General Jackson lay down on the ground of his temporary hovel and sighed. He covered his eyes with one arm, placing his free hand on his chest. They had failed again. The prime minister would call him at any moment, and he’d have to explain why they failed. Again.

Ring, ring.

As expected. General Jackson raised his arm and pressed on the green button of the screen that had appeared in front of him. There was a moment of silence, then an excited voice came through. “General Jackson! Tell me the good news.”

General Jackson inhaled through his nose. “We failed, sir.”

For a while, only the sound of heavy breathing could be heard. “Failed?”

“Yes, sir. Failed.” General Jackson said. The shoddy door to his hovel opened by a tiny crack. A soldier peered through, but the general shook his head, pointing at the call interface, and the door closed. “The damages have been minimized. Only one soldier was lost.”

“How could you fail again!?” the voice on the other end shouted. “Did you know, the Renchf already secured their runestone quarry!? Are you telling me our Tribish special forces are weaker than the Renchf’s?”

“The Renchf had the help of NPCs,” General Jackson said, steeling his voice. “And only four members of our SFs are here. The rest of the people are ordinary citizens with no combat experience. Not only that, but the nature of the Renchf’s SF is inherently based on magic. Our men are superior when it comes to modern combat, but all we have are swords.”

“General Jackson,” the prime minister said. “Do you know what I just heard?” There was a pause. General Jackson kept his mouth shut. “Excuses! You think I don’t know how many people you’ve gathered? Over 200 of our citizens are helping you establish that settlement. Bring them all into the quarry and secure it!”

“Numbers won’t work on the creatures inside,” General Jackson said. “And the Tribish made a promise to their citizens, didn’t we? We wouldn’t force them to do things they didn’t want to.”

“We’re paying them to play the game! You can damn well order them to do whatever you want,” the prime minister said. “Listen up, General. If you don’t secure that runestone quarry within the next two days, you’re going to be replaced. Understood? The Tribish have always led the world. We can’t fall behind now.”

General Jackson sighed as the call interface winked out of existence. He sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Was it his fault that none of the citizens knew how to fight? Was it his fault that their SF had spawned on the other side of the world? The Renchf had an unbelievably good stroke of luck in the form of hirable NPCs; no other country had secured the strategic resource they had settled next to. General Jackson shook his head. Though he was second place on the leaderboards, he couldn’t capture a quarry by himself. Not with those giant lizards living there. If only he had the help of a strong mage. It was a shame the Tribish emphasized technology over magic.

The door creaked open again. “What is it, soldier?” General Jackson asked, lowering his hands and fixing his posture as he stood up.

“A group of traveling merchants wish to enter the city.”

“Traveling merchants?” General Jackson asked. “NPCs? Take me to them.”

At the gates to their city, General Jackson approached a convoy of wagons. At the head, there was a fallen angel hugging a child with a tail in a bear onesie. Beside them, there was a nervous horse and two people wearing matching rings. The man in front of the horse walked up to General Jackson and smiled. “Hello,” he said. “My name’s Nelson. I’m the head of the Golden Crow Merchants. Are you the mayor?”

“Of sorts,” General Jackson said and extended his hand. The two men shook. “I’m General Jackson of Great Tribain.” His eyes widened slightly at the sight of armed guards exiting from the wagons in the back. “What brings you here?”

“I heard that a new settlement cropped up around these parts, and I decided to check it out, sell some wares,” Nelson said with a smile. “This is my wife, Monika. And these are my friends, Lorin and Khrx.”

General Jackson smiled and nodded at the trio behind Nelson. For some reason, he thought the cute child was glaring at him. Was there something on his face? For [Resolution] to dress their NPCs in onesies though, even if it looked adorable…. He turned his gaze back onto Nelson. “We’ll be happy to accept your business; please, come inside.”

***

Khrx’s head swiveled as he hung in Lorin’s grasp. He could walk, but it was a lot easier to let Lorin carry him. After all, his legs were short and his constitution pitiful. The Tribish settlement was based on the side of a river. There were a few people farming the lands with tools made of wood and stone. A flimsy wall made of wooden stakes had been erected around the settlement, and a few men were patrolling the border. Bloodstains marked the ground, and Khrx’s stomach growled at the smell of slaughter.

Monika smiled and handed him a cookie before patting his head. The trio followed behind Nelson, leading the rest of the Golden Crow Merchants into the center of the settlement. People stared at them as they made their way through. Men and women with golden hair and blue eyes. None of them had tails or cat ears. “I’m going to eat Luke’s face the next time I see him,” Khrx muttered to himself, his ears pressing flat against his head. He pulled the hood of his onesie lower, hiding his eyes. But there wasn’t anything he could do to hide the tail that stuck out of his onesie. He could feel the Tribish’s stares piercing him. It had been a long, long time since he felt shame. “This is what the surface dwellers look like, he says. Cheeky bastard.”

As the Golden Crow Merchants settled in the center of the settlement, they pulled out cloths to place their wares on: hoes, sickles, and shovels made of metal. Glass bottles filled with odd-colored liquids. Armor made of leather and thick cloth. Swords and shields made from metal and wood. But the items that attracted the most attention were the pastries and food.

The Tribish players came forth and traded with the merchants, pulling out strings threaded through coins. Nelson handled most of the transactions while Monika sat atop a wagon, monitoring the trading site. Lorin and Khrx were beside her. “Ah,” Khrx said and pointed at a man browsing the items near the furthest wagon. “He’s going to steal something.”

“Hmm?” Monika’s attention turned onto the man. “What makes you say that?”

“Plenty of creature have tried to steal from me,” Khrx said, puffing his chest out. “I can tell when someone’s trying to steal, fight, or run away just by the scent their emitting.”

The man leaned forward, grabbed a sword, and dashed away. The guard in charge of the wagon rose to his feet and shouted, “Stop, thief!”

Monika snorted and pointed at the retreating thief. There was a flash of white light accompanied by the cracking of thunder. The thief fell to the ground face first, his body twitching. The guard seized the thief’s wrist and retrieved the sword. He raised the weapon into the air. “The price of theft is a hand.”

The twitching man screamed as blood splashed onto the ground. The guard snorted and walked back to the wagon, ignoring the stares of the Tribish people. He placed the bloody sword onto the cloth and smiled. “Our wares are very good. See how cleanly they cut?”

“He, he cut my hand off!” Tears ran down the thief’s face as he clutched his arm. “It hurts! It hurts so much! Logout!” As soon as he finished speaking, his eyes glazed over, and his body stopped moving like a puppet with cut strings. Blood continued to flow out of the man’s wound, but he didn’t react.

“Did he lose his soul?” Monika asked, tilting her head.

A tall man, General Jackson, pushed his way through to the wagons. He glanced at the limp man and frowned. “What happened here?”

“Mayor,” Nelson said, nodding at the general. “He tried to steal, so we enacted justice. I’m not sure why he’s like that though. Maybe shock?”

The guard behind Nelson laughed. “He did get shocked by Monika’s spell.”

General Jackson frowned. “We have our own laws regarding thieves.”

“Oh?” Nelson asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you not followers of God Jax? Your laws differ from his decrees?”

General Jackson furrowed his brow but didn’t say anything. He lowered his head. “I apologize. I misspoke. My people were in the wrong. Please, stay and make yourselves at home. Also, when you’re free, can we talk? I have a request to make regarding that magician of yours.”