"Yo," said the guard, a young-ish, muscular, shirtless man who looked like he'd stepped off of a bodybuilding advertisement and was only a little shorter than Carl. "Citizens?"

Carl looked to Mina, who was sitting up and fastening her neckerchief around herself in the process, and shrugged. "No?"

"Not a problem," the guard said, cracking a small smile. "Welcome to Onyxfell, the City of Wrath."

Oh, no, is this gonna be weird like Charus City? C'mon, there's gotta be some cities that aren't age-restricted where I can—

"Seen some wrath on your way in, eh?" the guard said in obvious good humor, looking at the bloody mess on the hood of the car. "Get any stats?"

Huh, this thing with the weird stats must be pretty common if he's asking about it. "Yeah, a few," Carl said, feeling suddenly relieved that there was definitely not any role-playing involved. "What were they… Precipitate, Concomitance, uh… Rebarberative?"

The guard blew air out the corner of his mouth, looking exasperated. "Yeah, more junk. I got a point in Precipitate the other day. No idea what it does."

"Probably nothing," Carl said. "Just a bug in the system."

"Bug?" the guard repeated, looking confused.

"Yeah, you know, like a glitch? An error?"

The guard extended his index finger at Carl and waved it, nodding in time. "You know, that'd make sense. Never thought of it that way. Still, though, I'm surprised you know about the system if you're not from here."

Carl frowned for a moment, then shrugged again. He must mean the buggy part of the system. Maybe it doesn't trigger for everyone or something. Either way, it's great not having to pretend to be in character.

"Sorry, didn't mean to waylay you," the guard said. He brought up a pad of paper. "Your business in Onyxfell?"

"Racing," Carl said firmly.

The guard began writing, looking surprised. "The race tracks, is it? You're quite well-informed. Just you and your daughter, then, sir? That's good. The entry's easier for family."

Carl looked over at Mina, who gave him a half-asleep smile and shrugged her shoulders just as he had. "Sure," he replied to the guard. Wouldn't mind having a daughter like Mina at all. Practically a chip off the ol' block with how smart she is. Just like the girls in that sense.

The guard began writing on his pad with a…

Carl frowned. Is he using a pencil? Weird thing to put in a fantasy game. Then again, it's maybe a bit less fantasy than I thought.

"Names?" the guard said expectantly.

"Carl."

"Family name?"

Carl sighed. "Weathers."

The guard paused, just as Carl had expected him to, and looked up. "Carl Weathers, you said?" he asked, just prior to the question to everyone always asked. "Any relation to—"

"No relation," Carl said, just as he did every time someone asked if he was related to the Carl Weathers.

"Ah, sorry," said the guard with a sheepish grin, "you probably get asked about that too much. The Weathers mages are incredibly famous, though."

Carl paused as he considered the man's statement. Mages?

"The Weathers family of mages from Onyxfell are quite renowned," Mina whispered.

"And you, miss?" the guard continued.

"Mina," said Mina.

"Alright, Carl and Mina Weathers," the guard said, setting his pad of paper and pencil on a post nearby next to a small jug. "This being your first time here, and with you being smart and going in the five gate, I'll let you pick. Strength or battle?"

Carl frowned, then looked to Mina, who seemed to know all of this stuff.

"It's customary for non-citizens of the Stadal Empire who bear no documents for trading to be challenged, either in a battle 'till yield or in a contest of strength at the gatekeeper's discretion," she recited helpfully, giving him a familiar look of expectation.

Carl gave her an appreciative smile, and she beamed back at him, so he ruffled her hair for a moment until he recalled that she was Mina and not Sammy.

Mina's smile grew even more pleased, and she closed her eyes under his practiced hair-tousling.

He turned back to the guard. "Can it be any contest of strength?" he asked, not feeling like he'd be able to beat someone skilled enough to work at the gate of a city accepting challenges.

The guard nodded. "Since you're family, only one of you needs to be challenged."

"How about—"

A boom sounded out from the distant direction of the far left gate, causing Carl's head to jerk around, though he was unable to see…

A tiny, flailing figure fell from the sky and landed among the masses, and faint cheers carried over.

"He's fine," the guard said after a moment, his head turned in the same direction. "Challenges at the gate are never to the death. We've always got a healer roaming around, so sometimes we perform a little if there's a big crowd."

Carl nodded. Now this is what I'm talking about. This is exactly what I'd expect it to be like when you get to the gate of a new city in this game. Stupid role-playing. "How about arm wrestling?"

"Haven't done that one in a while," the guard remarked, stepping back to allow Carl to exit his vehicle. "This is the five gate, so the difficulty of the challenge has to match." He gave Carl a look like he was sizing the older man up. "You look reasonably strong. Let's do ten seconds. If you can stop your hand from going past this point," he demonstrated with his palm facing upwards and arm cocked to the side, "for ten seconds, or if you move mine past the same point, you've passed." He held his hand up.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Seems fair," Carl said, not really knowing what was or wasn't fair. He brought his own hand up and clasped the other man's dry, calloused palm, tensing his muscles.

"We start on three," the guard said, similarly preparing himself. "One, two, three."

Carl smoothly dragged the other man's hand down to the point that had been specified a moment earlier, feeling no resistance. Then he relaxed and gave the other man a funny look. He definitely let me win.

The guard was shaking his hand out in an exaggerated manner. "Well, looks like you pass," he said in a good-natured tone. He gestured towards the open gate. "Welcome to Onyxfell, the City of Wrath," he said. "If you're looking for entertainment, perhaps you'll come by the arena. I am Quintis Spurius Marcellinus, and I fight every other day in the afternoons."

Arena? Carl looked to Mina again as he returned to the car.

"The gladiators of Onyxfell are renowned for their battle prowess and serve as the city's gatekeepers on a rotating basis during the times when they do not have scheduled matches," Mina recited, seeming pleased with herself.

Quintis Spurius Marcellinus—who was most certainly making good use of the multi-name functionality in the game—preened, striking a pose and flexing his muscles. "Right you are, miss," he said. "I'm no Lightning Scorpion, but we all aspire to that level of strength and fame."

Lightning Scorpion? Carl avoided laughing since the man seemed to be speaking respectfully. Definitely gotta be some kid with a name like that.

"The Lightning Scorpion," Mina began, her eyes shining with excitement, "is the most famed gladiator in history, having never once suffered defeat, and with renown surpassed only by the Empress. The Lightning Scorpion disappeared after slaying…" Her brow furrowed.

"Marcus Tertinius Belenus, the Impenetrable Shield, and it was a fight to the death," Quintis cut in, seeming just as excited by the topic. "I remember being at the arena on that day as if it was yesterday. They had all the signs in the city advertising the match for weeks beforehand, and the Impenetrable Shield was walking around and talking shit about how nobody had landed a single blow on him in years. Lightning Scorpion strikes back, always the crowd-pleaser: Fuck you and your shield. Get some points in Cognizance, idiot."

The guard's breathing had grown faster, and he had a faraway look in his eye. "The bout starts, and the Shield offers the Scorpion a free blow—the greatest form of disrespect in the arena—and brings the crowd into a frenzy. The Scorpion plays it up, says the 'idiot Shield' is too slow to even land a blow, asks if he's ever gotten a point in the Vision or Thinking stats or if he's just been training Char style."

Quintis paused, closing his eyes as he savored the memory, and Carl found himself being drawn into the man's storytelling. "Shield gets enraged—Shield's been a gladiator for twice as long, even if he doesn't battle every day like the Scorpion—and rushes forward. But no! It's just a ruse! He stops short, his high-rank shield held high!" He held his arm up, as though holding the shield himself. "The Shield always fights cleverly, seeing his opponent's moves and counterattacking with an impossibly sharp fencing sword he found after defeating a rift spawn, getting his Counter stat all the way up to ninety eight."

The gladiator thrust his right arm forward as if mimicking the blow, then slowly brought both hands to the top of his head. "But it doesn't even fucking matter! It's the fucking Lightning Scorpion! I blinked, and the Impenetrable Shield was fucking dead! Bare hand, straight through his shield, doesn't even give him the dignity of using a weapon! Weeks of anticipation, and then it was over in the most exciting few seconds of my life."

He tipped his head back, breathing out and closing his eyes once more. "That fight was the one that made me want to be a gladiator," he said, his tone reverential. "What made a lot of us choose the path."

Wow, that was pretty awesome-sounding. Gladiators, huh? Maybe I'll check out a match or two if I'm on for long enough. Not to compete or anything, obviously, but maybe it'll give me some kinda idea on this meeting since it's so different from real life.

"Would that I could have seen such a spectacle," Mina said, sounding enthusiastic. "This arena, is it near to the racing tracks, by chance?"

It was a moment longer before Quintis returned to himself. "Sorry, sorry," he said, his grin and tone implying his feelings didn't match his words, "I love remembering that moment." He scratched at the hair on top of his head, which was improbably piled up almost like the top of a pine tree, as he looked at them. "There's the lower track adjacent to district five in here," he pointed to the gate, "and the upper track next to district one, over there," he finished, pointing to the gate on the opposite end of the wall. "Competition on the lower track isn't as fierce, but you occasionally see some with potential. The Lightning Driver—copied his name from the gladiator, obviously, but no relation—came from the lower track, and he's a contender for the Hero's Cup in a little under two weeks."

Huh. Sounds like racing and gladiat… Gladiating? Gladiatoring? Sounds like racing and gladiating are both pretty popular. And I can't get over how awesome it is to just be able to have a normal conversation with someone.

"My thanks," said Mina. "Ah, by Char, do you perhaps refer to—"

"Charus Kingdom," Quintis said. He spit on the ground to his side. "What a piece of shit country. They spend so much time fucking they don't even have time to train their soldiers properly. The one hero—the one who built the tracks and made the roads nice and smooth—is okay, even if they're not really the sociable type, whoever they are, but the rest of the country can burn for all I care. Another hero… What was his name… Normannus, that's right."

Mina's hands grabbed Carl's arm.

"He came by about half a year ago," Quintis said, smirking. "Demanded to fight in the arena and challenge our strongest fighter, behaving as a baby does. The Sword Shatterer drew the winning lot over Mellitus and punched him clear out of the city with her first strike for one of the most satisfying victories I've ever witnessed. He whined and complained at the gate for hours after, saying how it wasn't fair, and demanding his goddess aid him, but this is Stadal, not Charus. We worship victory, not light or whatever horseshit those weakling Chars preach about. Salonina—The Sword Shatterer—gave him the option to fight once more outside the walls without defiling the arena, but then he claimed he needed to return to his city with the utmost haste." He began to chuckle.

Carl's left hand had clenched into a fist at the mention of the name, but he relaxed it and looked on with confusion when Mina began to laugh, covering her mouth with both hands.

"What an incredible story," she said, barely able to get the words out between laughs. "Oh, my. Mister Marcellinus, thank you so much for this. Truly."

I guess that's pretty funny. Wow, punched him out of the city? Like, from the arena? I wonder if that's another physics bug or some kinda skill? Actually, what are skills even like in this game?

Quintis's grin remained after his chuckles stopped. "Anything else I can help with?" He looked behind them.

Carl took the hint. "No, I think that's—"

"Do you know where we might purchase lodging or a workshop capable of housing this steamcar?" Mina asked quickly.

Quintis frowned, and he stroked his upper lip with his thumb. "So you're intending to race," he said slowly. "How interesting. You might try the armorer's section of the district. I recall a friend of mine has a brother in this district, Decius Minucius Pertinax, who…"

A blue status window appeared in front of him.

"What the fuck is Impignoration?" Quintis muttered as he stared at the window while scowling. "Dismiss." He sighed. "Sorry, what was I… Right. Seek out Decius Minucius and mention my name. He owns a number of properties in D-five, but he spends his time working at his smithy, Pertinax Protectives. At worst, he should know someone who can be of help."

"My thanks," Mina said once more, smiling at the gatekeeper.

The guard waved them off. "It's my privilege to deliver victory to those who seek it within our city."

"Thanks for everything, Quintis," Carl said. This guy was super helpful. God tier gatekeeper guy from the other city was cool, but he never even asked what my business was. Quintis seems like he's way better at the actual job part of it.

"Victory be upon you, Carl and Mina Weathers," Quintis said, nodding his head and gesturing towards the gate.

Carl drove slowly into the city. "Smart thinking asking about a workshop."

"I'll need a place in which to devise seatbelts before I attempt to race," Mina said, grinning up at him.

A blue status window appeared.

Delectation increases to 1.

Carl sighed.