Pete awoke early the next morning. When he stepped outside, the warm humidity hung in the air. He could almost feel it sticking to his skin. The temperature and cool breeze made for a comfortable ambiance. He inhaled a deep breath and continued through the town.

His first stop for the morning was at a wide building on the opposite end of the town. Above the front door, a sign hung. It read Timmy the Tailor.

Pete went through the front door. He froze in place, confused, a strong smell of leather filling his nostrils. To the left, he saw a rack set parallel to the wall. On it hung different designs and sizes of leather armor.

A glass display case was along the wall to the right. A careful shop owner had laid belts, wristbands, and other accessories beneath the glass. In a way, it resembled a game of Tetris, using every inch of space.

Someone had moved empty tanning racks to each of the back corners. Straps of leather hung from a wooden frame at the center of the racks. When in use, those straps would hold a hide in place for the sun to dry, turning it into leather. The frame attached to five-foot posts that formed legs on each side.

On the far wall, long rows of shelves held folded squares of leather and cloth. Two separate tables filled the room’s center. One was a large square, one a long rectangle. The square table held what looked like tools for leatherwork. He wasn’t familiar with any of them. The more extended table had spools of thread and needles.

At the leatherworking table, a woman sat. She was an elf with messy black hair that hung to her shoulders. She wore a blue leather tunic, black hose, and knee-high leather boots with buckles. A dusty apron covered her tunic; black, fingerless bracers protected her hands. She held an awl in her right hand. Other tools were in a tool bag. A thick belt kept the bag on her left hip. As Pete entered the store, she stood and asked. “Can I help you, sir?”

“I’m…sorry…” Pete stuttered, thrown off guard by two things: the woman’s beauty and the store’s setup. “…umm… I hope I’m in the right place. That is to say… ummm… Is this the tailor? Timmy… was that his name? Was it something else? I’m not sure…” he gathered himself enough to finish his question. “Am I in the right place?”

“Timmy’s my dad.” She smiled. Laying the awl on the table. “My name is Tay. Can I help you with something?”

“Are you a leatherworker or a seamstress?” Pete asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Which?” He let inquisitive wrinkles form on his brow.

She blinked, letting a neutral expression form on her face and tapping her chin. After three taps, she let a proud grin form on her face and answered with confidence. “Both. I can do both.”

“Oh,” Pete hesitated, gathering his thoughts, still distracted by the pretty seamstress… leatherworker… uh… both… “I guess that explains why I didn’t see a leatherworker in town.”

“That explains it.” She agreed. “How can I help you?”

“Well, you see my shirt?” He asked. It was a dumb question. Of course, she saw his shirt. Unless she was blind… Was she blind? She didn’t seem to be blind. “You aren’t blind, are you?”

“Am I blind?” She laughed. “Of course, I’m not blind. What do you need? Wait. Let me guess. You need someone to repair the holes in your shirt?”

“How’d you guess?” He chuckled.

“I’m perceptive.” She hopped up from the table with an unnatural grace. It was almost like she floated back down to the ground, landing in a standing position. “Let me see.” She glided over to him, placing her right palm near the hole on his shoulder. She ran the finger of her other hand along the torn cotton.

Pete tried to keep his cool. “So…ummm… You think you can fix it?”

“Yeah,” she stepped back, placing a hand on each hip and tilting her head to the side. “Won’t be too hard to fix. I can have it done in ten minutes.”

“Great,” Pete sighed with relief. “If it isn’t too much trouble, I needed something else.”

“Okay,” she squinted her left eye and leaned forward, hands still on her hips. “I’ve heard this before. You aren’t going to ask me on a date, are you?”

“What? No…of course, not…” He couldn’t help but blush, eyes widening with embarrassment. He was quick to explain. “I needed pajamas and a swimsuit.”

“Relax,” she leaned back, offering a playful smile. “I was kidding. Pajamas, you said? I could make you a pair. What’s a swimsuit?”

“It’s like shorts but used for swimming. They go down past the knee.” He used his finger to point to a spot on his shin. As the conversation became more familiar, he felt his blood pressure going down. “Like down to here.”

“So, you need weird pants, pajamas, and repairs on your shirt?” She raised a questioning eyebrow. “But no date? You sure?”

“I’m sure…” He squeaked. As attractive as the elf was, Pete didn’t know how long he’d be in Greenlake. He could save Round in a week and then be back on Earth. On the other hand, he could spend his whole life in Greenlake without ever fulfilling his role as Round’s savior. Until things settled…until he knew what his new normal was…he didn’t want to enter a relationship with anyone. Plus, he still liked Zoey. Even though they weren’t a couple, going on a date with someone else would feel like cheating. He should have told Zoey how he felt while he still had a chance. “… How much will it cost?”

“No date, huh? Your loss.” She shrugged, winking. “At least you know where I am if you change your mind.”

Pete felt himself blushing again.

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

“As far as cost…” she pursed her lips to the side, pointing her eyes up, and then mumbling to herself before saying. “How does 60 len sound?”

“Sounds great.” Pete agreed. “How long will it take?”

She pursed her lips to the other side. “Give me an hour.”

“Cool…I’ll see you then.”

Fifteen minutes later, Pete found a quiet black sand beach along the lake. To ensure privacy, he’d picked a spot east of town. He’d never seen black sand before, so he examined it. Was it volcanic? It appeared to be. He thought it was cool. Aside from never seeing black sand, he’d never seen volcanic sand before.

Before jumping into the lake, Pete kicked off his shoes. When he went to empty his pockets, he remembered how all his items had moved to the void that was his inventory. He wasn’t sure how it worked, but he figured they’d be safe there so long as he didn’t summon anything while he swam.

With his pants still on—his shirt back with the seamstress named Tay—he inched his way into the shifting tide.

The wet sand tickled between his toes; the cool current lapped against his feet. The water was fresh and inviting. It reminded him of swimming in his neighborhood pool in the early fall. Even with the overcast sky, it was still warm enough to swim. Though, when winter came—he wondered if Greenlake had winters—he’d have to find a different way to take a bath.

With his first step, the water rose to his knee, sucking his jeans against his leg. He continued until he was waist-high. Then he dove at an angle, remaining below the surface and moving parallel with the coast.

As much as he enjoyed swimming on Earth, in Round, he felt like an Olympic gold medalist. He wasn’t sure if it was his attribute bonuses from leveling up or his imagination. But for some reason, moving through the water seemed natural, effortless.

He could feel an undertow; it tugged at the whole of his body. Yet, it didn’t scare him, and he pulled away from it, maneuvering with ease. He made a note of the potential hazard and decided to be safe and remain near shore.

Most days, he wouldn’t waste so much time in the morning. But he hadn’t bathed in so long, plus he had to wait for Tay to finish his commission, so he took advantage of the downtime. He zipped this way and that. He zoomed that way and this.

When he began to tire, he swam until he was knee-high and sat in the water. His legs declined down the eulittoral of volcanic sand. He let the tide rise to his chest before dipping to his waist. His only regret was that he didn’t have any soap. He’d need to find some. If soap didn’t exist, he’d need to figure out what the other people used.

He’d already learned they used a paste made from mint and clean leaves to brush their teeth. After, they’d rinse with an alcohol solution similar to Earth’s mouthwash before spitting it out. He didn’t know what clean leaves were, but with a happy heart, he had adopted the practice.

As he allowed his mind to daydream, he didn’t notice the shadow beneath the surface, hidden on the other side of a dark, reflective water face. However, that shadow saw him, and it crept closer. In the meantime, Pete closed his eyes, leaning back and taking in the sun as its rays began to pierce through the clouds overhead.

The shadow moved closer, unnoticed until feet separated it from him. It leaped from the water: splashing him in the face, sending adrenaline through his body, and causing him to jump back with a start. With frantic confusion, he kicked his legs and pushed himself backward with his arms like bicycle pedals. He didn’t stop until he was out of the water.

When his eyes focused on his ambusher, he saw a girl’s head staring back. She giggled, ducking back down beneath the surface.

He saw a scaley tail break the surface, propelling the girl back into the lake. Was she a mermaid? He guessed she was. He’d have to ask Mod about the lake later, see if it had mermaids.

As things were, it was time for him to retrieve his shirt, pajamas, and swimsuit. After, it was time for him to get to Mod’s Bakery… No, he reminded himself it wasn’t Mod’s Bakery anymore… It was M and P’s Pizzeria and Baked Goods. It was a long name. Pete decided he’d refer to it as the pizzeria for short. He sighed as he pushed himself to his feet and began back toward town.

Pete couldn’t even see a seem where Tay had repaired the holes. With the repaired garb, he worked within the confines of the pizzeria. While Pete slapped out the dough and made the sauce, he found himself alone. Mod had gone to look for some cheese, sausage, bacon, vegetables, and other toppings for the pizzas.

If Mod couldn’t collect all the ingredients Pete wanted, it wasn’t the end of the world. It helped that Pete had the turkey pepperoni. Though, they knew the pepperoni wouldn’t last forever, not even with three-thousand of them. To prepare for the future, Mod had brought some of the pepperonis to show them to the butcher. If the butcher could supply future pepperoni, they wouldn’t have to worry about running out.

Pete hoped that Mod could gather a few other meats for the all meat pizza that Pete had promised Nick. In reality, he hoped Mod could gather all the meats so the pizza would have an appropriate name. Was it possible to gather all the meats? Pete knew it wasn’t. Still, it wouldn’t stop him from trying.

As Pete worked, he looked over the restaurant’s new arrangement. They’d pushed some of the displays nearer the wall. That way, they could put two dine-in tables inside. They’d added two additional tables outside.

Later in the afternoon, the new pixie hires would show up for training. Everything seemed to be lining up. If they could make it through the next few days, the pizzeria would become famous. Pete refocused on the doughball in front of him, and he began to slap.

“You won’t save the world by making pizzas all day.” A voice spoke from one of the tables that had been empty.

This time, Pete didn’t react. He was getting used to jump scares. Instead, he snapped his eyes toward the voice.

It was Max, sitting in one of the chairs. The cat’s legs crossed under the table. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, his fingers interlocked under his chin. Instead of a pink shirt, this time, he wore a white tuxedo with a black bowtie, a red cape draped around his shoulders.

“I won’t be able to save the world.” Pete snapped back. “If I don’t know what I’m supposed to save it from. You left that part out.”

“Oh,” Max laughed. “So, I did.”

Pete waited for Max to continue. When the cat didn’t, Pete prodded. “…and?”

“And I’m worried you need to figure out how to get stronger faster. You’re taking too much time. You need to power level.” Max told him.

Pete answered. “I can’t PL. It’s against the laws of the moderators. My alignment is lawful good. Literally, I can’t break the law. It’s on my character sheet.”

“You can power level without breaking the laws of the moderators. You need to get creative.” Max insisted. “Don’t pretend you don’t know how to follow the rules while still breaking the game. That’s always how you played JRPGs on your home consoles.”

Pete opened his mouth to protest, but what Max said was true.

Max continued. “You’d find a power leveling area and gain thirty levels, capping every skill and ability. Then you’d cruise to the end of the game, stronger than everything you came across. Right?”

“It’s different here. I can’t help you. You have the wrong guy.” Pete hung his head. He loved the feeling of adventure he felt in Greenlake. Even so, if Round needed a hero, Pete didn’t see himself as the best choice. It would be selfish for him to remain without fulfilling his role. “Can you send me back to Earth? Find someone else?”

Max lifted his palm to his face, scratching the top of his head with his fingertips and exhaling a breath of disappointment. “I’d expected better from you, Pete. I’ll repeat it. You need to get creative. To help you foster your creativity…I’ve brought you…some help.”

“Help?” Pete asked.

Instead of answering with words, Max lifted his hand and snapped. A familiar, blinding white filled the room. When it dissipated, Pete half-expected to find himself somewhere else. He didn’t; he was still in the pizzeria.

When Pete looked around, Max was gone. Nonetheless, Pete noticed something else. Something that took his breath away. A woman was on the floor. She leaned back on her right elbow, shaking cobwebs from her mind, her left hand against her forehead. It was someone who Pete knew well; it was Zoey.