TravelingDreamer
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B7—Chapter 18: The Pee of Defiance
🕑 Added 2025-09-16 09:17:34 +0000 UTCAfter two days in the city, we'd had enough. It was ugly and boring. I even secretly opened the World Information and read a “spoiler,” but alas, it added nothing. Rabban wrote the newest post from four days ago, discussing the world upgrade and the red zones on our Map. Another three posts from the last twenty years all discussed the nobles, the need for IDs with house affiliation, the high prices, and some mentioned Magitech. Not the knowledge about it, just an explanation of the Magitech level on the Gate, and that the knowledge was heavily guarded.
The newest post, except the one written by Rabban, ranted about the control the nobles had on this world and that everything was arranged in a sort of caste system. Hotels, restaurants, and even shops were for nobles, house affiliates, or common people, and you could use their services only based on your station. We experienced it too, and it was annoying, but I didn’t think it justified three pages of ranting with a lot of curse words.
If you are not born with a noble title or stamped with a prestigious house seal, then congratulations, you are nothing. Trash. Less than the shit on a noble’s boot, lower than a skarn-licking ghoul. You want to rent a room? Too bad, the noble inns will throw you out before you can even step through the door, calling you a gutterspawn. You want a hot meal? Forget it, the restaurants will sneer at you and tell you to eat scraps with the other common rats, like some bog-snouted draggler. Even the shops look you up and down like you’re trying to steal something, and if you don’t have the right mark on your ID, they won’t sell you a single crumb of bread, not even if you begged like a slime-sucking worm. And if you dare to complain, the guards come running faster than flies to a carcass, ready to beat the living hell out of you like a pack of fang-biting thraks for disturbing the order of things.
…
This whole place is a cesspit wrapped in gold trim, run by assholes who think they are gods because they were squeezed out of the right womb. Nobles strut around like peacocks, tossing coins at the ground as if the rest should be grateful to lick them up like dung-eating skavrins. House affiliates suck up to them like dogs begging for scraps, spineless as swamp-spawned molls, and the rest are left choking in the dust. And don’t get me started on the fucking prices. A cup of watered wine costs a day’s wage, and the bastards smile while they rob you blind like blood-leeches fattening on fools. This world is nothing but a prison with velvet curtains, and every noble son of a bitch here deserves to choke on their own arrogance, burn in the pits of Varsh, and rot like corpse-flies in a midden.
It continued like that on and on for three whole pages. Basically, zilch.
During breakfast on the third morning, Al placed his cup down neatly. “I think we should be on our way.” He looked at me. “Unless, of course, you wish to continue healing the Cleaners.”
Mahya shot me a warning look as she toyed with her food. Judging by their eagerness to leave, I had a strong suspicion that both of them had checked the World Info but didn’t want to admit it.
“No, I’m good.” I pushed my plate aside and leaned back. “I wanted to help if we were staying. But if we’re leaving, I’m good with skipping it.”
Mahya set down her fork. “Before we leave, I want to check the local Cleaner office.”
“They have one here?” I asked.
She nodded. “They have one in every city. It’s like the adventurers’ guild.”
I leaned forward on my elbows. “I thought the Eliminators were the adventurers.”
“Yeah, them too.” She tilted her head and gave a little shrug. “They’re the same, only the Eliminators work on a salary from the nobles, and the Cleaners take free jobs, or something like that. I asked around, and the distinction wasn’t that clear in cities.”
“Know where it is?” I asked.
Mahya pulled out the pad we’d bought and tapped the screen.
“Oh, I forgot about this thing.” I leaned closer for a look. “Maybe we can find something interesting with it.”
She shook her head, lips pressed thin. “No. I checked. It only has the grid of the city.”
The office was pretty much on the other side of the city, so we had to take a steamy bus to get there. For a brief second, I thought about using one of the jeeps, but tossed the idea out of my head fast. The nobles here rode in long armored vehicles with balls instead of wheels. Everybody else used buses. Better not to draw attention.
It took a while to get across the city, and by the time we arrived, I was soaked again. My nose wasn’t happy either. The heat and steam inside the bus created a foul-smelling soup of sweat, making the ride its own kind of torture. Poor Rue kept his nose pressed against my belly the whole way, trying to block some of the stink. At least we didn’t have any trouble bringing him along, since he wasn’t the only Familiar on the bus.
In the cleaner’s office, we showed our registration and got permission to access the job board.
Al clasped his hands behind his back and looked at Mahya down his nose. “Why are we inspecting the jobs on offer? Do you wish to work in the city?”
Mahya nudged me with her elbow, a grin spreading across her face. “No. Just curiosity. John infected me.”
“Hey!” I protested.
She laughed and gave my arm a quick pat before turning back to the board.
The jobs were interesting. Most of them were actually cleaning jobs.
Huh. That’s the source of the name?
Besides cleaning, the other major batch of jobs was rat termination in the sewers, with proof being rat tails. I let out a short laugh.
Both of them turned toward me, brows raised.
I pointed at the board. “In most of the LitRPG books I read, the noobs start with rats.”
Mahya snorted and broke into a laugh, clearly getting it.
Al, on the other hand, just frowned at me like he couldn’t quite understand my existence.
I waved him off with a grin. “Never mind.”
But my grin was short-lived. A group walked in carrying a batch of tails tied together with a rope. Each one was over a meter and a half long and more than twenty centimeters thick at the base. I froze and just stared at them.
When the group passed us, I leaned toward the last one. “Are those from rats?”
He gave a single nod.
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. We’d fought plenty of rodents in dungeons; they were common enough. But none of them had ever had a tail that size.
“Nasty.” Mahya wrinkled her nose and took a step back.
I just nodded, still too speechless to answer.
Looking back at the board, I had a newfound appreciation for the Cleaners and their willingness to enter sewers and kill those rats for two silver each. A shiver ran down my spine, and goosebumps prickled across my arms in disgust. In books, the life of an adventurer sounded exciting and glorious. Not so much when you looked at those tails.
Mahya finished satisfying her curiosity, and we left.
“Train station?” Al adjusted his coat and glanced at us.
“Definitely.” I nodded.
“Walk. No bus,” Rue grumbled, wrinkling his nose. “Bus stink.”
We all shared a look and agreed with him without hesitation.
The walk out of the city took us a few hours. It was big, and of course the train station was on the other side.
Along the way, we found a restaurant that served our “station in life.” The waiter barely looked at us as he dropped off plates of grilled meat and sick-looking vegetables. We picked at the food, ate enough to keep going, and moved on.
This world was a big disappointment so far.
A few streets after the restaurant, we passed a large establishment with an even larger sign hanging above its doors, the letters so oversized they seemed to shout at everyone on the street.
Rent a Familiar
Good prices for owners
“What the hell?” I said, staring up at the oversized sign.
“Let’s find out,” Mahya said with a shrug and pushed the door open.
Inside, a young smiling girl greeted us, her eyes immediately locking on Rue. She circled him slowly, tilting her head this way and that as if studying a piece of art. Her hand reached out to pat his side, then his head, then his back again. She lifted his lip and inspected his teeth, all the while mumbling under her breath like she was checking items off a list. After more than two minutes of this odd inspection, she finally turned to us.
“Who is the master?” she asked.
“I am,” I said, lifting a hand, “but I’m not his master. I’m his friend.”
She flicked her fingers like my words didn’t matter. “You can leave it here, but I’m not promising it will be successful. The teeth and size are good, but the white fur is too beautiful. It’s also fluffy and soft, so it might not work. If it can growl, bite, and bark all the time, then maybe. But because of the biting, you’ll need to sign a waiver in case they kill it.”
I blinked. Huh?
She just stood there, smiling politely, waiting for my answer.
Al stepped forward. “What precisely do you do with Familiars?”
Yeah, that was the right question. I was too shocked to think of it myself.
She gave us the famous look that every Traveler knows, the one that says you should already know. “We rent them to nobles and rich affiliates who wish to convince their children to give up the idea of a pet. We rent the Familiars, they misbehave, they make a mess, they give the children one or two small bites, and then the parents bring them back when the children no longer want a pet. It is a very effective system. Of course, you must sign the waiver. Some nobles react very badly to the bites, even if they specifically paid for the service. In those cases, the Familiar might be injured or killed on the spot, and naturally, that is not our fault. The waiver covers it. Sometimes the parents demand compensation for the stress, or insist on keeping the Familiar until the child forgets the incident, or even return it early, but also ask for an extension fee. It all depends on how the parents feel that week. That is why the waiver is absolutely essential.”
Rue growled, lips curling back to show every tooth, his fur bristling along his spine.
She clapped her hands in delight. “Excellent. If it can also bite, it is perfect.”
“Are all of you insane?” I snapped.
Her smile vanished, and she gave me a look like I’d slapped her. “I assure you, sir, that I am in full control of my thinking functions.”
I turned on my heel and walked out, Mahya and Al falling in behind me. Rue lingered just long enough to give her two more growls, then lifted his leg and peed on her, tail wagging like he’d just accomplished the greatest victory of his life. He trotted after us with his head high and smugness flooding our bond, leaving her shrieking and cursing behind us. For such a sweet, smiling face, she had a mouth foul enough to make a sailor blush.
Outside, I stopped on the street and stared at the building, still bewildered. “Do you believe this shit?”
Mahya slipped an arm around my shoulders and reached down with the other to pat Rue. “Good move on the peeing,” she told him.
Rue lifted his chin and strutted a step ahead of us, tail swishing proudly. “Of course. Rue is genius.”
Al let out a sharp laugh, and I joined him, unable to hold it in. Mahya only narrowed her eyes at us, giving Rue the full evil eye.
Comments
Silver Beard
Might be time to stash Rue and friend in his core... and continue solo.
Amelia Gaughan
Genius 😭
