Hank quickly patched himself up, then headed to a storage nook along the wall. With practiced ease, he grabbed a bucket of water, a scrub brush, and a rag before climbing back down the rope ladder.
Ryan glanced at Jeb, unsure. The older man just pointed—no words needed. With a resigned sigh, Ryan trailed after Hank.
Their mission: to scrub away the rancid spray of blood left by the Crimson Lizard that had been slain the instant it vaulted onto the wall.
Hank splashed water over the bloodstains and began scrubbing, working the brush and rag in steady, methodical strokes.
Ryan fumbled at first, but soon mirrored Hank's circular scrubbing motions, the metallic stench of Crimson Lizard blood coating his tongue.
Once the last of the blood was scrubbed clean, Hank pulled a small pouch from his belt and sprinkled a fine white powder over the area where the stains had been.
"What's that stuff?" Ryan asked, curious.
Hank didn't even look up. "Bloodveil powder. Gets rid of the blood smell—otherwise, you'll have more beasts sniffing around in no time. If you're gonna work this job, you'd better keep some on hand."
Ryan thought to himself, I don't plan to make a career of this...
and once I get back to the real world, who knows if I'll even come back here.
Still, just in case, he made a mental note of what the powder was used for.
Ryan and Hank finished scrubbing the wall and climbed back up.
A group of guards crouched around the corpse of a Crimson Lizard—the same one that had made it onto the wall, judging by its punctured eyes.
One guard drove a sharp knife into the beast's skull with practiced precision, the blade slipping easily beneath the thick keratin plates.
"What're they doing?"Ryan asked, unable to hide his curiosity.
"Checking for a Lumin Core," Hank said offhandedly.
That was the first time Ryan had heard the term Lumin Core. He had no idea what it meant, but he held his tongue—no point in drawing more suspicion from Hank.
Instead, he kept watching as the guard peeled back the lizard's tough outer hide, exposing its thick skull. The moment the bone was fully revealed, one of the men let out a triumphant shout.
"Got one!"
Ryan craned his neck. At the center of the skull was a hollowed-out socket, cradling a walnut-sized crystal. Its smooth, glassy surface shimmered under the light, refracting delicate rays of color.
Inside, a thick, viscous liquid swirled slowly, its color shifting with the angle, flickering with an eerie glow.
Curious, Ryan stepped closer for a better look—but one of the guards shoved him back with a rough laugh. "Move it, kid. Never seen a Lumin Core before?"
Ryan stumbled, catching himself. No, he thought. But it looks an awful lot like the icon from the [Another World] app…
The guards ignored him now. One of them used a pair of tongs to pry the core from its resting place and dropped it into a simple cloth pouch, tying it shut.
The guard tied the pouch to his belt and grinned at the others.
"This core's reward will get us a damn good round at the tavern!"
"If the other lizard's got one too," another guard added with a grin, "then we're going for a second round!"
Laughter followed as they turned to the second Crimson Lizard's corpse, blades already flashing.
Ryan watched the scene unfold, then turned to Hank with a question burning in his throat. "Not all Crimson Lizards have Lumin Cores?"
Hank moved closer. "Not just lizards. Truth is, maybe one in five wild beasts grow these damn things." He jerked his chin toward the guards. "Getting one's pure luck."
As if on cue, the guards peeled back the second lizard's cranial plating. The hollow socket at the center of the skull gaped empty—no Lumin Core in sight.
A collective sigh rippled through the men, the earlier excitement fading into resigned shrugs.
Ryan surreptitiously pulled up his sleeve. [Survive to Return: 00:15:27]
glowed faintly on his forearm.
Plenty of time. He just needed to find a natural way to ask Hank about the Lumin Cores—what they were, what they did.
That game icon, [Another World], the very thing that had dragged him into this mess, looked almost identical to the cores these men were harvesting.
His gut told him this was no coincidence. These cores had to mean something, and he was going to figure out what.