Estella made it very clear that she misunderstood the nature of the anomaly. She was convinced that Aren was the one who killed the One-Eyed King, and therefore, any friend of Aren’s was a friend of the grand city of Leone. And she was only half-right. Yes, he killed the One-Eyed King — or rather, Damien did — but that is not the reason why Estella was received in the city and treated as if her reputation with it was at the level of Beloved.

Aren didn’t say anything to correct her or to dispel her illusion. Even if he wanted to, he simply did not have the chance to do so.

Estella took the lead, confidently and with a goal in mind, and the first place she decided to visit was Aurora’s Garden — a place within the city where only honored citizens may venture into. And Aren’s group, of course. Her eyes were wide with wonder and disbelief at the sight of the large park, and the small lake in the center which was called the Tear of Ilya, and without second thought, Estella offered a gold medallion to the Tear, and quietly prayed for almost half an hour.

Aren had sensed that this was something deeply personal and important to Estella, and didn’t linger around, instead taking a stroll through Aurora’s Garden, and killing time by observing the various birds of paradise flying about. Aren had seen many gardens like this in the real world — the Arcologies were packed with them — so it didn’t really come as a surprise or awe-inspiring experience when he saw Aurora’s Garden.

Estella’s reaction to it though made Aren wonder if she was a non-citizen in the real world, relegated to living in the old world. That probably wasn’t the case, but the possibility existed.

After half an hour of waiting, Aren received a notification.

[Group] Estella: Thank you, Aren. You have made me very happy. I will never forget this. I will see you soon.

Aren realized that Estella logged out, because her name became grey in the group member list.

Aren smacked his lips and frowned. That wasn’t according to plan. He waited by the entrance of the Garden, ready to ambush the blonde with offers to invite her to the clan in the future, and to make her a permanent member of his group — strike while the iron is hot, so to speak — but things turned out quite different.

The certainty he had about Estella agreeing to become their friend and ally began to diminish.

However, Aren was getting quite good at dealing with the fact that things don’t go the way he’d want them to go; in this world and the real world.

He quickly put the entire thing out of the forefront of his mind, and headed back towards the city. The bazaar specifically. Even though his coin purse was light — a dozen or so gold coins, enough for food and lodging — he still headed towards the central market for the sole purpose of doing research. The rewards for killing the One-Eyed King were still waiting for him at the Adventurer’s Guild, so funds would not be an issue for reasonable items, like armor repairs, new throwing knives, and such. As for the loot they obtained, it was most likely with Fang and his enchanted satchel.

He made a mental note to visit the Army Citadel and the Adventurer’s Guild, alongside many other items on his agenda for the day — like visiting the Spellblade trainer Elzo Lunare — and moved into the bazaar.

It was packed with people. Both denizens and adventurers strolled through the streets littered with market stalls that had a large number of items of all sorts on display. Some stalls even used arcane signs with colorful symbols to draw the attention and engage potential customers.

The items on display were mostly of low Earth realm, with some approaching the mid-tier Sky realm, but stupendously expensive. A mithril chainmail vest of the Sky Realm cost four thousand platinum coins. For comparison, that was twenty thousand gold coins, or one hundred thousand silver coins. Aren’s daily expenses — just lodging and three meals — would cost him around sixty silver per day, or almost two thousand per month. For the cost of that chainmail vest, Aren could comfortably live for almost two years. Needless to say, Aren had not seen that amount of money in his entire lifetime.

And this was also the crux of Singularity’s business model and popularity. A person could deposit their money in the Central Bank of Singularity, and withdraw it in the real world at a rate of one Commonwealth Merit — the standard real world currency — per gold coin, not counting conversion and transaction fees. Similarly, Aren’s real world daily expenses would follow a similar trend as his virtual ones do, at sixty merits per day for lodging, and three meals.

Of course, Singularity wasn’t so simple. Armor repairs, weapon repairs, tailoring, these would all drive up his monthly expenses to around six to seven thousand silver at this rate. Education, learning, gear purchases, would again triple or quadruple his yearly expenses — yearly, because they were simply that expensive, and would be taken out of a yearly budget.

Aren estimated that the entire group’s yearly expenses was about the same as the cost of that single chainmail vest. It was no wonder why clans fell apart so easily, if one of their members was not adequate to justify the cost. And the expenses would only increase as the quality of gear did. And not just the quality of the gear, but the expenses for teaching would also increase as the level of the student improved.

Alliances and Guilds offered tremendous discounts to their members, making them popular choices, but it was still extremely expensive. Even with a salary, it was difficult to make it out of the red while making the Guild and Alliance absurd amounts of money.

Singularity itself worked on a similar principle. The Commonwealth would hand out stipends to citizens, which they then had the option of investing into Singularity at the same rate as withdrawing the money would.

Business was booming, thanks to chainmail vests like the one Aren had his eye on.

“Hi, Aren!” He heard an excited, female voice call out to him, and within a moment, his right arm was cushioned in the valley of two heavenly pillows that made his pulse race. The voice belonged to Jennifer, his childhood friend — the only one he had until recently. At least, he assumed he was friends with Nissa, Fang, Damien and Cassandra. Maybe even Estella, now.

“Yen,” Aren said, smiling as he turned to look at the girl that was about his height. She was a brunette, with hazel eyes and a curvaceous figure. She didn’t always look like that; so seductive and pleasing to the eye. She used to have blonde hair, darker eyes, and was a bit shorter. But she changed herself, and her appearance, for Aren.

The girl wore a dress of airy, cerulean and white silk, with artificial azure flowers in her hair as ornaments. She threw her arms around Aren’s neck, decidedly pressed her voluptuous curves against Aren’s chest, and kissed him on the cheek, the corner of her lips lightly touching Aren’s. She made an “oops” expression as she took a half-step back, grinning.

There was a time when Aren thought he would marry Jennifer. They would have kids, and a bright future happily ever after. In fact, it was such a certain thing that their parents had already made plans for what this would mean financially and socially, setting up shared funds and household accounts for whenever the inevitable event happened.

Jennifer surely thought that this would still be the case. She changed her appearance for Aren, even surgically. She learned how to speak and walk properly — with a sultry and seductive tone. The idea that a woman — or a man, for that matter — should make a perfect spouse and partner, in appearance, ideology or profession, had been extinct since the late twenty-first century. No one cared about such things anymore. Jennifer, and her changes, were entirely borne out of love for Aren, and the dream she had for their future. A perfect pair, at a time when such things like love and marriage out of love were also extinct ideas. Marriage, procreation, and such things were mostly out of convenience or decided by government lottery, also known as match-making — one didn’t know who they would get, but they would be a perfect match; in theory, at least. The LAGI of the various Sectors did make perfect matches, and sometimes, that was the problem. There was little excitement in such arrangements — only a dull, stable life.

But Aren had stopped feeling the same way about Jennifer quite a long time ago. Somehow, over time, he stopped being madly in love with his neighbor and friend, and has come to see her in a much different light. He wasn’t sure what that light exactly was, and perhaps it was the fact that they were so perfect for each other that stifled his romantic feelings for Jennifer, but he felt that he… actually, he wasn’t even sure what he felt or wanted.

And this was a problem and a source of extreme guilt. Not only because he could not reciprocate Jennifer’s feelings, and he did tell her about his doubts — which didn’t dissuade Jennifer at all — but because Aren owed Jennifer his life.

Jennifer’s parents were Class F citizens, and also on the board of Directors for AI Development and Research. They were extremely rich and had tremendous influence in the Commonwealth. If it wasn’t for that influence — and likely money — Aren would have never received the surgery and cybernetic implant that saved his life.

More than anything, Jennifer was a patient person. If Aren lost the spark of passion, she would rekindle it. There was simply no doubt in her mind that Aren’s future and hers were tied together, by the red string of fate.

And to put it bluntly, kindling passions she did very well. Just those few touches and proximity made Aren’s cheek swell with heat and embarrassment. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest. She was well aware of that fact, and giggled, easily taking Aren’s hand and walking with him through the bazaar.

“I heard you were with Nissa and Fang,” she said. “Are they treating you well?”

“Yeah,” Aren replied. He couldn’t muster more of an answer even if he had more to say. He felt like a fish on dry land — so far outside of his element, he may as well be the first fish in intergalactic space.

“I am glad,” she said. “They didn’t want to join our clan, and I was disappointed at first — everyone in the class joined — but if they are helping you out, then I can’t complain. Speaking of clans,” she said and looked at him. “Want to join?”

Aren smiled apologetically, thankful that some part of his brain was still functional. “You guys are like two months ahead of me. I’d just slow you down. Plus, we might already have something planned.”

Yen nodded, smiling. She didn’t seem offended or disappointed. Sure, in this world, Aren was Aren’s own person, but in the real world, Arnel belonged to her.

“What brings you to the bazaar? Looking for gear?” she asked. “I could help you out. You know, make up those two months you lost.”

“I was looking for a shadowblade,” Aren admitted openly. To be specific, he wasn’t looking to buy one. He was looking for someone that could make one.

“Ah, Spellblade, huh?” Yen asked. “It suits you. I might not look like it, but I am a Templar.”

It was hard to imagine Yen in heavy armor, wielding a two-handed sword.

“I doubt you’ll find any shadowblades in the Bazaar here,” Yen explained. “They are quite expensive and useless to anyone who doesn’t require one. At least with mages, you know that there are so many of them that foci will sell, unlike shadowblades.”

Aren nodded. “That is what I was afraid of.”

“If you come to Pallas, or Bizanth, you’ll find some very high quality ones,” Yen said. “We are also based out of Pallas, the clan I mean.”

Aren chuckled, trying to keep his mind off the fact that his fingers interlaced with Yen’s. It was almost as if they were on a date — him in damaged and scuffed leather armor, and her in a wonderful dress. Like the beauty and the beast. They even began attracting quite some attention. Citizens even greeted Yen with quite a bit of awe and respect, even though she wasn’t part of Aren’s group.

“No rush,” she said after the silence stretched out. “I know you like to do things on your own, but for now, if you’ll forgive my selfishness, I would really like to spend some time with you. I have missed you.”

Aren nodded and smiled. Spending some time with Yen was the very least he could do, after everything she did for him. Perhaps, Aren could not find it in himself to rekindle the romance he felt towards her — that was still a matter under question — but he did love Jennifer as a human being and the best friend a person could ever ask for. She was understanding, kind and — even though she could be pushy at times — she was open-minded and didn’t impose unreasonable expectations on people.

In fact, after everything that had happened — faced with the crumbling ruins of his own life — Jennifer’s presence was exactly the thing he needed. She was someone that he knew would accept him no matter what; even if he had an AGMI; even if he was a Calamity hunted by all; even if he were to become a worthless, good for nothing, with not a merit to his name. She would embrace him nonetheless.