At first, I decided to go towards the tower that had a spire. I had to focus on something to get me moving forward. It was especially noticeable, from anywhere in the city.

Other NPCs and players were walking leisurely along or alternatively were running past me. But none of them cared about me. As it should be. 'A man is going his way and isn't interfering with anyone, so don't get in his way.'

Walking hurriedly, I passed an old man wearing a patched shirt and dark pants. He had been working hard, dragging luggage on a small trolley, but at that very moment, he stopped to rest.

"Where are you going? You're gonna crush my legs!" The tone was angry and scolding, coming from behind me, which made me turn around.

A player or an NPC? He's more like a player, I looked at the massive character and the system obediently brought up all of his available information.

Player – Solnar (Powerful)

Level – 12

Yeah! I thought. His nickname is completely in line with his looks! Only a very self-confident and narcissistic personality could choose such a "cool" name for the game's character and choose so bright an appearance.

It was a six-foot-tall bodybuilder with broad shoulders, blond hair, and blue eyes.

Well, the old man was apparently pulling his cart, but, as he was old and weak and his load was heavy, he had been hunched, making it uncomfortable for him to look backward. So he did not give way to the guy behind him, because the old man just hadn't seen him. So, the guy was upset by such a show of disrespect and decided to dispose of all his accumulated anger for the day on the poor NPC.

"Are you blind? You old moron!" Ignoring the quiet excuses of the old man, Solnar grabbed him by the chest and lifted him into the air. The old man's clothes, which clearly weren't new, tore at the seams conspicuously. "I wish I could kill you, but I don't want to deal with the guards!" The player spat contemptuously. "You get to live for now!" Throwing the old man aside, he kicked the cart angrily, turned it over, looked around for loot and then jogged away.

"Where do such fools even come from?" I approached the old man, stunned by such behavior, and helped him to his feet.

"Thank you, sir," he said, and tears immediately appeared in his eyes.

"Yeah," I muttered, clenching my fists for an instant.

If this had been reality, I would've interfered at once, as I always had enough strength. But here and now—this is a game and my interference would not have changed anything, or could have even sent me to the point of rebirth.

I continued helping the old man. Together, we put the cart on its wheels again and fixed the luggage, just a pair of bags.

"Let me help you," I offered sincerely, looking at the old man take the handle with his shivering hands and plant his crooked feet onto the ground.

'And quests... well, those can wait a bit. How would you behave in this situation? Would you really turn away and pass by, pretending not to have noticed anything at all? As if saying, it is just how life is. Moreover, it is a game and everyone is inanimate here—a set of programmed code. Well, yes, I agree, it's a game. But AIs are not completely inanimate, biocrystals and NPCs, controlled by them, behave quite like people. They love and quarrel, make friends and enemies. They are like us, only in another world, the world created by people.'

So, I took the handle of the cart, not listening to the old man's objections, and only asked what direction to drag it in.

"Eh, you needn't do that, sir," the old man again kept repeating himself, although he smiled and was glad to get help.

I moved slowly, although I had enough strength to go faster, as I was trying not to overtake the old man, walking beside me and telling his story. And the story was quite an interesting one.

It turned out that I had met (who could imagine!) a bankrupt jeweler. About a year ago, this respected and successful man had turned into a beggar, collecting scraps, rags and sleeping God knows where. And the guilty party for his ruin was the local clan of players! However, it had also been the fault of the old man himself. As I understand it, the master jeweler took a risk— he took on the clan leader's order to make very elaborate jewelry, but did not finish the work in time. According to the nuances of the contract (and the clan lawyer was no fool), he had to pay considerable money in recompense for the work not getting done in time. And the leader had no intention to delay things. The complaint was immediately sent to the Guild of Jewelers and the prince, the ruler of the city. The relationship between the clan and the prince was at the level of Respect. The amount paid up was equal to the cost of the order itself. The master sold everything he had managed to create, and his workshop, and only then was the contract closed. After all, it had also been necessary to pay for the forfeit to the employees. After such a fiasco, the old man's reputation was ruined. He sometimes got small orders, though at the lowest prices, no one was going to give him big orders due to his reputation with the clan. The master began to drink his grief away, quarreled with his family, and soon he renounced everything, and even left his home. It could not even be called home: just two rooms in one of the common houses on the street, belonging to the Guild of Jewelers.

Of course, I did not ask how his wife and children were doing without him. After all, it was his personal decision and responsibility.

So, we slowly came to the outskirts of the city, to the poor and beggar's quarters. There were half-ruined houses, dirty streets, and dark gateways. It was an abode of thieves, murderers, and other very different kinds of outlawed people. I hoped we would not be killed passing by here.

"We're going there," the old man pointed to one of the aisles between the houses.

Okay. We turned the corner and approached an inconspicuous iron door. The old man knocked a couple of times, calling for someone named Eran—apparently the owner of this house.

Ten minutes later, the door opened with a creak, and on the threshold appeared a short, dressed in all black, one-eyed man of indeterminate age.

"It's just you, Grandpa," he was not surprised at all. "Today, I'm the only on duty. Come in quickly." The man took a step forward and to the side. "Not you!" He blocked the passage and his hand roughly pressed against my chest when I went to follow the old man. "I don't know who you are, noble, and will not let you into my house!" The man grimaced through his teeth and peered at me angrily.

'First, they called me sir, now they call me a noble. What did the game's random system choose for me when it created the character?'

"Eran, he's with me," the old man said quietly, peering outside, "He's a good fellow, even if he's one of those gentlemen types. Why are you so angry?"

The one-eyed man looked thoughtfully at the old man, then at me again. I could almost see the gears spinning in his head. He probably knows the jeweler well. But I'm obviously unpleasant to him, as he has no respect for nobles.

"OK," he removed his hand and allowed me to pass, "But know this! There are some people who don't really like your type. So don't get cocky. They can cut you up before you even blink," the one-eyed man grinned as he said this.

I shrugged and dragged the cart into the building. We found ourselves in a long, wide corridor with many doors on both sides, each of them with a number on it. At the entrance, there was a tiny room and a table that probably belonged to the one-eyed Eran.

"Don't be mad at him," the old man was confidently walking ahead of me. "Eran is, of course, a robber and a murderer, but he has never killed any innocents. His house is a shelter for people like me. And he doesn't charge a high fee for accommodations and food."

"Yeah, ok," I whispered softly.

"Do you doubt me?" the jeweler chuckled. "You shouldn't. You know, before I got here, I thought as you do now. I used to divide everything into black and white. And it turned out to be very different from that," the old man waved his hand annoyingly, "I live here now."

He stopped at the door with a "happy" # 13 painted on it, as we had walked more than half the length of the corridor.

Having rummaged in the inner pockets of his shirt, the old man pulled out a large, rusty key on a short rope, struggled a bit with the lock and opened the door to a small but cozy room.

"Come in," he offered, "I have only the one bed, you'll sleep on it, as you're a guest after all, and I'll rest on the floor. It's better than sleeping outside. Or are you in a hurry?" the jeweler suddenly asked with a squint.

"Well, no," I answered honestly.

The quests can wait, I have plenty of time.

"By the way," the jeweler asked. "What's your name?"

"Kraven."

"What a strange name," the old man shook his head. "Well, you can call me Grandpa. Yeah, just Grandpa!" He repeated his name, seeing my surprised expression. "I'm used to the nickname. And ... thank you again, Kraven," the jeweler held out his hand.

OK! I happily shook his hand. He hadn't revealed his name before, maybe he'll say it some other time. I'm curious now.

Ring-ring

The quiet chime of bells caused me to wince in surprise as the, lines of a semi-transparent system message popped up in front of my eyes.

A hidden task: To help Grandpa, is done

Reputation with NPCs is increased to "Respect"

Level 2 has been obtained

You have 3 points available for distribution

'Hm? This is quite weird and sudden.'

'Although, the world of Noria is full of these kinds of hidden and secret tasks, generated by the Artificial Intelligence for certain situations.'

'You throw, for example, a coin to a beggar, and immediately messages come. The beggar turns out to be a disguised high priest of some heavenly patron. It happens sometimes. There are well-known occurrences in real-world history, when in ancient times kings and emperors dressed as ordinary poor people and walked around the cities, watched how people lived, how they treated each other, whether they cursed the government and their rulers or not.'

'Sometimes it is different. Some hidden tasks can bring significant benefits, others are just a small plus to your virtual karma, but the third um...can cause so much trouble that you'll regret it a hundred times over.'

'So, in this case, the system counted in my favor the help I provided and good attitude I displayed toward the old jeweler, throwing a certain amount of experience and, at the same time, increasing my reputation. I don't need the second level, as well as the three free points accompanying each new level, because for me it's too early still, the reputation, on the other hand, is a very good addition. This task, by the way, can be attributed to those affecting karma, useless, but pleasant nonetheless.'

'Also, it is not simple to gain experience points and reputation in the game.'

'The amount of experience given for completed tasks, killing mobs, creating items, and so on, is never indicated. Neither is how much is left to the next level. The experience value is unknown and highly personalized for each player. Everything is left to the discretion of the AI controlling the game. You could kill a dozen hares in the nearest forest and not get any points, but you could collect cabbage in the garden for an old woman and get the long-awaited level. Now, of course, if you manage to kill a wolf that's level 11, the AI will honestly evaluate the method of the kill and give you enough experience for at least two or even three levels. But the same method will not work the second time, you will need to come up with something new or modify the old quite a lot.'

'As for reputation... There are four kinds of negative and the same number of positive reputations. Let's start with the worst case—'Hatred.' They will kill you always and everywhere they see you, if they can, of course, or the consequences of a murder will not result in death for the NPCs. Do not consider those who hate you to be hateful, bloodthirsty maniacs. Oh no, they can make plans, be careful and cautious. Then comes 'Enmity'—they may kill you or maybe not. It depends on their mood, so to speak. 'Dislike'—they probably will not talk to you, answer your questions, either, but they can send you "to hell" if you are too persistent or hit you if you annoy them too much. And finally, you have 'Mistrust' - it is One-Eyed thief and murderer's attitude to me. Simply put, he does not like me and that's it.'

'Now more on positive reputation—'Friendliness'. If none of the above-mentioned things happen between you and NPCs, then you have this reputation by default. You can chat with them, ask them something, bargain, help, if possible, even get a quest. The next one is 'Respect'—for example, Grandpa: I'm sure the system gave me the reputation at the moment when I helped him, but it did not hurry to show that to me, maybe, it did not want me to get too complacent. In this case, the NPC thinks you are their best friend and tries to help you with all their strength, for example, by giving you rare and interesting quests. 'Reverence'—if they are of the opposite sex, be careful, he or she could start to flirt, this isn't a joke. You will always be accepted as a member of the family, given all the best, given protection and so on. 'Exaltation'—you are almost God to them.

You can find out your current reputation only by looking at external signs. No figures and data, except system messages about its increase (as in the case of Grandpa) or decrease, and the game does not generate these messages for you. You could kill a wandering cat, then you meet a merchant, and he turns out to be the father of the girl who owned the cat, who saw what you did. Then you will be asked to move along and not interfere with trade. If you start to argue, he will call the guards.

Ring-ring

What else could this be?