“Ah! There you are!”
Vivian turned.
The young Player from earlier ran up to him. He held up a small, shiny object. “Clippers!”
Vivian blinked. He leaned in, then pulled a face. “You’re kidding, right?”
The young Player tipped his head. Defensively, he said, “Toenail clippers. They’re clippers.”
“Are they dirty? Gross. I don’t want those,” Vivian said.
“What? So picky. NPCs are the worst,” the young Player complained.
Vivian rolled his eyes. “I’ll go on a toenail-clippers-sized quest with you. How’s that sound to you? Shitty? Yeah, I feel the same way!”
“Hey! You can’t cuss,” the Player said, taken aback.
“Listen, kid. What’s your name?”
“Noah,” the Player said.
“Noah. Listen. What would you do for a pair of toenail clippers?”
Noah looked at the clippers in his hand.
“A dirty pair,” Vivian stressed.
“But you said—”
“I meant gardening clippers. Hedge clippers. And I have a pair now, so I don’t need another pair,” Vivian said, holding them up.
“But you said you’d go on a quest with me,” Noah said, pouting.
“Yeah, well, sometimes, people lie. And sometimes, people get filthy toenail clippers when what they want were hedge clippers,” Vivian said, shrugging.
Noah sniffed. He turned away.
Alright. Calm down, Vivian. Stop bullying the kid. I wanted a Player in my party, and now I’ve got one! So what if he’s like… twelve. He’s a real Player, with a real Class. Deep breaths. Vivian turned to Noah with a smile, stuffing his complaints back. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was joking.”
Noah looked up. He grinned. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“Jeez, some NPCs just don’t stop talking,” Noah muttered to himself.
“What? I—” Vivian asked.
“Skip. Skip. Skip.”
Vivian frowned. “Seriously. What?”
“Mark said if you say skip three times, the NPCs have to skip all the useless dialogue,” Noah informed him.
“If you say skip one more time, I’ll never stop talking,” Vivian replied.
Noah opened his mouth.
Vivian raised his eyebrows. He turned to walk away.
“Okay, okay. So… are you a party member now? I don’t see you in my party menu,” Noah said, eyes de-focusing as he flipped through his screens.
“No. But don’t worry, I’m in your party,” Vivian said. He narrowed his eyes at Noah. I… don’t want to party with a twelve-year-old. I’ll give it a try—any port in a storm, after all—but I’m not going to officially join his party until he’s proven himself. I do not want to end up as a babysitter.
Besides, who knows? Maybe the kid has party-quitting penalties on, and I'll get punished for leaving his party. It's unlikely, since that costs Gold... but still.
Noah hesitated, then walked forward, looking hesitantly over his shoulder to see if Vivian would follow. “So… quest?”
“What class are you?” Vivian asked, tucking his hands behind his head as he walked after Noah. I'm coming, kid. No worries.
“Mage,” Noah said proudly.
Vivian frowned. Mages are pretty strong. They’re backline units, for sure, but most parties would jump at having a mage. Is it just because he’s young? I get that. There are lives at risk here. It's reasonable to not want to risk your life by putting a twelve year old in their party.
Wait, hold on. Aloud, Vivian mused, “Can people under eighteen enter the Tower, legally?”
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Noah jumped. “I-I’m eighteen.”
“Pull the other one, kiddo,” Vivian replied. Still have that little kid voice, and you’re ‘eighteen?’ Sure.
Some countries let people younger than eighteen put in to gain a Class and thus gain the right to enter the Tower, but he doesn’t look like he’s from one of those countries. Does explain why no one’s reported him yet. Seems like the kid doesn’t know that, either… well, that’s his problem, not mine.
They turned onto the main road out of the Starter Town. Vivian glanced around, but no sign of the armored slime appeared around them. Seems like those noob-scammers have moved on for now.
“I am, though,” Noah insisted, frowning at Vivian.
He raised his eyebrows at Noah, choosing not to regale that comment with a reply. “So… what’re you doing in here? How’d you even get inside? Aren’t all the entry points guarded?”
Noah scowled. “I’m eighteen. Shut up.”
“Alright, alright,” Vivian said, shaking his head. Touchy subject, huh?
“I’m gonna say skip again,” Noah muttered.
“Try it. What quest are we doing, magekid?” Don’t tell me. Black Pigbeast? What other entry-level quests are there? Vivian stood on his tiptoes, scanning the low-level hunting ground as they walked down it. I'm sure there's others, I just can't remember them. Something about a big chicken, maybe...?
Noah swallowed. He clenched his fists into his robes and glanced at Vivian out of the corner of his eye, bracing for a blow before he spoke. “The Garden of Lost Souls!”
“No, but seriously,” Vivian replied, flat.
“I’m serious! What other quest would I want a Gardener for?” Noah returned, annoyed.
Vivian cocked a brow. “What level are you?”
Noah crossed his arms. “E—Eleven.”
Right, so he’s lying, but why lie about such a petty achievement? You can hit ten in a week from cutting hair. He hasn’t even hit the level twenty difficulty spike, where you basically have to start farming monsters for EXP. Until then, it’s pretty much anything goes for levels.
Vivian sighed. Whatever. I need to head back to the Garden anyways, see if I can find that tool shed, so it's no big deal.
They reached the bottom of the hunting ground and came out onto the main thoroughfare between the Starter Town and the later parts of Floor One. A gloomy bell rang in the distance, swinging from the belltower atop Belltower Heights.
“Alright, noob, so why do you want to die in the Garden? Have a thing for roses?” Vivian asked, breaking the silence.
“You’ve got a big mouth for a level seven,” Noah muttered.
“You’re real small for a level eleven. Maybe I should go report you, after all.”
“No, no, no,” Noah said, shaking his head.
Vivian sighed. “Seriously. If I had a conscience, I’d report you. The Tower isn’t a place for kids. People die here.”
“You’re an NPC. What do you care?” Noah grumbled.
“You know what, you’re right. What do I care?” Vivian responded lightly. Kid wants to kill himself, that’s his problem.
Pouting, Noah crossed his arms. He scowled. A few seconds passed, and then he shook his head and took a deep breath. “I know it’s crazy. I wouldn’t do it, but I need a drop from the Garden. A special rose. I don’t have an option.”
Didn’t we just establish that I don’t care? Vivian sighed. “Go on.”
“I live in an Exclusion Zone, and my mom is sick with some magical disease. The only thing that can help it is a rose from the heart of the Garden,” Noah confessed, looking at his feet.
“Why do you live in an Exclusion Zone?” Vivian asked, frowning.
“What?” Noah asked.
Exclusion Zones stretched over small areas, usually near the Tower. Filled with monsters and NPCs, Events, Scenarios, and mini-Bosses, they acted as small enclaves of the Tower's world outside the walls of the Tower. They rarely lasted long, either, with Climbers and Players eager to earn the rewards for destroying them. Conquering the Exclusion Zone's Boss destroyed the Exclusion Zone, and the Bosses usually dropped Legendary Skills. Compared to searching the Tower for Legendary Skills, it could be much faster to destroy an Exclusion Zone.
Vivian nodded. Right, so considering all that... “Exclusion Zones aren’t big and they don’t last long, so why live there?”
Noah blinked at him. “Are you from the First Generation? The hell?”
“What?” Vivian asked.
Noah rolled his eyes at him. “Oh, right. He’s an NPC. Of course he doesn’t know what’s happening outside in the real world.”
“Hey now,” Vivian complained.
“Exclusion Zones are huge, nowadays. No one can defeat them anymore. They’re getting bigger and bigger, and if you aren’t rich and can’t afford to move, then you live in the Exclusion Zone, okay?” Noah said, crossing his arms.
Vivian frowned. “What about the monsters?”
“You just—if you’re lucky enough to get a good Class, you fight them off, and if you can’t, then, then you pay the local Party to protect you,” Noah grumbled. He scowled. “I don’t want to talk about this. Can we not?”
Damn. Can’t fault him for entering the Tower anymore. If that’s really true, then it’s no safer outside the Tower than inside. How can people allow children to live like that?
Vivian shook his head. Even in what little I remember, children lived in warzones and died in famines. I guess… people don’t care, unless it’s their own children in danger.
Looking over Noah, Vivian took in his gear, the tattered and too-big robes poorly modified to fit a child’s frame, his filthy hands and worn fingernails, his wild and slightly-too-long hair. A young Player with only a few levels to his name, wearing old gear, barely enough Gold to rub together. How long can he continue like this? I bet he sells all the Gold he makes to support his family, but he’ll stay locked here on the first floor farming Gold forever that way, unable to invest the money to buy the gear he’ll need to make it on the second floor or beyond. Gold isn’t easy to come by at the lower levels. Hit fifty or so, and you’ll have more Gold than you know what to do with, but at level ten? You’re barely making enough to buy what you need as a Player. And if anything gets destroyed… good luck.
I’ve made a ton of Gold in no time, but I’m a bit stronger than a twelve year old. Plus, I made that money PKing and by killing bandits. A twelve-year-old level ten isn’t going to be able to do either of those. Especially not PKing.
Besides, if you consider the amount I made, and deduct groceries and rent, clothes, everything it takes to have a family and raise kids… it’s a drop in the bucket.
He sighed. Well, on that cheerful note… “We’re almost to the Garden. Look sharp, kiddo. And stick close by me. I can get past the Lost Ones, and steer you through to the center.”
“Yeah. Thanks,” Noah muttered, nodding vaguely. He stood upright and brandished a worn and scarred tome from within his clothes.
Vivian walked on. The Garden loomed, fog already swirling in the road, sun already muted. The pale light of the flowers glowed, beckoning them in.
Feels like home.