"On the right," Katarina warned. "Pickpocket."

  Simon immediately stepped leftwards, glancing discreetly at an unassuming girl trudging down the streets of Caelryn City. "You're positive?"

  "Yes. Clear as day."

  Not to me. He would've needed to use Identify or Sin Scry to pick thieves out of the crowd, and that wasn't feasible when the crowds were this densely-packed.

  Caelryn City was much larger than Springwater Village, its sprawling pathways filled with people from many different walks of life. You could've fit twenty Springwaters into Caelryn and had room left over to spare. Unlike Springwater, the infrastructure in Caelryn also appeared mostly well-kept; there were few buildings on the verge of collapse.

  It all felt incongruent to the barren wasteland just outside the city's front gates. As if the populace had sensed Valtia's impending ruination and congregated here en masse, building up a last bastion of relief for the coming end times. Whereas Springwater had been a place of decay and decline, scarcely clinging to relevance, Caelryn was...

  Still rotting from inside – but with a shiny coat of fresh paint slapped on top. While the people here were somewhat better-fed, they barely looked any happier, walking with rigid postures and nervous, shifting gazes. Like tightly-wound cords ready to snap at the drop of a hat.

  Simon was accustomed to the hustle and bustle of a big city. Seeing streets full of hurried people on-the-go was nothing new. Even so, Caelryn gave off a distinct vibe compared to what he'd grown up with. It took him a couple minutes of observation to pin down exactly why that was.

  There's no safety nets. On Earth, you could be broke, starving, and at absolute rock-bottom, yet it still might be possible to claw yourself back up. Social programs existed to help those currently incapable of helping themselves. They weren't perfect – those safety nets were often more the illusion of safety than something substantial – but at least they were there.

  Valtia didn't have any of that. It was every man and woman for themself. Food, money, and empathy were all dying resources. If you stumbled at rock bottom, and no friends or family were willing to catch you...

  You weren't getting up again.

  Simon's eyes widened as he watched that unassuming girl from before snatch a coinpurse from someone's waist. The man was skinny and wearing bedraggled clothing, with deep-dark rings of exhaustion under his eyes. He literally couldn't afford to lose that much.

  When the man belatedly noticed that he'd been robbed, he cried out as if the girl had slipped a knife into his heart, chasing after her as they vanished into the crowd. By the time Simon moved to act, both of them were already long gone.

  The transmigrator was the only one who'd bothered to move at all. To everyone else, this was a routine occurrence, mere background noise. They wouldn't have acted even if blood had been drawn.

  "Reminiscence comes in many forms," Katarina muttered, her sharp eyes searching for more potential assailants. "I'd hoped that mine would feel less bitter when I eventually returned to Caelryn. Alas, the city is precisely as I remembered it."

  Simon tried to follow her gaze, then gave up. To replicate her two decades of ingrained experience, he would've needed to Identify multiple people per second, and he simply couldn't read that fast. "Out of curiosity, if you had to choose between living here or Springwater, which would you pick?"

  "Is flinging myself into the nearest ditch an option?"

  He hummed in assent. "Least we saw some green on the way in. That was a refreshing change of pace."

  The land's mana degradation had become less pronounced as Simon and Katarina traveled closer to Caelryn City. Tufts of defiant grass sometimes poked up from beneath dry, arid rock. Patches of green would break up the wasteland like splotches of paint on a gray canvas. More and more, life could be seen fighting back against a vast sea of encroaching entropy.

  And just outside the city proper, the land had even recovered enough to house several farms. Farms! With crops and everything. Simon had been told about it in advance, yet after weeks in Valtia, the sight still managed to make his jaw drop.

  Naturally, those farms weren't nearly sufficient to feed an entire city. The bulk of their produce was grown in specialized greenhouses within Caelryn. For rural villages like Springwater, all of it was – another reason why the loss of their sole Water Artifact had been a death sentence.

  Would be a death sentence, in six months.

  "How much farther?" Simon asked, attempting to distract himself. "I'm interested to meet the lucky person you're recommending to me."

  "Not far, but let's stop for now."

  "Why?"

  "Because you have questions burning your lips, and it'll be easier for me to respond if my attention isn't split between answering you and watching for pickpockets."

  Simon's Inventory allowed them to safely hide their valuables from grabbing hands, but they couldn't let themselves be seen as unaware or oblivious. Even in large cities, rumors spread fast, and nothing was more enticing than a pair of hapless out-of-towners.

  Katarina chose a spot that was relatively secluded – yet not too secluded – and sat with her back to the wall. Streaks of dried blood were visible on the stone. She didn't seem to care.

  "Better," she breathed, relaxing slightly. "Still need to stay alert, but it's easier when we aren't walking."

  Simon sat down next to her. "You make for a good guide."

  "Well, you're 'paying' me in shared Experience. I'd best earn my keep." She aimed a wry stare at him. "So. Caelryn City. As splendid as you envisioned?"

  He looked out at the streets, a dozen societal reforms that he desperately wanted to implement springing to mind. "More or less."

  "I've heard that the merchant and noble districts are much nicer than what you see here. They're nicer in every city, but the contrast is markedly apparent in Caelryn."

  Katarina narrowed her eyes. "Pier Helmund frequents those sectors, after all. Can't have the Duke's own son feeling aghast at the state of things. Perish the thought."

  Stolen story; please report.

  Simon took note of that. "So the nobility doesn't pay attention to what happens in the lower districts?"

  "Not particularly. Just bouts of idle nosiness. Occasionally a bored upstart will come traipsing through – surrounded by their personal guard retinue – as if exploring the lower districts was some sort of grand adventure."

  She grimaced. "If anything, I think they enjoy gazing upon the squalor. Reminds them of how far above they are over the rest of us."

  Simon felt conflicted about that. One one hand, it was a disgusting, repugnant attitude to hold.

  On the other hand, it meant that the people in power wouldn't notice if an unusual number of lower-district criminals went missing.

  Speaking of... "Are you sure we've chosen the right target?"

  Katarina tensed up. "Why? You told me that you needed to kill in order to get stronger. Do you doubt my judgement?"

  The incident with Irving had confirmed that merely 'defeating' someone in combat didn't yield EXP. Apart from a deep sense of satisfaction, punching the man into submission hadn't produced any tangible rewards. Deathless violence wouldn't increase Simon's Level.

  For a transmigrator to grow, the reaper's toll had to be paid.

  Heroic Valor was the only other alternative...and it just wasn't as effective or consistent. Donating supplies to the wounded Springwater soldiers hadn't even been enough to raise Simon to his next Level. The Skill also refused to give him bonus EXP for setting Irving straight, though he could understand why it would be hesitant to reward threats and mutilation.

  A lot of the gods' system feels at odds with what they're trying to accomplish, Simon pondered. The gods of Good wished for him to be a hero that brought salvation to Valtia, yet their system directly incentivized slaughter. Ideally, he would be slaying villainous ne'er-do-well who totally deserved it, but that wasn't guaranteed. Shouldn't the system put more of a focus on performing acts of valor and heroism?

  Two explanations came to mind. The first was that the current version of the system wasn't what the gods of Good had wanted, either. He knew that behind the scenes, they were engaged in a vicious proxy war with Evil, carving out deals as if their words were blades. Any deficiencies in the system could be attributed to concessions made to the opposing gods.

  Otherwise, Voice-In-The-Sky would've just rigged it so that Simon started at Level 1000 and saved Valtia in no time flat. Above all else, they wanted him to win.

  Needed him to win.

  The second explanation was that in this compromised version of the system, a balancing act was necessary. As things stood, Simon's growth would be gradual. That meant confronting a steady pipeline of foes. Through conflict, he would learn to fight in high-pressure scenarios, forging himself into a champion worthy of his title.

  But what if Heroic Valor's bonus EXP had been overtuned? What if Simon didn't have to fight to grow stronger? He could've instituted a Valtian soup kitchen and increased his Levels from charity alone.

  And when the time came to challenge Duke Helmund, the transmigrator would've been wholly unprepared to kill a demigod in ruthless, bloody combat.

  Heroic Valor's bonus EXP was just that – a bonus. It wasn't the main purpose of the system. The gods could nudge him towards being a hero of righteousness, ask him to live with virtue and honor, maybe even say pretty please...

  Yet at the end of the day, he was essentially their hired hitman.

  They're fortunate that I intend to make Valtia a better place regardless, Simon mused. I imagine not every champion holds onto their values when placed into a new world. Especially not a world that – thanks to the system – they could conquer with enough time and effort.

  "I'm not doubting your judgement," Simon answered, turning to face Katarina. "I'm just contemplating my options."

  "Such as?" she protested. "My suggested target is an unrepentant blackguard. I chose him to appeal to your predilections for meting out justice. Killing him will make you and I stronger. What else is there to consider?"

  I have predilections now? "It's murder, Kat. A choice of ultimate finality; one you can't take back. Everything needs to be considered."

  Truth be told, he'd been on the fence about leaving Irving alive. The guard was one bad day away from turning into an irredeemable monster. Simon certainly wouldn't have shed any tears over his death. Could've used the extra EXP, too.

  That last thought had been what stayed the transmigrator's hand. It was a dangerous, corruptive notion. The Experience he might gain should never be a deciding factor in whether he killed someone or not. Ignoring that would be swan-diving straight onto the slippery slope.

  The line had to be drawn somewhere – lest it be written too late in the blood of the undeserving.

  Katarina hesitated before replying. "I am...surprised. You showed no hesitation when executing the slavers."

  "Case in point: slavers. There's bands of them in Caelryn, right? It's a whole wretched industry. I'd rather we target them first."

  "This is the second time you've proposed we go after them."

  Simon shrugged. "They're slavers. Killing them is a civic duty. Like picking trash off the street."

  For a brief moment, Katarina's eyes shone with visions of savage, hateful vengeance. Then she shook her head, letting out a disappointed sigh. "We can't. They watch over one another. The band you slew will be dismissed as a Fell Beast's doing, as they never returned to Caelryn – yet if slavers in the city start turning up dead, it'll raise too many questions."

  "They seriously watch over each other?" Simon asked, a note of disbelief entering his tone.

  "In a manner of speaking. There is fierce competition within their ranks, and no love lost, but slavers also recognize that all good folk despise them. When threats from outside emerge, the varying bands will join together and exact retribution until the danger has passed."

  Simon examined her carefully. "And this argument has nothing to do with you pushing me to knock off your old enemies instead?"