Party of Five, Please Don’t Die

Chapter Thirteen: Party of Five, Please Don’t DieMorning is a promise. Sometimes, it’s a threat.Morning arrived right on schedule—as mornings do.The sun was already blazing over the port of Sarimanok, roosters were screaming like they had personal vendettas, and somewhere in town, the spirit rooster itself was probably stretching its wings in smug, mythological approval.Chaos. Comfortable. Familiar.I braced myself anyway.Today was the day Tina—chaotic fox-woman, Acting Guild Master, and walking emotional hazard—would introduce me to the adventurers brave (or desperate) enough to escort me into the Forest of Amihan.Which meant the shop couldn’t close.I stood behind the counter, issuing instructions like I was about to leave for war—which, statistically speaking, I kind of was.“Okay,” I said, pointing decisively. “The shop stays open. You—” I looked at Marikit. “—my trusted partner—will handle customer service while I’m out doing market research.”Marikit straightened immediately, eyes sharp, posture perfect in her indigo overalls.“And this,” I continued, gesturing toward the blue-feathered presence perched smugly near the cash box, “is Kapitan. He’s your assistant.”Kapitan puffed up his chest, his cobalt feathers gleaming.“Don’t feed him too many crackers,” I added. “He gets opinionated.”An indignant SQUAWK echoed through the shop, loud enough to rattle the spice jars.Unfair accusation, the bracelet translated helpfully into my skull. I get opinionated when ignored, not fed. Also, you smell like fear and cheap deodorant.Marikit didn’t even flinch.“Yes po!” she said confidently, nodding like she’d just been entrusted with a nuclear launch code. “I will make sure the customers behave. And that Kapitan doesn't eat the inventory.”She smiled—bright, capable, steady.Completely unaware of the part where I might not come back with all my limbs intact. If she knew I was about to risk getting eaten, poisoned, cursed, or mildly inconvenienced to death, she’d absolutely call me an idiot.And she’d be right.“Kapitan,” I said, softer now, leaning close to the bird. “I’ll be counting on you. Watch over her.”Kapitan flicked his tail once, solemn as a general accepting command.Go, peddler, the thought echoed. Try not to die. It ruins the profit margins.I grabbed my satchel—packed with power banks, solar chargers, first aid kits, and enough instant noodles to feed an army—and stepped out the door.The IntroductionThe Guildhall loomed ahead of me, its scarred doors judging my life choices from twenty paces away. Standing there, my nerves buzzed like a nest of sugar-high wasps.“Coming in!” I called—half warning, half self-encouragement.Inside, the guild’s common room was unchanged: dim, dusty, and steeped in the scent of spilled ale, sweat, and broken dreams.Tina stood behind the counter, posture perfect, expression glowing with the unsettling confidence of someone who’d just won an argument with fate.“Right on time, Mister Pepito,” she sang, her fox ears twitching happily. “Allow me to introduce your escort party!”She swept an arm outward with theatrical flair toward a table in the corner.“These are some of our finest remaining assets. And yes,” she added flatly, “they are all currently sober. Which is a miracle in itself.”Four people stood up.“Our party name is Alimpatak,” the blond guy at the front said. “It means ‘sudden impact’ in an old dialect.”[BEP CONSULTANT LOG:][Etymology check… ‘Alimpatak’ also implies a whirlwind or a state of confusion. Given the current roster, the latter is more accurate.]The blond guy stepped forward, wearing a familiar, easy grin.“You’re the guy who sold me a lighter!” I blurted.He blinked—then laughed, resting a hand on the hilt of a well-worn kalis sword. “You remember?”“How could I forget?” I said. “You started everything. You’re the reason I’m in this mess.”“Merchants never forget their first,” he said, clapping my shoulder with a weight that felt like an anchor. “I’m Tak. Welcome to the madness, Pepito.”He turned to the others.“Alright,” Tak said. “Meet the rest of the impact.”Padre Dakila “Daks” Mabini — The Raging SaintImagine a priest possessed by a gym rat who decided the best way to bless people was through blunt-force trauma. His burgundy robes strained heroically over muscles that violated several natural laws. He carried a mace and shield that looked less like weapons and more like municipal infrastructure.[BEP ANALYSIS:][Class: Paladin / Brawler][Strength: Extreme.][Faith: Questionable.][Note: He has more Gains than Grace.]Salumina “Mina” Puyat — The Sleepy SorceressA half-elf wrapped in oversized robes, eyes perpetually half-lidded—like she was seconds from either falling asleep or accidentally rewriting reality. She smelled faintly of lavender and quiet, dangerous magic. She held a staff that looked like it was made of driftwood and starlight.[BEP ANALYSIS:][Mana Levels: Fluctuating.][Sleep Status: Critical.][Warning: Do not startle. Insomniac mages are prone to casting Fireball instead of Alarm when grumpy.]Miyara “Yara” Likan — The Lycan RangerWolf ears. Golden eyes. A grin that promised both charm and teeth. She wore leather armor that looked lived-in, and she moved with liquid grace, like the dusty floorboards had learned better than to complain.[BEP ANALYSIS:][Agility: S-Tier.][Perception: Maxed.][Note: User, your heart rate spiked by 15% upon visual confirmation of the wolf ears. Please maintain professional decorum. Simping is not a survivable trait in the Amihan Forest.]“You’re a Lycan?!” I whispered, my inner nerd screaming.“Yup!” Yara chirped, her tail thumping happily against a chair leg. “Awoo included upon request. Costs extra.”Tak glanced at me. “You okay, man?”“I’m fine,” I muttered, adjusting my hoodie. “I’ve just… ascended spiritually.”“Some clients refuse jobs with Lycans,” Tak said evenly, watching my reaction. “We don’t.”“Uncultured behavior,” I replied immediately. “Diversity is our strength. Or whatever HR says back home.”Yara beamed, canines glinting. “Exactly! I handle daggers, shortbow, tracking… and tactical retreats.”Daks laughed, a sound deep enough to rattle mugs. “She’s fast. Especially when running away.”Tak clapped his hands. “Alimpatak—motto?”“In with impact, out with a boom!” they chorused.“Clean work, dirty jokes, everyone comes home!” Yara added.“I’m ready,” I said, looking at the door. Then, quieter: “Ish.”Tina clapped once—sharp as a pistol crack. “Introductions done! You leave in one hour. Don’t forget your offerings for the forest spirits. Pepito, your Ginto coins have cleared. The Alimpatak are yours for three days. My advice?”She leaned close, eyes gleaming.“Don’t die. It’s bad for the guild’s Yelp rating.”[Motivational quotient: Brutal but effective.]The Field TripWe took a small boat—a patched banca named Matanglawin—across the bay to the edge of the forest.The harbor wind carried the taste of salt and rust. Sarimanok shrank behind us—roofs dissolving into a golden haze.“So,” Tak said casually, rowing with effortless strength. “This mission—herb gathering, right? But you’re paying premium. What’s the catch? Usually, merchants hire us to guard wagons, not walk in circles.”“Market research,” I said honestly. “I need to see what adventurers use. What breaks. What’s missing. I can’t sell you better gear if I don’t know why the old gear sucks.”“Ha! My boots break,” Tak said. “Every three months. The soles peel off. Fix that and you’ll be rich.”“I’ll try,” I grinned. “Waterproof adhesive is on the list.”Yara tilted her head, watching me. “So... you’re a spy? For the industry?”“Entrepreneur,” I corrected. “Paying you well to be my focus group.”Padre Dakila chuckled. “A holy focus group. Amen.”By late afternoon, we reached the shore. Mist rose over the horizon. The Forest of Amihan shimmered green and gold, humming with unseen magic. The trees were massive—Balete trees with roots like tangled snakes, towering mahogany, and ferns the size of cars.[Ambient mana surge detected. Anchor-001 forest confirmed. Proceed with caution.]Tak checked a worn map. “Eastwood section. We hike till sundown. Yara, scout ahead. Mina, Pepito, middle formation. Padre, rear guard.”Yara vanished into the trees, light as mist.By sundown, the forest was singing—crickets, leaves, and unseen things whispering. Tak picked a clearing near a stream.“We camp here,” he announced.I crouched beside them as Tak gathered wood.“Alright, merchant,” Tak grinned. “Show us your magic. Light her up.”I pulled out the stormproof lighter.Click-FWSSHH.The jet flame caught the damp kindling instantly.Tak whistled. “Still can’t get over that lighter, bro.”Padre Dakila leaned close, reverent. “If you sold these in the Capital to the Holy Orders, you’d drown in gold. Lighting the sacred incense in the wind is a nightmare.”I laughed it off, but Mina’s sleepy eyes gleamed with curiosity.Then—grrrrrrk.Yara’s stomach growled loud enough to scare a squirrel.“It’s ration time!” Tak announced.Their packs offered stale jerky, petrified bread that could double as a brick, and cheese that looked cursed.[Warning: Nutritional value minimal. Morale value catastrophic.]“Here,” Yara said, offering me half her jerky. “Eat. You’re skinny.”“Thanks,” I smiled. “But I’ve got something better.”I reached into my phone. Tap. Tap. Swipe.Light shimmered.Out came five steaming Styrofoam containers of Adobo, sticky rice cakes (Biko) wrapped in banana leaves, instant La Paz Batchoy (noodle soup), Choc-Nut bars, and a hissing thermos of hot coffee.Everyone froze.“You have... an item box?” Mina whispered, fully awake now.“Something like that,” I said. “Welcome to Pepito’s Traveling Pantry. Free samples, honest reviews required.”The smell broke them. The scent of soy sauce, vinegar, and garlic cut through the damp forest air.Tak slurped the noodles like a man reborn. “Bro, in the Capital they charge five Pilak a bowl for this! And it’s hot? How is it still hot?”Padre Dakila tried the Biko and moaned. “Sweetness of paradise! The texture... it is chewy yet yielding!”Yara demolished the adobo. “Pepito, you’re a blessing from the kitchen gods. Can we keep him? Tak, can we keep him?”“It’s just home cooking,” I said, laughing.Mina took a bite of Choc-Nut—and froze. “This... tastes like the pastries of Gloriam, but purer. No vanity, no gold dust. And you say you’re just a merchant?”“A hungry one.”Laughter rippled around the fire. Even Mina almost smiled.[Party morale: 100%. User status: Beloved. Efficiency optimal.]“Good job, BEP,” I whispered.The forest whispered back—leaves rustling, crickets crooning, the fire crackling like a heartbeat. For one rare evening, there were no debts, no politics, no secrets. Just food, laughter, and the warmth of belonging under an old sky.The WatchTak rose, stretching. “I’ll take first watch. Try not to snore.”The flames sank lower, shadows lengthening like patient sentinels. I lay back, eyes tracing the canopy as BEP’s soft glow pulsed like a second moon in my palm.The fire thinned into low, orange threads. The forest was too quiet.Tak’s eyes stayed fixed on the dark—steady, patient, a predator pretending to be prey. Every crack of a distant twig made the air pulse with suspicion.I couldn't sleep. I padded over quietly, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders like an oversized shawl.“Can’t sleep,” I whispered.Tak didn’t look away from the treeline. “Yeah, I figured. First real night in the dark does that. Sit. Just keep your ears open.”We shared the kind of silence that only lives deep in the wild—raw, watchful, and heavy.“So... why’d you become an adventurer?” I asked quietly. “You don’t seem like the type who chases glory.”Tak chuckled, a low, rough sound. “Glory? Nah. Glory doesn’t pay for your sister’s medicine. I just... didn’t want to be another farmer who lived and died in the same muddy corner of the world.”A pause.“And maybe... I wanted someone to notice me.”I smirked in the dark. “You mean Mina.”“Don’t start.” Even in the faint glow of the embers, I could see Tak’s ears redden. “She’s smarter than all of us combined. Every time I try to say something nice, I end up talking about... sword maintenance. Or logistics.”“Classic,” I grinned. “So, love and danger. The usual combo.”“Pretty much,” Tak sighed. “Besides, not everyone is blessed with an inventory skill like yours, pare. Those are one-in-a-hundred-thousand rare. Rich guilds hoard ‘em. For the rest of us, it’s what we can carry on our backs.”I nodded, glancing at my satchel where my phone was charging on a solar bank. “Guess that makes me lucky, huh?”[Luck is a statistically unreliable variable, Pepito.]BEP’s voice was a soft text-scroll on my screen.I laughed—but the sound died halfway out of my throat. My gaze drifted past Tak, toward the edge of the camp.There. A shimmer.It was like moonlight on water, floating three feet above the grass. The outline of a little girl—barefoot, her hair flowing upward as if she were submerged. She was faint, translucent, and watching us.She tilted her head, curious. A quiet, silvery dust hung in the air around her.I blinked, my heart stopping. “Tak... do you see—”HUSH.Tak didn’t see the girl. He was already moving. In one fluid motion, he raised a single finger to his lips, his entire body stiffening. He wasn’t breathing. He was listening.The spirit girl looked at me, her expression turning from curiosity to a deep, profound sadness. She raised a small, shimmering hand—not in a wave, but a warning.Then she vanished.At the exact same instant, a low growl vibrated up from the earth. It wasn’t a sound one heard—it was a pressure one felt, a vibration that made the campfire’s light flicker and dance.Tak’s hand was already on the hilt of his Kalis. His voice was a deadly whisper. “Yara. Daks. Up. Now.”Padre Daks rolled from his blanket, his mace and shield in his hands before his feet even touched the dirt. Yara was on her feet a second later, bow already strung, an arrow nocked.“Mina!” Tak hissed. “Pepito—wake her, now!”I turned, shaking the sleeping mage’s shoulder. “Mina—hey—wake up, there’s—”“...just five more... chocolates...” she mumbled, half-asleep.“MINA!”Her eyes flew open, blazing with a faint blue light. “Okay, okay, I’m up! What—” She grabbed her staff, the air crackling around her as she scanned the treeline.BEP’s icon was flashing on my phone, a frantic, pulsing red. The calm, digital voice was gone, replaced by a sharp, synthesized alarm.[WARNING. WARNING.][HIGH-TIER ENTITY DETECTED. SCANNING...]Two pairs of eyes opened in the darkness beyond the firelight. They were red, glowing, and far too high off the ground.[BEP ANALYSIS: Entity locked.][Classification: Shadow Longstride (x2).][Level: Crystal-tier.][Primary trait: Carnivorous pack hunters. They eat magic. And people.][Estimated survival chance: 10%.][User, I suggest you stop being an NPC and start being a problem.]Tak drew his sword. The steel sang in the quiet forest.“Alimpatak!” he roared. “Formation!”

Author's Note:And the cozy camping trip is officially over.Shadow Longstride: Think of a wolf, but lanky, made of shadows, and it moves like a glitch in the video game.The Spirit Girl: Who was she? A ghost? A forest spirit? Or something else entirely?Next Chapter: Combat. Pepito realizes that selling lighters is easy; using them to fight shadow monsters is hard.- Author