Shin had never relaxed in his entire life.

The thought hit him like a bolt of thunder after three days of wandering the village, fishing, and casually plotting counter ripostes for any conceivable assault on his home and pack. Certainly he’d taken breaks, lounged in the sun or had a nap or whatever, but three full days of what was essentially idleness? Absolutely unheard of.

Obviously the most recent few weeks had been a whirlwind of activity. Planning, grinding, fighting, sneaking, outwitting, asking questions about fish. But even his days as a mongrel had been balanced on a razor’s edge. Certainly he’d had less going on, but how could one ever truly relax with the constant presence of death literally just around the bend?

But right now? He already knew the major strokes of the current plan, and he couldn’t put them into motion until the Tribe reached Level Two. Which would happen without any necessary plotting or scheming from him. And again: he truly had no other job. As far as he could tell, the only task he could perform that wouldn’t immediately result in some more useful and bizarrely apologetic villager taking it over was sweeping the pathway that led from the village square to the shrine.

It took twenty minutes at most, and Shin was entirely confident that if he ever missed a day, the wind would take care of the matter for him.

Though one could be forgiven for assuming it was some grand and noble sacrifice, if they’d ever witnessed one of the villagers coming across Shin mid-sweep. They all seemed to regard his handling of the little chore with the sort of beaming pride that really should be reserved for a child’s first steps. It was deeply embarrassing, but Shin was too paranoid that even this job would be taken from him to say anything about it.

All in all, however, Shin’s days had been languid and tranquil. And, he realized, incredibly boring. Thank the Goddess that the Storage Progress Bar would be completed together. Because if Shin had to relax for one second longer, his brain was going to devour itself.

The knock at his door couldn’t have come a moment sooner. Shin burst from his writing desk and rushed over, pausing only long enough to affect a casual air before opening the door. “Oh, is it time already?”

Gero quirked a teasing half smile, looking no less a warrior in her formal robe than with a club in hand. “You’ve been counting seconds under your breath for the last three days. I bet you’ve personally tallied every grain of rice in the storage.”

“You,”–Shin pointed a finger at Gero–”Are one thousand percent correct. Shall we?”

With that he offered her his arm, and the two descended the stairway to join the rest of the village in the gathering hall.

Spirits were high among the gathered kobolds, all clad in their cleanest robes with a festive air wafting throughout the building. It was the first time any of them had reason to mark an occasion before, and no one was quite sure what they were meant to be doing. Though they had all clearly agreed on one thing: whatever this sort of thing was supposed to be? Food was clearly involved.

Every single villager had seemingly brought enough food to support a modest gathering of their own, resulting in a feast that was grand by any standards. The food was simple, certainly; just rice, pickled vegetables and meat. Shin had briefly thought his own contribution of several nicely grilled trout would stand out from the rest of the offerings. But the moment he laid eyes on the glorious vision that was the whole roast pig Moots had brought, he knew he was destined to be nothing more than an also-ran.

Shin and Gero received more than a few cheerful greetings as they joined the crowd, but more than anything else the assembled villagers seemed increasingly restless. Judging by the sideways glances nearly every kobold was aiming towards that pig, if they had to wait much longer to eat a full-fledged riot might break out.

Momo seemed to still need a few moments, though, so it appeared as if they would have to continue testing the limits of their newfound civilized ways. Shin glanced over towards Gero. “I guess we’re supposed to…mingle now? Is that a thing?”

“I really don’t…” She trailed off, squinting at something further ahead in the crowd. “Is that the Player?”

Shin followed Gero’s eyes, and sure enough there was Bex. She was laughing at something Moots had just said, the old farmer clearly just as capable of charming a Player as he was kobolds. And Shin absolutely did not miss the way that Ceril was awkwardly attempting to edge his way into the conversation. Ugh. The elf had barely said three sentences to Shin in as many days, and the kobold was fairly certain every single one of them had been about Bex.

Clearly there was something Ceril knew about Players that he had not seen fit to share yet. Not that Shin minded. A capable rival keeps the mind sharp, and while Ceril was barely a rival and absolutely not capable, it was better than nothing.

As usual, the elf’s plot was thwarted without calling for an ounce of true effort. Shin raised his hand to the trio and Bex immediately noticed, calling a cheerful goodbye to Moots over her shoulder as she bounded through the crowd to return the greeting.

Ceril made as if to follow, but then he caught Shin’s eye and couldn’t resist flinching back. The elf pouted, giving his hair a haughty flick as he stomped away to sulk in the corner. Hm. His Arrogance was beginning to overtake his Cowardice again. Fun.

Bex grinned as she waved to Shin, looking very nearly like a villager herself in her simple robes. “Hey Shin, I whoa~...” The girl trailed off as she laid eyes on Gero, her tail and ears shooting up in an impressively kobold-like manner. “Who is this? Who are you?”

Gero raised an eyebrow. “That’s how you greet someone? Interesting.”

“Oh, um!” Bex flushed under the mild criticism. “Sorry, I mean, I’m Bex. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“I’m Gero.” She gave a small, approving nod. “Much better.”

The Player preened under the light praise, immediately dropping all pretense of formality again. “Omigod, I just have to say, you are so awesome?”

Gero did not seem to have expected this turn in the conversation. “I, uh, yes? I am?”

“I’m being serious!” She reached out and grabbed Gero’s hand, the much larger woman too overpowered by the Player’s sociability to protest. “I need to know you. I want to watch videos of you explaining proper workout techniques. I would drink any smoothie you suggested, even though smoothies are super gross. If you ever told me that a certain brand of athleisure wear was best, I’d throw out all my other clothes immediately.”

“I don’t…” Gero helplessly cast her eyes back towards Shin, utterly overwhelmed by the other girl’s immediate adulation. “I don’t know what any of that is.”

“Oh crap; I’m sorry.” Bex quickly released Gero’s hand, looking utterly mortified with herself. “That was dumb; I come on way too strong a lot of the time. Oh God, this is like Jenny Park all over again.”

Gero did her best to keep up. “Who?”

“She was this girl I totally wasn’t trying to hit on I just thought she was cool and we should be friends though I mean yeah we did wind up making out a little later on but that was during a blackout which I don’t think really counts and–”

“Stop.” Shin waved his hands. “Stop stop stop.”

Bex held herself still. “Okay, stopping now.”

“Right. Okay. Deep breath.” Shin drew in a breath, and the girl did the same. So did Gero, he couldn’t help noticing. He released his breath, and once Bex had done the same he continued on. “Are you trying to say that you want to be Gero’s friend?”

The Player nodded. “Yes totally. I mean yeah, Gero, you’re objectively hot but I’m not so thirsty that I’d come here to–”

“Bex.”

“Ah! Crap. Right.” The girl shook herself steady, then planted her feet and raised her head, a resolute expression on her face. “Gero. Let’s hang out sometime.”

Gero seemed to have gotten a grip on the conversation by this point. “Okay. Sure.”

Bex tightened her fists, seemingly soldiering through her intense desire to shriek with joy. “Also maybe you should show me some fighting tips! I haven’t started a Class yet, and I don’t know what yours is but you are obviously the best at it.”

“Well I guess that’s the second piece of proof that your eyes work.” Gero allowed herself a smile as Bex gave an appreciative laugh, the tension broken between the two. “Come by the barracks tomorrow. If you can even lift my club, I’ll make you my personal apprentice.”

Bex hissed in furious delight. “Yes friggin’ yes; this rules so–”

The Player’s meditation on what it was that, in fact, ruled was interrupted as a powerful murmur passed through the crowd. It seemed Momo had finally finished setting up her altar. The little cleric stepped forward, a silken gauze of incense draping itself across her shoulders as she spread her hands wide and prepared to speak.

“No! No speeches!”

Momo blinked, briefly unable to parse the outburst. “Uh?”

“No speeches!” The villager repeated, the crowd around him clearly in absolute agreement. “We’re hungry!”

Hm. It seemed like in the future, any potential pomp and circumstance should be scheduled distantly after dinner was served. Good to know.

Either way, Momo took the derailment of her ceremony in good humor. Having read the mood of the crowd, she simply turned her eyes towards the top of the staircase and called up to the kobold waiting there. “You heard them!”

Dyu nodded, then excitedly plopped the bag of rice down into the second floor storage room, filling the Storage Progress Bar and promoting the kobolds to a Level Two Tribe.

The hungry crowd gasped in spite of their stated impatience as a visible ripple cascaded out from the store room, leaving whatever it passed just a little bit nicer. The gathering area transformed from a pleasant-if-utilitarian space to a hall any noble would have been proud to entertain from, all lacquered wood and cunningly hewn stone. Even the clothes on their backs began to change, turning light and soft and bursting in bright hues and patterns that turned the room into a riot of colors.

Shin snapped himself out of gawking at Gero’s newly light blue robe just in time to realize he had something important to check. “Status!”

The kobold could barely contain himself as his Status Screen transformed in front of him, his eyes immediately drawn to the introduction of his sheet.

——————————————

Name: Shin

Race: Kobold (Citizen)

Class: “Tactician” (Lvl 12)

Description: Formerly a meaningless mongrel, now a mostly meaningless kobold, Shin is suspiciously adept at turning lucky breaks into obscene windfalls. A sneaky little git, what Shin lacks in refined strategic sensibilities he nearly makes up for in underhanded cunning and shameless opportunism.

Having overthrown his rightful masters through acts of cowardly deceit, Shin has managed to wheedle and cheat his way to a seat of real (if minimal) power. Whether or not he can maintain this facade will rely entirely on his continued ability to turn straw into gold-painted straw.

Shin is apparently a special Schemer now. Oooo~! Does he want a special little hat? Does he do a special little dance? Shin is still a Schemer, through and through, no matter what anyone else claims. Trash is trash, and a dog in fine clothing is still a damn dog.

——————————————

Oh fuck you Status Screen.

There were some other changes Shin needed to look at, but he needed to viciously attack like a whole half of that roast pig before he could muster up the will to glance at his sheet again.

Fortunately the transformed feast was a suitable salve for the apparently-still-a-Schemer’s wounded pride. The upgrading ripple had taken the base components of the kobold’s offerings and created from them a truly mouth-watering banquet, the dizzying array of dishes on display sending out the sort of aroma that would have made a stoic weep.

Moots’ roast pig, it must be noted, remained completely unchanged. Perfection is Perfection.

Before Shin could join the queue for food, however, Bex stepped in front of him. “Oh hey, before I forget! That was Shinki Itten becoming Level Two, right?”

Shin nodded, trying to decide whether knocking an immortal Player to the ground to get at the food faster was worth it. “Yes..”

“Okay awesome; since you’re Level Two I can finally trade in these!”

It was tough to say which stimuli reached Shin’s brain first: the two coins that Bex presented him with, or the cry of complete disbelief that burst out of Ceril. Because while the elf’s scream of impotent incredulity was loud enough to be heard from across the room and over the noise of the feast, the two coins were so wrong and so right that it was difficult to process anything else.

They should have been unremarkable: bright yellow and roughly the size of a man’s fist with a picture of a bearded king of some sort printed on either side. And yet the edges of the coins fizzled against the very stuff of the world, as if reality wasn’t entirely sure what to make of them and preferred to keep its distance.

For his part, Shin found it difficult to state how very much he wanted to grab hold of the things and never let go.

The kobold very carefully swallowed before responding. “What are those?”

Bex grinned, popping a hand down to her hip. “Oh, you didn’t know I was a whale? These,”–She waggled the coins in beside her face–”Are Royal Coins. And you’d better be ready.”

Shin’s throat was already dry again. “For what?”

“To drink from the sweet cup of Pay-to-Win.”