Crowbar was the first to stand up, moving toward the left. “I’m proficient in unarmed combat, and I’m also an excellent grenadier.” As he spoke, he placed eight pitch-black hand grenades on the table, then casually picked up a nearby glass and hurled it. (Mobile access:){Hand-typed/First release bar} The glass struck the wall about five or six meters ahead, but instead of shattering, it bounced off and flew out the adjacent window. This display showcased his exquisite control over force and his judgment of the environment, proving him worthy of calling himself a bombardier.

“Next,” Crowbar shrugged toward the others.

What followed was clearly pre-arranged within the Symbiosis Society. Most individuals demonstrated their remote attack talents, much like Supergirl… though anyone could see the display was largely superficial flash. The final five people all looked toward Fang Senyan, anticipating something surprising from him. But just as Crowbar had predicted, Fang Senyan merely shrugged, muttered a few curses under his breath, and grumbled in annoyance:

“Damn it, I prefer rushing in and hacking those miserable wretches until they’re a bloody mess… I don’t have any decent ranged attack skills to show off.”

The moment Fang Senyan finished speaking, the flintlock pistol "Ambition," hidden in the Nightmare Imprint's storage space, let out a flash of angry light across its dark surface, projecting an aura of petulance…

Crowbar sighed. “Regrettably, Sailor, everyone needs to contribute to the team’s objective. Since you offer nothing in terms of damage output, you’ll have to shoulder the heavy responsibility of being the first to lure the Troll out with bait… Actually, you don't need to be so nervous. Your task is simply to draw that foolish monster out beyond the lair, a full kilometer away! You might not even need to participate in the main fight afterward; it’s that straightforward. Relax, pal.”

Fang Senyan looked stunned:

“Wait! Why move the trap a full kilometer away from the Troll?”

Crowbar shrugged again. “According to intelligence relayed by the Chief, Trolls prefer sleeping directly on the ground, so vibrations through the earth are easily detected by it… Unfortunately, digging a trap deep enough to hold this massive monster isn't a small undertaking, so the Chief repeatedly stressed that one kilometer is the minimum safe distance we need to guarantee our safety. It absolutely cannot be shortened.”

As he finished speaking, Crowbar walked over and clapped Fang Senyan on the shoulder, determined to lock down this arrangement while the momentum was with him. For Crowbar, securing the affiliation of Fang Senyan and Dash was paramount because both would play critical roles: Dash was the primary heavy hitter, and Fang Senyan, calling himself Sailor, was the one who would face the greatest danger! Crowbar had to ensure minimal casualties for his team to increase the Symbiosis Society’s chances of achieving the ultimate world objective in this reality!

“H, N!” Fang Senyan waved his hands agitatedly, pacing back and forth inside the wooden cabin. “Crowbar, this is murder! You’ve assigned me a job far more perilous than pulling the fangs from a Black Mamba!”

“Calm down, my friend, you need to settle down and listen to me.” Crowbar placed a hand very patiently on Fang Senyan’s shoulder. “We will all back you up. The Troll isn’t scary; its cumbersome 2,200-pound body poses no threat to you, as long as you keep moving.”

The reality was certainly not as easy as Crowbar painted it. While the Troll was heavy and slow, that did not mean it lacked threat. Considering the length of its arms plus the makeshift club it wielded, the Troll’s attack radius could exceed six meters, and there was no guarantee it wouldn't throw its weapon. Imagine the consequences of being struck by a log four or five meters long and as thick as a washbasin! Furthermore, its throwing speed, enhanced by the Troll’s brute strength, exceeded 60 kilometers per hour. Add to that the terrain conditions and the chance of unexpected incidents—one mistake meant lethal consequences!

In truth, Fang Senyan was not at all surprised by the role Crowbar assigned him. In fact, ever since Crowbar had started trying to recruit him, he understood what this calculating individual intended. But the reason he dared to remain and step into Crowbar’s rhythm was, naturally, his overwhelming self-confidence.

That confidence stemmed from a specific number.

30 points.

The maximum Stamina Fang Senyan could reach at his peak!

A full 30 points of Stamina!

Plus the formidable innate ability, Toughness!

Even if the Troll possessed terrifying arm strength and its physical damage output was certain to be extreme—a hit capable of instantly killing any Contractor, including Crowbar—Fang Senyan absolutely did not believe he was fragile enough to fall to that level. A full 300 Health Points combined with 37% external damage absorption, plus the 25 damage reduction granted by the Toughness talent, translated to the Troll needing to deal a theoretical attack damage exceeding 516 points just to instantly kill him. Such terrifying single-burst damage, by all common sense, should not appear in this difficulty setting.

Furthermore, the existing plot background of this world emphasized that Hogwarts professors could easily subdue an adult Troll. If the Troll could frequently generate such horrifying damage values, even with zero magic resistance, the threat to a professor’s life would be immense. In that case, the narrative would certainly not use such words as "easily subdue," much like few people in the current world would claim to "easily subdue" a cobra.

However, while Fang Senyan didn't mind playing along with Crowbar’s “game,” it didn't mean he would follow Crowbar’s script exactly. At least up to this point, Fang Senyan intended to keep his secrets hidden. And if he were to accept the high-risk job of "luring the Troll," then Crowbar, who provided the job, would need to offer sufficient benefits in return. If he agreed too readily, the outcome would be one of two things: A, others would immediately see him as a fool and a stepping stone; or B, the scrutiny that had been fixed on Dash would shift entirely onto him, exposing all his secrets until they were laid bare, clear and visible like the various female primates on Edison's photos… After Fang Senyan firmly rejected Crowbar’s fourth attempt at persuasion, the man finally began to relent, agreeing to provide Fang Senyan with “a little help.” This loosening of the grip was good news for Fang Senyan, much like the realization that a tiny crack in a massive dam, which might take years to form, could potentially widen and cause a total breach in just a few months.

Crowbar’s fifth attempt at persuasion succeeded.

He felt both immense relief and a twinge of pain.

To secure this damned yellow man as bait, he had paid a considerable price, totaling the following: One unit of 1500 Universal Points for a dose of Aspirin (Concentrated), which instantly restores 40 Health Points upon use. This drug also carries the trait: The same effect cannot be applied again for 300 seconds after use.

There was also a 3000 Universal Point purchase credit on the Troll’s bounty after it was killed (meaning, if Fang Senyan wanted to purchase any loot dropped by the Troll, he could take items valued up to 3000 without spending cash. If an item was valued over 3000 Universal Points, the excess would need to be paid in cash. If Fang Senyan chose not to purchase anything, this amount would be converted and paid to him as 1500 Universal Points). With the two most crucial roles—heavy hitter and bait—settled, the rest of the arrangements fell naturally into place. This hastily assembled seven-person squad quickly departed, moving along the perimeter of the Black Forest toward another hill… That was where the Troll’s lair lay. The Symbiosis Society’s mysterious emblem had already transmitted information to Crowbar, pinpointing the exact location.

It was a pitch-black night in a pitch-black forest. The sunlight had been bright during the day, but now a light drizzle had begun to fall. Crowbar walked ahead of the group. When the wind, mixed with raindrops, hit them head-on, a tangible chill swept over them. The other Contractors of the Symbiosis Society involuntarily shivered. A fellow named Grym muttered a curse about the wretched weather, then coughed and spat a mouthful of thick phlegm into a nearby bush.

Then he froze, because pressed against his throat was the cold, black muzzle of a gun. The gun’s owner was Dash.

The arrogant and powerful man ground out through clenched teeth in a rapid, low voice: “Find the phlegm you just spat out, and bury it a foot underground, immediately!! Otherwise, I guarantee the next thing ejected from your windpipe will be your lung tissue and blood!”

The atmosphere instantly became taut. The members of the Symbiosis Society immediately entered a state of high alert. Fang Senyan hesitated for a moment. He had even detected a trace of near-frenzy in Dash’s voice just now. The catalyst that could make Dash so suddenly aggressive and neurotic could not be ignored!

Therefore, Fang Senyan silently took a few steps back, positioning himself precisely behind and beside Dash, demonstrating his stance through action.

A stalemate enveloped everyone present. Of course, Grym, the least affected, stammered:

“Hey, buddy, I just spat some phlegm… If that bush I was aiming at holds some special significance for you, I can apologize immediately. But please take the barrel away from my throat first, okay? Believe me, this feeling isn't pleasant.”

(To be continued)