With the short break over and the party’s stomachs full of crab, they continue onward. Fenrir carries the crab-claw-turned-bag with him. He’s still upset that he broke his spear so quickly, but he knew that it likely wouldn’t last long. It was just a random stick with a sharp stone tied to it, after all. He’s sure that he can make another one if he really needs to. More importantly, he still has his rock. Nobody is going to take his rock.

He thinks of a name for the rock. What would be a good name for a pet rock? Charles? Hubert? Rocky McRockface? The Rock?

“Guys, I’m going to keep on thinking of really stupid things if nobody comes up with something to talk about,” Fenrir says to the group.

“Like what?” Oleander asks.

“I’m thinking of names for my rock.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty stupid, Fenny.”

“I told you.”

“How about Rocky McRockface?”

“Already thought of that.”

“The Rockster?”

“That’s a good one, but too flashy.”

“Rock Hard?”

“I know what you want to add on to the end of that.”

“Peter.”

“Nah.”

“Rockington!”

“I like that one, but I don’t know.”

“Why do you care about that rock so much anyways?”

“It’s a good rock.”

“You’re dumb, Fenny.”

“You’re the one that puts up with me. You could just be like Bone there and silently judge me.”

Bonekraka grunts.

“That’s not as fun!” Oleander says. “Hey, do you have a good name for a pet rock?” he asks Serra.

She taps a finger against her chin. A pet rock name? She’s never tried thinking of anything like that before. “Rocky Stoneboa?” she proposes.

“What’s that a reference to?” Oleander asks. Serra looks away in embarrassment.

“I’m with Olly here. I think I might just name it Rock,” Fenrir says.

“Then what was the point in trying to help you?!” Oleander shouts and pouts, kicking sand at Fenrir.

“I never asked for help,” Fenrir replies, thus earning himself another kick of sand directed at him.

Fenrir, Oleander, and Serra all break the play to crack up. Fenrir and Oleander are particularly happy that they’ve found somebody new to play along in their skits. Bonekraka groans.

“What other games do you play?” Oleander asks, looking back at Serra whom is still staying near Fenrir.

“I guess… I play a lot of classics. Mainly horror. I really – I really like a lot of the old school horror games,” Serra answers. “I like the ones where you can’t really fight back and just… have to hide and sneak.”

Oleander shudders, holding his sides. “No way, I can’t handle games like that. Don’t even get me started on bugs! I saw this video online once of a naked guy and a bunch of—”

“Don’t, Olly. Nobody needs to know about what screwed up videos you watch in your free time,” Fenrir interjects.

“It’s not like I wanted to watch it! Some guy posted a link to it and everybody was commenting on it, so I got curious! I should have trusted the commenters…”

“We both know you just wanted to watch it because there was a naked guy in it.”

“That’s… only partially true! He didn’t look half bad, okay? A girl has her needs.”

“You’re not a girl.”

“I may have a penis, but it is a very feminine one!”

“Alright, this is going from funny to TMI. How’d we even get talking about this anyways?”

“I asked Serra what other games she plays, and she said horror, so that made me think of bugs.”

“I thought we were talking about your dick? How did bugs get to—”

“Oh, so you do want to talk about it? Sure thing, Fenny!”

Fenrir facepalms as Serra giggles beside him.

“Kill me,” Bonekraka grunts from the front of the group. “Need new friends.”

“We all know you’d be lonely without us, Boney,” Oleander teases.

A new back and forth is started between Oleander and Bonekraka.

The group comes across a few more couples of crabs, and each one is mercilessly slain by the adventuring party. Oleander and Bonekraka want the experience and skills from killing them. Fenrir just helps out so that neither of them dies and get their progress reset. Serra watches from the back and mentally cheers them on – well, mentally cheers Fenrir on.

Fenrir thinks of a new question for Saya as they continue walking along the beach. “Hey, Saya. What happens when we log out?” he asks Saya in his thoughts.

“It depends, Onii-chan! If you go to sleep, depending on how comfortable you are on what you’re sleeping on, you get a rested bonus. If you just randomly log out then you’ll be standing around doing nothing,” Saya explains.

“So our bodies don’t despawn?”

“Right!”

“What’s stopping somebody from killing somebody else’s character while they’re logged out?”

“Nothing! Well, the character can fight back using the fighting style that the overseer has learned from you so that it’s like you really are fighting, but that’s it. Liiikkeee, if you’re sleeping in a tavern and a bad guy sneaks into your room, he could try killing you without ever waking you up or just steal from you! But if he gets detected by your character, the overseer will temporarily control your character to realistically defend itself like you would if you were playing. Your character won’t be fighting at 100%, but like 80%. If you get disconnected or have to wake during the middle of a fight, the overseer will take over there, too.”

“Alright, so there is some protection instead of being completely vulnerable. That’s good to know, thanks. Sounds like the overseer is really busy. There’s like, what, over fifty million active players that it has to watch? And then all the NPCs, building the world, and all that?”

“Yup! She’s super busy all the time. She technically controls everything in the world from the bugs to the weather, but it’s super easy for us. Even I could do it if I had more processing power!”

“Thanks for answering my questions again, Saya.”

“No problem, Onii-chan!”

Fenrir relays what new information he’s learned to the rest of the group.

Lights! “Look! I think I see a town,” Fenrir calls out. The others really have to squint their eyes to see it.

“Woah, how did you even see that, Fenny?” Oleander asks.

“You have trouble seeing that? Maybe… maybe our assistants give us racial skills based off of what we choose to play as? That would explain some things.”

“Oh well. Let’s go!” Oleander rushes off first.

The four speed up their pace to run toward the lights. Bright lanterns and a burning fire can be seen as they get closer as well as several wooden buildings. A few rowboats are pulled up onto the beach and tied to wooden posts. The most unique part of the village is the large, wooden cages holding some of those giant crabs in them.

What looks to be a guard spots the incoming group and knocks on the wall of the house behind him. Two more armed guards come out. Each of the guards is wearing leather armor and wielding metal weapons. They may not look that much better equipped by fantasy game standards, but not even Bonekraka wants to pick a fight with somebody properly armed when all he has is his fists.

“Wait there!” the first guard shouts. The group listens. “You guys new?”

“Only been here for a few hours!” Fenrir shouts back. “Mind if we come over and rest?”

The guards look at one another. “Any weapons? What’s in the shell?” the guard shouts again, looking at the claw Fenrir is holding.

“Just some basic stuff we’ve gathered. No weapons.”

The guards whisper amongst themselves before returning their attention to the strangers. “Alright, you can come over,” the guard says, beckoning the party over. With excited smiles, the party of four head over but are stopped once more when they get close enough. “You all just start playing together?”

“Yeah! We’re all friends in real life, so we spawned over here together,” Oleander explains. Serra looks like she wants to correct him, but he nudges his elbow against her arm.

“I see. Well, welcome to our village, Coastedge. Yeah, I know, it’s a bad name, but that’s the guild leader’s problem. I’m Richard, an officer of Stinky Garlic. I know, another dumb name, but not my problem again,” Richard, the guard who has been shouting, explains. “What do you guys need?”

Oleander and Serra both look like they’re ready to laugh at the guild’s name.

“Just information, maybe a safe spot to log out for the night,” Fenrir answers.

“We’ve got a building that no NPCs have moved into yet, so you can stay there given that you can pay us somehow.”

“Sorry, but we don’t have anything to pay you with. All we have is this claw, our clothes, and some stems with like glue inside of them.”

Richard looks Serra over. She immediately notices the perverse look he’s giving her.

And so does Fenrir.

Fenrir steps in front of Serra to hide her behind him. “Like I said, we don’t have anything to pay you with. We’ll just take any information you can give us and be on our way.”

“Tch. Boring. You realize that the majority of people playing this game are just a bunch of perverts wanting to fuck, right? I suggest not letting your girlfriend near any towns if you’re a couple of prudes. Ain’t no place where a girl isn’t going to be getting hit on constantly, and some of the rougher players won’t have a problem putting you in your place to get to her,” the guard says, entering a staring match with Fenrir.

It’s only broken up when Oleander steps forward to trace a couple of his fingers against the guard’s chest. “It’s okay, I can satisfy you however, you, want. Would you like to have some fun with me instead, Daddy?” Oleander coos, putting on his seductive feminine voice.

The guard looks disgusted and shoves Oleander away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me again.”

Bonekraka steps forward now, placing himself between the guard and Oleander. While the guard may be better armed, he’s still more than a foot shorter than Bonekraka. Anybody would be intimidated just by the sheer presence that he has.

Serra looks worried from how suddenly this is escalating.

“You know what? You aren’t getting a place to stay, and you aren’t getting any information. Get the fuck out of here before we kill you. We don’t want any stuck-up cunts or faggots here,” Richard demands.

Fenrir is a kind, gentle man. He likes to treat people with respect, prefers fishing and crafting over fighting and raiding, is a complete and total virgin, and also likes to make characters that appeal more to girls rather than looking like a manly badass. He also comes off as the kind of man to be more of a white knight who is all talk and no bite.

So when he suddenly punches Richard in the face and steals his sword during the confusion, none of the guards are expecting it.

“I thought you wanted to avoid PKing this time, Fenny?” Oleander asks from behind Bonekraka whom is now attacking the next guard.

Serra has no idea what’s going on and just stands back to watch.

Fenrir wastes no time stabbing Richard’s sword right through his chest. “Yeah, well, sometimes cocky little kids need to be put in their place.” When the initial stab doesn’t kill Richard, Fenrir pulls the blade out to slash it against the man’s throat. Only a bloody cut is made, but Richard falls lifeless to the ground.

“Does this mean the Divine Brigade is coming back?” Oleander asks, voice full of excitement.

“Only for tonight,” Fenrir replies just before getting stabbed in the left arm by the third guard’s spear.

Bonekraka is grinning from ear to ear. Serra hasn’t seen the orc look anywhere near this excited the entire time that she’s known him.

Fenrir uses his new sword to lop off the guard’s arm and steal the spear from him. A bit of blood sprays from the guard’s arm, but when Fenrir looks at where it was cut, all he sees is black.

“Help! We’re under attack!” the guard shouts. Everybody else in the small village starts rushing over.

“Alright, time to run! Olly, think you can slow them down when we get into the field?” Fenrir asks, pulling away from the defeated guards. He tosses the sword to Bonekraka whom has already taken a sword from the guard he defeated, hands his spear to Oleander, and picks up his pack-claw.

“Of course! Who do you think you’re talking to, Admiral?” Oleander replies.

“Only for tonight, Olly, then I swear I’m going back to fishing.”

They retreat.

"How many fights were started now from somebody insulting me?" Oleander asks, looking at Fenrir with grateful eyes.

"I've lost count between me and Bone," Fenrir answers.

"Only I get to insult you," Bonekraka says, giving Olly a hard enough smack on the back to almost knock him over.

Serra looks behind them. Over a dozen armed men are chasing them, so why do her three companions sound so relaxed? It almost sounds as if they're used to this sort of thing. Wait, hasn't she heard of Divine Brigade from somewhere else before?