Chapter 24: We Still Live in a Society (But Now It's a Different One)

The players here in Silver knew a single way to escape these death games and return to our world. And it was quite straightforward: Just keep winning. Eventually you'd rank up to Diamond. Once you got there, you could return home.

Eric fanned himself with his hat. "Not many people who rank up return to tell us what happens in higher ranks. But some do. The rank order goes Silver, Gold, Platinum, Diamond, Legend. It's a long climb to the top. So again, enjoy your time here."

I didn't feel like enjoying my time right now. I wanted to get back home, and there were way too many ranks to go through.

"Hold up, how does Legend work?" I asked. "You said Diamond is where you go home."

"Dunno. Never been to Diamond. Never met a Legend, either."

Legends were, unsurprisingly, the least common rank. To date, Silvercreek only knew the existence of five of them. The five, shrouded in myths, were elusive individuals gossiped about in these lower ranks. No one here knew if any Legends beyond the five existed. Eric told me about each of them:

Dionysus, whose voice held death itself captive.

Doublerift, ruler over the Liberation's Call Syndicate.

Sylvie, the Knight of Anomalies.

6E12, nemesis to existence.

And lastly, The Witch of Roses.

"Those descriptions aren't very helpful," I said.

"They're shrouded in myths," Eric pointed out. “Some folks even say Legends don’t really exist. But don’t listen to them. I think they’re full of bull.”

We soon reached the inner parts of town, on a cobblestone road flanked with buildings on both sides. I spotted a post office, an armory, and a bookshop. Pedestrians and wagons bustled loudly about, and many stopped by the open-air grocery stalls set up by the roadside.

"A clothing store," Saber pointed one out to me. "We'll need to get you a new shirt."

Oh yeah huh, I still had a big exposed hole on my back. I looked around to check if anyone was staring at me. A couple were.

Not that I was too embarrassed about it. My clothes-holes were actually kinda badass, like battle scars. And the air circulation felt nice, especially against my slightly-burnt skin. Though they'd only feel nice in easy-breezy weather. These half-destroyed summer clothes wouldn’t do if the weather was difficult-breezy.

"Maybe later," I finally replied to Saber's offer. "I'm thinking of getting something cheap and replaceable, since they'll probably get destroyed again in the next challenge. Pajamas, maybe?"

"What kind of adventurers wear pajamas?" Jack questioned me.

"I dunno, wizards like me? Don't wizards wear pajamas all the time?"

"No they absolutely do not," he said.

"None of you are running around town in pajamas," Mr. Atlas overruled.

I leaned back against the wall of the cart. "Sheesh, fine."

I just realized how long I had ignored Jack for. If he hadn't spoken, I'd have forgotten he was on the same cart as me. I couldn't explain it, other than saying he just had a really faint presence. Made sense, with him being an assassin and all.

"This is Ring Two of the city," Eric explained. "Here you'll find the commercial areas, and a lot of residential housing. The town's center is Ring One, even though it's technically a circle. There you've got, uh, important buildings. Guild headquarters, the amphitheater, the Combat Institute. Those kinda things. And the outskirts, the farms we passed, that's Ring Three. Think of the city as a dartboard, with three concentric circles."

Our cart took us to Ring One. A high stone wall surrounded it, with massive, reinforced gates that led in and out. A pair of guards stood watch by the gate through which we entered. A spearman and a spellbook-carrying mage. More guards strode around the battlements at the wall's top.

Inside the walls, I saw grand houses of plastered stone, with elegantly sloped rooftops and fountains in their courtyards. The architecture here had a Renaissance-esque flair, with liberal amounts of pillars and arches and spires. People here squeezed their ways about the crowds, wearing armor or drabs or embroidered silk jackets.

We stopped at the Silvercreek City Hall, a stout, large building of white stone and stern symmetry.

"Now you folks head right in." Eric pointed at the double-door entrance. "The ladies and gents inside will take good care of you. Make sure to get your 1500 dollars each. That's what we give newcomers, to get them on their feet."

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"Dollars?" I asked.

"American dollars. United States money, cash only. That's what we use here."

"Wait, but where do they come from?"

"Beats me. Might be handed out by the Liberation's Call Syndicate, but that's just me and my conspiracy."

Eric bid us farewell, then drove off on his horse. We went into the City Hall, gave our names to the town registry, and then claimed our starting cash in neat little leather purses. Inside were 15 hundred-dollar bills, with bona-fide Sir Ben Franklins printed on each one.

The friendly young man at the registrar encouraged us to find jobs, as well as a place to live.

“Most people live in Ring Two,” the man told us. “If you don’t know where to go, it’s a pretty safe option, yeah.”

“What’s the rent?” Mr. Atlas asked.

“Well, it depends on the house, of course. But I wanna say…hmm, I wanna say the normal price is $1100 a month, for three bedrooms. Are any of you a couple?” He smiled.

“No,” I asserted.

“Well if you want, you can also find five-bedroom houses for about $1400. You know, there are actually a lot of them, because that’s just the right size for one team.”

We thanked him, then went out for lunch at a bustling tavern. For the first time in weeks I saw proper hot meals. I heard it was impolite to look at people as they eat, but I couldn't hold myself back. People at the tables helped themselves to fries, steaks and salads, bowls of soup… A waiter came and gave us menus. I stared through the pages.

"THERE ARE CHEESEBURGERS," I shouted.

"You can has cheeseburgers," Hei whispered.

I ate cheeseburger, then I was happy.

In the afternoon, we toured around to find an apartment. In Ring Two, we found a five-bedroom townhouse for surprisingly cheap, at $1050 a month. Like our old cottage, this one had two floors. But in addition it also had a basement.

"What's the catch?" Mr. Atlas asked the landlady, a young, stout woman in pink pajamas.

"Oh, nothing big," the landlady said. "I'm actually really short on cash right now, so I'd prefer to have four months' rent upfront. So $4200 upfront, and you don't have to pay for the next four months."

I looked around to assess the reactions of my teammates. Financial expertise wasn't exactly my forte.

"I need to buy a gun," the landlady added. "Need it for the Fall Challenge."

"How about this," Mr. Atlas said. "First month we pay you for two months. Next month, we pay you another two months. You still get four months' rent before fall, and we get one more month to get our money."

"Oh yeah!" she said. "That's so smart!"

Mr. Atlas did a long sigh through his nose. I could faintly sense the disappointment he had toward us modern youths.

"I need two days to get the place ready," the landlady told us. "In the meantime, you're welcome to stay at an inn."

The entire town only had two inns. We found the one closer to our apartment, a large brick house with a backyard garden, and we booked two rooms. Saber and I shared one. We settled in, and I flopped eagerly into bed, reveling in a much-needed embrace with soft, clean fabric.

In the evening, we went into Ring One to look for employment. It turned out that most townsfolk worked as part of guilds. The town boasted multiple Builder's Guilds and Agriculture Guilds. We visited a few of them, then checked out the Combat Institute, which was a guild in all but name. A recruiter greeted us.

"We devote ourselves to the study of battle," he said. "Our mission is to give all players the skills necessary to survive and win. The finest warriors in town call this place their home." The man wore an orange blazer with matching pants, shiny sunglasses, and had short hair slicked back and gelled. He looked to be in his thirties.

"I'd love to join," Saber volunteered.

"Oh, we have an eager beaver!" The recruiter smiled. "What's your current level?"

"Two."

"Oh, oops-a-daisy. We only want threes and above."

Saber clasped her hands to her chest nervously. She shifted her gaze towards me and Atlas, looking quite lost.

"She's a really great strategist," I vouched. "This guild is basically tailor-made for her. It's the perfect fit, if I've ever seen one. She even plays MOBA in real life."

"This is real life," the recruiter said. "And this," he waved grandiosely, gesturing to the guild hall itself, "this guild ranks top-five in all three P's. Pay, prestige, power. We don't want good; we want excellent."

Saber shuffled her feet around. But only for a moment. She took a deep breath and lowered her hands to her sides. Standing tall, she looked the recruiter in the eye.

"Test me," she said, "and I will prove myself a seasoned warrior."

The recruiter's head tilted in slight surprise. "Oh. Alright. I can do an interview, sure. Make sure your friends don't help."

Saber nodded. "I will stand upon my own merits, else fall."

"Alrighty. Okey-dokey. Hmm…" The man licked his lips, taking his time. "OK, first question. Say you're playing the mid-laner. Your opponent's HP is low, and they recall. What are you supposed to do?"

"It depends on the state of the golem waves in our lane, as well as my wave-clearing capacity, including ability cooldowns, Mana remaining, and whether I have the HP to safely–"

"Yeah, no. You need to kill the enemy golems, then Recall yourself."

Saber nodded. "Right, I was about to say that."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

"I'm a jungler," Saber elaborated. "I have no AoE, uh, area-of-effect attacks. So unless the enemy golem wave is small, I won't be able to clear it quickly enough. Rather, I might need to set up a wave-freeze under my tower."

"I won't comment on that," the recruiter said. "It's alright. You get two more chances."

"Huh?" I said. "I thought she answered pretty well."

"Please, no outside interference," the recruiter said. "Thank youuu~"

I pouted. It honestly felt like Saber should be the one testing him.

"Second question," the man continued. "At the start of the game, how many golems do you need to kill to reach level 2?"

"6 for solo-lanes," Saber said. "8 for duo lane."

The recruiter raised an eyebrow. "...Are you sure?"

Saber nodded firmly. "I have given my final answer."

"Oh my. It looks like you are…correct! The answer is six. And now, for your final question. And I won't go easy on you…hmm. Oh, I shall surely reveal your skills for what they are."

I clenched my fists in anticipation. Go Saber! Kick this interview's ass!

"This is the final question," the recruiter said. "Listen well."