Richard was in luck, as after a few minutes of looking around and asking questions he found a cart. The worst part was that they were stored in a small room next to the crafting rooms. So he had walked by it several times while looking for them. He probably looked like an idiot.

  He piled the cart high with the boxes of potions that he had created and then made his way to the Buyers room. It was deeper inside of the guild side of things. And it felt like a library with how quiet it was. There were 3 reception desks with several other desks behind them. People were walking through or had their heads bent together. While only one of the reception desks had someone working behind it. Richard felt that he was lucky as there were only two people already in line.

  “Hello, I am here to deliver an order that I received from the guild,” Richard said when his turn came. The person behind the desk was an older man with salt and pepper in his hair and a name tag that read Grant.

  “Can you scan your membership ID please?” Grant asked.

  He waited for Richard to stumble around the app to find the ID function. And once it was scanned Grant quickly found the order. Then he walked around the desk and started counting the potions. “There seems to be two sets of these mana potions? Also vitality ones?”

  “Ah?” Richard looked at where Grant was pointing. “Can’t you see the difference? The blue ones should have a System ID with a plus symbol right?”

  Grant looked at the potions again. Picked up one in each hand and shook his head. “I do see that the vial colors are different. But both this one,” he held a black vial in his left hand, “and this one,” and a blue vial in his right hand, “both come out as Weak Mana Potion to me.”

  “Huh,” Richard said. He knew that they were different. Well, the creation method was different. Was it possible that the plus symbol didn’t appear for others? “Is it going to be a problem?”

  “No. Well. Probably not. There was also a note that the guild would be willing to buy anything else that you are able to make. So I’ll just put it under that instead.”

  “Great. And in that case I also had a couple other items that I wanted to sell.” He removed the Cure Disease, Clear Mind, and Purifying Soul Potions from his satchel and placed them onto the counter along with the Cabbit Teeth Bone Meal.

  “Alright, let me process these first and then I’ll look at anything else you have.”

  The grand total for the 45 potions came out to $907,500 gross, less the $328,700 expenses of the materials he had bought Richard had made a cool $578,800. At least it would have been.

  While he was buying the materials Richard ran into a problem. He only had around $181,000 when he walked in the doors. And in order to get everything that required he needed to take a loan from the guild. It wasn’t too hard though, all he needed to do was to show them the order number and he was able to borrow against it. He was still out of money, and in $159k of debt, for a short period of time. Which somewhat put a damper on the excitement of the windfall he had just received.

  It was still more money than Richard had ever dealt with in a single transaction. Grant didn't seem to blink an eye at the number. Either that was because he had a good poker face, or that it wasn’t his first time. Or that he had processed orders for even higher amounts.

  Grant excused himself for a moment and rolled the cart into the back. “Sorry for the wait,” he said when he returned. “Now let's see what else you have.” He looked to the potions and jar that Richard had already laid out.

  “Hrm,” Grant said after touching each of the items. He typed away at the keyboard and frowned. “We have a price for the Cure Disease Potion, $35k. But not one for the Clear Mind, Purifying Soul or bone meal items. If you are okay with it, I’ll take them from you now. And once they are apprised we’ll be able to give you a price on them. How does that sound?”

  “Why would the guild not have prices on the others? And I’m fine with that by the way.”

  “Usually it’s one of two things. They have either never appeared before. Or they have no value to anyone and there is no demand. Of the two, I’m not sure that I can guess which it would be for your items. Hence the need for an appraisal.”

  Richard looked at the potions and jar. Is it possible that he was the first person to have made the items? He wanted to say no. But given that how high ranked his alchemy was there was no way he could be sure. And if they never dropped in the dungeon did that mean that he was able to make completely new and never before seen items? There was a brief moment where he considered taking them back, dumping the potions, and scattering the bone meal. But if just one person could be helped by the potions, then wouldn't it be worthwhile giving them a chance. Instead of hiding himself even deeper?

  If he wanted to continue making potions then Richard needed power. Something that he never felt the need for before. Something that he might not be able to gain without the aid of others. Solo exploring wasn’t worth the risk, as that bleeding out in the dungeon was just as bad as an end as being enslaved by a red guild.

  “That’s fine. How long will the appraisal take?”

  “Should only be a few days. I know that they are pretty quick since people tend to gush over new items. A message will be sent once a decision has been made.”

  “Sounds good,” Richard said and thanked Grant for his help. If he was going to get stronger then he needed people that he could trust.

  ****

  Calvin drummed his fingers against the desk in front of him. He had been in a bad mood ever since his attack group had gotten captured. Even the mole he had placed in the Dungeon Center got nabbed. From the informants he had placed higher up in the Government Dungeon Response they weren’t able to tell where they ended up even. So it wasn't like he could cover up any loose lips.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  He needed to make a choice.

  Did those louts have enough loyalty to the guild to not squeal? No. Could he take care of them before they talked? No. Did they know the current location of the guild? No. Not many did, and only living people who knew about the guild building were working there. It would be the end of Calvin and most of his family had it got out that he was working for a red guild. And not from the law, but rather those that want to remain in the darkness.

  First off he started a plan to move all of the resources in the current guild location. Even if there were no leads pointing towards them it would be better for nothing to be left to chance. Second he needed to pack his family up and move them into a safe house. Probably in some off grid commune or something without contact with the outside. Anything else was too risky. And while they would bitch, it would be enough to keep them alive.

  Calvin flipped open his laptop and started typing out the orders to move. They had several locations scoped out already, but they weren’t as nice as the current one. Not enough basement space. His fingers paused as a low rumble was felt more than heard.

  Was it a break? He had seen to it that his people kept clearing the nearest dungeons. When the building shook again he stood in alarm. If it wasn’t a break, then it was a raid. How had they found them already?

  He turned to the sword mounted on the wall behind his desk. Something that the guild master had given him. Both to award him, but also to see what would take his life should he fail. They would need to take care of the attacks quickly, before-

  Any hope Calvin had of escaping was lost when he looked out of the window. The entire Sword Soul guild must have been waiting out there. Everything that he had built up was going to be torn down. At the very least he might be able to get away through the underground passageways. He smashed his laptop and made for the stairs.

  ***

  Ray didn’t know much about dungeons. What he knew about was growing food, and it was something that had been doing all of his life. A job that he took over from his Father. He didn’t know much about his Grandfather, except that he went missing during the breaks. But Ray figured that his Da took over from his Father like he did.

  He stood at the edge of his small plot and wondered how things would have been before. When there weren’t monsters roaming around outside. And it was possible to have acres upon acres of farmland. The 2 acres he had was enough to feed his family and sell the excess. Real food sold for far higher than the processed crap those in the city pretended was good for them.

  It was with a side eye that Ray looked at the jar given to him by the Crafter’s Union. Sure he was a member. Growing food was a type of crafting right? They said that it was bone meal, created from drops from the dungeon. Not something that he really wanted anywhere near his crops. But he had been given a guarantee. If it had had negative effects the guild would cover the costs of the entire field. The years were getting harder, and without anyone to pass his work onto a break sure would be nice. The kids didn’t know what value in being a farmer. All about the dungeons, this and that.

  With a sigh Ray picked up the jar. He needed to test how it worked, and not just sprinkle it here or there. After tearing out a small patch of microgreens, something quick to replace, he tested several ways of applying the bone meal. Sprinkling it just on top, mixing it in with the soil, piling the soil on top of it, and so on. As for what to try planting… Probably a bit of everything.

  Three sisters worked well together, so he planted some corn, beans, and squash. Kale was in, so might as well toss some of those seeds. What else? Carrots sure. Probably best to keep it simple. And so he did.

  It only took three days before Ray called the Crafter’s Union. Telling them they needed to send someone out to have a look. As that there was no way that they were going to believe him about what happened to his field.

  ***

  The kitchen table was scattered with books and empty home brew bottles. Cleaning felt like more trouble than it was worth. And yet Richard knew that it needed to be done. Only he was busy, doing nothing. But trying. Trying took time and effort. Something successful people never seemed to realize.

  Richard wasted more days than he would have liked trying to find a group to party with. There were several conversations going on in the Crafter’s Union’s communication app. But they all seemed to know one another already, and the parties would quickly fill up.

  It reminded him of when he was trying to find a mmo guild back in his 20s. Other people seemed to connect so much faster than him online. Though if it was in person it might not go any better. The world had gone into a strange place after social media took over in the 2020s.

  Finally he took the plunge and just posted that he was a new crafter, looking to level up on a deeper floor, while collecting drops. There was a chorus of welcomes, but not really any interest in partying with him otherwise.

  It was like that fear of inviting people to come to a birthday only for no one to show up. If it was possible to solo the dungeons Richard would have just done so. Finally at his wits end he tried a tested and true method for getting something done. Making someone else do it.

  “Enigma. Come help explore dungeons,” Richard said in a message. The two of them had met online years before while they were both playing mmos. Enigma was still playing from how it sounded. And while Richard wished that he still had the interest, it was hard to get excited over them anymore. Maybe if he could go back to how he felt when he first started playing. When the dopamine was fresh and fluid. When everything was new.

  Richard stood to do something else, leaving his phone face down on the table. Maybe there would be a message or two of someone else trying to find a party. Was it because he was only level 3 that people didn't want to bother with him? Was it because he was a stranger? Or did the great loneliness of the 2040s still lingered in some fashion in peoples collective memory?

  After 20 minutes the kitchen was cleaner than it was. He had gone through the beers that were fermenting and didn’t find anything that needed to be done. There weren't any new books he wanted to read. And he was letting his favorite webnovels cook a little more before he binged them.

  Richard found himself looking at his status and wondering what else was there. Grinding in the dungeons could be something to do. But he didn’t really need any drops at the moment. Though if he was going to party with others it would be good to have some healing potions. So that was something to keep in mind.

  With a goal in place he picked his phone off of the table and found a few messages. A direct message from someone in the Union looking to hit up the second floor of the Mushroom Dungeon. Just reading the message was enough for Richard to groan. The drops were terrible and it was a waste of time. But it was a step forward. Both towards leveling and trying to trust a stranger.

  The second message was from Enigma. “Yo! Lol, okay. It’s probably better than you going by yourself and ending up in the basement this time. Try not to aura farm so much, yeah?”

  Richard blinked and read the message again. They had never met up in person, he didn't even know where Enigma lived, or anything else about them. They really took the anonymity of the internet to heart. Even going so far as using a voice synthesizer for chat.

  “Telling you about that was a mistake. When did you want to go? Someone from the union wants to try the crappy Mushroom Dungeon…”

  “I’m good whenever. Give me a time and I’ll be there. Might as well join the Crafter’s Union as well. That way it will be a guild run. Give me a minute.”

  Richard felt a big sigh coming on and he let it happen. It wasn’t a sad sigh. Maybe he needed to be around others more than he realized. He tossed his phone into his pocket, hopped on a bus, and made his way downtown. Time to farm some drops at the Slime Dungeon.