As we approach, I see the building's new rebrand, “The Haul” painted where the old mall's letters used to be. I laugh as I notice the same old letters in a large pile off to the right side of the building. James notices me laughing and says, “Yeah the owner didn’t really care what happened to the letters once they were off so long as they were out of the way. None of the divers really care either.”

“I guess that makes sense, priorities have changed. Customers probably don’t really care about things littering the parking lot when there isn’t any use for a parking lot.” I responded.

“I don’t know about ‘no use’ for the parking lot, look over there,” he pointed out. “There are people starting diving organizations. A lot of the old gamers want to call them guilds, but it isn’t sticking super well with the business men trying to run them.”

I looked off to the side of the main entrance where he pointed, seeing 40 or so large canopies set up with organization logos trying to attract divers offering them accelerated leveling up to level 150, use of advanced weapons, and even housing for some of the larger orgs. “You can take the man out of business, but you can’t take the business out of the man”, I said, chuckling at the suit-wearing men speaking to the sweaty, blood-covered divers.

“Come on, I’ll show you around before the rest of the crew gets here.” James said, leading me inside.

The Haul reminds me of what the mall was to me as a kid. More than a thousand people are wandering around window shopping at the different stores. Windows are painted over with new slogans, stores are filled with dungeon drops, and right in the middle of it all (where I kind of expected a car to be) is a small building that James quickly addresses. “Focus up, I can take you window shopping in a sec, but you need to see the Dungeon Market before we do that. It’s gonna blow your mind.”

Expectations somewhat building, I follow him into the otherwise nondescript building. Once inside I’m shocked to find it bright, but as my eyes adjust to the unwavering white light emitting from stones positioned around, I see that this small building is anything but. It’s massive on the inside, with walls upon walls of gear and shimmering stones with price markers depicting differently colored and shaped coins. James says, “Watch this.” and pulls out a tennis ball sized blue crystal and tosses it into a bin where it promptly dissipates into nothing. In its place a small baggie appears, which James takes and dumps into his hand, showing me 15 octagonal copper coins.

“So it just knows how much to give you?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s based on the mana levels of the items. Monsters will always drop their weapons and armor if they have them and a mana crystal. Sometimes if you get lucky they’ll drop other items as well. There are ways to scan how much mana is in an item or a set of items. Some people's class gives them inspect abilities that allow them to do it themselves, but for the rest of us there are detectors that sometimes drop from some higher level dungeons. The basic idea is 5 Mana Points or MP per copper at the lower level, but once you start running into higher level items they’re just inherently going to be worth more. That mana crystal for example probably only held around 65 MP, but since you can craft better items or gear with it and not need a lot of lower tier mana crystals, it’s worth a bit more. That only compounds once you get to higher and higher tier gear and items.” He explained, following up with, “Now, I’ll take you window shopping.”

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We left the dungeon market and headed out to look at the surrounding shops. A few jumped out at me, “Emory’s Armory”, an old clothing shop that had put its mannequins to use as makeshift armor stands. Glancing inside, they sold mostly large heavy armor sets, with the occasional leather armor set and even a set of what looked like bone armor. Following that, I walked up to “Peter’s Potions”, an old herbalism store that, judging by the looks of it, hadn’t even rebranded. Looking in the window, I see a set of what I assume are mana crystals, a rack of potions with miscellaneous labels on them, and even a couple notebooks detailing different potion recipes for sale. The last store in my immediate vicinity that gets my attention is “Brock Breaks”. The first two kind of told what they were in the name, an armor shop and a potion store, but the third piqued my interest.

Walking in, I immediately see incredibly large weaponry. From buster swords to hammers with heads the size of cinder blocks, there are insane weapons in here that I assume only the strongest divers can wield. There’s even a ship anchor that’s been sharpened down into a hook, and based on the slight glow it’s giving off, I’m going to assume it’s enchanted somehow. My smile must reach from ear to ear based on the look I’m getting from James.

“You really like big weapons huh Mike? Sure you aren’t compensating for something?” James teases.

“Mike?” a gruff voice interrupts my comeback. Turning I see a familiar face.

“Brock! I didn’t know if you made it through the collapse! It’s good to see you!” I half shout as I rush toward my old friend. The 5’4” man almost tackles me with a hug.

“You didn’t know if I made it? Everyone said you were nearly crushed to death! I’m glad to see you’re alive, and finally up and moving!” Brock says, backing away slightly after his bone-crushing hug.

“The Doc made me sit on my ass for three months, but I’m finally able to start doing my own diving and stop relying on James to take care of me. How’s the gym?” I replied.

“Well it did pretty well at first, but once people realized they couldn’t train their stats other than in the dungeons, the weights started collecting dust pretty quickly. Luckily I was at the mall when the collapse happened, so I was able to get a bit of a headstart in the dungeons and used the money to set up a store here.” Brock says, not even aware he’s humble bragging. He not only survived the collapse at ground zero, he used it as a way to profit. He’s always been that way. The 40-something man had more muscle than an elephant in the frame the size of a lapdog, and would discuss lifts with people twice his size telling them how they could improve their form, strength, and size. He’s actually the man that convinced me to start bodybuilding.

Shaking off his impressive accomplishments I say, “Maybe with all this store owner money, you’ll be able to buy a dungeon drop that’ll bring back your hair one of these days.”

“And maybe you’ll be able to find one that can find all that muscle you lost,” he laughingly says back. “Anyway, I assume you’re not here to buy anything since you’re just getting into the dungeons, but feel free to look around! If you see anything you like, I’ll throw it in the back for you until you can afford it. Good seeing you Mike, but I’ve got a store to run! Come by another time so we can catch up!” he says as some potential customers enter the store.

“Had your fill of window shopping?” James asks.

“Yeah, I definitely have some items picked out that are must buys depending on what my class options are.” I reply.

I see a somewhat strange group walking toward us. Looking closer I make out a dark skinned man missing an arm with a guitar strung over his back, an incredibly short brunette woman wearing a leather apron with what looks like ash obscuring her tan skin, a light almost pinkish woman in a ceremonial looking robe with her blonde hair tied up in a loose ponytail, and a darker tan skinned man with a bandolier of potions strung across his chest.

“Are these your friends James?” I ask.

Turning, James sees the group approaching and says,

“Meet ‘The Misfits’!”