If I could rate the hunchback’s driving, I’d have nothing nice to say—except for having arrived in one piece. I can’t say the same from everyone else aboard.

With legs like Jell-O and a racing heart, I look around. A long fence of black flames of doom surrounds a spiraling tower that ascends far past what I can see. I imagine that’s the Tower of Abundance, but those walls of doom block me.

“Didn’t know I’d be doing paperwork today,” I mutter as I step up to the building and see several attendants at the counters helping what few people had arrived before me. “Hopefully it doesn’t take too long.”

I look at my watch, and it’s already nearing noon. I’d gotten to the cafe at seven and left at eight. To be back home for dinner, to shower, and be in bed at a solid ten o’clock, I’d have to leave the tower around six.

With a plan, I confidently approach one of the attendants and smile. “Good morning!”

The dead fish eyes staring back at me from the empty, black sockets of whatever this devil was feel very… apt. Kahirin had set an odd tone to this whole “devils are taking over” thing, but this attendant?

Right on the money.

“Hand.”

I lay my hand on the outline of a hand etched into the counter. “What is thi—ow!”

An irritated tattoo of the letter one now called the back of my hand home. “Registry complete. Your designation is Gaian One, and your current Existential Balance is a credit of ten World Coins.”

I take my hand back and look at the tattoo, ignoring the red flesh. I can only imagine what some of the longer numbers might have to deal with. Maybe a scannable barcode?

Once I finish looking at the unexpected tattoo, I nod at the attendant. “Are you a vendor?”

“No.”

“Can I go inside then?” I ask, pointing towards the hall.

“Yes.”

I almost move, but then I think about it. “Should I go inside now?”

“No.”

Sighing, I reorient myself. “What else do I need to do?”

Without a word, she slips a paper to me. “Put a drop of blood anywhere on the parchment.”

“Blood?” I ask, but then I remember these are devils. Seems par for the course, I suppose. “Got anything I can prick my finger wi—ow!”

The feeling of a needle assaults the tip of the indicated finger, and I stamp the spherical globule onto the paper. The attendant taps the page, and another appears before it. The first then disappears faster than I can blink, while the second bursts into a fiery inferno.

I wave away the smoke cloud and smile at the attendant. “Anything else?”

She pushes a thick, rectangular card made of some black metal towards me. When I touch it, I feel the little pin prick ache slightly, as if being pulled on, and then relax. I suck on the finger as details appear on the metal.

“Don’t lose that.”

I take the odd metal thing and put it in my pocket. For a brief second, I hope she’ll tell me what I need to do next. She doesn’t. “Now?”

“Go die.”

A buzzer sounds above me, and flaming indication arrows light the ground, pointing me down the line of attendants and through a long corridor. The walking space is too cramped for comfort but allows me to pass through otherwise unmolested.

When I enter through the long walls, it’s as if I’ve stepped into a new world. I can still see the end of the hall I entered through, but now that I am inside, I see many things I couldn’t from the outside.

Like hundreds of different shaped magic banks, each with their “competitive and generous” loan programs available for anybody to see. So too are the different types of vendors, each located in their own little, less than tidy sections.

Armorers over there, weaponsmiths over here. Fletchers, bowyers, woodsman, hunters, and on and on. That doesn’t even include all the magical variations of everything. Needless to say, if you could think of it, the place had it somewhere.

How it all fits without becoming too cluttered—it doesn’t. I walk in a large circle for at least fifteen minutes and don’t run into the same shopping section twice before looping back to the beginning.

Kahirin didn’t tell me where I should go to cash out on the beginner tutorial package, but I’d seen something at the entrance that looked like a self-help directory. Something I make my way towards with utmost haste now that I know just how crazy things on this side of the doom wall are.

I get there, and a friendly voice greets, “Greetings Gaian One. What can I direct you towards today?”

“The beginner tutorial package, if you would,” I respond, leaning forward in hopes it hears me clearly. I don’t like repeating myself.

“There are currently three in stock. District section C, vendor number 117-332. Is there anything else I can help you find today?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

I’d already looked at all the prices of everything early. An enchanted steel sword would cost all ten of my Coins. A normal steel sword would cost one or two, depending on its quality. The beginner package, if what Kahirin says is true, costs ten.

Following the helpful sector designation signs, I make my way to district sector C, which happens to be the section for those who don’t want to pay full price for anything. My kind of shopping section, one I look forward to perusing at another time.

A bundle deal caught my eye, I’ll admit. Seeing an enchanted spear, two pieces of plate armor, plated boots, and an attack skill in one place after seeing the prices of everything individually… I wipe my mouth of the little bit of drool there and continue seeking out the proper vendor.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Not easy in this crowd, but a task made easier by the vendor designation posts within the district sector. Within ten minutes, I stood before a greasy gremlin.

One thing occurs to me as I point at the weird cube I could intuit as the item I want. How do I pay?

He hands me the cube, and the tattoo on the back of my hand aches for a moment. Once it stops, the greasy gremlin nods and ignores me. When I don’t move immediately, he starts to grunt at me in a way I don’t understand.

Getting the hint, I spin on my heels and make my way back to the entrance. Another thing that I’m only just now realizing... I have no idea how to use this package. Poking and prodding does nothing, nor does dropping, stomping, begging, or praying.

Seeing as nothing works, I try to ask for help, but the directory only directs, not instructs. I have no more money, so nobody cares to even acknowledge my existence. Pitiful.

So, resigning myself to carry the unopened package with me through my weaponless, skilless, armorless excursion into the entrance of the Tower of Abundance, I leave the shopping area.

“Woe is me,” I mutter, shrugging. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

There’s a set of stairs marked as “entrance” beside an elevator. Tower, multiple floors, elevator. Makes sense to me. If I wanted to go up and down to, let’s say the thirtieth floor, I wouldn’t want to walk all the way up and down each time.

However, I don’t start going up the stairs just yet. There’s another thing I want to check first before making my way into the Tower, a place I’d likely be spending a lot of time in the future—and the rest of my life, however short or long that may be.

With that cheery thought in mind, I make my way back to one of the many banks. Not just any bank though, a conversion bank. When I get to it again, I stop and read the sign again. “We’ll pay for anything you have.”

The wording didn’t process properly the first time I passed by, but on second thought, seems like something to look into. Wouldn’t want to jump to conclusions and cripple my potential or limit my options. Better to shop around, see what options I have before committing to anything.

Because, as I see things, I bought the package with all my Coins. Now I have nothing, and going in without preparation could lead to my soul having a dinner date with a hungry Devil God. Not something I want to speedrun.

Plus, a quick check of my watch shows that I have plenty of time left before I have to take another horrendous trip back. Leisurely, I step through.

“Good morning, Player!” another succubus, much like Kahirin, greets while guiding me to a counter in the middle of the first room.

There are other doors leading to other places, but I can’t imagine what they might be used for. Instead, I follow the succubus’ prompting and sit across from a gray-haired goblin with gnarled fingers.

He looks me up and down twice. “Interested in a loan?”

“If that were the case, I’d have gone to another bank,” I state, unblinking and unflinching. The elderly goblin’s face scrunches up, but he doesn’t deign to reply. “Show me listings of what you’ll convert.”

Before I finish speaking, the elderly goblin smacks a pamphlet down. “If it has value to you, we’ll buy it. The more important, the higher the price. Other things can be bundled together, like genetics. Innate talents and potential, race, destiny, etc. If you can think of selling it, we can buy it.”

“So your sign outside isn’t false advertising,” I note, reading through the list. The goblin spoke truthfully. The listings are extensive, ranging from emotional to physical to metaphysical. “You even have temporary loans? That’s intriguing. How do you manage that?”

“Magic,” the goblin grunted.

“Ah, of course. Magic.” Of course magic is a casual thing capable of loaning out parts of your existence. Reasonable, given that the notification calls this market an Existential Shop System. “I see.”

I take the pamphlet, pocket it, and leave. From a cursory look, the more permanent an exchange, the more value. As I make my way back to the stairs up to the first floor of the Tower of Abundance, I sigh.

“Only natural, of course.”

The pamphlet gives quotes on anything I could imagine. A bundle option was race, meaning I can trade my humanity for World Coins. And that works in the physical, emotional, and metaphysical senses.

But I’m in no hurry to trade my entire existence to live life as a disembodied soul just yet. I’m sure the pay is nice though. I doubt I’d even mind that much once I became a disembodied soul, but I also have no clue how souls work. Could be a horrendous existence, something like a poltergeist.

Taking physical conversion off the table, metaphysical things, like sentience, emotions, and senses, could also be traded. I could trade the feeling of fear for magic coins, but at the same time, that seems unwise.

Fear is a good indicator of what might kill you. If I have enough experience or an ability to discern an opponent’s capabilities, then that might be worth considering. For now, it remains a decent survival mechanic.

With so many different choices and options, I make no decision. I’ll stick to the simple plan of buying the beginner tutorial package and not dying. Nothing needs to be rushed into just yet, though the time for decisiveness is surely upon all of humanity.

But from the looks of the lack of others, I don’t think I need to worry much about things changing too drastically. Others would have to come to accept the existence of the devilish reign of Yugmuswa—or be dragged, likely kicking and screaming, to pay off their debts.

How that would work going forward, I hope I won’t really ever need to know. Grabbing the small beginner package, I grip it tightly. Kaharin seemed genuine, so I’ll trust her to get me ahead of the curve with her suggestion.

Finally at the base of the stairs, one pamphlet heavier, I ascend. Two flights later, I stand before a prismatic vortex of what looks like sticky liquid. For a moment, I question whether taking a step forward will result in my death—then do so anyway.

Scanning Player…

Gaian One identified.

Beginner Tutorial Package identified.

Use now?

“Yes,” I gurgle through the strange portal liquid.

The environment shifts, and the haze of prismatic goop dissipates. When I look around, I find myself transported to a room full of weapons.

“Ho-ho!” a deep, hearty voice booms. “We have someone with a brain in the new group.” A bear of a man materializes in front of me and claps his hands together. “Welcome, Player.”

“Hi.” I wave.

He lacks a shirt and has a hairy chest, really only wearing a loincloth and heavy leather boots. An odd combo, I’ll say, but to each their own. His beard comes down to his absolutely shredded abdomen, a thing of healthy brown.

“I am Loboden,” he greets, bowing respectfully.

I return the bow, the action feeling quite odd. “I am Gaian One, Loboden. Well met.”

“Well met, Gaian One.” We both rise and look around the room. He gestures. “See anything you like?”

My finger comes up. “That one.”

“Oh-ho ho! An eye for taste, I see.” Loboden grabs the greatsword off the wall and looks it over. “A decent item, for sure. Here.”

He deftly tosses it to me, and I catch it. Barely. The weight is far more than I expect, but I right myself and hold the blade with two hands.

“Oh, a natural. Though,” he approaches and fixes my grip, slightly adjusts my stance so my feet are wider and my body is less stiff. “And bend your knees.”

I do, and I immediately feel something click into place.

“Hand me your Existential Identification Card,” he orders, holding out a hand expectantly. I see no reason not to trust him, grab it from my pocket, and hand it over. “You know how to read this?”

“No clue,” I admit, looking for a place to set the greatsword until I need to use it.

“Hold it,” Loboden orders, flexing. “It’ll help you build the muscles needed to wield it. Considering your size, I wouldn’t expect you to struggle too much with it. Maybe in a few years, you’ll be a reputable swordsman I can brag about.”

“Maybe.” I gesture towards the identification card. “As you were saying earlier?”

“Right,” he says, tapping it against his palm. “First lesson, never give this to anybody.” He wiggles it in his hand. “To make sure you learn your lesson, I won’t give it back until you learn a [Swordsmanship] active skill.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, uncertain about the mistake I’ve just made or how I should begin rectifying it.

“Figure it out,” he says, dematerializing entirely.