He thought I was here to drag him straight into a suicide mission.
"We’re not heading there now," I said, already turning away. "There’s still so stuff I have to do first."
The relief that washed over him was almost comical.
His shoulders sagged, the tension left his jaw, and he let out a breath that sounded like he’d been holding it for hours.
I shook my head and started running again, trying to refocus on the damn daily quest so I could get it over with. But as my feet hit the dirt and the rhythm settled back in, a thought hit hard enough to make slow down mid-stride.
"Wait, Gork."
He froze mid-step and turned back toward , still looking like soone who hadn’t fully recovered from the possibility of dying ten minutes ago.
"Co to think of it," I said as I walked up to him, "you’re also a Chosen, right? You have a system."
Gork blinked at , brows knitting together in the kind of confused frown that asked why I was bringing up sothing so basic.
"I... believe so," he said slowly, almost cautiously, like he thought the question might be a trap. It was an obvious answer, but I needed it anyway.
"Then do you also get daily quests?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied with a quick nod.
"Oh..." The answer caught off guard more than I expected. I genuinely didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to earlier. The idea of him dealing with penalty zones or ti limits or random punishnts felt strange. Almost funny.
"And what are the tasks you get?" I asked, curiosity pushing the words out before I even filtered them.
I wondered if his system worked the sa way mine did, or if the universe just liked bullying specifically.
Gork answered without hesitation.
"Running for one kiloter, ten push-ups, ten sit-ups, and ten squats."
I stopped dead in my tracks.
"...What?"
He blinked, then repeated it exactly the sa way, thinking maybe I hadn’t heard him properly. "Running for one kiloter, ten push-ups, ten sit-ups, and ten squats."
I stared at him, waiting for the rest, sothing harder, sothing that sounded even remotely like the hell my own daily quests threw at , but that was it. That was the whole list. His entire routine. No climbing trees, no dodging falling stones, no sprinting with weight on your back, no weird system-induced torture masquerading as "training."
Just light exercise.
I clicked my teeth in irritation.
Of course.
Of course my own would be different. Nothing about my system was ever normal or simple, and even though that was good in so situations—great, even—in other monts, like now, it just sucked.
"Chief," Gork called softly, almost as if he was afraid of interrupting whatever storm was starting to brew on my face.
I let out a long sigh and forced myself back into the mont. No point getting lost in irritation when I could just ask him directly. So I did.
"Has there ever been a ti you missed your daily quest and didn’t get a penalty?" I asked.
"Penalty?" Gork repeated, brows rising in genuine confusion.
My expression soured imdiately. That reaction alone told more than I wanted to know. Don’t tell that hellish death run was sothing only I had to deal with.
"There’s no penalty for not doing the quest," Gork explained. "You just don’t receive the healing potion or stat points for that day."
I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. My hand closed into a fist without aning to. No penalty at all. Not even a warning. He just missed out on a potion and so points—anwhile, I got dragged into a desert full of level forty undead maniacs every ti I slipped up.
It was even worse than I thought.
"Chief?" Gork called again, worry creeping into his voice as he watched whatever expression I was making. He could probably see how close I was to losing it.
I raised my head slowly, and Gork flinched the mont our eyes t, like he wasn’t sure if I was about to yell or explode or drop dead on the spot. I let out a long breath, forcing the tension out of my shoulders before it twisted into sothing I didn’t need.
"You can go," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I’ll get in contact with you later about heading to the enemy."
He nodded quickly, almost gratefully, and hurried off.
I stood there for a mont, letting the silence settle around before exhaling again, deeper this ti. There was no real point staying angry or frustrated. My system was different—unfairly so sotis—but even that wasn’t sothing I could complain about with a straight face. I had an innate skill that was basically a cheat. A blessing disguised as a curse, or the other way around depending on the day. If the system wanted to balance that with harsher quests or nastier punishnts... well, it could have been worse. A lot worse.
I sucked it up and pushed the irritation aside.
Once my head cleared a little, I resud running through the camp, letting the rhythm of my steps pull back into focus. As I moved, I took in the familiar sights: goblins sharpening weapons, others hauling materials, a few tending to fires or checking traps. The camp looked alive, busy, stronger than the ss it had been when I first arrived.
Eventually, my run brought to the border of the settlent, where wooden planks had been woven together and propped up against a massive fence, forming a makeshift barrier that stretched across the outer edge of our territory.
At first glance, it looked too simple for sothing ant to keep danger out, and the doubt crept in almost imdiately. Wood was wood. I couldn’t help wondering if it would actually hold when it counted.
I stepped closer and wrapped my hand around one of the wooden handles, pulling lightly just to test how much force it could take.
And to my surprise, it didn’t...
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