The door of the Clawartha Guild gaped like the maw of a beast. Made of rough wood covered in unclear scratches and suspicious dark brown stains, it creaked horribly as Leo pushed it open.
A pungent stench immediately assaulted him a mix of sour sweat, cheap alcohol, rotting meat, and something sharper like metal or... dried blood. Loud noises came from inside: coarse shouts, forced raucous laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the thud of hard objects.
Leo swallowed, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack his ribs. In his arms, Drake trembled even more violently, his breath short and shallow like a trapped bird. Leo's own body felt weak, unsteady, and hungry. But the image of Grandpa Deri choking on blood and the bottle of sleeping mushrooms in his pocket pushed him inside.
The interior was gloomy. Dirty copper oil lamps hung from the low ceiling, casting a dim yellow light that created dancing shadows on the damp stone walls. Rough wooden tables were crowded with men and women in tattered clothes, their faces hard, scarred, and eyes radiating wariness or brutality. Primitive weapons like rusty axes, spiked clubs, and dull long knives leaned beside them. All eyes instantly fixed on Leo the new arrival, thin, filthy, and clearly foreign-looking compared to the humans in their world. Their gazes were full of appraisal, suspicion, and... a dirty kind of interest, like looking at fresh carrion.
Leo tried to walk upright towards a high table at the end of the room that served as a kind of reception desk. Behind it sat a woman with messy, roughly tied blonde hair, her face like it was carved from coral rock, deep wrinkles and hard lines around her thin lips. A cheap cigarette was clamped between her black-nailed fingers.
"Business?" Her voice was hoarse, blunt. Her eyes swept over Leo and stopped at the small bundle in his arms. No expression.
"I... I want to register," said Leo, trying to keep his voice steady. "Saw the poster... need new members."
The woman's name was Tira, according to a small wooden plaque on the desk, slowly wreathed in cigarette smoke. "What can you do?" she asked curtly, her eyes still stripping Drake bare.
"I..." Leo hesitated. His physique was clearly not the answer. "I have... special skills." His hand unconsciously shielded Drake.
Tira sneered, showing yellow teeth. "Special skills? Pickpocketing? Scamming grannies? Or selling your body?" Her gaze seemed to undress him from head to toe.
A few members at the nearest tables laughed loudly.
Indeed, besides his foreign appearance compared to the humans from this world, Leo looked smaller with fairly well-kept skin. Very different from these people whose bodies were muscular from constantly grappling with a hard life and the cruel law of the jungle.
Leo flushed. "No! I... I can handle creatures." He pointed to Drake. "Like... like this."
All eyes now focused on Drake. The small, limp creature with cracked scales, clearly dying.
"What creature is that?" barked a muscular man with burn scars covering half his face, rising from his table. Other members followed. They approached, forming an intimidating half-circle around Leo. The smell of their alcohol and sweat stabbed Leo's nostrils.
"Cave lizard?" jeered another, a sturdy woman with short, messy hair. "Or a mutated earthworm? Looks like it's about to die."
"Let me see!" The scarred man reached out a big, dirty hand to snatch Drake from Leo's arms.
"No!" Leo screamed, stepping back. Instinct made him shield Drake with his own body. "He's sick! Don't touch!"
"You dare say 'no' here, new kid?" roared the man, his face reddening with anger. His hand now aimed for Leo, not Drake.
"Wait, Borok!" Tira's voice cut through, cold and authoritative. Borok, the scarred man, froze. Tira looked at Leo. "The Clawartha Guild needs people who can fight. At least withstand a punch. Or have something valuable."
Her eyes sharpened as they rested on Drake. "Is that creature... valuable?"
Leo bit his lip. "He... he's special. A dragon."
Raucous laughter exploded throughout the room. "A dragon?!" yelled Borok, doubling over. "That? Looks more like dried dung!"
"Delusional!" snapped the short-haired woman.
Tira didn't laugh. Her eyes narrowed, scanning Drake more carefully. "A dragon? Hmm." She tapped the table with her dirty fingernail.
"Boss Karno likes strange things. But..." She fixed Leo with a sharp stare. "...he also hates liars. If you're lying, you'll become feed for our Beast Pit." Her voice was flat, but the threat was clear. "You sure that's a dragon?"
Leo nodded, though his heart trembled. "Yes."
Tira sighed, smoke curling from her lips. "Fine. Karno is out. For now, we'll test your claim and your combat skills." She pointed at Borok. "Borok. Rank F+. Market thug. Test the new kid. Let's see if his 'dragon' can help him, or if he's just weak trash."
Borok grinned widely, his massive fists clenching. "With pleasure, Tira." He stepped forward, the oppressive aura of his Rank F+ strength pressing down on Leo like a wall. The other members stepped back, forming a crude arena, their faces full of sadistic anticipation.
Leo felt his blood freeze. Borok was twice his size, muscular, and full of hatred. Leo himself was weak, starving, and only had a broken short sword he hadn't even drawn yet. And Drake... Drake could only tremble in fear in his arms.
"Put your 'dragon' down, or carry it, whatever," Borok growled, swinging his arms like clubs. "I'll crush your bones slowly!"
Leo looked at Drake. The creature's half-open eyes radiated deep fear and exhaustion. Leo felt a wave of despair through their bond. Can't do it, Leo's mind whispered. He's too weak.
But then, like a reflex, his gaze caught a faint blue window in front of his eyes. The System![Status Scan (Passive) Activated!]
[Target: Borok (Human - Rank F+)]
[Weaknesses: Poor balance on left leg (old injury), Slowed reflexes when angry, Very easily disgusted.]
Easily disgusted! Leo's mind raced. His memory flashed back to the incident in the alley with the short thug. Drake's Moist Touch making the thug disgusted and startled.
"Drake," Leo whispered desperately, pulling the small dragon closer. "Now! Touch him! As hard as you can!"
Drake, sensing his master's mortal fear, gathered the last remnants of his strength. His cold body tensed. With a slow, painful movement, he stretched out his small, cracked neck. Not to bite, but to... lick.
Borok, advancing with heavy steps, saw the creature's ridiculous movement. "What? Want to kiss my hand, filthy beast?!" he jeered,
raising his fist.
As the fist was about to strike, Drake's short, cold tail touched the rough skin of Borok's outstretched wrist.
Moist Touch (F-Rank) - Maximum Intensity!
The sensation was immediate and intense. An unnatural cold, damp like the slime of a wet carcass, and the rough yet slippery texture of cracked scales spread from the point of contact. Added to this was the faint fishy odor emanating from Drake's sick body.
"AAAGH! DISGUSTING!" Borok screamed, not from pain, but from deep, sudden revulsion. Like touching a wet rat corpse mixed with sewage sludge. Reflexively, he jerked the touched hand away violently, his face contorted in disgust and shock. "Filthy beast! So gross!"
The jerk disrupted his balance. His left leg, weakened from an old injury, slipped on the wooden floor made slick by spilled drinks. "WHOA—!" Borok staggered backward, arms flailing. He landed flat on his back with a loud THUD!, his head hitting the floor. He lay still for a moment, dazed.
The room fell silent. All eyes widened. The earlier laughter turned to murmurs of amazement mixed with bewilderment. Tira raised one eyebrow, her gaze now more interested in Drake.
Leo stood stunned, breath ragged. He won? Without fighting? Just with... disgust?
Borok groaned, trying to get up, his face crimson with shame and anger. "Damn... damn sneak! I'm not done!" He tried to stand.
"Enough, Borok!" Tira's voice cut him off, firm. "You lost. To your own stupidity." She turned to Leo. "Amusing. And... somewhat useful. Disgust can be a weapon in dark places." Her eyes focused on Drake, who slumped limply back into Leo's arms. "Strange creature. Boss Karno might be interested." She picked up a piece of rough paper and a wooden stamp. "For now, you're accepted. Rank F. Base pay. Do the dirtiest jobs first. First task: Clean the Beast Pit tomorrow morning. The dung's
knee-high."
Leo nodded, relief mixed with burning humiliation in his chest. Cleaning monster dung? But it was a way in. "But... medicine..." he whispered. "I need medicine. Now. For... for him." He lifted Drake slightly. "And for an old man outside. Critically ill."
Tira gave a short, cynical laugh. "Medicine? In Clawartha, everything must be paid for, boy." She pointed towards Borok, who was just getting up, still wiping his wrist with disgust, his eyes burning with hatred for Leo. "See him? He holds a grudge now. You have two choices: Do shit work for a month to buy cheap medicine. Or..."
She leaned forward, her thin smile terrifying. "...we give you a high-paying job right now. But it's risky. Very."
"What... what's the job?" asked Leo, his heart pounding.
Tira stared at him sharply, her voice a deadly whisper. "Kill an herbalist's guard at the Apotek Pinggiran. He has a rare medicine Karno wants. You take the medicine, hand it over to us. You can take a little for yourself and the old man... and we'll forget the debt for your filthy dragon's medicine. Easy, right?"
Leo froze. His blood seemed to turn to ice. Kill. The word echoed in his head. In his original world, it was an absolute taboo. But here... in Grandpa Deri's dying shack, with Drake barely breathing in his hands, and the promise of medicine...
The shadow of Karno, the boss, and the terrifying Beast Pit, along with Borok's hateful glare, wrestled with his screaming conscience. Tira watched him, waiting, her thin smile like a cold knife in the darkness of the Earth Claw's den. The choice hung there, heavier than a tombstone, in the stifling air thick with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and blood.