The Eudor forest grew darker, and a fine drizzle began to fall, turning the walking trail into the slick, muddy mess Raga despised above all else. They finally reached an old cave whose entrance was blocked by a pile of massive boulders. It was their only available shelter.

"Damn, the entrance is sealed," Raga complained. He walked up to the boulder blocking the cave mouth. "Naria, can you help me push this?"

Naria tried pushing, but the weight was far too heavy. Suddenly, from the shadows deep inside the cave, a short figure with a thick beard and coarse, bark-like skin emerged, a massive battle-axe slung across his shoulder. It was Grom—a dwarf with a sharp yet weary gaze.

Raga took a step back. "Who are you? Don't come any closer!"

"Calm down, human," Grom’s voice rasped like grinding stones. "I'm just a wandering dwarf who's tired of running from slave hunters."

Raga stared hard at the dwarf's face. His eyes went wide. "Wait... Foreman Grom? You're the site supervisor from the apartment building I worked at yesterday?!"

Grom spat onto the dirt, looking thoroughly annoyed. "What supervisor? My name is Grom! And you, ridiculous human, why are you staring at me like I'm a debt collector?"

Raga rubbed his eyes. His face, his mustache, even the way he spat on the dirt—it was an exact replica of his obnoxious boss! "This has got to be a system glitch!" Raga screamed mentally.

[System: Warning! The character Grom is an original entity of this world. The fact that he resembles your construction supervisor in Indonesia is merely proof that the universe has a terrible sense of humor and was lazy at designing new face models. Please proceed.]

Raga let out a long, heavy sigh. "Whatever."

Grom grunted, then pointed at the damaged cave entrance. "That stone door collapsed during a minor tremor. If you want inside, you need precise earth magic to fuse it back together. But I doubt you two can manage that."

Raga smirked. "Precision? Earth magic?"

He stepped up to the cave wall. Raga closed his eyes, feeling the "vibrations" the system had taught him. He imagined he was grouting cracks in an apartment wall. With his bizarre yellow rubber gloves, he gently touched the stone.

Zing!

The dirt around the fractures softened like wet concrete, and Raga "patched" it with a series of highly skilled hand motions—just like a mason smoothing out wall plaster. Within ten seconds, the stones fused back together, smooth and solid.

Grom stared in absolute shock. His axe nearly slipped from his grip. "What... what did you do? That wasn't standard earth magic! That is... that is flawless structural masonry! Where on earth did you learn to bind elements together so cleanly?"

"Five years of on-site field practice," Raga replied casually.

[System: Raga, you just flexed your 'Pro-Level Plasterer Skill'. Grom is stunned. Grom grants status: 'Respect'. Mission Progress: 4%.]

"Listen, Grom," Naria stepped forward, her expression earnest. "I am Princess Naria. We are fighting to restore the throne of Eudor. If we win, I promise to abolish the dwarf-hunting laws across the entire kingdom. Dwarves will never be hunted as slaves again."

Grom looked at Naria, his eyes welling up. For generations, his people had lived in hiding, hunted down like wild game by corrupt Eudor nobles. That glimmer of hope, however small, felt like an oasis in a desert for Grom.

"Are you serious, Princess?" Grom asked, his voice trembling.

"By the honor of my crown," Naria answered firmly.

Grom bowed deeply, then straightened up, gripping his battle-axe tight. "Then you've got my axe. And... ugh, you, strange cement man. I need someone who can actually fix everything those rebels destroy. I'm coming with you."

"Alliance formed," Raga muttered.

[System: Congratulations! You have recruited Grom the Dwarf (Category: Support/Tank). Your team now consists of: A princess who needs protection, a dwarf who wants freedom, and a laborer who just wants to go home. This team makes zero sense. I am giving your party composition an F rating.]

Raga scoffed. "S.I.N.I., if you were a human, I'd kick you all the way into another dimension."

"So," Grom eyed Raga inquisitively. "You said earlier I look like a 'supervisor'? Is that something great in your homeland?"

Raga suppressed a laugh. "Oh, extremely great, Grom. A supervisor is the most beloved person on a construction site, especially when they're handing out paychecks. We all deeply... respect him."

Grom nodded proudly. "Hmm, I like the sound of that. From now on, call me Foreman Grom!"

[System: Raga, you just triggered entirely unnecessary comedy dialogue. Grom now aspires to be a 'Foreman'. Congratulations, you have successfully increased your own mental burden.]

"Damn you, system," Raga grimaced.

That night inside the cave, the three of them sat gathered around a small campfire. Raga shared his remaining stale bread, Naria spoke of her luxurious childhood before the war, and Grom spun tales of legendary subterranean mines.

Raga looked at the two of them, then down at the dim, glowing system screen. For the first time, a mission that had started out solely about a "chest of gold" began to feel a little more human. Though, of course, he still very much wanted that gold.

"Regardless," Raga muttered, staring into the flames, "when we win this, I'm demanding a bigger share of the gold for recruiting this free-loading foreman."

"In your dreams, Cement Man!" Grom barked with a laugh, filling the previously chilly cave with the sound of genuine laughter.

Raga smiled. This project might be completely insane, but at least he had a solid crew—even if one of them was an exceptionally chatty foreman.