[You are now Level 2.]

Even after having his mood ruined by dying to an enemy he underestimated, chills of pure delight washed over Raidishier upon seeing the latest notification.

‘My first level-up…’

The boy released a wistful sigh, simply gazing lovingly at the notification until it slowly faded away...at which point his expression became neutral again, because his Level didn’t actually mean that much in his current circumstances. He’d gone a completely different route to the vast majority of players--one that would naturally result in short-term losses. Unlike everyone else, he wouldn’t be efficiently grinding EXP in the wilderness around Beginnerville with a well-rounded party. He wouldn’t be investing in equipment like weapons and armor, or consumables like high-quality foods and potions.

The boy released a tired sigh this time, the stressful battle and death having taken a toll on him despite not feeling any physically different. Fighting monsters to the death was...only some of what he'd expected it to be. The thrill of live combat was definitely there, but when it ended it left him feeling as though he'd just speedrun a book full of math problems. He always assumed that he'd be able to just...move on right then and look forward to the next fight.

He didn't seem capable of that, but he'd died and returned with full resource pools, so standing around would be a waste of time. He put away his whip and returned to moving as a beast would--on feet and hands--before making his way deeper into the cavern...until he remembered his level-up and just plopped down on his belly. Raidishier really was tired if he’d forgotten about it so soon, he realized.

'I'll just rest for a few minutes after assigning the points...'

……

The sun shone brilliantly in the sky, bathing the craggy rock below with bountiful warmth as sounds of combat ceaselessly rang.

"HYYAAAAA!"

A high-pitch--some would say "cute"--warcry reverberated through the dry, rocky landscape as the Warrior it came from stood her ground against two stone monsters at once. The bipedal, featureless creatures assailing the short swordswoman reminded her of Minecraft creepers, as they were tall without arms, but fought nothing like them and were made of four separate rocks--one per leg, then two for an upper and lower body. Perhaps it would have been funny to watch them blow themselves up in attempts to take her down, but what they actually did was ultimately way better.

Angela sidestepped as the first monster to reach her swung its upper body down at her, like a really aggressive headbutt that started at the waist. It was adorable!

She mightily swung her sword down onto the back of the creature's "head" before it could pull back up, striking the magical, jewel-like golem core which served as its only weak point. Then before she could land another sword swing or even a good pommel-strike on the stone beast, its companion interrupted her with its own swift headbutt.

"Ow!"

It only grazed her but it still stung, so she retaliated with a miffed kick at the golem, only dealing a few damage without destabilizing the heavy thing at all. Not very effective when considering that she was trying to kill it, but it served to make her feel better.

The girl retreated a few steps, giving her adversaries enough space to charge and headbutt her again. This method of waiting for them to attack so she could dodge and strike their weak points wasn't the safest because the stone creatures were surprisingly speedy, but it was efficient, and Angela wanted to earn as much coin as possible so she could buy herself a big-ass sword as soon as possible!

After a couple minutes of close-encounters and slicing at the cores embedded in the backs of the golems' heads, the two monsters were finally drained of all their HP and collapsed into their four constituent parts. Angela exhaustedly collapsed onto her bum, dropping her sword. She tilted her head back as she gasped for air, her stamina near 0, too tired to even check if the monsters dropped special loot.

"You idiot!" a voice immediately shouted as the speaker walked out from behind the boulder he was previously using to hide. A glasses-wearing boy who'd fit right into Angela's ex-high school as one of her studious underclassmen whom she tutored in history approached with a deep frown. Behind him trailed the long hems of his starry Celestial Mage robes, and in his hand was a wand, which he flicked in Angela's direction, sending her a pulse of healing magic.

"A little...more? Please?" Angela asked between breaths, her health still in the red.

"And that's why you're an idiot!" he yelled with such ferocity that would have undoubtedly caused him to suffer an embarrassing voice crack if he weren't using a virtual body. "I told you after you killed the last ones that I was out of mana! But you went and attracted more! I could only regen enough for that!"

The Warrior's arms gave out and she fell flat onto her back, allowing her to see the funny expression on her healer, albeit upside down.

"I figured that…might as well kill...as many as I can…while I'm…here."

"And risk dying? Risk letting me die right after?!" His arms were crossed stubbornly over his chest.

"Yeah?" she asked without hesitation. "There aren't any…consequences…right?"

"Except that dying HURTS!" he shrieked, throwing his arms into the air. "Oh my gods, you're dumb. You're a good fighter, but gods damn!"

He continued complaining while pacing circles around Angela for long enough for her to catch her breath, at which point she put away her sword and got back on her feet to inspect the golem remains.

"When we get back to the city we are parting ways," the Celestial Mage announced. "I don't hate you or anything, but I don't wanna waste time with people who...whose playstyles are so incompatible with mine."

"Yeah, that's cool. Sorry," Angela responded cooly with only a little bit of guilt as she rolled over what used to be a golem's leg, finding nothing. Unfortunately, there were no special drops this time either. She’d heard that these stone golems had a chance of dropping intact cores regardless of if you destroyed it, but after almost a dozen golems with no cores, the drop chances were obviously pretty low. Damn. She wanted to give the golem cores to Michael so he could incorporate them into his creations. Make a cool earth-attributed helmet for her, or something.

“Let’s be on our way, then,” the Warrior said with a disappointed sigh, turning the golem parts into coins and pocketing them. Then she kicked up some dirt and began the journey north back to Beginnerville.

“Yeah…” The Celestial Mage’s confirmation trailed off at the end implying he had more to say, so Angela turned to look at him for an explanation. When he saw her looking he continued with, “I haven’t questioned it so far because I assumed you had your reasons, but...you said your friend is a crafter? But instead of giving the golem parts to him you turned them into coins? The rock the golems here are made from gives a lot of EXP when crafted with.”

Angela’s eyebrows quirked upwards questioningly as she recalled the large mana-infused stones that used to make up the bodies of her enemies. “They’re too big to fit in my inventory pouch and too heavy to carry, so I figured that I’d come back with a wheelbarrow or--” The Celestial Mage facepalmed. “...something.”

The boy dramatically dragged his face down using the hand he facepalmed with. “You...didn’t rent an MPB?”

Beginning to turn red with embarrassment at the implications of his question, Angela asked, “Umm...a what?”

The Celestial Mage gave the Warrior a flat look before beginning to walk past her on the way back to the city. “A monster-parts bag. I get that a lot of people like entering games blind...but the Adventurer’s Association has posters everywhere in the building advertising the thing.”

The two trekked back to the city in silence--Angela’s face buried in her hands to hide the embarrassment--and parted ways without goodbyes.

……

“So, that’s what happened, and I’m gonna need to look for another healer or a party in need of a Warrior. Don’t laugh.”

Michael, as ordered by Angela, did not laugh. Instead, he spasmed, holding in the laugh.

“Hey!” Pouting, Angela smacked Michael’s trembling shoulder with the back of her hand, causing him to fumble with the awl and needle he held, nearly dropping them. After a minute of suppressed giggles Michael’s hands were again steady enough to continue stitching together the upper and sole of the shoe he was in the process of making.

“So, you have nothing to say?” Angel asked, watching intently as the boy’s hands slowly and clunkily attached the two pieces of leather together as though his hands were guided by a robot--a telltale sign of crafting with the game’s aide that any player could spot.

Without moving his eyes away from his work, Michael explained with a smile, “Well… First of all, I’ve told you countless times to curb your excitement and pay attention to your surroundings, but you never listened. This incident with the monster-parts bag will hopefully be the catalyst that makes you more observant.”

Even without turning to look, the Tinkerer knew Angela had begun to pout again, forcing him to suppress another chuckle.

“And secondly, it’s fine that you didn’t collect any golem stone or cores because I won’t be capable of using them for a while. Remember, I said I’m going to master the basics of armor crafting before even beginning to deal with incorporating magic.”

Angela shifted on her feet beside the seated Tinkerer and whispered, “Oohh… Yeah, I don’t remember.”

Before he could give her an unsurprised shrug, a plump woman in a plain apron that matched the one Michael wore stepped into the cobbler workshop from a side room and hollered, “That’s how it should be! But noooo, every new Displaced Tinkerer comin’ in here without a shred o’ knowledge in shoemaking goes straight to demanding that I teach ‘em the fine art of imbuing magic into shoes ASAP! But how are ya gonna make magical shoes if ya don’t know how to make shoes?!”

This time Michael did not tremble in the slightest as his expression went stone cold, unwilling to let out even the smallest laugh in fear of angering the NPC cobbler--Remona--who owned the store. Her rants were honestly very amusing, but he’d learned after the first time that she did not take well to others laughing at her complaints of the Displaced--”the Displaced” being what NPCs called players, because in the game’s lore the players were people displaced from their original world.

Then, to Michael’s horror, Angela giggled. Wide-eyed and in shock, he watched as Remona’s expression grew fierce, and she reached down to take off one of her shoes...before stopping, calming herself down, and settling for giving the Warrior the stink eye. The two childhood friends shivered at that, and Michael hurriedly explained to Angela what she’d done wrong in a private message through his phone. After reading the text which appeared as a prompt, the girl paled and apologized to the cobbler, who just snorted before getting to work on a pair of shoes she hadn’t finished.

Remembering how much it hurt to be smacked around by her shoe, the Tinkerer blew a sigh of relief at the fact that Remona had let Angela off--probably because the Warrior looked the same age as her daughter.

“Anyway,” Michael began in a whisper, turning to face his friend, “can you hold off on the monster hunting for a little bit? Do a few hours worth of solo Quests? I want to go with you when you find a new party and hunt with them, just to watch from the side. Ya know, to see it all in person.”

Angela nodded, then patted the hilt of her sword on her hip with a smile. “It’s hella fun to swing this into monsters! You’ll wanna try it as soon as you can make the necessary equipment.” She heavily patted Michael’s shoulder, making him lurch forward, before beginning to take her leave. “Just message me when you’re almost done with those shoes and I’ll hurry back.”

“Of course,” the Tinkerer replied, watching Angela exit the cobbler workshop before returning to the shoes. It wouldn’t be long until he completed them thanks to Aff being just lenient enough to not make crafting as arduous as it was in real life. Then, he’d just give them to Angela because Remona would sooner journey to Aff’s version of Hell than sell a beginner Tinkerer’s shitty practice product.

“She’s a cutie, that one,” Remona commented loudly without looking up from the leather shoe her hands professionally danced over, accomplishing what Michael was currently learning to do but at a breakneck speed compared to him, and without compromise for quality.

‘Speak of the devil.’

“Indeed,” Michael commented simply without desire of speaking further on the subject--though not because he didn’t want to, but because he’d learned over the last day with Remona that the plump woman was the type to just state something without intention of beginning a conversation. When he’d been first taken in as an apprentice by Remona and she began to teach him the very basics, she was surprised by his knowledge of the tools she used...but rudely told him she didn’t care when he began explaining that he had some prior experience with leather making thanks to his family.

The teen sighed as the workshop grew silent except for the sounds of their tools, wishing he had a conversation partner. He could always pull up a movie or video to watch, but it just didn’t feel right to be so distracted when he was still learning the basics. Conversation would keep him just as entertained without disturbing the learning process nearly as much, but there was none to be had with Remona. Oh well.