Now that Malrik had arrived, Lucien could finally relax his mind. Just moments ago, he had truly been on the verge of death.
Against a single zombie, he would naturally come out on top—if his body were in proper condition.
Unfortunately, most of his stamina had already been depleted, and his hand was still injured from the previous battle. He wasn't able to bring out even half of his true strength.
It was fortunate that his willpower wasn't lacking. He had managed to hold on just long enough for Malrik to return.
Had he given up even a second sooner, he'd already be dead.
Looking toward Malrik, who came back empty-handed, Lucien couldn't help but feel confused.
"Cult Master, you were out for a while and didn't find a single core? Don't tell me… the drop rate is really that low?" he asked, his voice tinged with disappointment.
He didn't know the exact amount of time that had passed, but it felt like Malrik had been gone for quite a while.
Given Malrik's current strength, there was no doubt he'd slain more than a few zombies—yet he still hadn't found what they needed.
"I tossed the corpse outside," Malrik said with a relaxed chuckle. "It was too much of a hassle to carry. If I had brought it with me, I wouldn't have made it back in time to save you."
Despite seeing a Cult of the Evil God member nearly die, his attitude remained calm and unbothered.
In this era, death was commonplace. Living on—that was what defied logic. If he could save someone, he would. But if he couldn't, he wouldn't dwell on it.
"How many did you have to kill to get one?" Lucien asked, feeling a bit more at ease now.
"Over a dozen. I lost count," Malrik replied, shaking his head slightly. "But the drop rate is probably lower than we initially thought. The first two zombies we killed dropped cores just because we got lucky."
With that, he walked over and dragged in the zombie corpse. Then, he began drawing the magic circle and preparing the potion for Lucien.
It didn't take long before a small amount of red liquid began to float in midair. The smell, of course, was just as foul as ever.
Lucien once again felt like throwing up—but his resolve didn't waver.
He used his iron will to force the disgusting potion down his throat.
Immediately, his body began to transform, undergoing the same kind of change Malrik had gone through before.
By the time the process ended, he felt as if he could fly.
Of course, he couldn't actually fly—it was just that his body felt so much lighter than before.
"Cult Master, I think… I might've awakened a skill," Lucien said, his voice uncertain yet filled with anticipation. "Oh right—when that zombie's arm got stopped earlier… was that your skill?"
He asked directly, not feeling the need to keep it secret.
After all, he had already decided to follow Malrik. Sharing secrets would only make future cooperation smoother.
The better they understood each other's abilities, the faster they could coordinate in battle.
"That's right. It's called Invisible Hand," Malrik replied without hesitation.
"It's the skill I gained when I broke through to one-star. It creates an invisible hand—the same size as my own—that can grab things. The more force I use, the more mental energy it consumes. It's not especially strong in combat, but I like it. It pairs well with my divine skill.
You see, when I activate my divine skill, I can't move. So this lets me grab stuff while I'm locked in place. And if we ever get a job like stealing something… this will come in real handy."
He didn't just explain the skill—he even shared its practical applications.
Hearing that, Lucien's eyes went wide. He could already imagine the future: Malrik casually strolling through guarded compounds while making powerful figures wail in despair.
'Damn it, that's not a deliveryman's skill combo… That's the toolkit of a damn thief!' Lucien cursed silently, but he was actually pleased.
The stronger his teammates were, the better.
"It's not weak in combat either," Lucien argued. "Sure, using it to restrain someone burns through energy, but what if you use it to distract enemies? And if it's invisible, how are they supposed to dodge it? Hit someone right in the eyes with it, and it'd give you a huge advantage."
Malrik paused, momentarily stunned. That… actually sounded like a pretty solid idea. But after giving it more thought, he shook his head.
"Doesn't work like that," he said.
"I just reviewed the details. The hand can only grasp—no other motions. And it can only hold things that fit within the size of my fist. Like earlier, when I grabbed that zombie's wrist."
The name of the skill sounded ridiculously overpowered, but the effect... wasn't nearly as impressive.
Not terrible—but far from game-breaking.
"Well, this is good enough," Lucien shrugged. "If someone gained an invincible skill the moment they reached one-star, that'd be the real nonsense. I also got a skill with a name that's totally misleading—Perfect Copy."
It sounded terrifying at first glance, but…
"It only lets me duplicate items," Lucien explained. "The copied items look exactly like the original, but they're missing the core functions.
They also disappear after thirty minutes. And I can't copy anything that's way above my level—like, I can duplicate a two-star core, but not a three-star one. Right now I have no idea whether that restriction will lift at higher realms."
For some reason, both of them suddenly looked at each other with the same strange expression.
These skills…
No matter how you looked at them, they didn't seem like something meant for good people.
They were exactly the kind of abilities a group of thieves or criminals would dream of having.
"You…" They spoke in unison—then both fell silent.
"Cult Master, you go first," Lucien said.
"I think…" Malrik muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching, "our skills are… a little suspicious. Could it really be fate? Will my Cult of the Evil God one day become that kind of organization—the kind whose name makes everyone cry in fear?"
He had only picked the name because it sounded cool. He hadn't actually intended to become a villain…
"…Sigh. I don't know either. Maybe it really is fate," Lucien replied. "Anyway, we're All-Purpose Couriers. We take on any job, remember? Let's just think of these skills as tools to help us work more efficiently."
After that, the two looked at each other again—and nodded seriously.
Yes.
They were delivery men.
Good people.
Not a gang of thieves.
If a third person had been present at that moment, there was no way in hell they would've believed such shameless lies. Even a kid might've called bullshit.