OUT DOORS

"That's what they're after," the voice said, revealing itself to be Naran.

"Naran?!" everyone exclaimed in shock.

Micah was the first to recover. "How did you get out of prison?"

"I broke out," Naran answered casually.

"You did what?!" Mister Coroules asked, his face a mask of disbelief.

"Broke. Out," Naran repeated, slower this time.

"You fool!" Micah snapped, giving him a dumbfounded look.

"You idiot!" Naran fired back.

Mister Coroules' expression darkened. "You do realize that fighting an inspector violates every Roar regulation? But you didn't just fight one—you broke out of their jail!"

"And you got into a fight with the head of Roar's tax department!" Naran shot back.

"That was different—that bastard deserved it!" Ji Ung interjected.

"And at least* he didn't get arrested," Micah added smugly.

"But our credit tax was increased because of him!" Naran countered.

"Just because I did something wrong doesn't mean you get to do it too!" Coroules snapped.

"ENOUGH!" Miss Cathie's voice cut through the argument like a whip.

She turned to Naran, her gaze sharp. "What did you just say?"

"That I broke out of jail?" Naran replied, confused.

"No. Before that."

Realization dawned on him. "Oh. Lansing Steel."

A heavy silence fell over the group as the weight of his words sank in. Lansing Steel was one of the most coveted materials in existence—a substance so powerful that nations would go to war over it. Its unparalleled mana absorption made it the ultimate resource for crafting weapons.

"This is it, "Cathie murmured, her eyes widening. "This is what Roar is after."

"If we get our hands on it before Roar does, we might finally escape this hellhole," Naran said, a rare glimmer of hope in his voice.

"No." Coroules' voice was cold, commanding. "Lansing Steel isn't something we should touch. If we do, we'll be dragging ourselves into a war—not just with Roar, but with every major power hunting for it."

The others hesitated. As much as they wanted to deny it, Coroules was right. The risks were too great.

"Coroules is right, "Cathie agreed reluctantly. "Even if we wanted to go after it, we don't even know where it is."

With a sigh, Coroules took charge. "Everyone, get back to what you were doing. Naran—get inside. Don't let any Roar agents see you. I'll figure out how to handle them. Cathie, Ji Ung—I need to speak with you. Micah, head to the trade market and see what you can get for that pile of junk we scavenged. Use the credits to cover your team's medical bills."

As the group dispersed, Naran slipped into the building, his mind still racing. He needed to convince the others to go after the Lansing Steel—but even he didn't know where it was.

Then, another thought struck him. The kids.

He stopped one of the scavengers carrying medical supplies. "Where are Shoyo, Lebia, and Louie?"

"In the back, working on their hideout," the scavenger replied.

Naran smirked. Hideout, huh?*

He made his way to the rear of the building, where the three were struggling to prop up a rickety hut made of scrap metal.

"C'mon, Shoyo, hold this part still!" Lebia ordered.

"Louie, pull that side before it collapses!"

"I'm coming!" Louie grumbled.

Naran leaned against the wall, amused. *"So this is the palace you've been building?"*

*"NARAN!"* Lebia shrieked, abandoning the structure and sprinting toward him. She leaped into his arms, nearly knocking him over.

"I missed you!" she squealed.

He chuckled, lifting her up. "Missed you too, kid."

"Lebia, that wasn't fair!" Shoyo whined, frowning. *"You left us to do all the work!"

"Sorry! I just got excited!" she said, though she didn't look sorry at all.

"On the bright side, the big ugly's back," Louie muttered.

Naran feigned hurt. "Guess only Lebia missed me."

"I didn't miss you—I just missed annoying you," Shoyo admitted.

"Miss you? You're stupid—I'd never miss you!" Louie snapped, though his scowl wavered.

"Well, if that's the case, only Lebia gets this..." Naran pulled out a wrapped package and handed it to her.

When she tore it open, revealing a stash of snacks, Shoyo's eyes bulged.

"I MISSED YOU! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!" he yelled, scrambling forward.

Naran laughed. "Lebia, share a little with him."

Then he turned to Louie, smirking. "What about you? Want some?"

"I don't want your prison food," Louie grumbled—but his drooling betrayed him.

"Suit yourself." Naran shrugged, popping a candy into his mouth.

The three of them ate in front of Louie, who lasted all of ten seconds before cracking.

"FINE! I missed you, okay?! Now give me some!" he shouted, face red with embarrassment.

Lebia giggled and handed him a piece.

"Knew you did," Naran teased.

"SHUT UP!" Louie snapped, stuffing the snack into his mouth.

Naran eyed the collapsed heap of scrap metal the kids had been struggling with.

"Does it always look like that?" he asked, pointing at the ruined hideout.

"No! It just fell apart a second ago!" Shoyo huffed, kicking a loose piece of metal.

"Looks like our junkyard," Louie muttered.

Naran raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you live in a junkyard," Louie deadpanned.

"You little brat—" Naran lunged playfully, but Louie dodged behind Lebia.

Changing the subject, Naran frowned. "What happened to Ceno after I got arrested?"

"His restaurant got shut down," Louie said.

"Shit," Naran muttered under his breath.

"Anyway, why's Micah's team all banged up?"

"Corrupted wolves attacked them," Lebia answered.

Naran's expression darkened. "Corrupted wolves? Those things don't come near Micah's usual scavenging spots."

His thoughts raced. And now elite Roar members are here for the Lansing Steel…

A distant rumble cut through his thoughts—metabus engines. He turned just in time to see a squadron of Roar enforcers speeding toward the outer gates.

They already know where the Lansing Steel is.

He shook his head. "Where's Ceno now?"

"Probably at the trade market," Shoyo said. "That's where he's been lately."

"Alright. Good luck with your… castle," Naran said, already sprinting off before the kids could protest.

The trade market was its usual cesspool of misery. Two men brawled over a rusted fabric knife, their shouts drowned out by the indifferent crowd.

"Hand it over!"

"No way, I saw it first!"

The fight ended as quickly as it began—one man stabbed in the chest, the other in the heart. Both collapsed, lifeless. The crowd barely glanced their way before moving on.

A figure emerged from the shadows, kneeling beside the bodies. He pried the knife from stiff fingers, then rummaged through their pockets, tossing anything of value into a burlap sack.

"This might fetch a decent price," he muttered, inspecting the blade.

"Ceno!"

The man froze. Slowly, he turned to see Naran barreling toward him, grinning like an idiot.

Ceno's face twisted into a snarl.

Naran, arms wide for a hug, didn't even see the uppercut coming.

CRACK.

The punch sent him sprawling.

"You bastard!" Ceno roared, kicking Naran in the ribs. "You're the reason I'm a damn corpse collector now! My restaurant's gone! I'm drowning in debt!"

"I'm sorry! It wasn't my fault!" Naran wheezed, shielding his face.

"You're ALWAYS sorry!" Ceno grabbed him by the collar, slamming him back down.

When the beating finally stopped, Naran lay in the dirt, face swollen, one eye already bruising shut.

"You satisfied now?" he groaned.

Ceno wiped his bloody knuckles on his pants. "What do you want?"

"I came to apologize," Naran mumbled, struggling to sit up. "I know your restaurant got shut down because of me. I'm… really sorry."

"Get lost, Naran," Ceno spat. "You're nothing but trouble."

"But I said I'm sorry! Please, just forgive me!" Naran's voice cracked, tears mixing with the dirt on his face.

Ceno exhaled sharply. "Fine. I forgive you. Now stop bothering me."

Naran perked up instantly. "Okay! But… what're you doing?"

"Can't you see? I'm a corpse packer now,"* Ceno snapped, yanking a body onto his transport barrow.

Corpse packers were the unlucky souls who hauled the dead from the streets to the incinerators. A job for those with no other options.

"Why?" Naran asked, tilting his head.

"Because SOMEONE got my business shut down!"

"What I mean is… why not just open a roadside stall? You'd make way more credits than this."

Ceno paused. "…I didn't think of that."

"I was a corpse packer before I opened the restaurant," he admitted quietly. "After I lost it… I just went back to what I knew."

Naran grinned, despite his split lip. "See? Naran is helpful!"

"Brat." But there was no real heat in Ceno's voice.

[Back at the Base]

"NARAN!" Ji Ung's voice thundered through the building.

"Where is that fool?!"

Louie peeked out from behind a crate, smirking. "Uncle Ji Ung, Naran's not here."*

"What do you mean?"

"He said he was going to see Grandpa Ceno at the trade market."Louie's grin widened. Snitching was its own reward.

Ji Ung's eye twitched.

"That idiot…"