All I need is a job and somewhere to stay. Shobai said.

The bustling town reminded him of some fantasy role player game: vibrant item shops, blacksmiths, pubs, and restaurants lined the cobblestone streets. There was even a boarded up adventurer’s guild.

Get lost! A little demon child shouted as he passed by an archway. He hadn’t noticed before, but the roads were crawling with demons, all bearing the same expression: anger and disgust. He felt a fresh wave of fear wash over him. With such a low HP, he’d have to be careful not to cause any trouble. Ducking into a narrow alleyway, Shobai headed to the busiest part of the town–the bazaar. If he was going to find a job, it would be there.  

After making his rounds, one stall stood out in particular: a meat skewer shop, run by an elderly ogre. She looked frail, and appeared to be struggling with inventory. With Shobai’s experience in customer service and restaurant prep, this was just the job he was suited for. Plus if he did a good job, he could earn tips from the patrons. 

Excuse me. Shobai said. 

No humans! The woman plugged her nose and shooed him away. Too smelly. Ugly. Weak. Bad for business. Shobai felt his self-esteem disintegrate with each insult. Forget about a job, she didn’t even want to look at him.

The rest of the market was no better. And after numerous, soul-sucking rejections, two things became abundantly clear. One: Vastians didn’t like humans… or each other, it seemed. And two: He really, really needed a bath. 

By lunch time, Shobai had worked his way through all the shops in the bazaar. Fighting hunger, he questioned if he would ever find work. Was it too late to return to the castle? Would he have to resort to stealing just to survive?

Breaks over, back to work! A voice called from just outside of town.

Looking over, Shobai could make out a large field full of monsters and demons. Were they working the field? With a surge of energy, Shobai hurried over to the crowd. The air filled with scents of cinnamon and something similar to matcha. Just what kind of farm was this? 

The voice came from a fox woman with strong hands, long black hair, and a beautiful smile. She was hiring laborers to help pick tea leaves for the upcoming moonlight festival. 

Hi. Shobai said. I know I’m a human, but–

Pay is 20 bronz per day. The woman said. When can you start?

Shobai quickly accepted, and in seconds, was thrust into an assembly line of harvesters. The laborers–mostly lizardfolk, insectoids, and ogres–reluctantly kept their distance. His job was to ensure that everyone and every plant was well hydrated. A waterboy.

The sun beat down on Shobai, turning the vast field into a shimmering furnace. Sweat trickled down his brow as he worked, stinging his eyes, but he pressed on. 

After finishing a row of plants, Shobai turned to the laborers. Filling a tray of water flasks, he made his way through the crowd, where he was met with many suspicious glares. 

Can a human be trusted? One laborer said to another. 

Even outside of the city, Shobai was an outcast. Still, he had to try his best. He moved even faster through the crowd, offering water to any and everyone. And in doing so, he bumped into a towering lizardman with scales the color of emeralds. 

Water. The lizardman said. 

Yes, sir. Shobai fumbling through the flasks. Though the lizardman spoke in a gruff and surly tone, he carried a warmth that reminded Shobai of an old friend. Following his example, a few ogres approached him for water.

The lizardman turned to Shobai. What calls you to Vastian, human?

Shobai contemplated how to respond. Should he tell the truth? That he was summoned by the Demon Lord’s daughter to defeat the King of the North only to be abandoned shortly after for being too weak. Or that this was the only job that he could find because he was human. Because he was an outcast. A failure? And yet…

I’m just passing through.

I am Bazi from the Isles of Mane. The man smiled half-heartedly. My tribe is new to this land. Bazi knew what it felt like to be an outsider. Most of the laborers were sojourners and runaways themselves.

Shobai Ito. Nice to meet you. 

Do not concern yourself with them. The lizard man leaned in close. Trust is slow to heal, especially with your kind.

My kind? Shobai’s chest tightened. What exactly was the issue between humans and monsters in this world and why was everyone avoiding him? 

Where will you go next? Bazi continued. 

I don’t know. I guess, here for a few days and then North.

The Citadel? Bazi asked, his face darkened.

Shobai nodded. If that’s where the King is. The man choked at the mention of the wicked King of the North. Most people spend their entire lives running away from him, human or demon. Did he have a death wish?

Do you know how to get there? Shobai continued, oblivious. 

Even with an adventurer party, many dangers befall the path. The King and the Elemental Church are too d…

Enough! A lizard woman said and grabbed Bazi. A silent fear hung on her expression.

Alright, dear. Bazi collected his supplies and leaned in close to Shobai once again. Head through the flatlines to Behemoth–about a week’s journey north on foot. Then you’ll understand. Thanks for the water, Shobai.

Wait! Shobai called out after Bazi. I have one more question.