp, familiar voice called out from the dark alleyway.

Tariq stepped out into the light of the fire, wearing a set of black gold-trimmed armor. His left eye was wrapped in fresh bandages from our previous fight in the vault, and his remaining eye burned with pure hatred. Behind him stood eight heavily armed guild elites, their blades already drawn and glowing with offensive magic.

"I spent twenty thousand coins buying your contract from your uncle, Amina," Tariq said, taking a slow step forward as his guards spread out to surround us. "And you gave my vault key to a trash boy."

Amina stepped in front of me, her fingers curling into tight fists. "Your father bought my family's debt to keep us silent about the outer wall barrier code. You got what you deserved."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Tariq said, raising his right hand. A glowing red spell circle formed over his palm. "The Elder Council is already locking down Sector 4. I don't need your memory code alive anymore. I just need your head to show my father I fixed the leak."

He pointed his hand straight at Amina's chest. "Kill the boy. Bring me the girl's corpse."