I sat in the Rob Roy Cafe. The little convenience store and restaurant was as gloomy and quiet as it usually was, which suited me just fine. For the past few weeks, I’d eaten breakfast and lunch here almost every day. I’d sit in my usual corner booth, watching the building’s other residents pass by and the occasional outsider walk in.

“Morning, Mr. Kalyan.” said Cassandra Neuville. Proprietress of the Rob Roy Cafe and Landlady of the building.

She came out from the kitchen of the cafe with her usual clipboard and pen. Her dark, gray-blue, hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. Her dark blue eyes were heavily lidded making her look perpetually sleepy. She was wearing a skirt today showing off a pair of long tan legs. The limbs were toned and gracefully athletic because the woman was a jogger.

I was Mr. Kalyan. Kalyan was my last name. What’s that? You’re wondering how I got a last name? Simple. I got it when Margot and I first became players for the players league.

The CS Corporation had a lovely service that allowed familiars like myself to be smoothly naturalized into our contractors’ nation of origin.

Thus I became an American Citizen, which naturally meant I needed a last name, since every piece of paperwork from now till the end of time would be expecting me to have one.

I chose Kalyan because Prospero, Fortunato, and Lachance felt a little too on the nose. Names that gave hints to one’s true nature were often rewarded by the universe, but being too obvious could backfire socially by drawing too much attention. Kalyan, which meant beautiful and auspicious, straddled the line quite nicely.

“Morning, Ms. Neuville.” I said. Smiling.

“I’m guessing you’ll be wanting the usual again, Montgomery?” said Cassandra.

“You know me too well, Ms. Neuville.” I said.

My “usual” was five orders of whatever the day’s special was. Cassandra and her staff were all excellent cooks so I never really needed to worry too much about the quality of what I was eating. I just needed to make sure that there was enough food because thanks to my contract with Margot I was a growing boy again.

“Oh, hush with that Ms.Neuville crap, Monty. I’ve already told you, you can call me Cass.”

“Alright, alright...I can’t really help it...back where I’m from things are a lot more formal than here.” I said. Thinking of the couple world’s that I’d visited before my long nap.

“And that’s where exactly?” said Cassandra. Boldly fishing for details.

“Oh, you know...Not here.” I said. Chuckling.

She clucked her tongue at me and shook her head. Then after a moment she said,

“Will you be having coffee or tea today?”

“I’m thinking tea for today. It looks like it’ll rain. Oh, and maybe a nice big cup of warm beef and potato soup with extra beef in it? Er...to go?” I said. Glancing to the side, my eyes sliding off the woman’s face.

Cass rolled her eyes.

“Let me guess. You’ve got the little one hiding inside that hat of yours again.”

I chuckled again. This time looking sheepish.

“Sorry about that...It’s just that I can’t really leave her inside the apartment on her own, and it’d be hard to get a trustworthy pet sitter. My girl’s not like other dogs, you know.” I said.

“Oh, I know...Bring her out here. It’s a wonder the little thing doesn’t suffocate in there.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I said. Loosing a breath that was both a chagrined sigh and a sigh of relief.

I took off my hat. A simple gray and black bucket hat. I placed the hat on the table and tapped the side. Then I lifted the hat, placing the hat back on my head and leaving a moderately confused looking green puppy sitting on the table.

Mint sat on her haunches. Blinking her large dark eyes. Then as she caught the scent of food, she stood up. Pacing around on the table, not quite chasing her tail. Her confusion quickly forgotten. I made sure to catch her before she leapt off the table, and ran for the kitchen.

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Despite pets being forbidden for the restaurant, there were two big exceptions to the rule. The first was service animals. The second were the pets of those people that had gotten on Cassandra’s good side. As such, it wasn’t too unusual a sight to see a turtle, or kitten, or puppy, like Mint sitting on a table, or more often, on the floor.

“Oh, come here, precious. My moon and stars, you’re a cute little thing.” said Cass. Scratching Mint behind the ear. Setting the little dog’s tail a-wag.

“What breed did you say she is again?” said Cass. Still scratching the dog’s ears. Doing such a good job of it that the little dog’s leg was dancing.

“I’m not really sure. She’s probably a great many things…” I said. My brow furrowing because my examination of the dog’s physiology and genetic structure had left me a little bit puzzled.

The dog was actually too many things, making it questionable whether I could really even call her a dog anymore.

“Well, looking at her little legs, and all this fur, there’s definitely some corgi and cockapoo in there.”

“Yeah...That sounds about right.” I said. Nodding.

After playing with Mint for a bit, Casandra got up and got back to work. Though this cafe didn’t see too much business, it still saw some, and there weren’t enough employees for Cassandra to just put her feet up.

What’s that old saying? The waves may knock down the mountains but it’s the rain and tide that move the coasts?

If you haven’t guessed already, but Cass and I were friends now. Not close friends but friendly enough to be on a first name basis at least.

It was all down to persistence. Not that creepy, stalkerish, obnoxious persistence you see in movies where a guy or girl ‘pursues’ their target till they fall for them instead of say...getting extremely pissed/frightened and getting the law involved.

No, I’m talking about the simple practice of maintaining and building a relationship over time. Love, and friendship, weren’t magical one and done affairs. It took time to build things up, and then you had to keep building, to keep all your hard work from fading away.

Margot and I had been living in this building for a little under two months. That was two months of me trying to make a good impression on Ms. Neuville because she’d made a good impression with me.

In the last couple of days, I’d made great headway on this endeavour. I suspect it might be because my prior state of mental disturbance had left me much less composed, and therefore much more readable.

Even if she couldn’t read my mind or my fate, reading body language and aura was still on the table. I may or may not have started crying over a plate of brisket.

Now that wasn’t exactly how I’d wanted to breach the woman’s iron wall, but I’d take any victories I could get.

Add to this, the weeks before, where I tried my best to make sure I seemed as harmless and friendly as possible. Multiply that by Mint’s world-shaking cuteness, and Cassandra’s status as an animal lover. Now here we were, with the woman having mostly gotten over her former wariness of me, and the two of us on good terms.

Thus I increased the small number of friends I’d made since I was called to this world.

I killed some time playing with little Mint. A few days ago, I’d even gone over to the Players’ League Headquarters to officially register her as my familiar rather than just registering her with the city as a pet.

Considering her supernatural qualities and a few other things I’d found concerning about the dog, it had seemed the prudent thing to do.

Thus Mint became Mint Romilda Kalyan.

“Who’s a good girl? You're a good girl. That’s right. You’re daddy’s favorite girl.” I cooed. Shamelessly indulging in a part of my personality that only ever came out around children and small animals.

I held the dog in my lap. Watching as she wriggled about beneath my fingers. Then the food came, so I summoned her food bowl from my inventory. I poured the stew into the bowl using my thermokinesis to reduce the temperature of the savory, meat and vegetable filled stew, as I poured it into the bowl.

Then I placed the bowl on the table and let the dog grow to a size where she could eat at the table. I knew that setting good discipline for pets meant making her eat at the floor but I didn’t really care about that. My Mint was smart enough to know what she should and shouldn’t do during different circumstances. She was one of those rare canines who understood the principles of time, place, and occasion, thus I could afford to be lax on a few things.

While Mint and I ate, Cass returned. She sat down across from me. Pushing Mint and her bowl further into the booth.

This was a little beyond the norm, because though Cass would often stop by and chat with many of her patrons she hardly ever sat down. She was generally too busy to actually sit with me.

“Hey, Monty.” said Cass.

“Yes?” I said. Looking up from my shepherd's pie.

“You’re one those er…’players’, right?” said Cass.

“Yes.” I said.

“What level are you?” said Cass.

“Level 20.” I said.

I hadn’t misspoken. When Margot left, she and I were on the 5th level. Shortly after I’d managed to pull myself together after dealing with a minor immortality-based breakdown, I’d decided that it was best that I keep myself busy.

I chose to do jobs for the league because grinding a few levels would bring the reward of getting better more interesting jobs when Margot returned.

I ended up making a routine of doing a handful of small league jobs per day.

Since Margot was my contractor, her level got boosted too. This was the norm for most organizations, otherwise mages and power-users who relied on summons and the like would never be able to properly be credited.

The activities of a familiar whether for better or ill, would always be tied to their contractor, unless either the familiar or the contractor took special steps to make it clear that their actions weren’t connected.

As to why I didn’t bother recounting any of those missions in this journal,...why would I? This journal is a recording of things I did, or experienced that I found meaningful to me. My doing those jobs was just exercise. Lucrative exercise, yes, but still my version of doing a set of light squat thrusts, some chin-ups, and a three mile jog.

Some things just aren’t worth recounting. I am a borderline omniscient (when I’m paying attention), borderline omnipotent (when I remember to actually use my powers), extradimensional entity that has existed for untold eons.

With the dark-eye network at my disposal I could be anywhere on the planet at a given moment. Even without dipping into my limited actions, I had more than enough options for completing any given task.

Consequently, whether it was delivery jobs, extermination tasks, or item acquisition jobs, so long as I didn’t purposefully choose jobs that would make things harder or trickier, leveling up as a player was almost stupidly easy for me.

The only reason I’d slowed down was because I didn’t want to put Margot in an awkward spot by jumping too high too fast. Leveling up fifteen levels in roughly as many days was beyond the norm but not so much so that anyone would find it worth investigating.

All that an average observer might note was that either Margot, or I held magic or powers that allowed us to do things at a higher standard than others. Which was fine. Such an impression was created by the mere fact of reaching a level beyond the fifteenth level. Regardless of how fast one leveled up.

“So, I have a favor to ask. I can pay you for the trouble, sug. No need to worry about that. I just didn’t want to just leave it to some stranger if I had a better option.” said Cass.

I nodded and sat upright. I was all ears, my head was practically cut in half by my eager smile. This looked like the oppurtunity I’d been waiting for. A chance to look trustworthy and reliable.

“I’m listening.”