I made my base in an abandoned hotel. Looking from the outside, no one would be able to tell it was meant to house people. It was a tall and solemn edifice. Its facade of dark glass stretched featureless over silent, steel frames. I had picked room 2217 as my own; that was on the 22nd floor, in the top half of the building. It was a single studio room with a bathroom, and it offered me an adequate view of the surroundings. Across the street stood a half-constructed parking lot, unlit and painted with faded graffiti. From my room, I could see a slice of the sea.

There was no room service and no staff. If there was anyone else in the hotel, I had never met them. But it still had electricity and water. I had found the place only a day after I arrived here, and I picked it because it was free. It seemed safe enough as a hideout. I made sure to keep the curtains drawn most of the time, so no one could see that I lived here. Not that getting attention would necessarily be a bad thing, and I could relocate without much trouble. But at this point, I'd rather avoid surprises if possible.

The bed was large and had clean sheets. I slept a lot better than in Gold, despite neither having proper day-night cycles. In a corner of the room was a desk, where I kept my things. My team notebook was relegated to one corner where it collected dust.

Weeks passed by as I waited aimlessly for the next Seasonal Challenge. I didn't really have much of a plan coming here. There wasn't anyone I needed to protect, not anymore. Nor were there enemies I needed to hunt down.

I picked up an abandoned bike, which became my main mode of transportation. I rode freely over the pavements; it wasn't like any pedestrians were around to walk on them anyways. The streets were always so quiet. I never came across anyone, ever since I met that nameless youth at McDonalds.

Naturally, the solitude caused some degree of unease, but I didn't quite hate it. It was just another phase of the Death Game that I needed to weather through.

Things weren't too bad, really. Shops lined the innumerable streets of the city. Most goods sold for cheap. I bought myself several much-needed changes of clothes, including a second white coat. I got a pair of binoculars, as well as a new, high-end laptop.

The only real expensive things were the magical items. Once in a while there'd be a magical item store, selling longswords or wands, sandwiched between apparel stores and cafes and what-have-you. I browsed through them a couple times, but few things caught my eyes. My loadout was already better than most things money could buy here. I had expected some overpowered loot for sale in Platinum, but the best equipment offered still felt middling.

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That was, until a new store opened, a few blocks inland of where I lived.

I wasn't paying attention, and I didn't know how the place got set up. Before it was just an empty room with glass walls looking in. But the next time I saw it, only a couple days later, it had turned into a fully stocked shop.

I wandered in. Now this place was more like it. Robots staffed the cash register, and magical glyphs guarded the walls and entryway. And the equipment – actual endgame, high-tier stuff. In one corner was a golden set of plate armor that offered 50% damage reduction. Even with my funds from the Bounty Hall, I couldn't afford it. And there were bows that dealt elemental AoE explosions on hit. That seemed like a game-changer for any archer.

What caught my eye was a mask that hung in a corner. It was white like porcelain, and decorated with gold and rubies. I had seen a replica of it before, once, in a museum in Silvercreek.

Mask of the Lost Shadow. +15 Arcana Points. Causes the wearer's magical attacks to also corrode their targets, dealing 10% max HP as damage over 5 seconds.

It costed a hefty $84,900, but I could afford to pay the price if I really wanted to.

I had another problem: I only had one attunement slot left. Many combat-oriented magical items required "attunement," which meant forming a personal bond with the items. The process tended to be simple, such as holding onto an item for an hour. Any player could attune to a max of three items at once. My Magus Battlehat required attunement, as did my protective necklace, Defense of the Ancients Mk. II. My gun didn't, despite the sweat and blood I had poured into it, and neither did my Ring of Pursuit.

That left a single attunement slot. Did I want to commit it to the Mask of Lost Shadows?

But hey. The mask did 100% max HP over 50 seconds. I could kill practically anything in under a minute. That must be worth it.

Footsteps sounded at the entrance. I turned to find three strangers. A man and a lady, both in suits and sunglasses, on either side. Between them stood a tall warrior with spiked plate armor and a skull-shaped helmet that encased his entire head. Red dots flickered within the dark sockets of the skull's eyes.

If media literacy was ever a thing, these folks weren't gonna be nice people.

They walked in lockstep towards me. I gulped and stepped away. They didn't follow. Instead, the skull knight lumbered up and grabbed the mask.

"This is it," he said, his voice a low, hoarse rumble. He sounded like Darth Vader, except without the respiratory issues.

But you know what? People say not to judge a book by its cover. Did I really want to presume the content of his character, based on his fashion sense? Based on his voice, of all things?

"Excuse me," I said, as politely as I could. The skull knight and the two suited strangers turned to face me.

"I really like that mask," I explained, "and I got here first. Would it be alright if I have it?"

In perfect unison, the two strangers brandished pistols and aimed at my chest.