I Don't Need To Log Out

There were no politicians in Trion. While some families were influential due to their wealth from administrative roles, there was no system akin to the British peerage. Wealth could be passed down to kin, but not power. Every administrator was chosen based solely on their ability to perform the job.

Although this system generally worked in Trion's favor, not everyone appreciated it. Children without any notable skills of their own often wished to inherit their parents' positions, and many parents were reluctant to relinquish their authority.

-----

Arlon headed to the only inn in the town. Inside, the place was bustling with activity—people were drinking, laughing, and chatting in lively clusters.

He made his way to the counter, where a bald Beastman was in the middle of a conversation with another customer. Arlon didn't want to care about the man's baldness but when a hairy dog Beastman didn't have hair at some place on their body, it would draw attention.

"Hi. Do you have any spare rooms?" Arlon asked directly.

The man froze, his expression turning to surprise, and a hush spread through the area around him. Conversations nearby died down, and heads turned to glance at Arlon.

He was puzzled by the sudden attention but dismissed it, assuming they were simply curious about a new face. However, Arlon overlooked an important detail: Trion was currently under strict instructions. Before the saviors arrived and the game began, citizens had been told to stay near their homes unless absolutely necessary.

This policy meant that most inns were typically empty as players logged out at fixed times. Innkeepers had even been compensated for potential losses, though most inns operated more like pubs or restaurants and hadn't suffered much.

With the players logged out for now, the townsfolk quickly reached a conclusion: Arlon wasn't a player. They couldn't know Arlon didn't need to log out.

So they thought the only possible explanation. This man was someone important, probably an administrator coming from Kelta.

Unbeknownst to Arlon, there was already an administrator staying at this inn. She had come here to ensure everything remained under control after the saviors appeared last week.

The people nearby exchanged uneasy glances. Having this many administrators in one place was never a good sign—it often meant trouble. The whispers began, speculating about a possible conflict brewing near Oceina. Could there be a war coming to their peaceful town?

Sensing the tension, the bald man at the counter adjusted his demeanor, treating Arlon with a cautious respect.

"Yes, sir. Please come with me. You can choose any room upstairs," he said, his tone deferential.

Arlon blinked, momentarily taken aback. This wasn't how innkeepers usually treated him—or anyone else, for that matter. Still, he kept his composure.

"No need for that. Just give me a room with a window," he replied, brushing off the man's eagerness.

The innkeeper nodded hastily, fetching a set of keys. He handed them over with directions, ensuring Arlon's room was far from the one occupied by the other administrator. Everyone knew administrators sometimes clashed, and such encounters could escalate into something far worse than a simple skirmish with monsters.

As Arlon climbed the stairs, he encountered a woman descending from the upper floor. She had a human-like appearance, prompting Arlon to assume she was a Magus. After all, in Trion, the Magus race was the only one resembling humans. That was excluding Elves, of course.

Arlon's mind drifted briefly to the magic vessels he had obtained from Agema. Thanks to them, other Maguses would sense him as one of their own. There was no need for the lies he had used when dealing with Charon.

The woman, dressed in a crimson robe, had an unassuming presence, her appearance average enough to blend seamlessly into any crowd. Arlon acknowledged her with a polite nod as they passed.

She returned the gesture, her expression neutral.

Without sparing her another thought, Arlon continued to his room. Once there, he set aside his equipment, lay down on the bed, and drifted into a deep sleep.

---

The morning air in Oceina was crisp with the faint smell of salt from the nearby sea. As Arlon walked through the town, he couldn't help but notice the whispers following him wherever he went. It seemed everyone had something to say about the mysterious stranger who had arrived the previous night. Still, he decided to ignore the buzz for now and instead focused on his goal.

His destination was a merchant's shop Charon suggested. The old man had mentioned that he had a friend in Oceina named Edrich and Arlon might find it useful to talk to.

When Arlon finally reached the shop he paused for a moment to check it. Unlike Charon's cramped potion shop, this was an impressive establishment. Its exterior walls were donned with intricate carvings. It was clearly designed to attract the rich. The shop gave an air of prosperity, which felt slightly at odds with the humble fishing town surrounding it.

Inside, Arlon spotted a man that fit Charon's description: bald, heavyset, and with an air of confidence that only a seasoned merchant could possess. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Is baldness a fashion trend in Oceina?

Approaching him, Arlon took a blind hit and asked, "Hi, are you Mr. Edrich?"

The man's face lit up. "Ah! You must be Charon's friend. Yes, I am. Please call me Edrich."

Arlon blinked, caught off guard. There was no way Edrich could know who he was. Things like communication crystals existed, but Charon hadn't exactly been the most forthcoming person so he wouldn't talk too much on the phone, or the communication crystal in this case.

Deciding to probe, Arlon asked, "How did you know it was me? I don't believe we have met before, and honestly, I wouldn't say Charon and I are friends. He's always distant. I doubt he even bothered describing my appearance to you."

Edrich let out a hearty laugh. "Haha! Don't let Charon fool you. That old coot just likes to act cold. Deep down, he probably cares more than he lets on. As for how I knew it was you," He leaned forward slightly with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I've been a merchant since I was a little child. Let me have a few secrets, kid!"

Despite the humor, Arlon could tell there was truth in Edrich's words. The man's instincts were sharp. They were probably honed by years of observation and trade. What Edrich didn't mention was how easy Arlon had been to identify.

For one, Arlon's attire and demeanor screamed "foreigner". Oceina wasn't a large town, and Edrich made it his business to know everyone worth knowing. And he had a good memory with faces, so even if he didn't know someone personally, he knew their faces. A newcomer would stand out immediately, especially since there had been talk of two strangers arriving the previous day: a man and a woman, separately, and both staying at the inn.

Merchants rarely stayed in inns since they preferred to camp outside towns near their wagons. And Arlon's lack of expensive attire ruled out the possibility of him being a wealthy traveler. Adding all this up, Edrich had no doubt this was the "friend" Charon had mentioned.

Edrich gestured to Arlon with a knowing grin. "So, what brings you to my shop? Just passing through, or are you here on business?"

Arlon glanced around the shop as Edrich's words hung in the air. The interior was just as grand as the exterior. There were a lot of items like polished trinkets, shimmering fabrics, rare potions, and even a few weapons and armor pieces that looked like they belonged to a collector rather than an adventurer.

These weapons and armor were probably just for show. Rich people would love to wear them to show off even though they didn't provide real defense.

Edrich observed Arlon's wandering eyes and grinned. "Quite the setup, huh? Everything you see here, I've either traded for or bartered over. This isn't just a shop, kid—it's a gallery of opportunities."

Arlon was impressed. "It's more refined than I expected. Charon didn't mention you were running such a... I don't know how to describe it, so let's say successful place."

"Ah! Well, that's Charon for you!" Edrich said with a shrug. "He's got his mind wrapped up in his little alchemy world. He probably thinks I'm still haggling for fish down by the docks!" He chuckled.

The merchant leaned forward. Arlon could see that his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "So, what brings you here? I doubt you've come to marvel at my fine establishment. Charon must've sent you for a reason." He was obviously born with a merchant's hunger for information.

Arlon hesitated for a moment. He hadn't thought too deeply about what he wanted from Edrich, but this seemed like a good opportunity to gather information. "Charon mentioned you might be able to help me. I'm new to Oceina and could use some guidance and maybe even some supplies."

Edrich stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Guidance, huh? Well, you've come to the right man. Oceina's a fine little town, but one thing I learned as a merchant is nothing can be too good and there is always a downside. Here, the people are cautious by nature. Especially since the saviors came around. They stick to their routines, and outsiders like you... well, they tend to draw attention."

"I've noticed," Arlon muttered. He recalled the whispers that followed him wherever he went.

Edrich chuckled again. "Don't take it personally. They're just trying to figure out who you are and whether you're a threat to them. Now, as for supplies," He gestured to a corner of the shop filled with practical adventuring gear. "I've got potions, rations, tools, whatever you might need. Also, since Charon sent you, I'll give you a discount. What're you looking for?"

Arlon scanned the goods. A small case of neatly labeled potions caught his eye. But he decided it wasn't the time yet. He would buy anything he might need when leaving the town. For now, he asked:

"Before I buy anything, what can you tell me about Oceina? Anything unusual I should know?"

Edrich raised an eyebrow and his demeanor shifted slightly. "Unusual? Well, that depends on what you mean. There's been talk of strange occurrences near the cliffs lately like lights in the sky and eerie noises at night. Some folks say it's just the saviors causing a ruckus, but the saviors aren't here at night. Others think it's something worse. Well, you know. These kinds of conspiracies are always rumored in towns." He leaned in conspiratorially. "And then there's the woman who arrived yesterday. She's staying at the same inn as you, isn't she?"

Arlon stiffened, remembering the Magus he'd encountered on the stairs. "You know about her?"

"Of course I do. It's my job to know. She's an administrator, isn't she? But what she's administrating, no one seems to know. And trust me, that's unusual. Administrators rarely leave their regions without good reason."