Chapter 2.1 (Patreon)

Rolled and got good old MJ.

The task was easy. A local alchemist, Court Connor, was planning to expand his workshops thanks to a recent boom in his business. However, as the workers were expanding their basement, they found a wall that was not part of the initial building.

In York, having your house built on top of ruins was not that strange. The old city was built upon layers and layers of history, buildings from long ago that were buried under the sands of time, and people just built stuff on top. However, this was not just a relic from old times; something came out of the walls the second that workers opened up a hole.

Rats, huge mutant rats, something that the guard should take care of, but since they retreated into the hole after attacking the workers, they were on the low-priority list. That meant that they would take months to fix it, and the alchemist wanted this fixed now.

“Hey, what mission are you taking?” A feminine voice asked from behind Pyotr.

She was a huge woman, at least two meters of pure, dense muscle. From her tights the size of the young man's head to her muscular arms, she was built like a brick house. The best part was that one could easily see that she was wearing only a bikini made out of metal, covering only her big breasts and crotch area. However, she had more exotic details like green skin, a pair of tusks, and long ears. Red hair flowed from her head down her waist like a river of blood, probably caused by the big sword hanging from her back.

“The alchemist one,” Pyotr answered, his eyes hypnotized by those chiseled abs.

The woman nodded, her big blue eyes staring at him. “Good, I am coming with you; we split the reward 50/50,” she said with a matter-of-fact tone.

“I don't even know your name,” the young man muttered. He was confused at first, but then curious about this woman who was so eager to work with him.

“I am Marr Janok,” the orc answered, her tone calm and collected.

The young man shook his head, finally being able to focus on more details of the woman, like the backpack and the knife hanging from her waist. “I am Pyotr . . . can I call you MJ for short?” He asked with a playful tone. It was a wonder that the knight could just unweave his helmet at will so the woman could see his face and read his expression to not get the wrong impression.

She took a long look at the man, rubbing her chin, and then nodded. “Hmp . . . your terms are acceptable. Let’s go,” MJ finally said, happy that he didn't ask for a bigger cut of the pay.

“Wait! I have more questions,” the young man added while following the giant that was already moving toward the location.

“Ask while we are walking,” she answered with a small smile. MJ was just happy that everything was going smoothly.

“Why do you need my help? It is just a bunch of rats," Pyotr asked again, thinking that she may have ulterior motives.

“Going alone in any combat in an unexplored area is foolish. Even something as simple as extra perspective can save your life,” she answered, showing that for someone wearing nothing more than a bikini armor, she seemed to have a head over her shoulders.