Outside Kudan.

0640 Hours, July 31st 3039.

"And, who the fuck are you supposed to be? Some kind of good Samaritan?" Gunroy snorted, half in anger and half in disgust. Not only had this unknown man spoiled his fun, but the idiot was clearly a low-level scrub. Did the scrub not realize Gunroy could destroy him with a stray fart? The mercenary's eyes suddenly brightened as he came up with a good way to teach the brat a lesson. "Hey, scrub. Bark one more time and call me daddy, and I'll give these dogs their treat."

Some onlookers chuckled and shook their heads. How cruel. There was clearly no way Dayle would agree to that kind of demand. No true man would—

"Woof! Papa, Daddy, Father, Godfather, All mighty lord of the cosmos." Dayle recited in a monotone voice. His expression remained, without the slightest trace of embarrassment. "Is that enough? Would you also like me to lick your boots?" Dayle's lips inched upward in a cold smile. "Or are you a man of your word?" He glanced at the mercenaries looking for a good show as he spoke.

"Urk! You—" Gunroy stared at the youth in shock. What kind of man would easily call another his father? Did this kid have no pride? No, more importantly, Gunroy realized that with all the onlookers, he had no choice but to honor the agreement, or he would forever be branded as a flaker. With a snort, he tossed the card at Dayle. "Here! You earned it, dog."

Dayle caught the card with a self-satisfied grin. "Thanks, master. I'll make sure I repay you with interest."

Coming from anyone else, this would have sounded innocent, but Gunroy picked up on Dayle's threat. The mercenary's eyes narrowed, but he did not dare stir the pot in public. Instead, he copied Dayle's approach. "Don't worry about it, er—"

Dayle knew Gunroy's intentions, but still happily revealed, "Dayle. Dayle Butcher of FireRain. And you are?"

"Gunroy of Peacemakers." Gunroy gave Dayle a once-over then warned in a low voice. "Watch your back on this mission, Dayle. The Nexus are a crafty bunch. If you're not careful, you won't even know how you died."

"Thanks for the warning." Dayle chuckled and then said with a shrug, "But I'm low-level and poor. I quite literally have nothing to lose. I'm only here for the fun experience." The young man's eyes took on a harsh twinkle as he returned Gunroy's once-over. "You on the other hand... I would advise caution. That gear looks real expensive."

If Gunroy could not sense the threat in Dayle's tone, he might as well have considered his entire life wasted. However, that threat fell flat when he looked at Dayle's team's equipment. He recognized those starter gear anywhere. These fools hadn't even upgraded their gear, yet they dared to cross his path.

"Waste of time." Gunroy realized their was absolutely no profit in entangling himself with these bottom-feeders. Like Dayle said, FireRain was too poor (in appearance) for their losses to mean anything. In the end, Gunroy would just expend needless effort. "Watch your back." With those words, Gunroy turned and walked away to join his fireteam—but not before casting Dayle a scathing glare.

Dayle ignored the merc and instead turned to face the children, who were looking at him with equal parts apprehension and excitement. On the one hand, they were excited that someone seemingly fought for them, but on the other, they were scared that Dayle would take the card for themselves. "Well, someone has trust issues," teased Dayle as he crouched in front of the children. He raised the bank card, and then asked, "Who's the leader of you punks?"

The children collectively looked at a boy, who, at first glance, seemingly had no business being the group's leader. The child, a blue-skinned radi, was the smallest of the group, and looked to be about 8-9, but, considering how severely malnourished the children were, he could have been much older. His sky-blue eyes, however, were strong and seemed wise beyond his years.

Dayle smiled. He liked the kid's eyes. Those were the eyes of someone who was not resigned to their current fate. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Grim."

"Grim?"

"Grim." The child, as if to emphasize his point, flashed a grim smile. "It's what they call me."

Dayle instantly understood, but he had to make sure. "Your parents?"

"Have none."

"I see." Dayle looked at the empty-eyed children. He guessed that most of the other children were the same. Their parents either died or abandoned them. It was hard enough feeding one mouth on the outlands. Feeding more was a burden many parents in the outlands were unable to bear.

Dayle did not say anything about the children's situation. These kinds of survivors were not interested in empty platitudes. As a result, Dayle waved the bank card and then said, "How are you planning on using this? I'm guessing you don't have bank accounts."

Grim frowned. "How's that your business?"

"You're right. It ain't." Dayle then said with a challenging grin, "But I'm making it mine. What are you gonna do? Cry about it?"

"You tryna make fun of us?"

"Not interested in making fun of brats." Dayle snorted, and then waved the card. "I just wanna know how you use this. I barked for you guys. Want to make sure my investment isn't wasted, you know?"

Grim hesitated, but then something about Dayle's eyes caused him to relax his guard a bit. "There's a fence. He'll trade us some cash for the bank card."

"A fence?" Raines' tone contained doubt. "What's the percentage split? This is a 1000 credits bank card. Realistically, how much do you guys expect to get from this?"

Grim looked at Raines. Because of her helmet, Grim could not read her expression. However, Raines' question suggested she cared about the children's plight. Very few people noticed the 'fence' problem without being prompted.

"About two hundred," answered Grim. "Old Farrow's one of the nicer fences. Most would give us fifty."

'Two Hundred?' Dayle frowned. Two hundred credits over twenty children. That was bout 10 credits per child. Even with the most frugal spending, that would last them a few days at most.

Dayle glanced at the intrigued mercenaries. After his altercation with Gunroy, it was too late to worry about going under the radar. So, he threw caution to the wind and asked, "Hey, anyone got cash?"

Unsurprisingly, no one replied. In fact, most wore faces filled with ridicule. They could not wait to watch Dayle make a fool out of himself. However, just when it seemed like Dayle would have to give up, a voice called out.

"Hey, I've only got 500. Will that do?"

Dayle looked to his right to see an Asian woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, with a warm smile that could melt the sun. She had on shiny red armor that complimented her orange hair and eyes. "Five hundred's plenty, miss?"

"You can call me Queen." At Dayle's raised brow, Queen let out an embarrassed laugh and then explained, "Can't help it. It's the name I was born with."

"And obviously, you grew to fulfill your parent's vision." Dayle wore a dazzling smile as he stood up and approached Queen. He gently cradled her hands and then said, "I humbly accept my Queen's graciousness."

Pa!

Behind Dayle, Arthur facepalmed his helmet. 'Ugh. It is not the same.' For the first time, Arthur began to despise this helmet. He could see why the higher levels opted for open helmets.

"Ha—Stop playing. I'm no one's queen," Queen gently rebuffed as she removed her hands from Dayle's. She then retrieved 500 credits in 20 credit bank notes, and then handed them to Dayle. "I keep a reserve of cash credits in case of emergencies." She glanced at the children and then said, "I think this counts as one, don't you think?"

Dayle accepted the notes with a wide smile. "It does in my book." He looked at the notes and then at Queen. "I'll keep this favor in mind," he said with a smile and then handed her the bank card.

Queen took the card and tapped it against her gauntlet. She confirmed an influx of 500 credits into her account and then returned the card. "Now, we're even."

Dayle chuckled as he pocketed the card. "On the contrary, my Queen, I still very much owe you one. Perhaps, I can repay you over dinner, sometime?"

"I only have dinner with strong men." Queen revealed a sultry smile, then waved and walked away, leaving a stunned Dayle behind.

Dayle chuckled, evidently not taking the jab to heart. He then turned to face Grim. "Alright, kid. Here's 500 credits in cash." He handed the bank notes to the child, and then waved the card. "If you can trust me, I'll hold onto this until I can exchange it for some cash. That alright with you?"

Grim stared at the small bundle in his hands. He had never seen this amount of credits in person, let alone held it. His mouth opened wide as he looked up at Dayle. "W-why?" He could not understand why this man would give him this much?

Dayle shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Consider it a handsome guy's selfishness." Dayle looked at the other kids. Excitement shone in their eyes, but he knew this was only temporary. Once they exhausted the funds, the children would be back to square one. It would have been one thing if he never interfered, but now that he had, he could not leave things half-assed like this. Lost in thought, he muttered under his breath, "Teach a man to fish and all that..."

"What?"

"No, it's nothing." Dayle looked at Grim. If he wanted to help, there were a few things Dayle needed to know first. "More importantly, tell me. What's this town's major source of income?"

Previously, Grim would have hesitated, but now he eagerly answered, "We're scavengers."

"Scavengers." Dayle frowned. From what he knew, there were four major kinds of outlanders: Mining, Scavengers, Hunters, and Bandits. Scavengers usually went into the forests to pick up plants, monster carcasses or cores for city folk to buy. They also searched for tech and equipment left behind by mercenary groups to sell as salvage. Hunter settlements specialized in hunting beasts for their cores or organs. Some hunter settlements also specialized in hunting Nexus bots. Bandit settlements were obviously a collection of marauders and thieves who attacked mercenaries and other travelers for their money and technology. Finally, mining settlements dug up ores from the earth's bowels, which would later be sold to the major cities.

Of the four professions, Scavengers was the least profitable. Scavengers lived hand-to-mouth on a daily basis. Their next meal was largely dependent on what they found in a day. As a result, Scavengers had the highest mortality rate amongst the four professions. Ironically, however, most of the deaths were as a result of starvation as opposed to on-the-job.

Dayle once again examined the children. These weak, emancipated kids had no future as scavengers. It was a miracle they had survived this long, but he doubted that miracle would last forever. Dayle noticed most of the children looked at Grim with respect or reverence. From this alone, he inferred that Grim was most likely the reason the children were still alive.

This realization only strengthened Dayle's resolve.

Dayle's gaze hardened. He addressed Grim in a stern tone, "Hey, Grim. You're pretty smart. How long do you think you guys'll last as scavengers?"

Grim's face turned dark. It was not like he never thought about it. Grim tried his best to care for everyone, but he knew they could not last forever like this. However, he did not dare bring it up for fear of damaging morale. What was Dayle's intention for bringing up this question now?

Dayle, however, did not wait for Grim's response. Instead, once he confirmed the anger in Grim's eyes, he smile and then said, "You pass. Someone will come contact you soon for a job."

"Huh?" Grim could not follow Dayle's crazy thought process. "A job? I pass? What are you talking about?"

Dayle chuckled and then rose to his full height. "Don't worry, kid. You'll find out soon enough." He then patted Grim's shoulder and said, "You just take care of your clan. You can choose your path when you are contacted."

Grim's frown deepened. "When I am contacted?"

Dayle laughed and then walked away with the team. "Give it a few days. You'll see."

With those words, Dayle led FireRain to the mercenary gathering, where it appeared the organizers were about to give an announcement.

Dayle spotted Gunroy standing next to a beautiful blonde man who looked to be in his late twenties. The man walked forward and then raised his hands, causing a hush to fall over the crowd.

"Morning, Mercs," the blonde man greeted with a warm smile. "The name's Jack Rifle of the Peacemakers, and I will be leading this expedition." Jack briefly looked over the crowd, and then said, "Before we begin, however, we must lay down some ground rules..."