Chương 104: The Fruits Of Hard Work

Eventually, Dimitri's endless river of stories drifted toward the subject of how he had first arrived in Eteria. That immediately caught my attention. Mostly because the more I learned about everyone here, the more it felt like the universe had assembled our party by grabbing random people from completely different shelves and throwing them into the same shopping cart. I shifted in my chair and rested my chin against my palm, watching him across the table. The Player Center remained noisy around us.

People walked past carrying equipment. Players argued over prices. Groups discussed quests. Somewhere nearby, someone dropped something metallic and caused enough noise to make half the room look around. Meanwhile, our group remained locked inside Dimitri's personal storytelling broadcast. Honestly, the man had somehow hijacked everyone's attention for hours without charging admission. It was impressive. A little concerning. But impressive. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Hold on a second. You're telling me you never played MMORPGs back on Earth, right?" Dimitri gave a casual nod.

"That is correct, my friend." I pointed at him accusingly.

"Then explain this mystery to me. Why do you understand game mechanics better than half the people who spent their entire lives glued to a monitor? You walk around acting like you've been reading strategy guides since birth." The giant Russian scratched his chin thoughtfully. For a moment, he looked like he was genuinely considering the question. Then he shrugged. A simple shrug. The kind of shrug that somehow carried the confidence of a man who could probably arm-wrestle a tree and win.

"I simply understand," he said.

"This world has its own methods of teaching. I listened." I stared at him. That answer somehow explained everything while simultaneously explaining absolutely nothing. Amazing. It was like asking a math genius how they solved an impossible equation and receiving the response:"Numbers told me." Very helpful. Thank you. My confusion has now evolved into a higher form of confusion. Across from him, Fiona immediately nodded with enthusiastic agreement.

"Aye, tha's pretty much wha' happened tae me as well." Her thick Scottish accent bulldozed through the sentence like a wagon rolling down a rocky hill. She looked completely cheerful about it. Like learning game mechanics through mystical universal osmosis was a perfectly normal life experience. Apparently I was the weird one for expecting tutorials. Good to know. I rubbed my forehead. The universe continued finding new and exciting ways to make me feel like I had missed several mandatory orientation meetings.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. My gaze drifted toward June. Unlike Dimitri and Fiona, she sat with her usual composed posture. Elegant. Refined. Looking entirely too expensive for the furniture she was sitting on. Even while doing absolutely nothing, she somehow carried herself like she was attending a royal ceremony. I pointed toward her.

"Alright, your turn." June lifted an eyebrow. I continued.

"Aiko's easy. That girl's basically a walking gamer supps endorsement. If a random Japanese RPG released anywhere on Earth, she probably knew about it before the developers did." Aiko immediately shrank into her seat.

"W-Wha..." I looked at June.

"So what about you? Were you actually into games before all this happened, or did Eteria just dump knowledge directly into your brain like it did with these two?" June considered the question for a moment. Her expression remained calm. Measured. Like she was carefully deciding whether the answer deserved three words or four.

"I played occasionally," she replied.

"When circumstances allowed it." A brief pause followed. Then she added.

"And when I felt inclined to." There it was. The most June answer imaginable. Not yes. Not no. Not even a normal explanation. Just a response delivered with the energy of a queen informing her subjects that she sometimes acknowledges the existence of common entertainment. I slowly nodded.

"Got it." Honestly, that tracked perfectly. For some reason, imagining June hunched over a keyboard screaming at teammates felt about as believable as Dimitri losing a fistfight against a squirrel. Possible, technically. But my brain refused to render the image. Before we knew it, Dimitri's legendary storytelling marathon had finally begun approaching its closing credits. The Player Center had transformed around us without anyone noticing. The constant stream of Players rushing in and out had slowed considerably.

The overwhelming noise from earlier had softened into a quieter murmur. The sharp clatter of boots against polished floors had become less frequent. Even the glowing terminals scattered throughout the massive atrium seemed less crowded than before. At some point during Dimitri's tales involving questionable life choices, suspiciously aggressive wildlife, and enough bizarre coincidences to make statisticians cry themselves to sleep, the entire day had simply packed its bags and left. Funny how that worked.

Five minutes of waiting alone felt like a prison sentence personally designed by bored office workers. Meanwhile, spending time with the right people turned entire afternoons into missing persons cases. One moment, you're listening to a giant Russian explain why befriending strangers during train rides occasionally results in accidental property damage. The next, the sun is halfway to retirement. Dimitri glanced toward the towering windows overlooking the city outside.

Golden-orange light stretched across the floor in long ribbons, painting the Player Center in warm evening colors. The giant man folded his massive arms across his chest.

"Perhaps," he said thoughtfully, his deep Russian accent carrying its usual warmth, "the hour has come for us to inspect our glorious commercial achievements. Who knows? Maybe Lady Fortune herself has smiled kindly upon our humble efforts while we sat here exchanging stories." His eyes brightened.

"Would it not be magnificent if our mountain of monster remains transformed into a mountain of gold?" I immediately sat up straighter. The words mountain of gold activated the same part of my brain responsible for getting excited over online banking notifications. Suddenly, I wasn't tired anymore. I blinked toward the windows.

"... You know what? That's actually a fantastic idea." I pointed toward the fading sunlight outside.

"We've basically set up permanent residence in this place." I gestured dramatically around the atrium.

"I've watched people come and go. I've listened to enough stories to qualify for an honorary Russian citizenship." I paused.

"Seriously, I think the sun's clocked out for the day." The evening sky beyond the glass had shifted into a beautiful blend of amber and crimson. Long shadows stretched through the Player Center. The bustling energy from the morning rush had mellowed into something calmer. Players returning from Gates moved with slower steps. Some looked exhausted. Others celebrated successful hunts. A handful stared blankly at terminals with the thousand-yard gaze of people who had just checked repair costs.

Honestly, adventurer life looked suspiciously similar to adulthood. Fight monsters. Pay bills. Pretend everything was fine. Repeat tomorrow. I pushed myself out of the chair. The furniture released me reluctantly, as if disappointed its favorite professional lounger had chosen productivity.

"Come on," I said.

"Let's go see whether the economy has finally decided to stop treating me like its least favorite child." I cracked my knuckles.

"Because if those listings actually sold, tonight's mood is about to improve dramatically." I narrowed my eyes.

"Unless the answer is zero." I pointed accusingly at the invisible concept of capitalism.

"In which case, I'm filing a formal complaint with whoever invented supply and demand." The group rose from their seats. Together, we made our way back across the Player Center. The polished floors reflected the soft blue glow cast by the countless terminals. Conversations drifted around us. Fragments of negotiations. Quest discussions. Celebrations. Complaints. Every Player chasing their own version of survival. Our footsteps carried us toward the familiar consignment board.

The same marketplace terminal that had earlier swallowed my monster loot whole like a magical pawn shop with commitment issues. I slowed as we entered its interaction range. A faint hum echoed from the enchanted board. Blue light shimmered across its surface. Then the interface awakened before us. Translucent panels unfolded into existence one after another. Cold. Efficient. Professional.

The floating display shifted smoothly, presenting the current status of every item I had placed for sale through the Player Marketplace. ••••• 1: Tier 1 (Common): Pulsing Ichor-Bloom x12 • Selling Price: 6 gold coins each. • Sold: 12 2: Tier 1 (Common): Fungal Carapace Fragment x12 • Selling Price: 4 gold coins each. • Sold: 12 3: Tier 1 (Elite): Corrupted Heart Stone Fragment x1 • Starting Price: 437 gold coins each. • Sold: 1 •••••