(Monk Monastery - Occupation: RoT) (Zero)

  Two Days Later

  Steel warhammer, rope, two packs of stacked smoked meat, canteen, a stack of forty monastery teleport scrolls, a stack of twelve City of Bell teleport scrolls, a stack of two Durmax teleport scrolls, damaged plate legs, and plate armor. Stepping back with his hands at his sides, Zero surveys his inventory, each item spread out on the bed he had woken up in not long ago. Shaking his head, he tries not to stress too much. He can manage if he has his teleports and weapon; anything else he can grind out or buy. He wants to leave as soon as possible.

  Last night, the teleport block dissipated. Had one of the girls not attempted to teleport to town to resupply and succeeded, they might not have discovered this so quickly. When the girl appeared near the kitchen, holding a package of beef, Vodka (who happened to be passing by) nearly jumped out of his skin. He rushed to Zero’s room to deliver the news, catching him just before he was about to climb into bed. In the wake of the news, Zero had slept fitfully, rising early to pack his things.

  A knock at Zero’s half-open door caught his attention. Viktor stood in the doorway, leaning against the heavy oak frame. As always, he wore an infectious warm smile. “Morning.”

  Zero nodded, a smile creeping across his face. “Morning.”

  “I hope you enjoyed your stay. Sad to see Vodka’s friends leave so soon, but I suspect we'll meet again.”

  “It’s been a vacation, really.” Zero dropped his gaze to the bed. “Made me forget the reality of the situation. Part of me doesn’t want to leave.” A sigh escaped Zero as he locked eyes with Viktor. “But I have responsibilities.”

  Viktor chuckled. “A youngling talking about responsibilities?”

  “You’re, what, twenty-seven?” Zero asked. “I guess you can say that since I'm nineteen.”

  “Twenty-six,” Viktor corrected. “I’ll be twenty-seven in two months and four days.”

  “Ah, a January baby; same month as my best friend.” Zero turned to the bed as his fingers glided across the items. His touch sent each one to his inventory.

  “Interesting…” Viktor said, tapping his fingers on the door. He waited until the items disappeared and Zero straightened up from the bed before speaking again. “Hey, can I ask you a favor?”

  Zero turned to the white-haired man, debating how to answer. After the hospitality everyone had shown him, it shouldn’t even be a question. “What's up?”

  Pushing himself from the doorframe, Viktor sighed. “You’re allowed to refuse, but as you know, Shizer woke up two days ago and has been recovering in private.” Stating the obvious, Viktor continued, “Shizer wanted to speak to you, Smokey, and Carp. At this point, you’re the only one still here.”

  Zero agreed to meet with Shizer before catching up with Smokey and Carp (who were already packed and waiting at the front doors, ready to head out for Frauw). Before Viktor left, the two exchanged a few more words of thanks.

  Entering Shizer’s room, Zero found Vodka, Aasha, Viktor, Anthony, and Chad saying their goodbyes to Shizer, who was seated in a chair next to a small fireplace. The group took their leave, nodding at Zero before exiting the room without a word, each evidently taking their roles as reverent monastery guests seriously. There was a shuffling of footsteps and gear before the door creaked shut. Then, the only sound in the room was the faint crackle of the fireplace. Zero approached the young monk, whose recovering face he had only seen lost in sleep. It wasn’t until Zero met the depths of Shizer’s eyes that he felt like the universe revolved around this room. Now the others’ reverence made sense.

  Shizer gently tapped the rough cherry wood floor with his slipper-clad foot. Zero moved closer to the other side of the fire pit, opposite Shizer, whose eyes followed him as he leaned against the wall. The wisdom in those eyes was perplexing, even a tad unnerving. Zero felt unworthy, too young to be offered such an audience.

  “It is nice to meet you. Vodka speaks highly of you and your friends. But I wish to hear about you, from you.” Shizer waited a few seconds. “What is your name?”

  “Zero, Zero WAL, also known as Zero the Notorious.” Like his clanmates, Zero used his clan name as a surname, especially for more formal introductions. In such situations, adding one’s other titles didn’t hurt.

  Shizer lightly clapped his palms together. “Ah, so I have another Revolutionary in my presence. Quite a story you three have, and a truly deserved title.”

  Zero's face fell, not just because he was recognized, but because someone had called him a Revolutionary. It was the first time anyone other than his friends and the members of RoT had referred to him that way. The greats of the game, and their titles, overshadowed his own. That said, no one in recent memory had brought RoT to its knees more brutally and taken control of their territory as quickly as the Notorious Three.

  Shizer tilted his head. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No…” Zero broke from his thoughts. “No. Sorry, I was… never called a Revolutionary before.”

  “RoT and the Monks have a complex but mutually beneficial relationship. I have heard many tales from veterans, but none have shown more distress than when they spoke of the Notorious Three.” A dry chuckle escaped Shizer. “Even then, I didn’t believe them before I came face to face with the real deal.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Those who told tales of your exploits expressed that, though the game may be fake, the anger and fear they felt in your wake was real,” Shizer explained. “They described you as evil and hateful, yet respectful. But my aura senses your white room, and I feel your nature contradicts these claims. You know, the opposite of hatred and evil is not love and good, but indifference.” Shizer held out his palms and spread his fingers, mimicking a pair of scales. “The same can be said about the opposite of good. All things seek balance in action; therefore, the only true evil is inaction.”

  Zero attempted to follow along. Although he didn’t understand where Shizer was going with his musings, the young monk’s talk of good and evil reminded him of his mother.

  “Like yin and yang?”

  “Precisely. In this world, balancing occurs when one element manifests in excess. An excess of love may cause overdependence, leading to a weakened soul that hates its fragility. Conversely, an excess of hatred causes one’s soul to harden and think too highly of its fortitude. The reality-drifting Lord Tatter does attempt to warp this balance at times, making this place differ from our real world.” Shizer clapped his palms on his thighs.

  Zero shook his head. “I don't understand.”

  Shizer rose from his chair. Zero noticed the slight curve in his upper spine and the care with which he took each step. His body must hurt from what Vodka had told him. Shizer stepped over to Zero, holding out a hand. “Give me your hand. For now, we will not focus on understanding. Instead, perhaps I can entrust you with a warning after I take a deeper look into your white room.”

  Zero hesitated before placing his palm in Shizer’s. “White room?”

  Shizer closed his eyes. For a few seconds, the crackling of the fire seemed to grow louder. Zero waited for the man to cast a spell, to feel something, but nothing happened. Shizer opened his eyes and returned to his chair. “You are pure love, which is truly a terrifying rarity. But your nature often leans towards evil, which, in an odd way, reassures me.”

  Zero stared blankly at the white-haired man.

  “If it weren’t for this world, perhaps the reactions would have been swapped. However, because of your love, it seems your white room is already corrupted. I suggest you not feed into it.”

  “White room? Corrupted?” Zero pondered. “Are you… telling me not to love?”

  Shizer shook his head. “No. Simply, that’s what this world wants you to be afraid of. But because of Lord Tatter’s influence, beware of those you love when they take their last breath.”

  After their confusing conversation, which leads Zero to limit his love, he needs to find Vodka to understand what he just heard. It wasn’t long before he spotted Vodka sitting at the top of the hill, but as Zero moved in closer, he saw Aasha in his arms. Maybe he can wait to ask Vodka another time. This is their moment, and he shouldn’t interrupt.

  Zero sighs. “Don’t be an asshole, Zero…” He plans to leave as soon as he finishes with Shizer. After all, he has what he needs. He walks back to the front of the building and tears the scroll in half.

  (City of Bell – Occupation: Lit) (Zero)

  The sizzling noise fades as the sun just peeks over the teleport obelisk. As his vision adjusts, he sees a bustling street. There is plenty of buying and selling, with the market echoing that annoying ching noise. It is a smaller market than Cockington or Durmax, but closer in size to Westpoint.

  A squad of Lit hybrids relaxes around the middle fountain, with a few empty wine bottles lining the edge of the stone as they play cards among themselves.

  It’s peaceful, as it should be. Lit took control of the city within the first day of the tournament's release. This is how it should be for the strongest clan that isn’t afraid to be sandwiched between five massive clans. Because the city’s foundation is built alongside a mountain, Zero can catch a glimpse of the southern coast between two buildings, the bluish color shimmering in the distance. Amazing. Zero glances up at the capital’s building turret, wondering what the view would be from there. Turning toward the smell of burning tobacco and chemicals, he spots a familiar face—an upset, tired, friendly face.

  A blond lad with yellowish-green eyes and tattoos running up his left arm. An earring of a de-feathered duck dangles from his left ear, and a nose ring glints in the light. The man withdraws the cigarette from his lips, blowing a light cloud in Zero’s direction. “I’ve been waiting a good hour for you, you muppet,” Hypno says with a slight Cockney accent.

  Zero waves the smoke away from his face, a smile creeping onto his lips. “You know, for a Norwegian who has only been in the UK for a year, I can tell you’re bullshitting that accent.” Hypno shrugs as he lifts his hand. “Eh, it’s practice.” They high-five, their hands sliding off into a fist bump. “We don’t have much time, as we are fifteen minutes late to the council hearing. Let’s talk and walk about what you need to watch out for.”

  They approach the capital building as Zero adjusts to Hypno’s speed. “Hey, I gotta ask, why is it taking so long? You’ve been at it for a minute now.”

  “Well, a lot of it concerns the Dulman clan,” Hypno points out. “Before you five killed them off, there were three factions: those who wanted an alliance, those who wanted nothing to do with us, and those who wanted us dead. Even though we had sixty-two percent in favor, we needed seventy. After the event, the favor dropped to fifty-eight, and nine are considering dipping. That’s where you come in…” Hypno examines his clan mate's features. “A nineteen-year-old with murderous intent. God, this is going to be a challenge.”

  “Would you rather have Christ come?”

  Hypno nods. “I stand corrected.”

  Zero shakes his head. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but unlike Sanity, the king has more power than the council, right? So why doesn’t King Zul make the decision? Shouldn’t Merak be trying to help us?”

  “Nope, I already talked to Merak twice,” Hypno says as he takes his first few steps onto the capital building's steps. “Even though he wanted to help, he entrusted King Zul to make the correct decision.”

  Zero chuckles as he follows Hypno up the steps. “So much for Amos’s student.”

  They enter through the double doors, where a lobby of people speaks to the front desk. “Anything I should worry about?”

  “I’m pretty level-headed, but there are times I wanted to knock those cunts another piss hole. So, I have to say they will try to rile you up to get a reaction; don’t give them that reaction.” Finally making it to another set of double doors, Hypno places his palm on the brass plate. “Oh, and one last thing. They are going to confiscate your weapon, and don’t try to hide anything; the girl has a curse that lets her see into your inventory.”

  “Convenient.”

  As they open the doors, a high-pitched creak echoes across the large room, interrupting a single speaker in the middle of all the desks. At least one hundred council members of high rank, influence, or important status gather behind cramped desks, many rows deep, until the last desk sits short of the king's high lectern.

  King Zul glances up at the two WAL members. His face is shrouded in shadow and slow movements. He appears to be in his early twenties, with brown hair and brown eyes, yet King Zul looks quite adult-like…

  Behind King Zul stands his right-hand man, Merak. A helmet obscures his dark hair and hazel eyes from the rest of the room. One of the very few brazer weapons in the game gleams with a distinct reddish-gray metal shine. Merak’s chosen blade is the brazer claymore.

  Making their way down to the four empty desks in the middle, Zero’s gaze catches a massive sword at the side of the room, where an individual sits on the guard as if the weapon were a chair. Without a doubt, that weapon isn’t there for decoration. Beneath him stand nine others: two girls and seven guys. Their stares… they’re cold. One of the girls vanishes in an instant, only to reappear before him.

  Zero’s and Hypno’s reactions remain indifferent, though Zero is freaking out at her extreme speed.

  The girl smiles as she holds out her palm. A name tag reads Nani Yankers just above the leather patch on her light steel armor. “Weapons?” She sends out a trade request.

  Opening his interface, he accepts, adding his warhammer and the two short blades he had.

  “Nothing else, as I can see…” Yankers questions.

  Locking eyes with her through his interface, he raises his eyebrows. “Take these items, and I’ll drop my inventory.”

  She complies, seemingly not originally intending to, though a sadistic change in her demeanor occurs after she inspects his inventory before dismissing the trade. After doing the same with Hypno, she nods to Zero. “After the end of the trial, I’ll meet with you and return your items.” She moves closer to his ear. “Let’s finish this up; I’m eager to return to Westpoint and fight,” she whispers, and in a flash, she vanishes.

  But this time, Zero can keep an eye on her. He thought she was abnormally fast for someone who had only been stuck in this game for a month. Her strength must be in the high eight-hundreds.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Merak’s helmet vanishes as he coughs into his fist. “You’re late.”

  Zero gazes at the Merak he knows and loves. But the stare he gives isn’t a welcoming one. “Shizer wished to speak to me before I left. It would have been disrespectful to ignore his request after his warm hospitality.”

  “No problem. But because of this, you must wait until the end of our daily affairs before we can address the WAL’s proposition.” Merak gestures to the empty desk next to them. “If you’d please.”

  Hypno and Zero take their places and wait as they discuss the budget, smaller clans introducing labor in different sectors, and land management. Some disturbing talk about a few murder cases and a rape that happened in the last two days is dismissed when a Navy Admiral named Sisbis stands up. He doesn’t say much besides expressing his lack of interest in global issues, with a plan to return only if they worsen. There’s no talk of their war with The Trapline Army and Fools, though there is some concern about Sanity conquering the Latin American clans to the west.

  With a grating sound as the double doors swing open, a man in a trench coat adjusts his neck collar before his duster vanishes into thin air. “Shalom, and apologies for my tardiness. Lieutenants sometimes need their hands held.” After such an entrance, a skullcap appears on the back of his head.

  “You’re alright, General Mamer,” Merak announces. “We are coming to a close anyhow.”

  Mamer chuckles as he makes his way down the steps, stopping at the halfway point. Squeezing between desks, he joins Admiral Sisbis and General Kang. Mamer’s gaze locks on Hypno, accompanied by a smile and a nod. He then notices Zero and offers the same respect before sitting down.

  Mamer is famously known as a master-class strategist, alongside Feef and General Lion of RoT, and General Lolands of Sanity. Unlike Feef, many generals and leaders must develop their skills through grinding; who needs that when they aren't fighting themselves?

  As their discussion comes to an end, Merak directs Zero to his spot and whispers in his ear, “Good luck, mate, they’re rough.” He pulls back the seat behind Zero as he waits.

  Zero taps the magical microphone, and a thud echoes across the room. “My name is Zero the Notorious, and I’m a member of WAL, which was involved in the demise of the entire Dulman clan. I will now take questions and answer to the best of my knowledge. However, I will not expose anything that could harm my clanmates or me.” After finishing his statement, he waits a few seconds before his gaze lands on an individual to the left.

  “Council member Getro,” the blond man says with a gravelly voice, despite his youthful appearance. “I’ve been around a long time in this game, even before the portal-scuti was introduced, and I’ve met many people whom I understood. By people, I mean enemies, friends, and players from different clans, but I could never tell what goes on in any WAL member's head. I would like to know: what goes on in your head?”

  “Right,” Zero replies as he leans closer to the microphone. “Before all this, it was about who we would fight next. I’d hate to speak for WAL as a whole, but that was kind of the plan for the clan at the beginning. We enjoy fighting far more than lore or PVM. But for now, we are just trying to stay out of conflict until this nonsense is over.”

  Getro scoffs at Zero. “You say that after killing Dulman?”

  “If you were in our shoes, you’d understand. It’s them or us,” Zero responds.

  Getro lays down his paper on the desk before sitting.

  Next, a man a few rows up stands, his lighter voice contrasting with the scar running across his eye. “Council member Higgs. My question is: do you enjoy killing?”

  Zero pauses before responding. “Do I enjoy it? No. Like I said previously, I enjoy fighting. I always have, and yes, there is a difference.”

  “Thank you,” Higgs says before sitting.

  A kid around his age stands on the other side of the room. “Council member Kashmir.” A crest on his necklace seems significant to him. “If Lit is in a desperate situation, would it be too much to ask for aid from WAL?”

  Zero sighs. “That's not my call; our leader is Xander. You’d have to ask him. But I’d say no.”

  The crowd begins to murmur.

  “Hear me out! Hear me out!” Zero interjects. “The less WAL is involved with bigger clans, the fewer problems there are likely to be. And that isn’t a threat; it's just caution.”

  “Does that mean you do not trust your own self-restraint?” Kashmir asks.

  “No, it just means we are like salt to a slug. If we are always around you, hell will follow. It’s better for us, as a clan, to start minding our own business and not add to the fire.”

  Kashmir sits.

  Back on the other side, a man with a military crew cut stands in the same row as Council member Getro. “Council member Bum Head,” the man says, clearing his throat. “Talks among the Trapline Army say that after Dulman’s first interaction with you guys, they let you off with a warning. Is this correct?”

  Zero moves closer to the microphone. “That is correct.”

  Bum Head smirks. “So, between then and their deaths, was the trip back to Westpoint premeditated, or was there another reason that might have caused the situation to go sour?”

  Zero already hates the gotcha look on this council member, something he would punch through if allowed. “Premeditated. The threat was too real, and their demands were unacceptable; we would have had to be moved west to a foreign clan that despised us. Sanity would have killed us if we did so.”

  Bum Head’s face drops in shock, as if something didn’t go as planned. “So you’re confirming that your clan massacred another clan that wanted peace in a time of certain death?!”

  The Council erupts for the first time in the meeting as the members discuss among themselves.

  King Zul knocks his small mallet against the wood as he speaks for the first time. “Order! Order!” And just as quickly as the talking began, it ceases. “Bum Head, if you please.”

  Bum Head nods before facing Zero once again. “Did you take a situation…”

  Zero interrupts the annoying man. “Yes, we killed them when they wanted peace. But you’re forgetting the fact that they doxxed us, so trusting them isn’t plausible.” Zero shakes his head at the man. “I don’t understand what the big deal is. Not like you guys liked them either.”

  Another man at the top right of Zero stands. “Council member Cammie. It is true, but the diplomacy between RoT and us could be affected. As you know, we don’t want that.”

  Zero smirks at the prominent Lit leaders. “But war with Fools and the Trapline Army would have been rejected, correct?”

  General Mamer stands. “Wrong. They would have rejected it all they wanted, but in the end, their loyalty to the Trapline Army would have made their so-called diplomacy tactics irrelevant. Trust me, war would have been inevitable.”

  “Okay!?” Zero says, raising his forearms. “So you’re claiming that you all would have had to deal with the Dulman clan anyway! Where is the problem?”

  “Wrong again!” Bum Head counters. “It’s not about the Dulman clan; it’s about your past actions and how you can assure the rest of us that we can trust you!”

  Zero glances at the ground, licking his lips before scanning the room with his eyes. “Simple: you can’t trust us!”

  Gasps and chuckles erupt as Zul threatens to whack him with his mallet again.

  Hypno’s smile widens, but his shaking hand and the snapped pencil tell a different story.

  Bum Head points at Zero. “Explain!”

  “First off, it’s not that you can’t trust us. From the beginning, when we had someone out here trying to make a deal, you all still gave him a hard time. You refused to ally with us, and I don’t blame you; we are the bad guys.”

  A shift in the demeanor of the standing men shrinks as they continue to listen to the WAL member.

  “We Are Lords have been a thorn not just in RoT’s side, but, respectfully, in everyone’s!” Zero states. “It only makes sense that you would hold some grudge against us like you do against Dulman! If you were given ONE opportunity to do so, I guarantee you all would have acted the same way towards us. But here we are… trying to make peace.” Now Zero is the only one smirking. Though he knows the situation is dangerous, he just doesn’t care. “Let's be honest, though!”

  Zero grabs the back of his lectern with both hands as he flexes his muscles. “Let's say you reject us. Okay, we are still in your controlled territory. What are you going to do, kick us out? Kick us out where? To other clans that equally hate us, fear us, and can’t defeat us? No, no, no, you clearly don’t understand; we won't leave! You may occupy that area, but WAL owns it.”

  Silence falls as Zero’s rant leaves the jaws of one hundred council members dropped.

  General Kang chuckles, as do the ten members of the Yankers squad. Zero begins to find humor in his words, not because of the reactions, but the chuckles that soon turn into laughter. It isn’t long before Admiral Sisbis, General Mamer, and a few from the council join in.

  After a few seconds, the room sighs as General Kang stands. “Surely you know that us higher ranks and members involved in daily combat agree with you. Which is why we voted for your alliance.” Kang glances around the room at the council members before another sigh escapes him. “Respectfully, Zero, I think you may have lost a few votes.”

  “Yup!” Hypno says, his face planted in his palm.

  Merak also has his face buried in his palm.

  After a vote, they were correct, and the nine who were considering dropping out voted against them. But it didn’t stop there; a shocking vote from Admiral Sisbis caused support to plummet from fifty-eight to thirty-nine.

  It wasn’t until Zero sat back down next to Hypno that he received a notification in the corner of his vision. Opening his interface and scrolling to the messages, he found a note from Hypno, warning him that if things went south, they needed to get to Sara’s group before Lit did. They could escape by teleporting to the obelisk and heading straight east to the Mask-Off Hotel.

  It was easy to teleport out—if they didn’t get teleport-blocked first. Guess he messed up this time. Fuck! He wasn’t a speaking specialist! Now they would be at war with an entire clan… Fuck!

  Kill everyone…

  Zero’s eyes widened. What was that voice? Moments after scanning the room for the source, he noticed Zul’s mallet smashing the lectern. It felt as if everything else faded away as his heart began to race.

  Zul cracked a smile. “I respect the council’s judgment, and I honor the foundation that built this clan years ago after RoT almost conquered this world. But you must understand that our clan wants nothing to do with WAL. This council isn’t run like Sanity’s or the bigwigs of RoT. Simply put, my word is final. While my judgment might align with the council, I follow my three leaders of the sea and land over my own judgment two out of three times. I overrule this meeting in favor of WAL’s alliance.” Zul smacked the mallet three times as he stood.

  The room erupted in yells and chatter.

  A long sigh escaped Hypno as his forehead hit the desk. “Holy fuck!”

  Zul stood and turned right, heading to the meeting room, with Merak following.

  Zero leaned back, crossing his arms. “I knew we’d do it.”

  “Shut up…” Hypno said, rubbing his palm against his face to clear the corners of his eyes. “I don’t think I've been this stressed my entire life.”

  “So what now?” Zero asked.

  “Well, soon I’ll be in another meeting with them to discuss details and see how much access we will have to boss layers. For now, I’m just going to relax in the lobby.”

  “You don’t need me?”

  Hypno shook his head. “Nope, especially after that.”

  Zero leaned in closer to Hypno. “What am I gonna do then?”

  Hypno moved his head back. “I don’t know… How about you meet up with Sara and the others? After grinding for some gold coins, they wanted to go to the market today.”

  Zero rubbed the back of his hair. “And when are we planning on going home?”

  “Okay, Mr. Questions, probably two days if this next meeting goes smoothly,” Hypno answered.

  “You guys are luckier than a gold ring on a beach.”

  Hypno chuckled. “Fuck you.”

  They jumped as they nearly tipped over the desk they had been sitting on.

  The Yankers girl sent them trade requests. “I’ve never seen Zul overturn the council like that before. It’s mostly because he and his generals are on the same page, but hey, good for you guys. Though it would have been fun to battle with some WAL members.”

  Zero received his steel warhammer back from the woman. “Right…” He turned to Hypno. “I’m heading out later…”

  Yankers pouted as she watched the young man leave.

  Zero’s peace of mind in the lobby was quickly interrupted as a man yelled his name from down the hall.

  Merak jogged to the WAL member, waving his hand. His happy demeanor shifted as he grabbed Zero’s shoulder. “Holy fucking shit, dude. First off, no one is as lucky as you. Second, I have no power when it comes to decision-making. And lastly, it’s so good to see you, brother!” Merak wrapped his arms around Zero.

  Zero embraced the hug without saying a word. “So nice seeing you too, though it felt like you were giving me the cold shoulder.”

  Merak broke the hug. “Most of the council knows I'm a student of one of the WAL members, but not which one, and I have to ensure they can trust me not to be biased.”

  Zero tilted his head. “You’re the right-hand man of Zul.”

  “And?” Merak asked. “A nineteen-year-old with a higher rank than guys in their late twenties is never a good mix. They think I kiss Zul’s ass all the time, which I don’t…”

  “Sorry, man, that’s rough.”

  Merak chuckled. “Don’t worry, mate. How is Amos? He sent me one message but never responded to my follow-up.”

  “Well, last I saw, he was beaten up, but from what I hear, he’s fine. If we get access to Mount Ziggy, you should see him solo the Guardian of Lepidos.”

  “Right.” Merak crossed his arms, sighing with a smile. “I’ll mention that to Zul. Well, mate, it was nice seeing you, but I should get back to Zul.”

  Zero lifted three fingers in a half-hearted wave. “You too, old friend.” They parted ways as Zero exited the building and made his way back down to the market and obelisk. Scanning the area, he noticed there were more stalls than when he arrived. Even though Hypno said Sara was heading to the market, he could just message her. Zero’s heart sank as he opened his interface, realizing he hadn’t added her and didn’t know her username, nor John’s or Marisa’s. “I’ll make this quick,” Zero grunted.

  Thirty minutes later, Zero explored almost twenty percent of the market, coming across many weapons, potions, building plans, and miscellaneous items. They were all lower-tier, but it made sense since it had only been a month in the game. Occasionally, he encountered a player with a semi-rare item that they tried to overprice compared to its actual value.

  Zero visited a small group of four sitting in foldable chairs with steel weapons laid out on a rug. The steel warhammer had a longer handle than the one he currently owned; pointing at it and nodding to hold it, he received the go-ahead. Picking up the heavy weapon, he felt the perfect grip. “Did you make this yourself?”

  The man shook his head. “No, my wife, Sharlee. Her smithing is in the high five-hundreds. She made them.”

  Zero looked up at the brown-haired girl. “Great work. Doing custom work isn’t easy.”

  “Thanks, child,” Sharlee said in a Southern accent. “My Pawpaw always said I had rust under my fingernails and palms harder than a dog's nose.”

  “How much?”

  The man scratched his nose. “A hundred and twenty.”

  Zero sucked in air through his teeth. “Would you do eighty thousand?”

  The man mirrored his action, sucking in air. “Yeah. The imbuement is seventy, though… I wouldn’t be making much money. I can do one-thirteen.”

  Again, Zero sucked in air. “Oh yeah… See, it’s just that it’s a steel weapon, not a brazer or crystal.”

  As expected, the man sucked in air again. “Yeah, but not many quality items like this one. Also, you said yourself that you thought it was great work.”

  Zero rubbed his chin as he sucked in air again. “Yeah, but…” The man and Zero went back and forth, annoyingly sucking in air and saying “yeah” at the beginning and end of every sentence.

  The man next to Sharlee slammed his drink on the small table. “For fuck’s sake, Anderson, just sell the fucking thing! Traveling to Durmax isn’t cheap, but damn, dude, it’s annoying.”

  Anderson sighed. “Right…”

  Zero turned back to the salesman. “You need to go to Durmax?”

  “Technically, Wolfpass, because we took jobs going into Nanium. We just got our contracts from RoT.”

  Zero tilted his head. “Why not just travel there?”

  “Too dangerous. They must hire the mercenary clan Omega when they return in a few days. Before that, we are pretty short on gold,” Anderson said with an exaggerated sigh.

  Zero feels no scratches between his eyes as he understands how dangerous it is after being chased by skinwalkers. Damn, they are scary—strong and fast. But they could avoid all that trouble. “Are you guys blocked from the Durmax obelisk?”

  The other three stop what they are doing and stare back at Zero.

  Anderson shakes his head. “There shouldn’t be any reason we would be. Why?”

  “Alright, let's make another deal then.” Zero points at the warhammer. “Sell me this for eighty thousand, and I'll throw in four Durmax teleportation scrolls.”

  All four mouths drop as they rush toward the WAL member.

  “How do you have that this early?”

  “Scrolls in the right places can cost a fortune!”

  Zero nervously chuckles as the group surrounds him.

  “Alright! Alright! Give the man some space!” Anderson says, grabbing Zero’s hand.

  A quick flash catches Zero’s attention, and his eyes widen. The crystal ring on Anderson's middle finger… Zero knows exactly what that is without needing to examine it further. The crystal ring is a weapon that spawns crystal shards worldwide and can attack from the range of a standard ranged attack. After acquiring the brazer warhammer, Zero considered grinding the Crystal Guardians for their one-in-three-thousand drop rate. But now, he might not have to.

  Anderson sends Zero a trade request. A smile fades as he follows Zero’s gaze to his ring. “Oh, ha. We got lucky last week while training on the western Crystal Guardians. Wasn’t expecting…”

  Zero cuts him off. “How much for it?”

  Anderson chuckles nervously, covering his ring with his other hand. “Sorry, friend. This is the only item not for sale.”

  Just take it and kill them.

  The heartbeat drowns out the surrounding noise, and the atmosphere shifts for a split second. Zero reaches for the man's covered hand, only to redirect to his shoulder. With a smile, Zero tilts his head. “No worries, man. It’s a great weapon. Practicing with it for a bit will be a great way for you to protect your friends.”

  Anderson sighs before giving a light laugh. “Right!”

  It sucks that Zero can’t just kill and steal from the group. Before things got serious, that’s exactly what he would have done—killed and stolen. That’s what this game was about until massive clans wrote the rules. Only those with power and guts could defy them. Zero accepts their trade and watches as they pack their things before waving to the WAL member. In a flash, they are gone as the scrolls burn to ash. Zero knows he can’t lose himself to his persona…