"Like I was saying," she continued, "I love what the gladiators are doing with racing. So interesting to watch!" She cut off a generous slice of bacon to go with part of her scrambled eggs and popped it into her mouth under her face-bandanna.

Huh, maybe she's new too? "You thinking of competing?" He sipped his coffee.

"Nah," she said, shaking her head. She took another bite of her in-game breakfast which, now that Carl looked, actually seemed like it would be pretty good with the thick, juicy bacon cuts and the fluffy-looking eggs. "Wouldn't be interesting."

"Yeah, I guess you'd probably have to be pretty experienced to wanna race in front of that many people," Carl said. Would be pretty nerve-wracking for anyone doing it their first time. Mina's gonna have to work up to that.

She chuckled. "Yeah, exactly. Interesting to spectate though. I'm thinking about whether to go to that Hero's Cup thing." She drank from her mug.

"Hero's Cup?" Carl took another sip. How's she even managing to eat with that thing over her mouth?

The woman brought another forkful of her meal underneath the bandanna and then lowered the empty fork while chewing. "Racing thing," she said after a moment. "Best drivers in the city up against the Char hero who paved all the roads and built the tracks."

"Hero," Carl repeated.

The word alone still made him angry.

"Eh, that's what people call him." She scooped up another big bite of bacon and eggs. "Sad for him. Now he's so famous people would probably mob him if they found him. Probably just wanted to help, and now people treat him like he's halfway to being a fucking emperor."

"Maybe," Carl mused. One guy really paved and built all this? He sipped his coffee. No way somebody's gonna do that just for fun in a game. I can see how people are gonna be doing all this crafting stuff in their free time, but a project like that's gotta take a while and cost a lot with how realistic everything is. Can't imagine somebody's gonna do something so huge just for fun. Wait… "A person did all that?"

"Yup."

Huh. I figured that was just Roger dumping more stuff onto the beta continent. Carl rubbed his beard. "And he doesn't show up anywhere?"

"Nah." She finished the last bite of her breakfast. "Nobody's ever seen him."

Carl gave her a skeptical look. "Nobody's ever seen him? So what, he runs around in secret paving roads and building racing tracks when nobody's watching?" He sipped his coffee.

"Nah, he's got these mechanical drones to do everything. Sort of smart."

"And what'd he get for doing all this?"

"Doubt he'd get much. He's been building cars to send to the city too."

Carl rolled his eyes. Yeah, gotta be Roger. He's just trying to throw a little flair into it instead of dumping stuff in. He really doesn't do stuff by half measures. "Yeah, sounds like a real hero. Maybe next he can start fixing up all this stupid system stuff."

The woman choked a little on the coffee she was sipping. "Stupid system stuff?"

"Yeah, the thing's just totally out of control." Carl grimaced. "I mean, I got points in stats that don't even make sense the other day."

"Ah, you wish you got better stats," the woman said with obvious sarcasm.

Carl shook his head. "Nah, I don't care. I just wish whoever put this stuff in had paid a bit more attention so it'd make sense." He finished his coffee. I don't get how Roger can be so attentive with stuff like making it seem like a player is putting new content into the game, but then he completely drops the ball on basic things like game systems and surface durability. Everyone seemed like they were working so hard when I went up there! I can't be the only one seeing this stuff, right?

The woman gave him a look that was hard to place without being able to see the rest of her face. "Interesting," she said. "So you don't like that you don't understand it, but you don't hate it either?"

He shrugged. "It's okay. I mean, I'm sure it makes sense to the people who made it. But it's not very intuitive—assuming it's working as it's supposed to, which it probably isn't since I'm getting all these crazy stats."

A blue status window appeared.

New class acquired:

Conversationalist now rank 1!

1 unused skill point remaining

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

"See?" he said. "Who the heck's gonna want levels in Conversationalist? It's just talking. Don't need a skill or whatever for that. Dismiss."

"Not very interesting if you say it like that," the woman said, seeming to agree.

"You know, I think you're the first normal person I've talked to since I got here," Carl said abruptly.

The woman snorted in obvious amusement. "Really?"

Carl nodded, thinking back. "Yeah. Most people are way too into the game-y stuff, talking about victory all the time. Then there's those cult people who just complain about the system and talk about all their lifestyle stuff."

The woman's brows dipped. "Yeah, well, victory only goes so fucking far, eh? Haven't met anyone from a cult though. Maybe I should check it out."

He grimaced. "I wouldn't bother."

"That bad?"

"Just exhausting," Carl said. "Not bad people or anything—they paid me pretty well for doing a few odd jobs—but tiring to be around."

"I was gonna ask if you wanted to come with me," she said in a joking tone. "You're really normal yourself."

"Thanks, I've been working on it."

"Not a compliment," she said, her eyes crinkling slightly.

"I'm gonna take it as one anyway," Carl said. Kinda reminds me of Tim. I should try giving him a call sometime, now that I think of it. Max too.

They sat for a while in silence, each staring off into nowhere.

"Gonna get started on my day," the woman said. She stretched a tanned arm over her head.

"Hm," Carl said. "Should probably start mine too. Gotta…" He considered it. "Maybe I'll try some fishing. Heard there was somewhere nearby I might be able to catch something." Still got a lot of time to kill before Mina wakes up if yesterday was anything to go by.

"Mm," said the woman. "If you mean the river, it's not too far. Just head right out of the shop, and you'll see the bridge on your right a few streets up."

Fishing off a bridge, huh? Could be fun. Never done it in real life. "Cool, thanks." Carl stood and closed his eyes while he stretched a little bit himself. Can't believe they even nailed how good stretching feels. How do you pay this much attention to tiny stuff like that and miss these huge bugs? He opened his eyes, finding that the woman had also stood and was around Annie's height. The bustling noise of the city began to filter in as he stopped ignoring it.

"Eight marks," said the shopkeeper.

"Seven," said a younger-looking customer who seemed to maybe be in his early twenties.

"It's a price, not an offer."

"Seven's the highest I'll go."

"Alright, then fuck off."

Carl gave the old man an approving nod as he walked out of the shop. Yeah, can't be dropping your prices if that's what you're set on. Otherwise the next thing you know you've got a dozen clients demanding your time at all hours, and you're fighting so many fires you don't even have time to think or sleep. Whew, glad those days are over with.

He stopped just outside the shop, squinting a little as he got a face full of sunslight. "I'm Carl," he said to the woman when she followed, feeling like they'd perhaps advanced to the stage of friendship where they might be acquaintances. "Carl Weathers," he added grudgingly when he recalled how important full names seemed to be here.

"Vol," she said after a moment. "Nice to make your acquaintance, Carl Weathers." Her eyes crinkled again. "No third name?"

Don't really wanna be using my middle name in a game. Carl frowned.

She chuckled. "My advice to you? Make one up if you have to. Don't want people thinking you're a fucking eunuch."

A car drove past.

"Seriously?" Carl asked.

She shrugged. "Show your cock or get mocked."

He started to laugh. "Now I know you're messing with me."

"If you've got the knowledge, you'll present that sausage."

Carl chuckled. "No, but seriously—"

"Don't be so daft, make known your shaft."

He coughed. "What?"

"Rhyming's sort of a habit," said Vol, shrugging again. "I didn't make the rules though, that's just how people are here."

Carl looked back to the old breakfast shopkeeper. "Really?"

"Sausage one's clever," he replied with a stone-faced nod to Vol. "Haven't heard it before."

"Gotta be the dumbest…"

"Surprised nobody told you at the gate," said Vol. "Most men don't take it well when they find out later."

"I guess I just didn't take it that seriously when I heard the first time."

"You should," Vol said, looking northwards along the street. "Most shops charge a little extra for foreigners who don't know or don't respect the customs. Coffee's two marks for me. Three for you, probably."

Carl pressed a hand to his face. Mine was three. "Seriously? Wait, but aren't you supposed to have two names then?"

"Look at me," she said, holding up her hands. "I'm obviously not a fucking foreigner."

This is getting dumber and dumber but also more realistic. So just by setting your skin to a certain color in the character customizer you can avoid the noob tax here?

"Plus, I'm a citizen," she said, pulling a small piece of gray stone on a string up out the top of her shirt.

"You're a citizen, but you don't do the name thing," Carl said, still trying to come to grips with this city's stupidity.

"Nobody's trying to find out if I've got a cock," she retorted with overt joviality.

Ugh, this whole thing is giving me a headache. But she's funny about it, at least.

The shopkeeper chuckled along with him in the background.

"Didn't mean to upset you, just thought you could use the advice," Vol said. "I'll see you around maybe, Carl Weathers." She waved, then stepped out into the street and hopped up to sit on the side of a car as it passed.

That was a pretty cool move. Carl stared after Vol for a short while. How'd she even—

"Your name's Carl Weathers?" the shopkeeper asked.

Oh no.

"Related to…"