A whole day in Singularity was twelve hours in the real world. By the time the next day came, and the representatives of the various guilds arrived, the group had prepared for the arrival, took naps, and had lunch.

Some global events could change the time acceleration, however, but it was fairly rare outside of the weekends. On weekends, generally, the time acceleration would be at times four. One thing players always suspected was that there were areas where the time acceleration was different — and the existence of certain abilities that could change the local time acceleration have been confirmed — but neither one has been obtained by players in the history of Singularity. For example, the Divine, some Mega Elite creatures, and many special dungeons — like some areas of the Forbidden Abyss — all had different time accelerations.

The group had done the best they could to clean up the reception area, which was the old courtyard of the town hall. What rubble there was had been piled up on the sides, and the columns had been demossed — a new word invented by Fang. These demossing operations took most of the day.

Still, to call it a reception area was a bit of an overstatement. It was to a reception area what a nuclear bomb was to modern art — that is to say, if one squinted, they could kind of see it.

Still, the three representatives did not seem to mind the chaos and crumbling architecture. Of the three, Aren recognized only one — Eli. She did not come alone and was accompanied by both Tilly, the Adventurer’s Guild receptionist, and her assistant — the same one from before. Tilly’s arrival had a profound effect on Damien, who was very obviously interested in her. When Tilly decided to stay behind in the courtyard, Damien smiled. Unfortunately, Tilly kept staring at Fang.

The other two representatives came alone, but they dressed in lavish clothes. Even Eli put on a seductive outfit with a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination. It was obvious what she was attempting to do, especially with her coquettish mannerisms that were so suggestive that, perhaps, a year prior, would’ve gotten Aren booted from Singularity because of a dangerously high heart rate. But now, Aren looked at Eli openly and coldly and without hesitation. His heart was as cold as a stone and as unwavering as steel.

Fang’s strategy — time-essential diplomacy — didn’t seem to have a noticeable effect on the trio, except on the assistant who seemed to advance further into the crumbling meeting place as if forced to do so at gunpoint. On the other hand, their strategy, if it could be called that, was seduction and deep pockets.

Aren led them towards the largest tent, which until then had been used to only store loot and equipment, and gestured for the trio to sit. The seats? Rubble. The table? A flattened piece of rubble, thanks to Ame and his sword-cutting skills that could carve through stone like it was paper.

They were poor. In fact, the dirt here was richer than they were. Juxtaposed on this image of poverty, in the corners of the tents, were shining sets of armor, made of a blue-alloy metal that glimmered like gems. There were six of these sets, fully complete, and another two incomplete sets. Weapons were also collected, and these were not as uniform as the metal and black-and-red leather armors but came in various types and materials.

The merchant representative, upon spotting the pieces of equipment, stared at them for a while, likely appraising their worth and possible origin. Like a true trader, opportunism was a favorable quality to the guild.

“First, let me say again, it is a pleasure to meet you, Aren,” the Builder representative said as he took a seat.

The merchant nodded in agreement.

They were obviously stared at Aren's missing arm, and the slightly unnatural curve in his body where, underneath his clothes, was a large hole of glowing elemental decay.

“But I have to admit,” the builder continued, hesitating for a moment. Finally, he shrugged. “You are unknown to us.”

Aren nodded. Those words pleased him. Also the fact that they did not mention his many wounds and the lack of confidence those might inspire. Perhaps it is because they knew of what he had done even with those wounds.

For some reason, despite his goal being to become famous — among players — the idea that he was unknown to one of the most powerful Guilds in Singularity brought him a sense of security.

“But we are here to see if we can negotiate business with you despite that, at the strong urging of the Adventurer’s Guild,” the builder said and nodded to Eli. The way he spoke seemed to indicate that they did not agree to this easily.

Aren glanced at Eli, and she returned his glance with a warm smile, and then tangled a finger into her hair, curling a lock around the digit.

Her clothes, Aren realized then, were not meant for him. They were meant for the other two.

As Aren pondered her motives — it couldn’t have just been money, could it? — the builder spoke. “Have you reviewed the blueprint we have sent?”

“I have,” he said and glanced at his shadow. Camille was not there. She hadn’t returned to her usual hiding place and was now roaming somewhere in the city. Aren could tell that she wasn’t in his shadow, because his eye told him that the darkness of the shadow was exactly what it should be. If she were hiding there, it would be darker by such a tiny degree that a normal eye would find it troublesome to see the difference. “I have made some adjustments, as you suggested.”

The builder smiled. “If it makes sense and it is within our power to build, we will accept any changes you put forth,” he said and tapped a finger on the table. “Can I see it?”

“Of course,” Aren said, and then shared the blueprint.

As Aren’s smile blossomed, so did the builder’s smile fade. “This…” The builder murmured under his breath, tilting his head left and right as he stared at something only he could see — a projection of Paradigm.

This sudden change in demeanor attracted the attention of the other two.

Aren suddenly received a private message.

[Private] Camille: Tell them we will obtain the resources and the workforce.

This message confused Aren.

“We—“ he tried to relay Camille’s message, but the builder cut him off.

“Mister Aren,” the builder said, this time using a title. “With the technology we have, this can be built. It will take decades, however. With the staging you have implemented, it could become livable immediately — it is a thorough plan, quite impressive. However, the workforce, the resources, these things are far outside of our budget.”

Aren narrowed his eyes. The power of AGMI was terrifying.

He cleared his throat. “We will obtain the resources and the workforce, Mister…”

“Bertrand,” the builder said.

“Mister Bertrand. As I was saying, you can leave those two things to us.”

The builder nodded.

How would they obtain the resources and the workforce? He did not doubt Camille, he just couldn’t see how they would do it. They had nothing. Even if they sold the armor sets and weapons, it wouldn’t be enough to cover a workforce.

Camille’s plan was something like an Arcology. It was nowhere as tall. The idea of Camille’s blueprint was that the industry was in the center of the city, where travel times were the shortest. This sector would have the tallest buildings, giving the illusion, from a distance, of a tapering spire. As one moved further away from the center, the buildings would be shorter and have fewer floors, with the outermost sections dedicated to housing and agriculture, because the area was larger. However, building the innermost structures required stone enhanced through arcane means. Even if they could obtain the stone, enhancing it was far too expensive!

“The initial stage of the blueprint — housing, services, and light industry — requires ordinary materials, and as per our agreement, we are willing to cover the cost, logistics, and construction for free. The later stages will be up to you,” Bertrand said. “Is that acceptable?”

Aren nodded. “It is acceptable. This includes the fort, yes?”

Bertrand nodded. “Yes, it will be built to your specification.”

Camille’s specification.

Aren smiled. “Excellent.”

Bertrand smiled. “Of course, I will discuss this blueprint with my Guild. I think, as per our agreement — the building rights — it should be no issue to build according to the zones you have laid out. It is quite interesting that you have put such elaborate thought into it, and even considered how we might desire to expand and the facilities we will need.”

Aren smiled awkwardly. Aren did not notice this at all when he saw the blueprint, but Camille — considering she is a prescient AGMI — had taken even this into account.

“I must say, this is enticing enough that we might consider investing into Rak— Paradigm, as it will be called, and help you secure everything you need for the later stages.”

Aren smiled. Smiling was all he could do. He thought he was prepared for this, but he was like a fish on dry land. He had no idea what Bertrand was saying or implying, other than the fact that they might want to throw more money at him. Nothing, however, was free, and Aren could not see the end-game at all.

“For these arrangements, it is best to speak with Camille,” Aren said. “She will be managing the city.”

“I see,” Bertrand said and nodded. He smiled happily and stood up from his chair. “It is a wonderful blueprint and now I am glad I came here.” He even smiled at Eli, who seemed just as surprised by this development as he was. “Mister Aren, I have a feeling that this is just the beginning for you. There is a weight to you that I cannot describe. The Builder’s Guild will look forward to doing business with you, and we hope that you will come to us if the need arises.” He placed a silver coin on the table. “You can contact us through this coin.”

[ Your reputation with the Builder’s Guild has improved to Trusted. ]

[ Your reputation with the Architects of Civilization has improved to Trusted. ]

With those words, Bertrand bowed his head and departed the tent, humming happily.

Aren considered the latter notification. He had never heard of the Architects of Civilization. He realized that it could potentially be a secret Guild, but he was also aware of the fact that he knew so little about this world that such a thing might simply be wishful thinking.

The merchant cleared his voice. “Well, I am satisfied with how this went,” he said. “I am Alvin.”

First name only, again. Aren almost began to suspect that they did not trust him much, even though they should act as if their rapport to him was at the beloved level.

“We consider it in our best interests to conduct business with you and your organization,” Alvin explained. “Miss Eli has convinced me that supporting you in your… foreign affairs… would be prudent. We know nothing about you. You are, for the most part, a complete mystery and an unknown entity. Generally, we would not be doing business like this.”

“I am not sure I quite understand what business you have with us, Alvin,” Aren said. “Could you explain?”

Alvin smiled. “Of course,” he said. “Over the next few days, in participation with the Adventurer’s Guild, we will open several temporary shops, and mount some expeditions into the Catacombs. If you were to wish to sell something you found — in the Catacombs or elsewhere — we would be happy to provide you with that service. Maps also would be helpful. Any sort of information. We would like to build some settlements at the rest points. For adventurers.”

Aren considered Alvin’s words. “The Catacombs were not part of the deal, Mister Alvin,” Aren said.

“It is very valuable — yes — but we do not want it,” Alvin said.

“What do you want, then?” Aren asked.

“First pick,” Alvin said.

“First pick?” Aren pondered. “I am not sure I understand.”

“Suppose you found something valuable — that armor for example,” Alvin pointed at a set as he spoke. “If you were interested in selling it, and it was not promised to a specific party, you would bring it to us first. We will evaluate it, and if you are happy with the price, we can make a trade. If not, you can sell it to someone else if you can find a buyer or put it on auction.”

Aren pondered. “I see,” he said. “So you will buy it from me at a reduced price, and sell it for higher?”

Alvin nodded — openly admitting it. “Yes. We considered another arrangement — give us the items, and we will sell them, and keep a small commission. It is the same arrangement like this one, but you would get the coin immediately. And you do need coin no?”

Aren didn’t think of it that way, but now that he thought about it, he realized Alvin was right. The arrangements were practically the same. The profits the Merchants would make would not change, the only thing that would is when Aren would receive the money. On top of that, they assume all the risk and whether or not they can resell the item.

Why would they go that far? Either they were confident in the riches they could make, or it was related to the settlements they wanted to establish in the dungeon.

Aren nodded. “Very well. I find that acceptable. However, I cannot permit the settlements at this time.”

“Why not?”

Aren pondered. “So far we have found only one sanctuary point spacious enough to build a settlement. But it is currently… inhospitable to all biological life.”

“Ah, do you know the nature of the hazard? Is it a monster?” Alvin asked.

Aren could not help but smile, even though he tried not to. “I have no clue,” he lied through his teeth.

Alvin nodded. “Would you mind if we investigate it ourselves?”

Aren shook his head. “Be my guest,” he said. “Bring your own healer, though. Ours is reserved for us. We are at war, after all.”

Alvin nodded and stood up. “Very well. Thank you for seeing us. Eli?”

Eli smiled at Alvin and shook her head. “I will stay a moment longer.”

Alvin nodded and then departed.

When the two were alone — not counting the assistant who was furiously recording these conversations — Eli gestured to her companion and the man put the pen down and also left the tent.

“Aren,” she said. “I wish to ask you something.”

“Go ahead,” Aren said.

“In the Catacombs, there is an ancient warrior. He has died a long time ago, but his spirit remains in the shape of a suit of armor,” Eli said. “Have you seen him?”

Aren narrowed his eyes. “Deucalion?”

Eli’s eyes widened. “You have met him? You know his name?”

Aren pondered his answer.

“Please, you must tell me. Where can I find him?”

“He is gone,” Aren said. “He disappeared.”

Eli’s eyes widened even further. “Gone?” The shocked Eli seemed to consider something before adding a hesitant question. “And he… spoke to you?”

Aren pondered whether or not he could tell her. After a moment, he nodded. “He said he was forced to watch the decline of civilization because his duty was greater than his oath. He lamented that he would disappear the same way he was born — nameless and unknown.”

Eli pressed a hand against her chest. “He said that? His duty was greater than his oath?”

Aren nodded and then narrowed his eyes. He did not like where this was going. “Eli, did you know Deucalion?”

Eli shook her head. “No. Unfortunately.”

Aren sighed in relief.

“One day, I may have a special request for you,” Eli said as she stood up. “But for now, I will leave you to it. Have a good day, Aren.”

Without waiting for a reply, Eli left, leaving Aren alone in the tent, and to reminisce about the forgotten part of his encounter with Deucalion and the promise he — or rather, Leviathan — made. To restore Deucalion’s homeland, and to build a monument to him.

Where was Eos anyway?