The rm woke Eli up.


    The blurry numbers glowing in the dark indicated it was 2:30 a.m.


    He pped a hand sleepily on the wall, turning off the rm.


    Yawned as he sat up, sliding his feet off the side of the bed that was now as narrow as the sofa in the living room. Whatever. It wasn''t like he''d ever been prone to sprawling when he slept.


    "Power on." The bio-cradle and headgear systems lit up as they initialized boot sequence.


    He peered at the lone blinking light separate from the rest. Groped for his sses and put them on.


    Oh. His phone recorder was still on.


    He shook his head and turned it off, deleting a long part of the tail end that was just rhythmic sound, and archiving the audio of him talking. There were two audio files already there.


    The events were years back, nearly a decade, and yet it was surprising how much they still angered him.


    Undeniably, he needed a psychologist.


    Also undeniable, he''d immediately be tossed into a support system for ''people of alternate mentality'' if he voiced a single word about being transmigrated to Zushkenar and then back.


    It was a good thing there had been nearly a century of studies on how people would prefer to talk about their problems to ''fake'' anthromorphs like teddy bears and 3D modeled characters than real humans.


    That meant there were various iterations of ''virtual'' psychologists avable for download. The best reviews were given to the ''Rant at Me'' app, that cost 2 ecru.


    It was built by RSI, actually.


    The download size was fairlyrge, and it used a lot of memory but it was a stand-alone app and didn''t send his data to ''real'' people to be analyzed before a response was sent.


    Its creator being RSI, it was probably some level of AI.


    In any case, Eli didn''t use his phone for much.


    So he spent some time out of the day talking about Zushkenar to the randomly swaying and rustling 3D tree that he chose as his psychologist''s avatar. The voice he gave the tree was calm and airy, sexless and almost indifferent.


    It was also a form of recording his experiences, before he forgot.


    He was nning on going through the recordings looking for memories that might be helpful that he only remembered when going through a chronological y-by-y of his life in Zushkenar.


    He ced his phone on the headboard shelf and stumbled sleepily to the bathroom.


    Less than thirty minutester, he was a bit more chipper, having finished breakfast. His aunt had sent him offst night with a pile of left-overs.


    Eli peeled the disinfectant strip from his arm, tossed it into the trash, and wiped off the intravenous band to rece it. He re-connected the band to the ZombieFluid line, took off his sses and lowered the headgear.


    *


    Several notifications of packages having arrived to his post-vault greeted Krow''s entry into Rends.


    The vault had finally activated.


    He changed his Travelcoat for the [Darkfall Hooded Cape], pulling up the hood, checked out of the visiting-house and made his way to Orddet''s.


    The vault levels were on a different tower from Orddet''s main floor and galleries, but he still had to go through the lobby to ess the viaducts to the tower.


    All his armor and essories but for the greaves and the gorget ne had been stashed in his vault already. The rest were due in the afternoon. There were also five hundred-item crates of Starfall items, with seven more due to arrive in the afternoon.


    He expected about a hundred crates of Starfall items, and maybe twenty or so crates of ethermica, but prices may rise while the buy-orders were open.


    It was a possibility for the ethermica, but Starfall weapons were unranked. They sold to smithy shops as vendor trash for 3 drax.


    Krow was offering 7 drax per item with a 2 drax leeway with Orddet''s buyers.


    Seven drax was about the cost of any weapon graded D Umon. Umon weapons were still rtively affordable, with A-quality selling in the low hundreds. It would be even lower in the future.


    It was the Rare weapons and armors that were priced high, with a simple grade-F Rare already selling between one and two thousand drax.


    Of the three Spells he bought, only the rank-two [Double Jump] had arrived.


    It was the most basic movement spell in Rends.


    It wasn''t popr at all.


    For one, its efficacy was based mainly on STR and DEX, instead of just MND and DEX like other Movement Spells.


    It was simple, but even a in movement spell was better than none.


    In truth, buying any of the fancy rank-three movement spells on the market felt wasteful when Krow already had Stormglide.


    He installed the Scroll into a Spell Slot.


    [You''ve learned a Movement Spell!]


    Added to [Greater Focus], he now had 2 of his 6 Spell-slots filled.


    He stored his armor into an Equipment Set.


    For battle and traveling only.


    Even with light armor,pared with the average Lvl 5 who were still using whatever Common and Umon items they could scrounge up, he was overgeared.


    He could probably defeat any single opponent under Lvl 10 at this point, but why invite challengers by openly wearing armor?


    He equipped the [Dusk Illusion Mask Earclips] on his avatar. Seeing the sculpted featurelessness of his lower face, he rxed a bit.


    Even though he couldn''t feel it, his features looked like they were covered in solid shadowy material.


    That took care of the single major problem his old mask had – he couldn''t eat and drink through it.


    Satisfied, he left.


    It was midmorning in Rends.


    Striding the walkways in hooded cape and mask, no one osted or mugged him


    Krow cheerily made his way to the Realty, after asking a couple of people at Orddet''s for directions.


    He caught his reflection in a crystal window as he jumped a railing. Ah…


    …no one mugged him because he looked like the one prone to mugging people?


    Dark cape, dark mask. When not looking like an assassin he looked like the average viin underboss.


    Mask prejudice!


    He wasn''t listening to people who denigrated his mask.


    He couldn''t do anything about the viinous cloak though.


    Tsk.


    Every viin in ssic cinema had capes and cloaks. What was with that? No wonder the entertainment industry was said to be failing.


    He neared the Realty. The symbol of towers and a white crown was unmistakable.


    It looked…closed?


    The shutters were drawn, the doors were shut, and no-one answered his knock.


    He tried the door handle. It was locked.


    Hm. He knew draculkar shops openedter than most; they weren''t morning people. But it was past nine already.


    What was the exnation for this? There wasn''t even a single ''closed for renovation'' sign.


    He turned to check the shop next door.


    Shopkeepers gossiped as much as drunk tavern-goers. Information was business.


    His eye was caught by the draculkar looking at him in something like panic. He was the age of Krow''s avatar, probably.


    Krow smiled, his gentlest. "Good morning, do you know when the Realty is opening?"


    Eh?


    The young draculkar''s panic spiked and he sputtered, starting and stopping sentences.


    "Breathe," Krow ordered. He wasn''t that scary, surely?


    The young draculkar sucked in a breath.


    "Do you know anyone who works there?" If it didn''t open today, he''d be stuck here until tomorrow.


    "No!" the draculkar burst out. "Definitely not. Absolutely. No one I know works there, and not today probably. Not! Not because anything happened. Nothing happened at all. The key''s definitely where it is, yes, not lost at all! And we''re…it''s not opening this morning, probably. It will in the afternoon, and I''ll be fired."


    Krow tried to parse out the rush of babbled words.


    The other suddenly waved his arms wildly, even more flustered. "From! From…from somewhere else. Yes, they might fire me, b-because I talked to you too long. Uh, fair morn to you, I''m going."


    Krow reached out to nab the draculkar''s shoulder.


    "You," he rified, "lost the key to the Realty?"


    Quest alert.


    "It''s supposed to be my brother this morning but he''s sick and I only have to open until Chanaries at noon! Who buys property before noon?!" the draculkar''s words were almost squeaked.


    Krow arched his brows.


    The other caved and his shoulders slumped. He looked around nervously. Lucky for him, there were few people in the shopping levels. "I''m just the assistant. Temporary."


    He mentally revised the other draculkar''s age to younger than mid-twenties. "What''s your name?"


    "S-sucar."


    "Where do you think you lost it?"


    "I don''t know? I had it when I left home but then when I was here, it wasn''t anywhere! It must''ve dropped on the way but I don''t know, because there are more pickpockets now said the Guard bulletins, but I don''t think I met any pickpockets so it must have fallen-"


    "Breathe."


    For the sake of this Realty branch, Krow hoped this quest wasn''t one of the repeatable ones. Will it survive losing its key so many times, even if backed by the crown?


    Sucar inhaled. "I went over the way home three times now, and nothing!"


    "Maybe new eyes will help."


    The other''s eyes widened. "Y-you''ll help?"


    "Sure, why not? I do want to get business done by today."


    "Right! Um, if we can open the Realty before noon, I''ll help you with your business." Sucar gave a determined nod.


    "As just the assistant?"


    "So?" The single syble was unexpectedly unwavering, especially after the anxious babbling.


    Krow huffed augh. "Alright. I''ll hold you to it."


    "You will?"


    Shkav.


    Krow mentally wrote off the rest of the day.