Expedition Association's main hall, tutorial city of Geneva on the Immortal Frontier, dawn.

Despite this fantastical metropolis being mostly populated by GMT+1 zone inhabitants, which meant 6 in the morning local time, the atmosphere was as lively as ever. The humongous, bustling halls housing the instanced dungeon portals were chock full of players, coming, going, embarking and returning, often haggard and bloodied, but usually in high spirits – some still online after a long and productive night, others just logging on after waking up early.

At the very beginning of the hall, closest to the city center, stood portal number one, ordinary and generic. Before it – a party of players, ready to go to work. Among them was one, that Carl would probably recognize. It was the same one that warned him previously.

“Are you guys moving or not? You're in the way!”

“We're going, chill!”

Urged and prodded, they deliberated on their next destination.

“Come on, let's just go for gray wolves' den! It will be fine!”

“Unless we meet a dire wolf …”

“I'm telling you, we're too weak for them now, even with no dire wolves! You seriously wanna team-wipe again? And what will we do then, with double-stacked penalties? Go sightseeing? Let's go for giant crabs instead, they're slow and abundant.”

“Yeah, and take forever to kill, don't pay so well, and also you're pretty much dead if you get caught in the pincers!”

“And what did I tell you about black wolves before? Our team wipe is on you. I've been against going there from the get go. And now I'm afraid to go to bed, because I will have nightmares, thank you very much! While I was torn to pieces, you caught a break with a quick death, you bastard!”

“Oh, come on, grow a pair! We just had bad luck with the prowler, that's all. That place is the best for grinding cash right now!”

“Yes, well, we're not going to make much today now, will we? We might as well get some rest or go to the arena to train.”

“What difference does it make if we have one or two stacks of weakness? If they're back to back, then they'll both disappear after one day, no?”

“Guys, mooove! Or get out of the way!”

“Okay, okay!”

“Fine, let's go for gray wolves, have it your way. But if we wipe, I'm pinning it on you again, and you will owe me!”

“Don't be such a crybaby. And if you can't handle the death, then just eject, nobody will criticize you for it.”

“What the … ?”

The hapless adventurers didn't yet embark, when another party of players arrived, one after another, but not from the hall entrance – from the turquoise vortex in the dungeon portal instead. The two men were bloodied all over, one elven girl was pristinely clean, while the other only had some stains and smudges. They all emanated dashing nobility, their gazes stately and assured.

“Who are these guys?!”

“Woah, look at those backpacks …”

“They had to have come from gray wolves' den, right? With this amount …”

“That is a lot of money …”

“And the healer didn't even get touched!”

“Neither did the ranger, she was probably only executing and skinning.”

“They must be some pro team from a big guild.”

“Aren't they the ones from before, though? They've been looking for a damage dealer, no?”

As the gradually appearing champions moved to the exchange terminal, where a different party was wrapping up with cashing in their decent hunt, all the voices suddenly silenced, stupefied beyond belief.

“What the hell … happened to that guy?”

“Is this for real?”

“Is he like a blood-crazed berserker, or something?

“They must have met a dire wolf at the end, look at his arm and leg … that poor fella.”

“You're telling me he tanked a dire wolf in that paper armor?”

“They've found their damage dealer, I guess …”

“How in the world is he still alive?”

“They must all be pros, no doubt about that. Their equipment isn't even that great.”

“So what, workshop employees?”

“Guess so, since they don't have the money to buy better gear.”

“With their skill, looks like they don't even need it. They're likely selling all their winnings at the black market, taking advantage of the inflated prices while they last.”

“I don't know, if they were workshop employees, they'd be smart, and they would invest in themselves instead of opting for a quick buck.”

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

“Wait, what?!”

“That's a black wolf pelt!”

“Are you kidding me?!”

“Who the hell are they?!”

“They've killed this many without going back?!”

“Woah, that's a prowler!”

“No, it's an alpha.”

“Are you blind? The ranger girl is holding an alpha!”

“And an albino … and another alpha …”

“How high is their skinning proficiency?! Have you ever seen such a big haul?”

“Were they seriously not afraid of dying and losing it all?”

“They must be insanely good. Top experts, no doubt. They don't even bother with gear, only relying on technique and strategy, while spending all their money on instructors.”

“Yeah, they probably only have some expensive life-saving consumables and that's it.”

Hearing the last couple comments, the young male swordsman, who previously made the impolite remark about Fleeting Time's party, now made a few steps back, squeezing through his colleagues and trying to hide behind them.

“Stop pushing! Where are you going?” the shieldman with whom he had just quarreled demanded. “Oh … I get it!” The tank grinned mischievously. “Hey, guys! Over here!”

“What are you doing! Knock it off!” the pitiful swordsman pleaded in a hushed, but insistent voice.

“Yes, here! Hi! We've met before, you remember us?”

While the terrified swordsman ducked and got out of sight, the grizzled cleric of the esteemed team gave them a passing glance and resumed his task, uninterested. The rest didn't even bother.

“That Charles Lionheart character, though … what a beast …”

“Yeah, he's basically naked …”

“How does one get so good only two and a half days into the game?”

“The corporate guilds hire all kinds of monsters. Maybe he's a professional gamer from one of the blood sports' scenes, or a special forces veteran.”

“I wouldn't be surprised if he was an active operative, making something extra on the side and tempering himself on the kind of battlefield he can never experience in real life.”

“Or simply enjoying the slaughter …”

As the mousy conversations ensued, the crowd of idle spectators grew to a few hundred. Carl was now opening his backpack with a sigh, as he knew what was going to happen. He initially thought about coming back later, but there was no point. This fact couldn't be concealed, and he couldn't be bothered.

“What's he pulling out … how big is that thing?!”

“What the … no! Nooo!”

“Aaaaaargh!!!”

While some expressed their dismay, horror and disbelief, most were either at a loss for words or could only produce some inarticulate sounds – but all gaped and goggled.

“That's staged!”

“A prank! This must be a prank! Come on guys!”

“Hahaha! Good one!”

Some realized this must have been a trick. A very elaborate one, made by a prospective guild to attain fame and notoriety, or serve some other agenda. This was the only explanation, and a reasonable one at that. Most gawkers, however, were still unconvinced, and started looking at each other with dread in their eyes.

“Just ignore them,” Carl advised, emptying his backpack. “I'll have 7 gold and 59 silver here, while we've totaled 10 gold and 46 silver altogether.”

As there was no assist for bounties with only the killing blow counting, the splitting of payments was left to the discretion of the players themselves.

“Like I said, brother Carl, we won't take a penny from you. We should instead go to the temple and see if you need any more funds for your treatment,” Fleeting Time asserted.

“No need, it's late, and I don't want to keep you any longer. The money I have here should suffice to get me in shape. And since we're on the subject of treatments … how do I clean myself up?”

“Haha, I know, right? It's quite inconvenient, and there isn't many places where you can find running water for free. You can't just go to a fountain, because that counts as misdemeanor. You either have to go to one of the instanced dungeons with a river or a coast, which takes some time, to the lake south of the city, which would take even longer, or you fork out some money.” The cleric smiled bitterly. “The NPCs outside have already opened up booths where you can shower, and they'll wash your apparel in a jiffy, but there just isn't enough, and the queue is unending. Not to mention that those knaves actually respond to demand, and drive the prices as far as they can get away with. Some players saw an opportunity and began offering their own mobile services, as nobody can either afford to rent plots of land or get a business permit yet, though the guilds are gearing up already. You can even see these guys running around here with buckets and brushes.” He gestured with his head to a couple entrepreneurial flunkies nearby, almost giving the poor souls a heart attack when he prompted Carl to look at their direction, causing them to take cover among the mob. “Then, there's public baths in the Colosseum complex, and lastly – the luxury of the temple, which will cost you an arm and a leg.” He paused, took a glimpse at Carl's injuries, and laughed heartily. “So to speak.”

“Well, I have to go there anyway, so I'll check their prices first.” Carl decided. “By the way, is it also misdemeanor to walk around like this?”

“It's not, but you will draw attention, and the NPCs will react to your looks just like people would. They'll often avoid you, point fingers at you, and bar you entry to their establishments. However, the temple, the arena, and this hall aren't a problem.”

“Great. Are you going to retrieve your conquest rewards now?”

“I'm an old man, brother Carl.” Fleeting Time laughed. “And this was a looong day. I'm spent, and the youths need to get some healthy shut-eye as well,” he ordered, seeing that the girls were dying to visit the system shop, afraid they would dawdle for a couple hours there.

“Alright. We'll be in touch, then, Uncle Time.”

“We will, brother Carl. We definitely will.” The cleric nodded solemnly, his passion showing in his tone.

The family of four then bid their cordial farewells and rushed to the temple to log off safely. Although it was possible to log off almost anywhere, as one just needed to inform the system of their wish and wait on the spot for 5 minutes, browsing their HUD or chatting to pass the time, doing so in non-designated areas was often inviting unnecessary complications, especially in the busy streets. Players that materialized out of thin air in the way of traffic were heavily frowned upon, and could even be fined by the NPC law enforcement.

“Well, if it isn't a problem, then I might as well go to the administration now.”

As Carl still felt on high after the final confrontation, he elected to keep going for a while. A whole new world opened up to him, and here he was a hulking giant!

The crowd parted before him like the Red Sea, their gazes full of deference and awe, as he limped casually through the immense portico housing the dungeon portals towards the inner section, where the NPCs resided.

“Ah, brave adventurer! I was awaiting your arrival!”