I didn't want to start a fight scene, but just like with the messenger, it seemed my muscle twitch kicked in automatically before my conscious mind could even recognize the danger.

Should I run away? I should, but I'm so close and I need that invite...

What can I say to appease this guy? What are your colors, baldy? Please join a gang and flaunt your allegiance proudly, for Bink's Sake.

“You son of a–“ (bodyguard)

The bodyguard stood up huffing in pain and made a second direct punching attack. I instinctually sidestepped and kicked him in the groin again.

It was the same attack pattern again. He was really fast... but fast was pretty much the only attack pattern I had trained myself to counter in the game. I was literally frame-perfect at countering fast attacks.

What kind of speedrunner would want to fight low-level gobs with slow attack animations and worthless drops? Ain't nobody got time for that.

...Is this how things work here? I can counter a scripted enemy, but only if he makes an attack pattern I know and does it so fast I can't consciously react to it? If this guy was an ex-soldier from Suleiman's army, the in-universe reason for his recognizable attack patterns could be his conditioned soldier training.

Maybe that really was the heuristic for running this world: a game strat works if and only if there's an in-universe reason for the pattern to exist.

In the game, Suleiman's regular soldiers had only three alternating fast attack patterns: high jab, high cross and low hook. The incoming patterns were easy to recognize from the starting stance, and if you memorized the sequences, you could avoid the strike vectors with a practiced skill runners called Polebooting: timed pre-emptive sidesteps and dodges coupled with piercing groin kicks.

Alright, rando; if my assumptions are true, your fast muscle memory attacks against my fast muscle memory counters will be your downfall.

“Look, dude, I really just came here to talk, I don't want to continue this – “

“I'll break your legs!“ (bodyguard)

No. No. Grabbing is not good. Please don't start improvising or doing slower uppercuts or changing your frame rate, you're throwing of my timing. I don't have any back-up melee strats up my sleeves.

No, no, no. Don't try to bring me to to the ground, I'm not into wrestling.

Crap, he managed to grab my cloak. I unfastened the cloak clasp from my neck with a sweep and took some distance.

Should I draw my revolver– no, that'll just bring more trouble. What should I do? If he continues with improvised grabs, he's going to move slower and catch me. He needs to stay in phase one.

Should I taunt him and try to bring him back up to speed?

“What is this slow bullshit, can't you punch faster?”

“You...!” (bodyguard)

Oh boy, that did it. He stood up, tossed my cloak to the ground and took a proper stance again. Yes, faster! Come on, I want you to do it!

“Droser, stop at once! You're disturbing the neighbors!” (Gerany)

Shopkeeper Gerany leaned out from the second floor window. He was wearing a blue bathrobe and a white nightcap. My first thought was that he looked like an elongated Smurf.

Good timing, ranting bodyblock! He must have heard our little scuffle and woken up.

“Greetings, master Gerany!”

“Who are you? You don't look like you came to sell a fight.” (Gerany)

“Yes, master Gerany, I'm a peaceful customer. Name is Speedrun, I come from the north. If your guard doesn't attack, I won't attack either.”

Are we good? I guess we're good.

I need to stop killing it with these risky strats. Hold the adrenaline and calm down your peripherals, Joker. Back to the vanilla route. Don't bully the bully.

“What do you want at this time of the day? My time is valuable, you know.” (Gerany)

“I completely understand. I'm sorry to interrupt you during your free time, master Gerany. As I already said to this hairless gentleman, I have an interesting business proposal for you. It will surely be worth your time. Our mutual friend Featherhat recommended you.”

“Featherhat ? Are you–” (Gerany)

Gerany made a quick hand sign; sixth form, so I answered with first form. Merchant gang signs had six different forms that worked like rock-paper-scissors: you always threw back the next one on the line, except sixth one wrapped back to the first.

“I am.”

The fact that I kicked Gerany's guard dog twice in the curb injected a nice dose of extra credibility to the claim that I knew Featherhat, the long-time boss of the Cat Rests At Shopkeeper's Lap Gang. And I knew Gerany knew Featherhat because he mentioned him in his balcony monologues.

“I see. Hmph... Well, I'm already awake. Guide him in, Dro, I'll give him five minutes.” (Gerany)

The bodyguard named Droser looked at me with furious eyes, but didn't raise his hands. Hopefully he didn't realize that I can't really make much attacks of my own. Any slow attack, grab or non-common attack, and I'd go down like a puppet.

I did feel a bit more confident about my countering skill after kicking a bouncer down twice. Not confident enough to draw my revolver, mind you; enemies would definitely draw their guns faster. But yeah, it felt really good to kick some justice into this impulsive door operator.

I picked up my cloak from the ground and followed Droser inside.

The interior of the shop, as expected, looked like a tattoo parlor mashed up with a doctor's office. Gerany's customers were basically pimps and prostitutes looking for ownership tattoos, abortion pills, physical checkups, value estimates for slaves, rent rooms, and other related products and services.

A large number of erotic art pieces were hung up on the walls and there was also a large collection of pimp canes for sale on a side table.

Gerany the merchant, procurer of procurers, descended down to first floor in his blue bathrobe, pointed me to sit on a comfy red couch and poured some liquor only for himself. Then he sat down on an opposite chair. Droser stood next to the fireplace with a displeased expression.

“So, what does Feartherhat want then?” (Gerany)

“Oh, I'm not on a gang errand. This is a private matter.”

“I see. Are you buying then, peaceful customer with fast feet? You don't look like someone who works for the ladies of the streets nor one who nurtures them. You said you come from the north?” (Gerany)

“Correct. My name is Speedrun and I come from the Stray Dog City. Allow me to get straight to the point: I want to get into a merchant gathering, specifically into the one in the noble district tomorrow.”

“...That's it?” (Gerany)

“That is all. I happen to know you dislike these gatherings and I happen to know you always get invited still.”

“Really now? This is not the kind of business I expected from a northerner...” (Gerany)

The old merchant took a long sip from his goblet and stared at me, probably trying to scry my true allegiance from the colors I was wearing. I wore neutral colors on purpose, so I wasn't giving away any specific gang information at first glance. This, combined with the fact that I owned his guard dog quite casually and claimed that I knew Featherhat, made him probably very wary of me.

Maybe I went a bit too far with specifics. He wasn't inclined to accept the deal I was offering because he couldn't place my gang status in a clear category. By the way, are you packing or are you just happy to see me? He probably had a loaded revolver under that blue bathrobe. Let's push the money angle.

“I'm ready to pay very generously to take this troubling invitation off your hands, mister Gerany.”

“Even if it's somewhat well-known fact that I rarely go to these gatherings, you must realize that not getting the invitation in the future would be bad for my business.” (Gerany)

“I do not intend to do anything that would put your business in jeopardy or besmirch your reputation among your peers. My aim is to simply talk with certain person that I can only find through this gathering. I will only use your name to get inside, and nothing more.”

“You would still be treated as my envoy and approached by other merchants.” (Gerany)

“I will firmly tell them to contact you in person instead of confiding anything to my person.”

“Even though the company there is boring and the ceremonies tedious, the food and wine are free. And I am under an obligation to show my face in front of the guildmaster occasionally.” (Gerany)

“Naturally, but as I said, I have prepared generous compensation for your trouble.”

I took out a small pouch of coins that contained about half of the coins I still had. I placed it on the table between us and gestured him to count the money.

Gerany took the pouch, looked inside and was surprised to see gold krúricks instead of silver.

“I take it that the amount here also includes compensation for my guar–” (Gerany)

“Gerany, I'm getting lonely...” (bald woman)

A bald woman wearing a dressing gown had silently descended halfway down the stairs. She seemed drunk, or maybe high on some drug.

“Wait in the bed, daddy's talking money.” (Gerany)

Gerany waived his hand shooing her away and the lethargic bald woman returned upstairs.

Did this guy have a fetish for baldies or something? I glanced at the baldy bodyguard still in pain and he stared at me like declaring a vendetta. Please don't come after me, I didn't start this. I used reasonable force in self-defense. Honestly, he was bald eunuch from the start, your honor.

“Where was I? Hmm, you said your true aim is to find a person. What will you do after finding this person?” (Gerany)

“I will simply talk with him about a certain matter waiting for us in the future.”

“And this person is a merchant attending the gathering?” (Gerany)

“Yes, one that does not stay in one place for long.”

“Someone who deals in items overlooked by High Hats, perhaps?” (Gerany)

“Correct.”

“I see, I see...” (Gerany)

“Of course, if you want me to work as a real delegate and deliver your wishes to other merchants during the gathering, that is also a possibility. I am quite confident of my skills in promotional campaigning and business negotiations.”

“So it seems, so it seems... However, there's no need for that. My customers like to stay private. Just tell them to come to me, if you get approached. Do not approach any local merchants yourself.” (Gerany)

“I take it you are inclined to make a deal with me, then?”

“It seems the guild master must simmer in his displeasure a month or two without my presence.” (Gerany)

Letter of invitation GET. The invitation was in a black envelope, just like in the game. I quickly checked the wording of the letter and Gerany slipped in a handwritten note that I was his temporary representative.

Droser still bodyblocked me when I was about to leave. Has the tattoo ink permeated your brains? CRaSLap Gang will avenge me tenfold, if you try something stupid, you know.

“Leave it, Dro. You're out of your depth.” (Gerany)

Droser reluctantly moved out of my way and I left the shop in one piece.

Okay, that was the hard part of the run.

Just kidding. There are many harder parts coming.

After another night in the inn and another day collecting background info, I double-checked my gear and headed to the merchant gathering.

To my surprise, this Merchants: The Gathering was held in a regular hotel, or more like a high-class inn. I guess the merchants upgraded to large mansion gatherings later in the timeline when there were more of them?

The name of this inn was Salty Fairy Lord, a place I was pretty sure didn't exist in the game. There were several carriages in front of the inn already, even though I came early to the party.

I approached the spear-wielding guards standing at the front door and presented my black envelope in a straightforward manner. The guards didn't ask anything and didn't even check my bags.

After an old man in a butler uniform came and checked my invitation with Gerany's note, he bowed and guided me inside.

“May I take your cloak and bags, sir?” (butler)

“May I keep the bags?”

“You may, sir.” (butler)

“Then I'll hold on to them.”

“Understood, sir.” (butler)

The security here sure was lax. I could have saved my money and easily sneaked in after all. It was usually like this in the real world too, wasn't it? If you had a high visibility safety vest, carried a walkie-talkie and acted like you belong, you could just walk into restricted areas. Neon yellow hi-vis vests were the signature garments of modern-day burglar gangs.

Maybe the merchants had different levels of gatherings, like monthly gatherings at inns with low security and quarterly gatherings at mansions with high security? That kind of info was missing from the backstory. Or maybe it depended on the one organizing the event and it was the Salty Fairy Lord owner's turn to host.

In any case, I got inside and took the role of a wallflower watching merchants and traders go by. Most of the merchants were men; some of them I vaguely recognized, most were strangers; some of them looked at me with interest and a few came to shake my hand and introduce themselves. I kept dodging their inquiries to the best of my ability.

I felt like I was in a local trade expo, except there were no booths, and people seemed to complain about rivals in distant cities of Mu instead of looking for networking opportunities, or exchanged secret contracts using aliases instead of changing business cards.

Should I chime in with some Internet marketing strategies or introduce the idea of container ships? I could turn Revolution Movement into Industrial Revolution Movement.

Nah, I don't want to stand out any more than this. I also don't want to crash into anyone I've acquainted myself with during my stay in Crumbling Shores.

I should stick to one fake name instead of making up new ones on the go.

If secret societies organized trade fairs, they'd look something like this. There were several lightly-dressed women and manservants walking around, offering drinks, snacks and other services. I heard old men, while holding young women on their laps in the nearby table, boasting about their profits from selling war orphans as human sacrifices to Green Mountain cultists. Yep, I'll put these senior citizens on my kick-in-the-groin-later list.

I took small sips from my single goblet of red wine and stood behind a pillar next to the back wall, nonchalantly checking people that were coming in. The wine was quite thick and I didn't want to get drunk.

Alcohol was neurorunners enemy. It messed up your proprioception and slowed down your reaction time. Neuroware couldn't compensate fast enough. It was like throwing sand into your hard drive.

Crys, where are you? Did I get bad info?

Eventually the front doors were closed and opening ceremonies started. The event was formally opened by the guildmaster of the merchant guild, a stout gray-haired man in his fifties. After his short speech, people raised their glasses and goblets in celebration and started moving to different halls and rooms of the inn, or aimed for ballroom dances.

When the crowd in the lobby dispersed, I noticed that there was a written schedule for the night near the wide staircase. The schedule format was quite similar to the schedule that was seen in the anime episode “The Gathering”.

Event Schedule

2100 Doors open

2150 Welcoming words (Guildmaster)

2200 Dancing, wine tasting, first night lunch

0000 Fashion show (Jo Bak)

0100 Theater performance (Temple)

0200 Dancing, wine tasting, second night lunch

0500 Candles out

0700 Last warning (leave these premises quietly)

Candle Halls

- Protection & Loan Sharking Circles (west wing)

- Weapons & Smuggling Circles (east wing)

- Noble Round Table (north wing)

- Prostitution & Slave Trade Circles (south wing)

- Slave Exhibition (cellar)

These merchant mafiosos were just openly promoting criminal activities (or more like half-criminal activities in this world) and city guards looked away as long as they got paid. Maybe Crys got the original idea for inviting all gang representatives around the same table from these merchant gatherings?

I had to ignore few lines to keep my head cool.

I emptied the wine goblet into a flower pot and zigzagged through the merchant groups mingling in the middle corridor until I reached the east wing where weapon merchants presumably gathered.

I recognized them immediately. They were already here.

Sitting on a couch at the second floor platform, I finally saw Crystal Pencil and Dragon Kimono, two of the seven main characters.