Three people stood on the road, obviously in contention. Two eyed a third predatorily.


    The third''s attention was on the smaller of the two men.


    [Amonrei Lvl 16]


    [HP: 3940][MP: 260]


    The yer was helmeted. Greaves, scale boots, a pretty nice leather cuirass, and armored battle-gloves.


    To get 8% off Krow''s HP, armored as he was, those battle-gloves had to be at least a D Rare.


    The yer stood in ssic boxer''s stance.


    Fistfighter battless..


    Two closebat types against Krow. One of the two with a movement spell, the other with the system assist and a good weapon.


    The odds were…


    Maybe about even.


    Those weren''t good enough odds.


    Krow calmly changed out his revolver cylinders.


    Surprisingly, the others let him.


    Their loss.


    He kicked it off with a double-jump, hurtling toward the bandit captain. They skidded across the road.


    The yer ran speedily after.


    No movement spell, to Krow''s relief.


    He could focus on one of them for now.


    Kiting the bandit away from the slower yer, a running battle, he shaved off chunk after chunk of the bandit''s HP.


    He flipped around a boulder, nced back as he reloaded.


    The bandit wasn''t following.


    Calling and sending off the spirit-snake, he rested for a moment. The Map updated. Krow cursed.


    The two had managed to rendezvous.


    He drank several Low Heals, replenishing his HP.


    He hadn''t noted any long-range ability in both of them, so without caring for stealth he headed toward the red dots.


    They attacked from the trees.


    Krow retreated but, this time, the bandit captain didn''t follow.


    He''d been seen through.


    Shkav.


    He couldn''t draw the battle out.


    It had been – he checked his clock – slightly over half an hour since he saw the riders on the road.


    That was too long to leave a group he was protecting.


    Fine.


    He pulled out both guns, attacked. The second contained only shieldbursts, but it kept the other yer away. Most of the time.


    His HP was down to 43% when the bandit leader died.


    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 17 bandit captain and gained twelve (12) silver serpens! 4/10]


    The two yers stared at each other, back on the road.


    "The farmers must pay well," the other said. "You wasted so many bullets."


    Krow stayed silent.


    The other snorted. "You should know the pay from towns is bigger, since you have those pauldrons. Rare, right? You didn''t get those here, did you?"


    "Near the capital," Krow answered. He didn''t get them from a quest though. And it wasn''t the pauldrons alone that was Rare.


    Does that mean the guy finished a quest with a Rare weapon as a reward?


    Cool.


    Most yers started finding Rares near Lvl 20 or so.


    Amonrei nodded. "Right? I haven''t heard of any good quests in this area."


    Did he…expect Krow to share?


    "Craft quests."


    Amonrei grimaced. "You take those? They''re a distraction. You…" He looked closer at Krow. "Are you a…role-yer?"


    Technically, they all were.


    But the term ''role-yer'', in general, was the yer who acted as their avatar, a particr character they made up with borate backstories and even specific quirks and mannerisms different from their realworld self.


    Rather than the avatar only being the outward ''casing'' of the yer self.


    The term also expanded to include yers who didn''t conform to the main ''theme'' of a game.


    To the warmasters of this expansion of Rends, at this current time, Krow supposed someone who chose to be crafter would be seen as a ''role-yer''.


    Krow smirked, sudden.


    "I''m a monster hunter."


    It was the first time he''d ever said it out loud in Rends.


    "Uh, sure." The other studied him. "You''re a Lvl 14. Do you know, the XP gap between Lvl 14 and 15, then 15 and 16, isrger by proportion than between other levels? The stats are increased too."


    Krow did know that.


    It was why the amateurpetition in Rakaens only epted contestants under Lvl 15.


    Therger XP gaps and stat bonuses happened every fifteen levels.


    In the forums, they unofficially called them ''tiers''. They were implemented because…


    Huh.


    …actually, Krow had no idea what they did.


    "You are telling me this because?"


    "I actually wanted to leave a long time ago, since the questpletion would give me a poor rating for getting the others dead. But your armor, it''s too good to pass up." He smirked. "I''m a Lvl 16, you understand?"


    "Ah." Of course Krow understood.


    But his reaction to people telling him to justy down and die would always be the same.


    He attacked.


    "So what?" He asked. "So what if your level is higher. Am I supposed stay quiet and let you do whatever you want? A mere Lvl 16? A mere XP gap?"


    He holstered his second gun and drew the smaller of the butcher''s des. He swung. A sh cut through the other''s armor.


    Amonrei stumbled back.


    His eyes were irritated. "Levels are everything. If you don''t know that, you''re a child. So just give me the pauldrons, and we''ll be on our way without you losing one of your lives."


    "Then you would win this fight, wouldn''t you? Just because your level is higher than mine?"


    "That''s what I''m saying."


    Krow nodded. He shot the rest of the cuirass off the other, breaking its Durability enchants.


    "Whoever told you that," he stated. "was an idiot."


    The stats of a Fistfighter were tilted toward DEX and VIT, allowing for light armors. They flitted through battlefields like gnats, stinging. In small groups, they sabotaged formations, and were an all-around headache.


    In a one-on-one fight, even against weapon bearing sses, they were devastating.


    Fast, durable enough to tank in a pinch.


    Above Lvl 15, able to conduct a fight almost like one of those fancy cultivator kung-fu masters in movies.


    Almost.


    If Amonrei had any kind of movement spell, Krow would have lost.


    "This is impossible," the other ground out, dodging one of Krow''s darkspears, but then being herded into another shot by a shieldburst.


    Krow double-jumped away from the other''s fists and feet again, shooting as he retreated.


    [You''ve defeated a Lvl 16 yer and gained one (1) golden drax!]


    [You''ve eliminated 5/10 bandits!]


    He''d actually officially joined the bandit group?


    The other yer''s body faded into a ghost and coalesced into a sh of light that shot upward.


    It would head toward whichever town or vige the other had set as his revival area.


    Revival using the extra lives was instantaneous.


    But travel time was another matter. He won''t be able to return for some time.


    Krow reloaded and headed to where he left the others.