Getting side-tracked in a fighting party wasn't ideal, but the way Logan figured it, if he took charge of the group and pushed everyone to move their asses, giving everyone only enough time to participate in the fight so they'd obtain XP, he could get this done in less than an hour. That would still give him twenty-three hours to complete his Build an Empire Quest.

Once he crafted this lodestone, that left eight others, but the most important part of the quest was the purchase condition. After all, if enough people in Australia bought items from his lodestone, that would satisfy the requirement to sell 100 items. Whether he crafted lodestones in other places wouldn't matter that much.

He was cognizant of the fact that it wouldn't be the smartest strategy long term… the more people who bought items, the more money he'd make, but strictly speaking, satisfying the quest wasn't such a monumental task.

Crafting the lodestone here didn't give him any guarantees though. He'd have to craft, spread the word, and run. There would be no way to monitor how many people ended up buying items while he was occupied with finding the next city. To be safe, and to give him the best chances of success, he'd have to find other places with high populations.

But to get to that point, he first needed to get past this task.

Which was killing a massive plastic blob.

Logan held back an eyeroll at the absurdity of the situation as Charlie led him around the corner of a smaller building attached to one of the skyscrapers. Behind the building was a secluded area away from the crowd, about the size of a small parking lot.

They'd turned it into a makeshift training field. Rubber mats covered the asphalt, some stacked level to give the ground a cushion, while others were stacked on top of each other. It looked like something a gymnast would use. Or something people could use to throw others on without breaking their bones.

Off to the sides of the mats, portable tables, those same ones he'd seen in the crowd, held a range of weapons, from guns, knives, to machetes. Hanging down the wall of the smaller building, they'd fastened a sheet of metal that looked like a humongous baking pan. It was the size of the side of a metal shed. Across the surface were dents and scorch marks, as if someone had taken a flamethrower to it and roasted it.

Milling in the middle of the mats was a group of four. Logan came to a stop as he stood there, staring. Oh, hell no, this was what he had to deal with?

He was expecting soldiers, more men in those black uniforms, not whatever the hell this was—the dregs of society?

The first man was in his fifties. Tall but out of shape, the buttons of his white dress shirt bulging against a large belly. He was wearing dress pants and a jacket, as if he'd just walked out of a business meeting. Even his shoes were dress shoes—black and shiny. He looked uncomfortable and out of place, a mulish, worried expression on his face as he watched Charlie and Logan approach.

Logan scanned him with [Idiot's Inspect]:

[Lachlan Carter: Level 20. A human being.]

[Highest Stat: Constitution. Characteristics: Has a strong moral compass. Hidden name: Lachlan.]

The man was barely level 20, and he'd volunteered to fight a level 90 monster? Something wasn't adding up here. At least the others weren't so pathetic, but they were all lowered leveled than Charlie.

The woman next to Lachlan was leaning against the wall of the building, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, her posture relaxed. Her legs were crossed, showing off long, shapely legs. Her arms were tanned, showing a wiry strength, but although her body hinted to the possibility of her being fit and a fighter, she wasn't paying attention to anything going on around her, her nose in a paperback book with dog-eared pages, her mouth in a faint grin as if whatever she was reading was making her smile.

She glanced up at Charlie and Logan as they approached, gave them a once-over and then went back to her book.

Logan scanned her with [Idiot's Inspect]:

[Mia White: Level 59. A human being.]

[Highest Stat: Wisdom. Characteristics: Metal is always a weapon. Hidden name: Mia.]

The other two people were on the mats, grappling like wrestlers, and they might as well be twins—with bulging biceps and black tank tops, their hair shaved into buzzcuts. One of the men had dirty, torn nails, while the other was covered in grease stains. They paced, shuffling around the mats as they tried to get a better grip of the other, their arms straining and mouths in grim lines of concentration.

The man with the dirty, torn nails grunted. "Not fair, Jax, you're slippery like an eel! Hold still, for Christ's sake!"

The other man, Jax, laughed. "Tell a man to hold still while wrestling and see what you get, you moron!" With a grappling move, Jax used one of his meaty hands to grasp the other man on the shoulder, latching on like a limpet, while he swung a leg under his ankle, tripping him. They went down onto the mats with a slam, and a plume of dust rose into the air.

The other man tried to get away, scrambling underneath Jax's hold, but Jax was too quick, and he managed to wrap an arm around the other man's neck in a chokehold while pressing the weight of his entire body on top of him, crushing him.

"Have enough?" he bellowed

The other man kicked with his legs, panted and lifted his back, trying to throw Jax off, but Jax held on like a monkey, his muscles bulging. He might as well be crushing the other man to death.

Charlie cleared his throat. "Don't kill him, Jax. It defeats the purpose of training."

"He hasn't tapped out! Tap out, mate!"

The other man continued to strain, and then mumbled something too faint for even Logan's enhanced perception attribute to pick up.

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"What was that?" asked Jax.

Mia looked up from her book, narrowing her eyes as she gave them a judging glance before she went back to reading. The other man, Lachlan, crossed his arms over his chest, his face pale as he watched.

On the mat, the other man's face and the back of his neck was turning an unhealthy red. With one last desperate wiggle and buck, he let out a defeated growl and his whole body went limp.

"You had enough?" demanded Jax.

He gestured with two of his fingers like he wanted to flip off Jax rather than surrender, but despite the sarcasm, Jax must have taken it as a tap out. "All right, then," said Jax, releasing him and getting up before patting him in a friendly way on the back of the head.

While the man on the mat panted and tried to get to his feet, Logan scanned them with [Idiot's Inspect]:

[Jax Leethe: Level 69. A human being.]

[Highest Stat: Strength. Characteristics: His hands are weapons. Hidden name: Hulk.]

[Voss Allen: Level 29. A human being.]

[Highest Stat: Strength. Characteristics: A drive to succeed. Hidden name: Vox.]

Unless Logan was missing the rest of the group, Charlie and the soldiers were expecting Logan to ensure the safety of a bunch of low leveled, untried assholes? Against a level 90 monster the size of a house?

"This is the group?" Logan asked Charlie, trying to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

"You got it, this is the party you'll be leading." He raised his voice. "Good news, everyone, we have our leader for this group! A volunteer from up north—Canada, if you can believe it. He's high leveled enough to lead us to victory."

Lachlan swallowed and his face grew even more pale.

Logan shot him a look. "Are you sure you want to do this, man? Wanting to fight is commendable, but if I were you, I'd wait until you were up against something a little closer to your own level."

Lachlan straightened in outrage. "Is he for real?" he asked the others.

"Come on," said Logan. "You're only level 20. This is suicide."

Charlie smirked. "What do you say, Lachlan?"

Mia slammed her book shut and sprung up off the wall, scowling. "He's not here willingly, asshole. He was drafted."

Logan paused. "Drafted." Like in the army? There was something else going on here that he wasn't sure he was going to like, and it came back to the smirking man next to him. Charlie was way too full of himself, as if his association with Damsel gave him a license to be a fucktard.

"Speak for yourself," said Jax. "I'm here of my own free will, going to get some of that blob monster XP if I do say so." He cut Logan a side glance. "But yeah, can't say trying to encourage the draftee to duck the draft is the way to go, if I were you, mate. It's not like he's here by choice. Got the short end of the stick, didn't he? The last group went up against a level 50 two tailed crocodile, instead, Lachlan here gets a blob monster."

"You didn't volunteer?" Logan said, pinning Lachlan with a look.

Lachlan straightened and pulled down on the collar of his jacket. "My mother is 85. It was here or the swamps."

At Logan's confused look, Mia blinked at him. "Don't tell me you joined without reading the fine print?" She snorted. "What an…" She smiled and crooned with relish, "Idiot."

Logan gave her a sharp glance.

Lachlan sighed. "Calling a man names because they haven't been given the courtesy of an explanation is no way to treat someone. Especially someone who's that level. My apologies on their behalf. I abhor rudeness. The complex is open to all, but if you join and you're at least level 20, you must participate in one fighting party. The threat determines the size of the party."

Lachlan had initially come across as lazy, but Logan had already decided that he liked the man. But it looked like he'd been right to wonder how they'd organized so quickly. Although shelter for the larger population was all well and good, he can't say that he agreed with forcing someone who was level 20 to fight a level 90 monster. It smacked of a dictator or a mercenary force who didn't care who they killed in their pursuit of power.

"So was everyone else drafted? Or did anyone else volunteer?"

Charlie nodded his head at the others. "Mia and Voss are on their first required stint. We like to spread out the levels so we're not putting together a group comprised of low level, weak grunts." He lowered his voice in an undertone to Logan. "It makes us look bad when no one comes back."

He hadn't lowered his voice enough, since Lachlan had clearly picked up on it, his mouth in a scowl. "So you admit that forcing me to go out against a monster over triple my level isn't fair."

"I just said we make sure we have different levels in the groups. Besides, you should be kissing my ass, mate. Did you look at this man's level? You've got a better chance of coming back than any other group. You'd only have better odds if Damsel were here."

Logan looked at them askance. "You're going to fight against that plastic monster with only five people?"

Charlie cracked his knuckles, all business. "We would have recruited more people, but not now, not with you here."

Logan frowned. For a second, he was tempted to use [Threshold Shift] to leave and tackle the monster on his own. Why should Logan share XP with this asshole? But Charlie seemed to be in charge here, and who's to say that he'd let Logan craft his lodestone unless he cooperated?

Logan ground his teeth, his lips pressing into a white slash as his annoyance surged. Could nothing be easy? For once he'd like a break. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Forget leaving to tackle the monster on his own, Logan was beginning to seriously debate just leaving entirely and finding somewhere else to craft his lodestone. This was one city, there were thousands of places out there with people… people more desperate than these Aussies. People who would jump on the chance to purchase items from his store.

But he'd already spent way too much time here to leave with nothing. He may not like what they were doing, but Logan didn't have time to do anything but pursue the straightest path. It may not be ideal, but he only had to deal with these fuckers for an hour at most and then he could be on his way.

"Fine," said Logan. "Are we ready? Everyone has weapons?"

Mia smiled. "I don't need a weapon."

Logan nodded his head at Lachlan. "What about you?"

Lachlan walked over to the wall, crouched down and then returned with a cast iron skillet that was ten inches across.

Logan blinked. "Are you sure you don't want a different weapon? There's a lot on the table over there. A sword maybe? A machete?"

Lachlan gave him a stubborn look and gripped his skillet in a white-knuckled grip. "It got me this far. It'll do."

Voss had gotten to his feet and had shaken off his defeat, beads of sweat running down his face and soaking his shirt. Cracking his neck, he shook his head, spraying droplets from his wet hair, then grunted. Pacing over to the table, he viewed the weapons consideringly and then picked up a kitchen mallet, something that looked like a meat tenderizer, hefting it and weighting it, before giving it a test swing.

Logan held back a raised eyebrow. Two people who used kitchen equipment as weapons, a woman with nothing but a book, and two men who looked way too overconfident.

Logan had dealt with worse.

Urgency eating away at him, the need to get them to move their asses making his nerves surge, Logan said, "All right, hold on," and before they could object, deployed [Threshold Shift] and sent everyone to the harbour.

***

The shorter the distance, the less impact [Threshold Shift] had on Logan. When he'd used it to travel from Canada to Australia, he'd noticed that distinct brush of cold, a chill that went down to his bones. Although short distances also resulted in vertigo, a sensation like dropping on a rollercoaster, Logan was starting to get used to it. It took one blink before he was standing, steady and firm, his sword in one hand, ready to fight whatever came at him.

He couldn't say the same for the others.

"What the fuck was that?" asked Voss, retching.

Lachlan had a distinct green tint to his face, and the white of Charlie's eyes were showing.

"I took a short cut," said Logan. "Come on, I thought you wanted to fight this thing?"

Logan had transported them twenty feet away from the plastic blob monster.

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