The rain hadn't stopped.
It hissed softly against the window, blurring the lights outside. Inside the narrow inn room, the air was heavy with the smell of damp clothes and iron. A single candle burned low between the brothers, throwing slow-moving shadows across the walls.
Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, still half-dressed, his knuckles raw and bandaged. Kael leaned against the window frame, eyes scanning the dark street below. Lucien was writing something on a torn scrap of parchment — numbers, calculations, small notes of what they'd earned and what they'd need.
None of them spoke much.
The sound of the crowd from The Pit still echoed faintly in their heads. The roar. The blood. The way that strange light had appeared when Adrian won. None of them fully understood it yet — but all three had seen the way Adrian's eyes changed when it happened.
Then came the knock.
Three slow, deliberate taps.
The brothers froze. The candle flickered. Kael turned slightly, his hand already brushing the hilt of a short iron knife they'd bought earlier. Lucien's pen stopped mid-stroke.
"Too late for visitors," Lucien murmured.
Adrian stood, quiet and alert. "Open?"
Lucien nodded toward Kael. "Half."
Kael unlatched the lock and opened the door just enough for a sliver of light to catch the hallway.
Three men stood there.
They weren't drunks or travelers. They had the look of men who lived by coin and violence — rough coats, scarred knuckles, blades half-hidden under their belts. The one in front smiled thinly. "Evenin'. You're the one they call Adrian the Traveler, right?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Lucien stepped forward slightly, leaning against the table with practiced ease. "Depends who's asking."
The man's grin widened. "Name's Cal. My boys and I saw your fight tonight. Impressive stuff. Word spreads quick in Ardent Gate. Rogan must've paid you well."
Lucien's tone stayed smooth. "Not well enough to share."
Cal chuckled. "Fair. Still, a new face showing up and walking out with silver — that catches attention. Some folks like to… collect a share of that luck."
The tension thickened.
Kael shut the door quietly, leaving only the three thugs and the three brothers in the narrow space.
Adrian's voice was low. "You came to rob us."
Cal tilted his head. "Rob? No. Think of it as… tribute. A welcome tax. Every fighter in this city pays something to the Iron Hands."
Lucien's eyes flickered with recognition — the same name he'd heard that morning. "And if we don't?"
Cal's grin vanished. "Then you don't wake up tomorrow."
No one moved for a heartbeat.
Then Adrian took a slow step forward. The candlelight caught the bruises still fading along his jaw. "You should've come with more men."
Cal's smile faltered. "You think three's not enough?"
Adrian looked over his shoulder briefly. "Lucien, left. Kael, window."
The brothers moved at once.
The fight was short, brutal, and silent.
Lucien darted sideways, catching the first thug's wrist as the man drew his knife. He twisted hard, snapping bone with a clean crack. The man screamed — or tried to — before Lucien drove the knife back into his throat. Blood sprayed across the wall, hot and sudden.
Kael moved like a blade himself — low, efficient, precise. His opponent swung wide with a club; Kael slipped under the blow, caught the man's arm, and plunged his own short knife between the ribs. The thug convulsed once and went limp.
Adrian faced Cal.
The man lunged with surprising speed, slashing with a jagged blade. Adrian sidestepped, caught his arm, and slammed his elbow into Cal's face. Bone crunched. Cal stumbled back, blood gushing from his nose. He swung again blindly, but Adrian's next strike shattered his balance. One step, one pivot, and his forearm crashed down across Cal's neck.
Cal dropped, gasping for air that would never come.
Then — silence.
Only the rain and the soft hiss of the candle remained.
The three brothers stood still for a long moment. The sound of dripping blood hit the wooden floor like clockwork. None of them looked shocked — not really. They'd seen death before. Caused it before. This was just the first time they'd done it here, in new bodies, under new rules.
Kael knelt first, checking the fallen man's pulse. "Clear," he said, calm, professional. The tone of a soldier confirming a sweep. Lucien wiped his blade clean on the nearest body without a word.
Adrian looked down at Cal's motionless body.
And then — it appeared.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
You have subdued a hostile lifeform.
+50 EXP gained (lethal).
First Human Kill Bonus: +10 EXP.
Adrian blinked as the faint glow faded. His pulse slowed. The message wasn't unfamiliar — it simply confirmed what they already suspected: killing had value in this world, just like it had back home. Only this time, the world kept score.
Across the room, Lucien froze mid-motion, eyes unfocused for a second — then he exhaled sharply. "I see it too."
Kael, standing by the window, stared at the air in front of him. His voice was quiet, controlled. "Same."
Three flickering lights — faint, translucent — shimmered briefly in the dimness around them, then vanished.
Lucien looked at Adrian. "It's the same thing you saw in The Pit, isn't it?"
Adrian nodded once. "Yes. But stronger."
Kael crouched, checking one of the corpses. "They were Iron Hands. Marked with it." He pulled back the man's sleeve to reveal a crude tattoo of an iron gauntlet gripping a coin. "We just killed their men."
Lucien's mouth curved into something halfway between amusement and concern. "Then we're already part of their game."
Adrian was silent for a long while, staring at the faint smear of blood drying on his knuckles. Then another notification flickered before him, colder this time:
[Level Progress: 85 / 100 EXP]
Next Threshold Approaching.
Kael saw him looking into empty space again. "Another message?"
Adrian nodded slowly. "I'm close to something. I can feel it."
Lucien stepped over the bodies, checking their pockets with mechanical efficiency. From Cal's coat, he pulled a small pouch of silver coins — four total — and a folded parchment bearing a seal pressed in black wax. A simple insignia: an open hand with a broken coin across its palm.
He handed it to Adrian. "Looks like a summons. Someone higher up wanted us found."
Kael frowned. "Then they'll know when these men don't return."
Lucien smiled faintly. "Which means we should be gone before dawn."
They worked quickly.
Lucien wiped away what blood he could and dragged the bodies toward the back stairs, where the inn's refuse chute led into a drainage canal below. It wasn't perfect, but it would buy them hours — maybe a day.
Kael cleaned the blades with quiet precision, his movements steady and detached. Soldier's hands — calm, deliberate. Lucien said nothing; he'd seen that look on Kael's face before, back on Earth. None of them were strangers to ending lives. But the system's reward for it — that was new.
When they were done, Lucien doused the candle.
Darkness filled the room.
The rain outside grew louder, like the world itself was washing away what they'd done.
"Three dead," Lucien said softly, voice low and even. "Three lives for one night's peace."
Kael replied, "You make it sound simple."
Lucien's eyes caught a glint of light from the window. "It is simple. They came to kill us. We killed them first. That's all this world respects."
Adrian sat by the wall, staring at his hands. "It's never that simple."
Lucien gave him a long, unreadable look. "You're thinking like someone who still expects fairness."
"I'm thinking like someone who knows what comes next," Adrian said. "Retaliation."
Kael turned toward him. "Then we prepare."
The night stretched long after that.
None of them slept. Each brother cleaned his weapon in silence, the faint blue glow of the strange notifications replaying in memory.
Lucien was the first to break the quiet. "It doubled the reward," he said suddenly. "The system. It gave twice as much for killing as it did for fighting."
Adrian nodded. "Because killing means control. Finality. Maybe that's what it values."
Kael frowned. "Or it's testing us."
Lucien smirked. "Either way, we're passing."
The rain slowed near dawn. The sky outside the window paled to grey.
Lucien packed their things quickly — what little they had. "We'll move before the bodies are found. Change districts. New inn, new names."
Kael asked, "And the money?"
Lucien tossed him the pouch. "Eight silvers now, after tonight. Enough to keep moving until we find the guild."
Adrian tightened the bandage around his hand, flexing the fingers once. "Then that's where we go next."
Lucien nodded. "To the guild, then to whoever can explain this system before it consumes us."
Kael's gaze lingered on the floor, where faint stains still darkened the wood. "It already has."
Adrian looked at his brothers — both quiet, both changed. In the dim grey light, they seemed older than nineteen.
The glow returned for a heartbeat before fading again — just enough for him to see his status one more time.
[Level Progress: 85 / 100 EXP]
Next Rank Available: Initiate.
He whispered under his breath, almost to himself, "Soon."