Chapter 15: Diver’s Guild

As Peace had surmised, he was once again in the body of a Night Elf.

Instantly, a wave of revulsion coursed through his body.

Peace threw the thin covers off of him and rolled off the bed onto the lacquered wood floor. He held a hand to his mouth as the terrifying image of the six dead humans turned into mangled abominations flashed in his mind.

No modern man was used to such a horrific sight.

It was only now, with the mental block gone, that Peace truly took in what he’d seen. Those mutated corpses, the bones sticking out through their skin, fetid, corrupted blood everywhere... it was truly horrible.

Not to mention digging through the corpse of that monster.

Plucking away the stringy muscle fibers and tearing at the mass of fat, tender meat inside...

In memory, it was far more disgusting than delectable.

Peace choked back vomit, swallowing the bit that clawed its way up his throat. He stayed on the floor, fighting that horrible urge for nearly three minutes.

Finally, he picked himself up and slowly sauntered over to the window shutters before peeling them open, letting the morning rays fill the room with their radiance.

He didn’t care if they weakened him; within them lay a strange sanctuary, something that fought back against the plague eating his mind.

Peace hobbled back over to the bed and curled up in a ball, consumed by his thoughts, eventually letting the initial shock pass without any involuntary... spewing.

But no matter how much he wanted to stay curled up in bed, today wouldn’t allow it. Being lazy was tantamount to a death sentence.

He had no food, no water, and the gateway to the dungeon would open in approximately twelve hours.

Peace threw on his tattered clothes as well as the robe, all of which had been with him since he’d woken up in this body. Then, he slid the dagger he’d bought into the waistband of his pants after wrapping the blade with some cloth he’d found abandoned in an alleyway.

’I kind of wish I had shoes...’

Footwear was a bit of an issue.

In any case, Peace left the room he’d only gotten to call home for one night, then returned the key to the owner of the inn. The moment he did, it felt like he’d signed away any chance of second thoughts.

He now truly was only worth what he could carry.

Peace continued to get stares as he walked out of the inn and onto the streets, some people even screaming at the sight of him. However, it seemed rumors of his existence were spreading pretty quickly, as in almost every incident, a person would speak on his behalf and explain that he wasn’t part of the Night Parade, ’whatever that was’, but rather just looked like them.

Of course, explaining on his behalf didn’t mean they liked him. Most still purposefully walked out of his way as if coming within a couple of meters of him would kill them, but at least he wasn’t being detained or assaulted.

Well, physically assaulted.

Verbal insults still came regularly, no matter how hard Peace pulled the robe over his eyes and tried to hide his face.

Thankfully, he’d made it to the Diver’s Guild without too much suffering along the way.

The Diver’s Guild was essential for all Divers — people who entered the dungeon in hopes of sustaining the Immortal Citadel. At least, that was the overarching goal.

While each person might have a different motive, and many might not even care about the well-being of the last sanctuary, they were, at the very least, concerned about the financial benefits. And, coincidentally, sustaining the citadel also meant they got paid.

Because all of the land beyond the city was corrupted and infertile, the land within its walls was relatively limited, despite how massive the city itself was.

It would be logistically impossible to feed and nurture the several hundred million inhabitants, but the stones retrieved by Divers made it possible to miraculously create food, water, and other resources.

Peace wasn’t entirely certain of the conversion process because all he cared about while playing the game was handing the stones over and getting his coin, but he knew they were vital to sustaining the massive city, which was anything but a citadel, contrary to its name.

The Diver’s Guild was the entity that handled all the logistics concerning these stones, acting as a sort of broker for Divers.

Then, there was also the secondary aspect of the guild providing a sort of protective law in the lawless abyss, as well as acting as a bank.

The dungeon was a mystical realm separate from the Immortal Citadel, hidden from imperial view. Therefore, enforcing laws there was a tall task.

The only tried-and-true method one had to protect themselves was to buy a tag from the Diver’s Guild.

The tag was similar to a military dog tag worn around the neck.

Peace wasn’t entirely sure how it worked here, but in the game, any kills committed by human or humanoid beings would be recorded on the tag, which was somehow linked to the Diver’s Guild.

Then, if a humanoid kill was recorded, the killer would have to plead their case.

While it didn’t seem like much in terms of actual protection, it at least served as a warning from one Diver to another: if someone was wearing the tag, they probably didn’t mean harm. Or at least, not serious harm. If the tag was absent, then it was best to get the hell away from them. Even if they didn’t mean to harm you, it was at least a sign that they were shady.

And while there wasn’t an actual restriction on who could enter the dungeon, the tags showed that you weren’t a criminal. They also couldn’t simply be stolen, since they disintegrated if separated too far from their host. And if a tag disintegrated, it also alerted the Diver’s Guild. If someone returned with a disintegrated tag, they’d be questioned and placed on probation as a precaution against using it to lull people into a false sense of security.

Though, there were still many flaws with the tags.

Then... there was the final aspect of the Diver’s Guild — banking and parties.

While it wasn’t something Peace really dwelled on in the game, if one wasn’t in a clan, they could register their party with the guild. This didn’t mean much, except that upon death, all assets remaining in the guild’s control were split between the remaining party members and the victim’s family.

Most of the money would be returned to the family, but if any items were being vaulted, the Diver’s associates got first rights.

Peace didn’t have to worry about that right now, though. Or more like he didn’t have a reason to worry.

It wasn’t like he had anything to lose beyond his life...

He didn’t even have a single ally, and it really didn’t look like that would change anytime soon.

The only thing he actually valued at the moment was the hope of reuniting with his sister.

Peace finally threw open the doors and stepped into the guildhall, forcing heads to turn as countless eyes settled on the lone, ragged Night Elf with red eyes, silver hair, and a tattered robe with a hood that vainly attempted to hide his face.