Kael didn't look impressed by my new "mentor." She stood there with her wrench over her shoulder, staring at Lord Kuro as he groomed himself on a pile of scrap.
"So," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "My investment is now taking advice from a stray cat who thinks he's a king. Great. My profit margins are literally disappearing."
"I am no stray, girl," Kuro hissed, his fur bristling. "I am the architect of the Deep. Now, hush. The human is about to learn why being 'Trash' is the greatest lie the Archons ever told."
I sat cross-legged on the cold floor of the Pit's backrooms. "Okay, Kuro. I'm listening. How do I beat a guy who sits on me like a piece of furniture?"
Kuro hopped onto a rusted barrel in front of me.
Leveling isn't just about power?" I asked, looking at my bruised hands.
"Anything can be experience, human," Kuro said, his tail flicking with a cunning rhythm. "A trade, a secret, a transformation. The Archons want you to think it's all about fighting because they own the arenas. But a Void grows by filling itself with the world."
Kael crossed her arms. "Fine. If you're leaving the Pit, you're leaving my 'investment' zone. But don't think you're getting out of that Sword of Nartha deal."
"We will return for your metal, girl," Kuro purred. "But first... we have to change his look. You know, looks sell. And right now, he looks like something a stray dog wouldn't even sniff."
"Hey!" I protested, looking down at my dirt-stained school blazer. Okay, he had a point. I looked like a mess.
Kuro led me away from the Pit and deeper into the neon-lit maze of the Lower Districts. We stopped in front of a shop that looked like it was made of shifting shadows and glass. The sign above the door didn't have words, just an icon of a needle and thread made of light.
"Inside," Kuro commanded.
The shop was silent, filled with mannequins that didn't have faces, wearing clothes that seemed to move on their own. A tall, slender being with six fingers on each hand emerged from the back.
"A makeover for the Null?" the shopkeeper whispered, his voice like rustling silk.
"The best you have for someone who doesn't exist," Kuro replied.
I was shoved behind a curtain. For the next hour, I felt needles of light pricking my skin and fabric that felt like cold water wrapping around my body. When I finally stepped out, I didn't recognize the person in the mirror.
I wasn't wearing a school uniform anymore. I was wearing a high-collared, sleeveless tunic made of a matte-black material that seemed to absorb the shop's light. Over it was a light, hooded coat with silver linings that flickered when I moved. My old sneakers were replaced by boots that felt weightless but solid as stone.
"Better," Kuro said, walking around me. "Now you don't look like a victim. You look like a mystery."
I looked at my reflection. My [TRASH] bar was still there, floating above my head, but against the dark, sharp clothes, it looked less like a label and more like a dare.
"So, Lord Kuro," I said, feeling a strange new confidence. "Where does a 'mystery' go to get his first real level?"
"We leave the Lower Districts," Kuro said, his eyes glowing gold. "We go to the Gray Fringe. It's the border between the Star-Floors and the waste. That's where your first teammate is waiting—and they don't even know it yet."
I turned to Kael, who was watching from the doorway of the shop. She looked at my new clothes and sighed. "You actually look like someone now, Fuen. Don't go getting yourself killed. I still need that sword."
"I'll be back, Kael," I promised.
With the cat on my shoulder and a new weight in my step, I walked out of the shop and toward the edge of the city. The adventure was finally starting.