First Protagonist

I followed the First Protagonist everywhere he went.

Whenever I felt like I hadn’t burned out my eyes enough, I activated Mana Vision and stared at the sun that was his body.

I made mental notes after seeing each place he stopped at, but eventually, the journey sort of ended, and I was left with one conclusion—

“He’s so ordinary,” I muttered, watching him take a customer’s order. “Is this really the character who did so many amazing things?”

He stood at my table here in the outdoor patio with a cheerful posture, apron tied over a soft, farmhand-style tunic. His hair was a tousled brown, the kind that looked like it had been air-dried by the harsh steam of a pipe working too hard. A warm, honest face, slightly tanned. Just enough muscle on his frame to suggest manual labor, but not enough to make anyone nervous in a dark alley. Even his voice was easygoing—like he was someone you’d trust to walk your dog or water your garden.

I half expected him to pull out a watering can from his pocket.

He jotted down my order with a smile and a nod, then left to deliver it to the kitchen.

“Even when I did odd jobs in the game, I felt cooler than this guy.”

I glanced around the restaurant. We were in the upper-middle layer—the Saint Fleur layer. I had come here with Elsbeth last time, but this time, I had more time and patience to observe everything else and not the walls that separated us from the nobles.

The walls of the establishments along this street were polished brick and heavily treated wood, rather than the soot-streaked stone and rusted piping I was used to. The light came from pearlglass globes instead of sputtering torches. Tables were spaced far enough apart that you didn’t have to hear every breath of your neighbor.

Restaurants were not a thing in Saint Giselle. Food stalls were. Or maybe a small spot running out of someone's house.

More importantly, the clientele of Saint Fleur was the city’s bureaucratic muscle: record-keepers, tax collectors, trade officials, and regulators. There were a few merchants who worked in Saint Giselle, too.

If I had to describe it, Saint Giselle was the layer of the trades and the crafts, and Saint Fleur was the layer of producers, providers, and those who ensured production and provision continued.

The professionals here were the ones most likely to be granted entry into the Noble Layers for work—they would be the ones most likely to rise in status, too.

That was why there were more amenities here. The nobility actually came down to this layer, unlike the ones below. Probably because they felt safer here among people they knew. The only place that had cleaner air was above us. Guard presence here was way more noticeable.

Across the busy street, clearly visible through the stained-glass windows, stood the sprawling hall of the Merchants and Salvagers Guild. The exterior was sleek but brutal: all geometric reliefs and reinforced archways, built like a statement of profit turned into a fortress. In some ways, it looked like the stronghold of a midboss. The guild’s presence probably also contributed to why this section of Saint Fleur was so dramatically different.

And every few minutes, I’d catch the First Protagonist sneaking glances toward it.

He tried to be subtle—setting down a cup and turning his head just a touch too long—but it was obvious. His eyes always drifted back to that building. Like it was calling him. Did he dream of being greater than a waiter? I wonder what got him to sign up with the guards.

I exhaled and leaned back in my seat.

“A boy with a dream, I guess…”

“Tim?”

I blinked and turned to the side.

Meredi stood just a few short steps away, waving with a light smile on her face—and wearing a sleeveless black leather jacket that clung to her torso. It layered over her usual fitted tank, the one that already seemed in constant struggle against her outrageous chest. The jacket, meanwhile, gave the whole look a kind of don’t mess with me unless you like your teeth shaken loose vibe.

God.

She looked like she belonged to a biker gang that only worked out and bench-pressed debt collectors for fun. And I loved it.

Oh no no no.
Why was this doing something to me? I would have paid extra to unlock an outfit like this for her.

She stepped closer. “Hello? Tim? Did you drink something funny again?”

Apparently, I’d been gushing silently while just staring at her.

I cleared my throat, straightened. “Uh—hey. Sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

“You looked deep in thought. Were you thinking about potions?”

“Thinking more about magic and how funny life is,” I muttered. “What brings you here?”

“Helping with some repair work over at the guild hall.” She thumbed over her shoulder toward that menacing building across the street. “They called me in for a couple busted pressure lines and a gear system with bad teeth.”

My eyebrows lifted. “You do work for the Merchants and Salvagers Guild?”

“Off and on,” she said casually. “I’m on good terms with the guildmaster. This district’s got some of the trickier old infrastructure, so I show up here a few times a month for work.”

“Want to sit?” I asked, motioning to the other side of the table.

“Sure.” She took a seat across from me, the leather of her jacket squeaking faintly as she relaxed. “Place always smells good. Bit fancy for you though, isn’t it?”

“I’m branching out,” I said dryly. “Figured I’d take a break in civilization before returning to the soot-covered underworld I call home.”

She laughed. “It’s not that bad, but it’s nice to see you outside.”

I looked out, beyond the guild hall and the buildings, to where the looming wall rose, marking the border between this layer and the Noble Layers above. What a humbling reminder, those walls. Those things could very well tilt and crush us if someone up there decided we weren’t useful anymore. What a terrifying thought.

“You ever been up there?” I asked.

Meredi turned her head to look. “Yeah. A few times. Had to work on some exotic old-world contraptions. Delicate stuff. Brass and crystal gears, some kind of forgotten tech. Honestly, you’d be able to understand the composition of the materials more than I could.”

“What was it like? The layers themselves, I mean.”

She smiled faintly. “One time, the haze had cleared just enough that I could see the blue sky. Actual blue. Not the usual sickly amber glare we get lucky enough to see in spots of Saint Giselle. And the walls… they had murals.”

“Murals?”

“Of animals,” she said, eyes brightening. “Not like the ones in picture books. Not cartoony or stylized. They looked real. Lifelike. They were the kind of thing that makes you think they were painted by someone who’d actually seen those creatures.” Meredi chuckled. “The images of goats and chickens were very good too.”

It wasn’t hard to imagine, but I knew that I had an unfair advantage. I wondered if it was actually as great as Meredi described.

Before I could lose myself in thought, the First Protagonist returned, smiling brightly as he placed my plate in front of me—a steaming bowl of something savory and creamy, with bread on the side.

Meredi peeked over and nodded in approval. “That looks good. Can I order a Bear’s Paw shake?”

The protagonist blinked. “Of course. One moment.” He gave a short bow and trotted off again.

“A Bear’s Paw shake?” I repeated, amused.

She nodded. “It’s good for my body.”

I chuckled. “Otlan said the same.. I should’ve asked you for a supplement list. You’re like… living proof of muscle nutrition—what was I thinking not starting with you, the goddess of muscles?”

She leaned back, smug and a little pinker. “Anything with Bear’s Paw in it is a good start. But I believe in vegetables too. Never skip the legumes. They’ll make you as hardy as they are.”

“All that stew you cook makes a lot more sense now.”

“And the most important part,” she added, pointing a thumb to herself, “is strength training.”

“Yeah, yeah, I figured—wait, are you flexing?”

“I want to inspire you.” She grinned. “Speaking of, want to come train with me? The guild’s got a whole training hall. I’m a member, so I can bring a guest.”

I blinked. “You’re part of the guild?”

“Mmhm.” She sipped from the water cup the waiter had left. “Been a member for years. Comes with benefits. And right now, I’m offering you one. C’mon. Little sweat, little soreness, build some real character.”

I glanced at the protagonist, then back at her. I hadn’t planned anything else for today.

“Yeah,” I said, pushing back my chair. “Why not? Some self-improvement might do me good. We can go after you get your shake.”

“And your meal,” she said with a smile.

I looked down. “Oh right. I forgot.”

She giggled. “How could you forget something that smells so tasty?”

I took my first bite. “You just take up all my attention when you come by, and there’s nothing I can do about that,” I nonchalantly replied.

When I glanced at Meredi, she was playing with her hair,

“I can’t be that distracting,” she said, laughing it off.

“Ahh, if only you knew,” I lamented, purposefully breadcrumbing and wishing she would pick up on it.