Priam was heading for the Colosseum. If awards and titles were available, he wanted them. The rcenaries intrigued him too. A faction that could respect his freedom and didn't try to force him to sign anything? It was almost too good to be true. Priam wanted to verify that.
The stone and gold tal building - surely to respect the do the - was visible from a distance. Priam had never visited the Colosseum in Ro, but the Concepts undoubtedly drew inspiration from it before multiplying its dinsions. The amphitheater must have been at least two hundred ters high, allowing Priam to orient himself easily. Its construction would have been possible in the old world, but it would have taken decades. The System had materialized it in seconds.
What impressed Priam the most was that each do had a Colosseum. All were identical, and their rankings and records were linked. Whoever made history in one Colosseum would make history in all. The conversations in the street were all about this. Every inhabitant had a champion and was betting on him. Priam would bet on himself. But what he wanted most of all was to find his family. If his father saw 'Priam' as an alias, he would know Priam's position. Or at least his do. Maybe he would be able to reach him? That was always more believable than thinking rcury or so other faction would help him without asking for the moon in return. Literally.
Walking down the street with his spear in hand, he was finally alone. Or at least he didn't feel like he was being followed. A few observers had tried to follow him, but a dark look and a threatening gesture from his spear had discouraged them. Solitude had weighed on him in Elysium, but now it reassured him. He no longer trusted his fellow n. Fortunately for him, his warlike appearance kept the curious away. Non-combatants stayed away, and warriors from powerful factions must have been relatively few, because he hadn't co across any. This worried him a little.
The assassins were - along with the guards - the only fighters who had appeared inside the dos. They killed or protected n, so they had no business being outside the dos. Yet, with the exception of the cultist he killed, he had seen none. Either the profession had been disdained, or Priam couldn't spot them. A trickle of mist appeared in the young man's wake. It was his only perception skill, and he hoped to increase its level as soon as possible.
Lvl Up : [Divination Resistance] lvl 3
TA (AFFI) 3
"Not the right skill, but I'll take it anyway."
On his way to the Colosseum to find answers to his questions, Priam walked up the alleys and streets of the city towards the monster that lood in the distance. He observed his surroundings, impressed by the adaptability of humanity.
Talking with Tjay about the politics of the do was one thing, but walking its streets was another. The factions and super factions of the universe seed far away as he strolled the streets of a city of many inspirations. Architecturally speaking, the do had a diterranean feel. Greek, Roman, French, Algerian, Lebanese, Egyptian, Turkish, and other countries' inspirations were mixed together. Each district was of different inspiration. Maghrebian dinas stood beside Greek temples and Roman baths in a strange harmony.
The Do - the inhabitants had not nad their city anything else - was crowded. The streets were full of people, and the street vendors stood next to the hurried inhabitants. As he passed by a beautiful Basque house, Priam felt nostalgic. He had grown up in the south of France, and his mories were flooding back. Perhaps he would never see the land of his youth again.
Most often, these houses were inhabited by one or two people. Groups fully occupied so hotels, and the entrances were monitored. The System built the houses, and anyone could live in them. If it was already occupied, all you had to do was evict the previous occupant. More than a day after the Reunion began, everyone had found a ho.
As he walked down the street, dodging a few invasive vendors and watching his pockets, Priam reflected on the population around him. He noticed a problem: no single complete family had crossed his path. As he watched a father holding his little girl by the hand, a wedding ring still on his finger, Priam understood.
When the Tutorial began, all humans had been teleported to one of the many dungeons that had housed humanity. Each dungeon held a maximum of twenty humans. So there were a few hundred million dungeons just for Earth. Your group mbers were chosen almost randomly from the people within a radius of several kiloters around you. If you lived in a remote desert with your family, good for you, you were in the sa tutorial as your family. If you lived in a big city, too bad, you had about a zero percent chance of fighting alongside your people.
Survivors of a single Tutorial were then transported to one of the worlds that made up the Concept Universe. If the System tried to keep family mbers apart as much as possible, it was for a good reason. The Concepts wanted to see humans struggle to beco stronger or gain power. What better ambition could a human have than to be reunited with their family? Few n and won were able to let go of their past lives. The quest and desire to find their loved ones was the main engine that drove humans to surpass themselves.
Of course, there were exceptions. The concepts did not separate children from their two parents. In a classic family of four, each parent inherited one child, for example. But protecting your children in this new world was also a good reason to want to increase your power. In the end, the Concepts always won...
Priam refocused on his surroundings. Most of the buildings Priam passed were occupied. Several million people lived in the Do. So of the houses had beco businesses and others were workshops. The Concepts didn't like lazy people; few survived the Tutorial without a job. Everyone in the do had a purpose. rchants sold resources that were loaned to them, and artisans bought so raw resources to increase their skill levels and sell a finished product.
Halfway to the Colosseum, Priam approached a store selling clothes. His own clothes were covered in dried blood. As he entered the store - a Byzantine-inspired hotel - he began to study the quality of the clothes on the racks. He touched so with his fingertips, puzzled, not recognizing any of the fabrics. Priam did not expect to find synthetic materials but rather cotton or wool. Strangely, the materials used were unlike anything he had ever seen, and [Identification] didn't help him much. Knowing that a garnt was made of Imops wool was of little interest to him.
The artisans had to work with alien elents. An approving expression appeared on his face as he tested so of the clothing. A hoodie inspired by a famous assassin's costu was durable, soft, and elastic. Priam's strength was far greater than a basic human's, yet he couldn't tear the garnt apart by pulling on it. As he wondered if he should use more strength, he heard a voice behind him.
"Can I help you?"
Priam smiled. He had sensed the stranger approaching through his light mist. Turning around, he saw a muscular man in his forties. Arms crossed, he watched Priam stretch his clothes with a reproachful eye.
"Um yes. I'm looking to buy a suit, in the style of this hoodie. I need sothing very durable."
The man grunted. "I am the tailor. Do you have money?" he said, looking at the young man's outfit.
Under the craftsman's critical gaze, Priam lowered his eyes. He had to admit that he didn't look very wealthy. He was covered in blood and wearing torn clothes. One look around the store indicated that prices were likely to be high. Priam had good taste and had not chosen the cheapest store.
"I have so monster cores," he said, holding up a dozen cores. These were his last normal monster cores, hunted before his fight with Orthos, he didn't want to sell the Barons' cores yet. They may have been worth much more and Priam didn't want to be ripped off.
The craftsman approached the cores. He took one in his hand and looked at it critically. After a few seconds, he put the core back in Priam's hand.
"These are cores obtained here," he asserted.
"Yes. Is there a problem?"
"Not at all. Most of the cores in circulation originate from alien factions. They are loaned to rchants. But they are not all equally valuable. The rarer the monster, the more valuable the core. Moon cores are the first of their kind, so they are much more valuable than most."
"Oh. I didn't know much about those specifics. How do I know the value of my cores?" asked Priam.
The man smiled. "By asking nicely to soone with the right skill to calculate their value. The System gives each core a value and my skill tells what that number is. If you don't have that skill... you might get ripped off, buddy. Before you ask, no, I'm not selling the blueprint for that skill."
Priam sighed. He should have known that nothing would be easy. The old Earth-based monetary system was unimaginably complex, and it only covered one planet. Priam shuddered as he imagined the economic system of an entire universe.
"I'm lucky to have stumbled upon an honest craftsman then, right?" he smiled. He had as much chance of getting scamd in this store as in any other, and he was pressed for ti. He would find the blueprint for this skill later. Being polite was just a way to try to cut his losses.
"Hahaha. A chance indeed. I'm Eren. Nice to et you. The hoodie you want will cost you a core. If you want a pair of pants, that's a second core. For that price, I'll have my son get you so shoes for free," Eren offered, holding out his hand while glancing at the young man's bare feet.
Priam shook the outstretched hand. Considering the quality of the clothes, Priam was willing to pay the asking price.
"Deal. But I want the clothes to fit and we'll forget about the shoes. By the way, my na is Priam." He had grown accustod to going without shoes. Even as a boy, he'd gambol through the dunes barefoot. Now that the soles of his feet were as tough as the leather of a mutant boar, why bother putting on shoes? Unless I have to chase soone into a sewer... Don't raise the flag Priam!
Eren led Priam into the back room, where a sewing room awaited him. He began to expertly asure the young man. Priam could have sworn the man had been doing this all his life.
"Were you a seamster or tailor before all this?" he asked, pointing to their surroundings.
"Not at all. I was a computer engineer," Eren replied. Priam noticed that the man was writing down his asurents. He must not have boosted his mory much.
"A radical change in profession. How did it happen?"
"The Tutorial happened."
After a few seconds of silence, Eren spoke again.
"Sorry. Thinking back to my life before is hard. Let's say our civilization is no longer advanced enough to need . So factions still have computers, but they are useless without the internet. I went through the Tutorial with my son. I didn't want to die and leave him alone so I chose the peaceful version. The System analyzed and offered several jobs. My grandmother had taught to sew when I was a little boy and I like to work with my hands. I chose that specialty, the System gave so useful skills, and here I am."
"You're courageous to have changed jobs and adapted so quickly," Priam said.
Eren let out a mirthless laugh. "Do I have a choice? My son's counting on , and I hope to find my family. If I don't do this job, we'll be sold to a faction. Everyone in this Do is in the sa boat. So have cracked and run away from reality by hiding in houses, but most are trying to survive. n adapt quickly, and the Tutorial has helped us with that..."
Priam thought back to his racial talent. Perhaps [Humanity adapts] was doing more than just boosting his skills...
With the asurents taken, Eren headed for a collection of hoodies.
"A favorite color?"
"Orange. No, black. I an, a little of both?"
The craftsman smiled, "A little of both then." He unhooked a black hoodie, grabbed an orange bobbin, a black bobbin, and so needles before sitting down.
"I need a few minutes. The System's skills allow to do this kind of work quickly. How about you?"
"?"
"You asked to tell you my life story. You too."
"..." Priam wasn't sure what to say. The truth was impossible, but lying was a bad habit. He chose a compromise.
"I passed my Tutorial as a fighter. I was at the beach right before the Tutorial started, so I had a dungeon with that the. There were nineteen of us. There was a problem right from the start. A silly idea ca up and... Anyway, I was the only one who made it through. Then I tried to survive in this new world. I didn't do very well. I an, I'm here today, so I guess it could be worse. In any case, I realized a while ago that surviving was not enough. So I try to live while being true to myself. Basically, I want to be free while respecting certain principles. It's not easy because this world is ruthless. But I feel like I'm on the right track," Priam smiled.
Eren nodded. Both n knew they were speaking as much for themselves as for each other. The Tutorial was too fresh in both their minds to have recovered. Everything had changed and it was taking the man a while to get used to it again.
After a minute of silence, Priam pointed to all the tools and materials in the workshop.
"If it's not too intimate... How did you accumulate so much material in such a short ti? Every fifth building is now a store and I find that a little strange. Humanity shouldn't have this many resources. Is this provided by the System?"
Eren sneered. "The System didn't even provide with toilet paper during the Tutorial and you think they would give all this? No, it's... a loan," he replied with a sigh.
"From whom?"
"From a kingdom in my new world. After the Tutorial, the System transported and my son in the middle of a field. I barely had ti to panic before a ship arrived. So kind of helicopter without a propeller. Aliens picked us up and escorted us to a city." As he spoke, Eren worked with a dexterity that made Priam envious. His Dexterity was superior, but Eren's skills gave him terrifying speed and precision when he was using a needle.
"One of these aliens had a translation skill and questioned us. They offered us a deal upon understanding that we were a newly integrated civilization. They would sponsor us with everything you see here and an education for my son. I tried to negotiate for them to find my wife, but they told it was impossible. She's probably in another world... and in another do."
Priam could feel the pain in the tailor's voice, but he needed answers. If every craftsman was sponsored by an alien faction, he needed to know the terms of the contract. How screwed up is humanity?
"And in exchange?"
"In exchange, I'm under exclusive contract for half a century. Apparently, with the increase in Vitality, it's not a big deal. I didn't have much of a choice anyway. I can get that duration down by improving myself or by being useful..."
"By being useful?"
Eren pointed to his workshop. "You think I paid the System to transport all this here? Going from one do to another costs ten cores like yours. Per person. The dos are a few dozen kiloters apart? A few hundred? The moon isn't that big, so that's a maximum. Can you imagine if I had to pay to cross half the Universe? The entire planet of the aliens who ripped off wouldn't be enough to pay for the trip..."
Priam was beginning to understand.
"You an to tell we can find resources from all over the Universe here? So materials common in one area must be rare in others. A rare resource is more expensive. To buy a herb here for a pittance and then sell it on the other side of the Universe for a thousand tis its price..." Priam's eyes began to glaze over. If he was right, the Reunion was an opportunity for rchants above all else. Speculating on a product could make you very rich...
"Exactly. But you're not the first person to think about it, boy. And vendors aren't dumb. Ultimately, only certain rchants with advanced skills can profit from all this. Forr traders and excellent rchants will beco very rich. But the Reunion is indeed an opportunity for everyone, humans and aliens included. That's why so many factions are investing so heavily in humanity. They are the real winners."
Eren stood up, his work in hand. "I did what was required of , I traded one stock of goods for another. The aliens who invested in will be pleased. Thanks to this, I can feed my son. Here, try this."
Priam quickly undressed before putting on a black and orange hoodie. This one fitted perfectly without hindering his movents.
"It's perfect."
"Fine. I'll do the pants. Go take a shower while you're at it. You're ssing up my work here."
Priam nodded, grateful. He handed Eren two cores and thanked him. A few minutes later, he was wearing his new clothes.
"Thank you, that's perfect. I had one last question. I have so spider silk and I think it's solid. Could you potentially make an outfit using it?"
Priam had pulled out two spider glands. One was from Elysium and the second from a Baron. Eren quickly looked at the two glands before returning them to Priam.
"Impossible. Well, not impossible but the result will be very disappointing. Silk is not my specialty and in all honesty... My skills arent good enough for silk of this quality. There arent many craftsn who can handle this. You'll need a master who was already a great tailor before the Tutorial."
"Do you know anyone like that?"
"Freelance? None. Attached to a faction... Like your Colosseum, we crafters have a ranking. The top ten tailors are all sponsored, if you know what I an..."
"They don't work for anyone outside their faction."
"That's right. Sorry Priam."
Priam sighed. He wasn't surprised. A master needed a faction behind him to protect him. Without one, any knuckle-cutter could force him to work like a slave. Priam didn't have a faction behind him, and that was likely to continue. But if he wouldn't make masters work for free, he wasn't against forcing their hand a little. He needed to stay on top of his ga, and quality equipnt was necessary.
"Who's the best tailor?"
Eren stared at him for a few seconds.
"Master Boss. He is affiliated with the Lotus Sect. But he's in another do."
"Which one?" Priam planned to explore other dos as soon as he got past his tribulation. Why not start with a visit to Master Boss?
"Viracocha."
Priam smiled. Sotis fate had a way of doing things right. After thanking Eren, he headed for the Colosseum. It was ti to show everyone who was the first.
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