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7.1. Hot Boys Have Problems Too

Vivian scrambled down the shale shingles, sliding more than controlling his fall. The edge loomed up, and he jumped rather than fall wildly. Eyes watched from all across town as he soared over the road, arms and legs wheeling.

“What’s happening?”

“Some kind of Event?”

“He’s an NPC, so it’s gotta be an Event, right?”

“Is it the start of the next Scenario? Should be any time now.”

It’s just a secret boss I’ve procc’d, don’t worry about it! Vivian thought, grinning in fear. He plunged down toward the cobblestones. On instinct, he rolled his body sideways, falling down the length of his body—calves, hips, side, back, shoulders, and he kept rolling, hopped to his feet, and sprinted away.

It doesn’t look cool, but I’m less likely to get injured from that than trying a forward roll without a Skill for it. Vivian glanced over his shoulder.

The bar’s door burst open. Allan charged out, jabbing a finger at Vivian. “Get back here, kitty!”

“Fuck your cat!” Vivian shouted back. He sped up, hurtling down the road.

As he ran past the inn, his eyes widened. Oh! You know, I always wondered where people slept when they stayed the night, since the inn was mostly bar. Ha! I guess they took a dirt nap. Or… at least, a nap in the bartender’s belly!

The bar’s door slammed open again, and Anders joined the chase. Together, Allan and Anders rapidly gained on Vivian, catching up with every step. Vivian cast about, searching for something, anything. Come on. A trick, a twist, something…! Think!

A door opened in front of him. Vivian dodged, barely avoiding the swing. “Watch it!”

Stoic, a dark-haired NPC blinked back at him. Overhead, an oversized wooden pair of scissors hung from a signpost.

Oh, right. Don’t know what I expected. It’s just the barber. A moment later, Vivian glanced up. His eyes widened. A chance!

Jumping up, Vivian grabbed ahold of the signpost. It creaked under his weight, but the metal held. He swung his legs up and balanced his weight at the part close to the wall, rising to a crouch, stretched out along the post. He held one hand out, curled into half a fist.

Dark eyes unreadable, the barber stared up at him.

“Watch out!” Vivian shouted.

Anders and Allan slowed as they reached him, laughing. Anders walked closer, shaking his head. “What is this? The kitty cat treed himself.”

Nudged out of the way, the barber stumbled back. His shoulders hit the wall. Ignoring him, Anders stepped under the signpost. He reached up for Vivian.

Now! Vivian leaped off the signpost. In midair, he called, “Inventory, bandit sword!”

The sword materialized in his hand. He grabbed on tight, and the weight instantly increased. Letting it drag him down, he plunged at Anders.

Allan jumped back. The sword dug into Anders’ shoulder, sticking deep into him. Blood gushed out, and Anders fell back. He staggered.

“Anders!” Allan shouted, concerned.

Releasing the sword, Vivian darted away, putting a few steps between him and the bar bros. Yes! Now for—

Anders stomped, catching himself before he fell. Over his head, a green bar appeared. It sunk, sunk, sunk, then stopped at three quarters.

Vivian cursed under his breath. Damn HP. Never works out for us Players, but it always works out for the damn monsters!

“It isn’t time to make me into ground beef yet,” Anders declared, straightening. He reached to his shoulder and yanked out the sword. Blood sprayed from the wound, and another small sliver of HP vanished. Completely ignoring any pain, he smiled at Vivian. “Thanks for the toothpick, kitty.”

“Hey, you’re welcome,” Vivian said with a small laugh, still backing away. As he did, he glanced around. Alright, I’m dead. Where should I stash my clippers? I don’t want to have to do the cannibal sequence again next time I wake up. Maybe if I toss them into the barber shop…? The cannibals probably won’t go in there to pick up loot, right?

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He looked at the barber. Unless he throws my gear out. I mean, it’s possible. NPCs clean their spaces periodically. And no one knows where the trash goes. The trash dimension?

The barber looked at him. His brows furrowed faintly.

Right, probably not a good idea, Vivian thought.

His eyes darted to the rubbernecking Players. In any case, they’re the bigger issue. If someone randomly picks up my clippers… I mean, who’d pick up clippers, right? But there’s collector-Players, and people who’d pick up anything that’s worth Gold, and even hobbyists and roleplayers who’d love to clip hedges all day in the Garden of Lost Souls.

Allan circled around with him, subtly blocking him off. Vivian backed away from both cannibals, very aware of the wall quickly approaching him from behind. I don’t have much time. Something. Anything.

Maybe my best option is to let the cannibals have them. At least then they’re guarded by a trio of mini-bosses. Plus, there’s always next time. I can keep replaying the scenario until I perfect it. It’s not like losing them to a Player, who might fuck off into the real world and vanish forever with my precious clippers.

A Player in white armor stepped forward, pushing the other Players back. “What’s going on? Explain yourself!”

An awkward silence stretched. Vivian slowly backed up, mind still working.

Another Player coughed. “Er, it’s NPC on NPC violence. Some kind of Scenario, we think. No one’s breaking the town truce.”

“Oh, really?” the white-armored Player said. He looked at Vivian. “Scan!”

Scan, my ass! If you’re going to intervene, then intervene, don’t stand there on the sidelines and half-ass it! Vivian shouted silently, annoyed.

“NPC… NPC, NPC.” Nodding to himself, the white-armored player stepped back.

Fuck off, referee. You’re calling the match wrong, Vivian thought. He summoned the rake, still watching Anders.

“If you aren’t going to come at me, then I’ll have to come to you!” Anders shouted, charging Vivian. At the same moment, Allan raced at Vivian from behind, sandwiching him in.

Vivian slammed the rake up with both hands, pointing the butt toward Anders and the tines toward Allan. Allan dug in his heels, but too late. His forehead struck the tines with a tinggg! Propelled by the force of Allan’s momentum, the butt jabbed into Anders’ face.

Anders struck the butt of the rake. He reeled back, rubbing his forehead. His HP ticked down.

Dropping the rake, Vivian ran at Anders, summoning his clippers as he ran. He stabbed the clippers into Anders’ gut. The last of the HP ran down. Blood coursed from Anders’ wounds. He staggered, his eyes rolling back. He swung left and right, then toppled to the ground, thudding down with a crash.

Level +2!

Vivian raised his eyebrows. He grinned and gestured Allan on. Two out of three ain’t bad. Let’s go for completion.

Allan roared. His face went red. A vein throbbed in his forehead. He clenched his hands, his jaw clenching. He pointed at Vivian, hand shaking. “You—how dare you!”

“You’re the one eating people,” Vivian replied, shrugging.

“You’ll pay for that,” Allan growled.

“For you eating people?” Vivian asked.

Allan’s teeth ground. He ran at Vivian again.

“Oh, watch your feet—”

Allan stepped on the rake’s tines. The rake leaped up and smacked him in the face.

Vivian sighed. “I warned you.”

Screaming incoherently, Allan threw the rake away and charged Vivian again. The rake clattered away, bouncing off the random Players clustered around them.

Vivian raised his clippers. Here he comes.

A blur flashed behind Allan. Silver flashed at his neck, and his throat opened. Blood spurted. Allan clutched his neck. His HP drained rapidly.

Oooh, love to see Critical damage, Vivian thought, raising his eyebrows. He watched as Allan fell onto his face, revealing the shadow behind him. Which Player finally decided to kill steal?

The barber stood there, pinstraight black bangs flowing in the breeze. He met Vivian’s eyes and scoffed. Twirling a pair of silver scissors, he neatly flicked the blood off, then sheathed them in a short black apron. He turned, and without another word, he vanished into the barber shop.

Recruit! Recruit! I want to recruit him! Vivian thought, his eyes sparkling. He raced into the barber shop. You can recruit some NPCs, and I’m about to recruit this one!

Even as he shoved open the door, a thousand Players rushed in over him, trampling him in their excitement to get in. Battering Vivian aside, they charged at the barber.

“Recruit!”

“Rec—hey! I was about to say that!”

“Recruit, fifty Gold!”

“Recruit, five hundred Gold, dammit!”

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“My god, he’s hot. Hold still, let me grab my phone.”

“I’d like a haircut!”

“Excuse me, do you have a quest? You’re a quest Recruit unit, right?”

“Like, oh my gosh! Are you kidding me? Do NPCs this hot really exist?”

The barber scoffed and turned away.

Hey, hold on. Why isn’t anyone trying to recruit me? Vivian frowned at the crowd, then shook his head. Is it because I don’t look like a K-pop star? Is that why? I’m not ugly. I’m… at least average!

The Players crowded in, filling the small barbershop to its fullest. Elbows flew, and weapons and armor clanged. A few shouted at one another, all of them shoving to get closer to the hot barber.

Shoved into a corner, Vivian frowned. He raised a hand to his chin. Actually, I feel like I’ve seen him before. But where? Why? I…

A man. Holding a sword. His hair slicked back, eyes dangerous, a single white streak marring pitch-black hair. He stood over a dozen monsters, all of them cleft in twain. Swishing his sword, he drew it out, then sheathed it slowly, clicking it into place.

Who is that? But… I have to admit, this guy looks like a younger version of whoever that was.

If that’s the case… if this barber looks like a person I knew in the real world, then… is it possible? Vivian looked up sharply, meeting the barber’s eyes from across the room. He blinked, then mouthed, “Are you a real boy?”

The barber scoffed again. He rolled his eyes, but subtly nodded toward the back of the shop. In an hour, he mouthed back.

Vivian raised his eyebrows. Now I’m convinced. He’s like me! Then… could it be? Does he know why we’re NPCs, but awake?