Max followed Amy past the counter of the restaurant. The woman working there smiled at him again. Max reflexively smiled back. Amy led him into a small hallway where the public restrooms were, but she stopped in front of a different, unmarked door. The door was solid, appearing to be made of some sort of metal. Max had seen doors like this before and assumed they led to a cooler or something similar. As he watched, Amy touched what looked like a plain metal bulge to one side, and a second later, the door silently swung open. She waved him inside and then closed the door behind them.

His eyebrows rose in surprise and interest. There was at least some similarity between the small portal dominating one wall of this bare room and the portal he had gone through back on Earth to reach a dungeon. He kept this observation to himself as Amy shyly took his hand and led him through. Max allowed her to do so, but he stayed vigilant. One huge advantage of being a Bead Sorcerer was his ability to immediately deploy offensive or defensive beads by merely flicking a wrist. Short of actually having his weapon out of its scabbard, there was no way he could be more prepared for combat at any time as long as he was wearing beads on his wrists.

Max blinked when he exited with Amy in a new place and noticed another person, a middle-aged woman, coming out of an identical portal about ten feet away. It looked like there was a row of entry portals on the other side of the large chamber. Max and Amy had just transitioned through one of the entry portals.

He watched the central area workers move to exit portals, adjust something on a pedestal, then walk forward to disappear. The area reminded him a bit of the dungeon entry room in the Quartet Central Area he'd been to before, but this space definitely seemed more of an airport or maybe a modern train station. One thing conspicuously absent was any location to pay at. But the way Amy had described the system, it was all free—just a matter of course for the dungeon-born to use this portal transportation.

Around the perimeter of the large area, Max spotted a number of stationary golems, and when he extended his observation to the ceiling, there were dark orbs that he assumed were some sort of surveillance devices. Interesting, he thought. In his mind, he checked on his spirits. Slick was basically the same as always, almost indecipherable. Saliron didn't care about anything going on in the slightest and instead seemed to analyze the density of every person's bones within sight. Lavinia seemed a bit more energetic now than she had been since Max had contracted the remnant spirit Tom. She hadn't been very talkative, and Max had mostly left her alone, figuring they could chat when she was ready. Current developments were definitely having an effect on her, though. Max doubted even after all the time she lived in the Quartet that she'd ever seen this area, at least not as a living person.

Then again…He thought a question to Lavinia. Have you ever actually seen this place?

No, came the response. This area is not in the Quartet. I've known that it existed, but I've never actually been able to reach it. Spirits can't use portals. Remember, I have to ride in your soul space.

"That's right," responded Max.

Amy led Max to what had to be an exit, and once they were through, he saw what looked like a small shopping center, but with a large open area between the stores, set up with tables and even stages. It was definitely some sort of social gathering area. The businesses were far more plain and utilitarian-looking than most of what he'd seen in the Quartet itself. On the other side of the square, there was another doorway similar to the one he had just left from with the portal room. Max noticed a man coming in through the opposite doorway and realized it was likely a set of portals to the Quartet's farmlands. He was wearing serviceable, dirty clothing.

There were doorways in the other two corners of the square, and Max assumed that they were other portal areas leading to manufacturing or something similar.

Amy led him to a wall of the square where there were several similar doorways to the ones in the corners, just smaller. They went through the rightmost one without speaking, and on the other side was another portal room. Amy walked up to one of this room’s exit portals, fiddled with the podium, and then led him through yet another portal.

As he looked around at his new surroundings, he could almost believe that he was in a hotel lobby back on Earth. Amy grinned at his reaction and led him through a large common room to a bar. She took a seat, and Max sat next to her. Amy ordered a couple of drinks that Max didn't recognize, and then finally turned to speak. "So you’ve seen some of it now. What do you think?"

Max glanced around again. "It's very impressive," he responded honestly. "And I think the most surprising part is how everybody gets around."

"You mean the portals?" asked Amy.

"Yes, I can't even imagine how much power this transit system uses. Or maybe the tech or the magic is so advanced that it barely uses any," he mused out loud.

Amy chuckled. "I have no idea. It's just always been there, ever since I was born. All of that has been there for thousands of years, I think. But I do know that sometimes other Quartet-borns speculate about where they came from." She lowered her voice. "Some of those who dream of escaping this place fancy themselves portal scholars."

"Oh, really?" asked Max.

The bartender, a middle-aged man with a wide face and a stylish hair cut, set drinks on the table in front of the two of them. He wore a towel at his waist. "This is rare. Who's your new friend, Amy?"

Amy smiled and winked. "This is Max Cunningham, the summoner student."

"Oh, neat," said the bartender, smiling and nodding, until suddenly he did a double-take at Max, his eyes widening. "Wait, that Max Cunningham?"

Now Amy was openly grinning. "Yep, I told you I knew him. You said I was lying."

The man flashed a look at Max's badge, which almost nobody had even glanced at or even noticed so far. It made a certain sort of sense to Max. After all, if Challenger students rarely came into these Quartet-born spaces, and Max was not wearing his school uniform, it wasn't likely that the people here would have a reflexive action to check for badges.

"Well, I'll be damned," said the bartender. He shook Max's hand and walked away.

Amy lightly patted Max's arm. "You have no idea how satisfying that was," she said.

"Really?" asked Max.

"Yes. You might not be as well-known among Quartet-born as you are in your academy, at least I'm guessing, but there were a lot of people who really didn't like Hannibal. And it just so happens that he lived in this housing area." She gestured around them.

So their housing areas are like hotels, thought Max. Or maybe...apartments rigged up like hotels. It made sense. It was probably the most economical way to house all the workers that supported the Quartet. "Do you all have room service staff?" he asked.

"Yes, but they only come every three days."

"Gotcha," said Max. He absently took a sip of his drink and was surprised but still managed to get down a burning mouthful. "Alcohol?" he asked.

"Yeah, what were you expecting? We're at a bar," Amy replied. When Max gave her a look, she shrugged. "What? It's my day off."

Max thought about it for a second but decided to go with the flow. After all, Amy was friendly, and she'd given him an absolute treasure trove of information about how the Quartet actually functioned. He finished his drink in one go and then asked, "In that first square we went into, after we took the portal in, the one with all the shops, I saw a total of four corner doors. The one directly ahead of us when we came in, I think I figured that out. That was to farmlands, right? What were the other two doors?"

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Yes. That was farmlands. One of the others goes to textiles, and the other one goes to the hospital and the overflow area," Amy replied, her expression darkening as she took another sip of her drink.

"I see," said Max. “So all the shops in the biggest area are like restaurants and clothing stores and things like that?”

"Yes," said Amy. "Some of them are there because it's more convenient for us to shop closer to home, and some have cheaper items than are sold in the Quartet. After all, most of the things in the Quartet are either luxury goods or really high quality for students who are going to be trusting their life to their equipment." She amended, "Or they're lifers with bags of money to throw around and spend on frivolous things."

She took another sip and finished her drink, then gestured for another round from the bartender. When the new set of drinks came, maybe partially because of the alcohol that was hitting his system, Max bluntly asked, "So why did you really invite me to hang out like this?"

"What do you mean?" asked Amy quizzically. She looked at him over her glass as she took a generous sip.

"You know what I mean," Max pressed. "I mean, I really appreciate all of this. Even though I bought lunch," Amy gave him a wry smile in response to that. "But I mean, I'm sure you have a million ways to spend your day off. Why spend it talking to me?"

Amy finished her drink, put it down on the counter, and said, "Don't make me drink alone, Max. Bottoms up, and I'll answer you honestly, I promise."

Max raised one eyebrow at her but did as she’d asked. Once the glass was down, she folded her arms and pursed her lips.

Amy muttered, "The truth is…maybe I could use a little more alcohol for some liquid bravery." She tapped her finger on the counter and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Whatever drinks she'd ordered, they were really strong. Max hadn't drank in a while either. If he chose to, he could use his mana body to burn off the effects of the alcohol much quicker. However, it was kind of nice to have a glow going on after everything he'd been through, especially in the company of a pretty woman. The situation, or the alcohol, definitely led him to notice Amy's beauty in a less cerebral way than he had before.

When he’d first met her she’d had pink streaks in her hair. Now she’d changed her style. If Max had to describe her simply, he’d say she was a classic beauty. She was just a little on the tall side for a woman, and had generous curves. Her long eyelashes fluttered magically as she talked, and she had big, sparkling eyes.

After a minute or two of awkward silence, Max forced a grin and said, "Okay, that should be enough time for the liquid courage to kick in. Spill it."

Amy quirked a smile and signaled the bartender to hold off on another round. "Okay, look, I'll just say it. There are three types of Quartet-born in general. The first are those that are unhappy and stay unhappy. They channel that anger, that frustration in making others’ lives unhappy, too. The second type or those who either make the best of it, or are always daydreaming schemes to escape. The third type don't do anything productive and just wait for death. A lot of times they find their way to the overflow area." She shook her head. "I'm the second type, an optimist. I mean, I'm alive, I like myself, I like the life that I've made, I’m proud of my hard work, and there's no use getting upset about things I can't change. I didn't even know my parents very well. Like most Quartet-born, I was mostly raised by my teachers.”

“There are schools?" Max asked

She nodded. "Yes. Three of the other living locations each have a school in them, corresponding to different age ranges."

"I see," said Max, and then gestured for her to continue.

"Anyway, all I know about my parents is that my mom was an Elemental Shifter and my dad was a Mystic Spear student. For all I know, they're dead right now. Monster food." She grimaced. "They both left me a letter before they left, though.”

Amy laughed without humor. “I'm trying to act like I don't care, but I do. I still have the letters." She screwed her face up in an expression of old pain before it settled again. "Sorry, that's not what this is about, but maybe the context helps. Anyway, everyone around my age I pretty much grew up with. I don't see other Quartet-born as romantically viable. And maybe part of that is because I don't like the idea that if I ever had children with them, maybe the child would grow up to resent both of us." She held up a finger at Max's look of confusion. "You have no way of knowing this, but a lot of Quartet-born whose parents were Quartet-born resent their parents. Especially the negative types I mentioned, who often see our entire existence as a form of slavery. Maybe a good example would be parents who have health problems they know they will pass on to children, but have children anyway."

She shook her head. "Don't worry, this is not a bid to escape. I'm not going to ask you to take me with you. I know that's impossible. Unlike some others, I'm a realist and I don't have any fantasies of a rich, powerful Challenger whisking me away to another world and away from all of this." She waved around. "Wanna know something I didn’t even realize until I was twenty? I've never actually seen a real sky before in my life." She giggled at her own joke that was not a joke, and Max just continued to listen. He absently took another sip of his drink.

Liquid courage indeed, he thought.

"But I'm not dead, and you know the real tragedy of all this? Deep down, I really am a romantic. And, if I'm going to be honest, I'm a little selfish too. You see, part of the reason I'm so realistic about not being whisked away is because I've actually met many of the rich lifers, and they're not good people. I’d rather gnaw my own arm off than ever have a romantic relationship with a person like that. Truth be told, I would prefer never to see them at all without the protection of being inside my shop. Some of them scare me.

“But even nice students are usually not worth getting to know. Quartet students have other things going on. Most of them don't even have money to go into a shop for more than randomly browsing around until they're in their third or fourth year. In this Quartet, the longest time any student stays here is seven years. That means if I were to meet a man who's a fourth year, the longest my relationship could possibly last would be three years. And I'm not getting any younger.”

“How old are you now?" Max asked.

"Twenty-six," said Amy. She gave a self-deprecating laugh. "And I've never had a boyfriend." She took a gulp of her drink and hid a burp behind her hand. "This feels good to talk about, you know? Kind of cathartic. Probably not really attractive, but it is what it is."

"You're not bothering me at all," said Max.

"Well, that's good, I guess. Either way, I pulled the plug on this tub of…whatever. It’s all going down the drain now. Anyway, the fact is, there are some things about you that were not must-haves if it came to meeting a man, but the fact you have these things is just so ideal it actually makes me nervous. I mean, you're a first year, I think you're handsome, you're already developing a reputation for being powerful and standing up for yourself and others. The lifers are scared of you, or at least cautious of you. You don't treat me like I'm a servant or beneath you, and as far as I know, you've never treated any quartet worker like that. You're assertive in all the ways that many of us wish we could be. You're kind to your friends, and patient," she chuckled and pointed at him. “The present situation is a good example of all that. I barely know you well enough to have invited you out and here I am spilling my guts."

She shook her head. "I am not a stupid person. I may be slow on the uptake sometimes, but I would have to be blind not to notice that one of my best chances for any kind of relationship with a good man, much less a great man is right now. And it's probably the best I'm ever going to get."

"Well, that's kind of grim," said Max.

"That's one way of looking at it," she said, "but like I said, I'm a realist, and more importantly, I'm an optimist. So you say it's grim, but I think it's beautiful, because instead of recognizing this and letting it pass, or not even having a chance, here you are, in my living area, after both of us have had some drinks."

Max looked down at his glass and finished the last of it. "That is true," he admitted.

"So," said Amy, her eyes glinting, "I don't know where this is going to go, and quite frankly, I'm a little nervous about all of it. But, even if all I get out of this is a great experience, and a cool story, that's good enough for me. Because, trust me, my life is good, and I like who I am, but I am definitely short on great stories. Whereas you probably have more than you can count."

Max didn't know how to respond to that. He just looked at Amy, thinking about everything she had said, and wondering what he would do in her situation. There was a prolonged silence until finally, she shotgunned the last of her drink, set it down, and said, "I gotta say this before my courage runs out. Okay, buddy, are you going to come upstairs with me to have a good time? Or am I going to pretend like none of this ever happened and scream into my pillow out of embarrassment at an undisclosed later date?"

Max thought about it. As he did, Saliron suddenly murmured in the back of his mind, "Contractor, I must say, she does have lovely bones."

Oh shit, I forgot the spirits are in here, thought Max. Okay. I want everybody out. You guys can wander around this area until I call for you or I come back.

Wait, Max, are you sure this is a good idea? began Lavinia.

But Max cut her off. If you want to leave one of your spirits to discreetly watch out for any danger, I will accept that. His mental tone was firm.

Lavinia sent him a strong sense of disapproval, that was to be expected. She’d never liked Amy.

Max cared for Lavinia. She was quickly becoming…probably even closer than family to him. But he had noticed that she had a bit of a tendency to attribute more importance to people with power. She and Max might never see eye to eye on that. From Max’s perspective, sure Amy definitely didn't have a lot of power, but what she did have was a lot of bravery and an exceptional amount of heart. That was a type of power on its own. He found it endearing.

"You know what? Fuck it, let's go," said Max.

Amy beamed at him, took his hand, and began leading him to a set of stairs leading to a higher floor.