Fasar and Rezak looked at each other. Their eyebrows were furrowed, mouths slightly open. There was a clear flash of confusion in their eyes.
They turned to Kilasafi, then quickly exchanged glances with each other again.
Fasar stared intently at Kilasafi. He placed his glass on the table.
"Sorry, man. Maybe we heard wrong."
"Maybe our hearing is messed up because of the noise in this place."
Fasar turned to Rezak, seeking agreement.
"Right, Rezak?"
Rezak laughed awkwardly, his voice slightly off-key.
"Y-yeah."
"Maybe we heard wrong. The sound here is really loud."
"Become criminals," Kilasafi said louder, emphasizing every syllable. His eyes stared straight at his friends.
"Let's do illegal things like selling illegal artifacts, not paying taxes, and robbing..."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Fasar jumped from his chair. His right hand quickly covered Kilasafi's mouth. His face was panicked, cold sweat appearing on his temples.
Rezak glared. His eyes swept the surroundings quickly. Several patrons at the next table who were drinking ale turned to them with suspicious looks. The sound of chatter near them subsided for a moment before finally returning to normal as the patrons went back to focusing on their own business.
Fasar sighed deeply. He released his hand from Kilasafi's mouth and slowly sat back down. His shoulders slumped in relief.
"Thank goodness there are no guards here."
Rezak also sighed, leaning his back against the chair. He wiped the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve.
He then chuckled, a laugh that sounded forced.
"He's crazy... he's possessed... because he's poor and single, he went crazy..."
Fasar stared sharply at Kilasafi, his eyes narrowing.
"What the hell was that?"
"Do you want us to be hanged for talking like that here?"
"Haaah?"
"Are you crazy saying you want to be a criminal that loudly, oi?" Fasar hissed.
"Tch," Kilasafi hissed. He leaned his body forward until his chest touched the edge of the table.
"Come closer."
Fasar and Rezak hesitated for a moment, but finally, they leaned their bodies forward too, bringing their heads closer to the center of the table.
"Listen," Kilasafi whispered, his voice low but full of emphasis.
"That's the only thing we can do right now."
"Like this, like this..."
Kilasafi tapped his finger on the rough wooden table, following the rhythm of his speech.
"Become waiters? The pay is small. Become adventurers? Well, look at our condition. Open a restaurant or business? No capital."
"Register as a Guardian? The minimum level is forty!"
Kilasafi paused for a moment, letting his words sink in.
"Listen... like I said, the fastest way to get rich here is to do illegal things. Like... selling illegal artifacts, leveling up illegally, or robbing corrupt nobles!"
"There is no legal way."
"B-but aren't there many people who got rich through normal ways? Like becoming adventurers? Like Bomil?" Rezak said. He frowned, trying to find an argument.
"Ah, him? His father is a noble," Kilasafi cut in quickly. He rolled his eyes.
"Or who?"
"Slafia? She has connections to the Association."
"Virda? She has connections to the Merchant Association."
"Or hmm, Liam? His girlfriend is rich."
Kilasafi looked at Fasar and Rezak alternately with a challenging gaze.
"Try to name a high-level adventurer who is rich, who has no noble connections, no Kingdom or Guardian connections, no merchant connections, and is purely like us."
Fasar fell silent. He tapped his chin, his eyes moving upwards searching his memory.
"Hmm... there isn't any..."
Rezak bit his lower lip, his face looking deep in thought.
"Yeah... rare."
"Okay, like this... let's try... um... who isn't here yet..." Rezak paused for a moment, his eyes sparking a little.
"How about a singer, Chef?"
Kilasafi raised one eyebrow high.
"Really?"
Kilasafi looked back, towards the busy bar kitchen, then looked back at Rezak.
"I will go to this bar's kitchen and pay ten gold coins to borrow their cooking tools so you can cook now."
"And if they say it's not good, return thirty gold coins."
"Have balls to do it?"
Rezak shook his head quickly, his face paling imagining the loss.
"See? There isn't any, right?" Kilasafi said while spreading his arms slightly.
"B-but yeah... still, becoming criminals?" Rezak rubbed the back of his neck, his face still doubtful.
They then sat back relaxed, leaning their backs against their respective chairs. Silence fell for a moment.
"What will I tell my girlfriend later?" Rezak said softly, staring at the bar ceiling.
Fasar nodded quickly.
"Yeah, yeah!" He pointed at Rezak.
"Imagine she comes home and then like that you say, 'Em, um, Mommy, I think I'm going to become a criminal.'"
Fasar shook his head dramatically.
"Like damn, what will be in her mind later? Like damn!"
"For real," Rezak nodded in agreement. He patted Kilasafi's shoulder gently.
"What's actually wrong with you, Man? Are you stressed? Come on, tell us, we'll listen."
Fasar massaged his temples with two fingers, his eyes closed.
"I think I misjudged you, Kila... I thought you were the sanest among us, honestly..."
"Nah, he seems just stressed, Sar," Rezak said.
"He just needs a girlfriend."
"Haaaah, maybe it's a bad idea to contemplate fate right now..." Fasar lowered his head, staring at the empty glass in front of him.
"I'm sick of it." Kilasafi, who had been silent, finally spoke again, his voice cold and flat.
"I'm sick of this life."
"I'm sick of this life..."
"Where did your ambitious desire to become rich go?"
Kilasafi leaned his body again, staring sharply into his friends' eyes.
"Do you remember back on Earth we even bought a scam course for seventy dollars and got nothing? Do you remember?"
"Or when we tried dropshipping this dropshipping that, and tried SMMA or whatever that was and failed, remember, remember?"
"Where are you guys from that time?"
"Where?"
Kilasafi looked around, ensuring the situation was safe, then leaned his body forward again.
"Listen, back on Earth if we did criminal acts we were indeed fucked up."
"First, no weapons. Second, we were weak. And bad connections."
Kilasafi smiled faintly, a smile full of confidence.
"Here, we have power. I am an Assassin class."
Kilasafi pointed to Fasar.
"You, Void Hunter."
He pointed to Rezak.
"You, Mage."
"See? Our potential."
"And here we just need to level up so the kingdom is too lazy to chase us," Kilasafi continued.
"You know, other criminals must think the same as us!"
"Their bounties are high, but the kingdom rarely catches them, right?"
Fasar and Rezak's faces slowly changed. The wrinkles on their foreheads disappeared, replaced by an expression of realization. Their eyes widened slightly, as if just realizing something obvious in front of their eyes. They looked at each other, then nodded slowly unconsciously.
Kilasafi sighed, his tone softening but remaining serious.
"Listen, what we are doing isn't too brutal anyway. First, we enter an illegal dungeon."
"We just enter, knock the guard unconscious, and that's it!"
"Not killing the person."
"At most? You say at most?" Fasar asked skeptically.
"Or selling illegal artifacts? We're just selling, take it easy," Kilasafi continued.
"And in my opinion... the nobles and Kingdom here are corrupt. Just look at the level-up policy, taxes, and so on."
He whispered again,
"It's just a matter of time."
"Hmm... m-makes sense..." Rezak said softly, his eyes gazing into the distance.
"O-oi, Rezak?" Fasar was surprised, turning quickly to his friend. His mouth gaped in disbelief.
"Please think about it. I give you one day. If you don't want to, let me do it alone," Kilasafi said firmly. He stood up from his chair, straightening his white robe.
"If you are interested, I'll wait at my inn tomorrow morning."
"A-alone?!" Fasar said, his eyes widening in shock.
"H-he's already lost his mind..." Rezak muttered while shaking his head, staring at Kilasafi's retreating back.