Jason leaned back in his chair, his swollen stomach pressing against the edge of the wooden table. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten this much—probably never in either of his lives. The stew had been thick and rich, the bread fresh and warm, and he had devoured every last bite like a starving man.

Because he was a starving man.

But as he sat there, rubbing his belly with a contented sigh, Jason realized he was the luckiest man in existence. He couldn’t believe he had found these two creatures—a werewolf who could snap steel with her bare hands and an elf who could explode heads with a flick of his wrist. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

If he didn’t have them, there was no doubt he would be dead. The guards back in Eldrath would have caught him. Tauriel would have done who knew what to him. He would have been just another body in that dungeon, another failed experiment.

But Jason knew he had to get stronger. Because otherwise, he would remain a liability.

If he could adapt to more things—more magic, more attacks, more dangers—it would make him practically immortal. His system had already given him twenty percent adaptation to magic. What if he could push that to fifty? Eighty? A hundred?

But Jason wondered if there was a limit to it. Could he adapt to everything? Or would his body eventually hit a wall, unable to process any more resistance?

He pushed the thought aside for now and focused on the meal.

Jason fed and fed until his stomach was swollen like a pregnant woman’s. His belt—if he had one—would have been bursting. His shirt was stretched tight over his midsection, and he had to unbutton his pants just to breathe.

Ylva, on the other hand, had eaten more than him. Bowl after bowl after bowl. The server had brought her four servings before she finally slowed down. But her stomach didn’t move an inch. Not a single bulge. Not even a hint of fullness.

"No wonder she can take every inch," Jason thought to himself with a smirk. "It’s a bottomless abyss."

The moment Ylva caught him looking at her, her eyes narrowed and a low growl rumbled from her chest. Her ears flattened against her head, and her claws tapped against the table.

Jason looked away immediately, pretending to be fascinated by a crack in the ceiling.

Thalion ate but not as much as them. His portions were smaller, his bites slower. If anything, he was shocked that they could eat that much to begin with. His pale eyes flickered between Jason’s swollen belly and Ylva’s completely flat stomach, and something like disbelief crossed his gaunt face.

But Thalion could feel himself getting stronger. The food was helping. The rest was helping. His passive magic was still working, still knitting his wounds back together, still restoring his depleted mana reserves. He wasn’t anywhere near full strength, but he was better than he had been.

Ylva had paid for their meals.

Jason watched her count out the coins, her claws clicking against the silver pieces before sliding them across the table to the young green creature who had served them.

"Thank you," Jason said, meaning it. "I mean it. I know I joke around a lot, but... seriously. Thank you."

Ylva shrugged, her tail flicking. "Someone had to. You’re broke and he’s been in a cage for centuries. Not exactly a gold mine between the two of you."

Jason laughed. "Fair point."

"You know," Thalion said, setting down his spoon, "you have to make some money for yourself. It is unbecoming of a male to let a female pay for such things."

Jason turned his head slowly to face the elf. His expression was flat, unimpressed.

"You say that after you finish eating?" Jason fired back. "How convenient."

Thalion cleared his throat before looking away, his pale cheeks flushing slightly. "I... I would have offered, but I have no coins."

"Exactly," Jason said, pointing a finger at him. "So maybe sit this one out, ancient one."

Thalion muttered something under his breath that Jason couldn’t hear, but Ylva’s ears twitched and she snorted with amusement.

They were becoming friends at an astounding rate. Jason was enjoying their company more than he would care to admit. The banter, the bickering, the way Ylva’s tail flicked when she was annoyed and the way Thalion’s stammer worsened when he was embarrassed—it felt almost normal.

Then the doors of the tavern swung open.

The room changed.

Jason noticed it immediately. The chatter died down. The laughter stopped. Patrons who had been loud and boisterous suddenly found their drinks very interesting. Eyes dropped to tables. Shoulders hunched.

A group of various creatures walked in, and the others kept their heads down.

It was so cliché. The big scary group entering the bar, everyone else suddenly terrified. Jason almost laughed at it. He had seen this scene in a hundred movies back in his old life.

"I guess these are the big bad wolves," Jason muttered under his breath.

But these weren’t just thugs. Jason could feel it. The way they moved, the way the air seemed to bend around them—this was one of the top fifty guilds in the world.

Three of them stood out from the rest.

The first was a massive reptilian creature, easily seven feet tall, covered in dark green scales that gleamed like armor under the tavern’s dim light. His name was Kaelen, and twin axes hung from his belt, each blade stained dark with old blood. His eyes were vertical slits, yellow and cold, and scars crisscrossed his snout like a map of old battles. When he walked, the floorboards creaked under his weight.

The second was a slender, feline creature with fur the color of midnight blue. A catborn, Jason realized—similar to werewolves but distinctly different. Her name was Mira, and she moved with an unnatural grace, her paws making no sound on the wooden floor. Her eyes were large and amber, slit-pupiled like a predator’s, and her tail swayed slowly behind her. She wore leather armor that hugged her lean frame, and twin daggers hung at her hips. Unlike Ylva’s rough, wild appearance, Mira was sleek and elegant—dangerous in a completely different way. Her whiskers twitched as she scanned the room, and when her gaze passed over Jason, he felt like prey being sized up.

The third was the smallest of the group, no taller than Jason’s shoulder. A dwarven woman named Helga, broad and stocky with arms thicker than Jason’s thighs. Her red beard was braided with iron rings, and her nose had been broken so many times it was practically flat against her face. She carried a shield on her back that looked like it weighed more than Jason himself, and a warhammer hung at her hip, its head crackling with faint traces of lightning magic.

Jason’s eyes accidentally met one of them before he could look away.

Kaelen, the reptilian, stopped walking. His yellow eyes locked onto Jason’s face.

Thalion and Ylva didn’t pay them any attention. Ylva was still eating. Thalion was staring at the table, lost in thought.

"Oi," Kaelen rumbled, his voice like grinding stones. "What are you looking at?"

The creature was huge. Covered in scars. His massive hand clenched into a fist the size of Jason’s head.

Jason scoffed. He wasn’t about to be intimidated by some overgrown lizard in a tavern.

He tapped Thalion on the shoulder. "Hey, Thalion. Blow up his head."

Jason never broke eye contact with Kaelen, a smirk playing on his lips.

Thalion didn’t move. "Sorry, but my power doesn’t work that way. I have been using magic nonstop, and my mana is depleted."

Jason’s smirk froze. "Say what now?"

Before Jason could react, Kaelen’s massive hand shot out, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him out of his seat. Jason’s chair clattered to the floor. His feet dangled off the ground as the reptilian held him up like a ragdoll.

Ylva didn’t react. Her spoon continued moving from bowl to mouth, her expression completely neutral.

Thalion placed a calming hand on her arm. "Do not worry. This is a no-killing zone. They cannot kill him inside these walls. At most, they will rough him up a bit."

Ylva nodded slowly, still chewing.

"YLVA!!!!!" Jason screamed at the top of his lungs, kicking his legs uselessly in the air. "YLVA, HELP! HE’S GOT ME! DO SOMETHING!"

She didn’t come to his aid.

She just took another bite of stew.