As they rode in, seeing the various story buildings, Kenneth said to Yamamoto with a grin, "Welcome to Mashlow."
The city was one of the jewels of the kingdom, and the headquarters of the Adventurers' Guild in the south parts.
Yamamoto took a quick look about, seeing how much the same it was with what he had in memory, there really was no cause for excitement.
The moment they came to a stop, everyone dislodged and got to their own thing, and the youngman with the twin swords also disappeared into the crowds before anyone could really spot him.
Kenneth clapped Yamamoto on the shoulder, "come on. Let's find you an Inn, sell our haul, and get you properly registered. Your new life as an adventurer might just officially start today." He said.
"Yeah, that'll be good." Yamamoto said.
Looking at Kenneth though, he seemed to have another idea. "Listen, why don't you stay with me at the Iron Vanguard Guild lodging? I've got a two-person room space, and my roommate left on a long-term contract last month. There's plenty of space, and it's free for guild members—well, technically you're not a member, but I can vouch for you as a guest."
Listening to all of it, Yamamoto couldn't help but smell the trap lying in wait. This was just a ploy to get him to join the guild… he thought to himself.
Nevertheless, it was a generous offer, and Yamamoto could even see the genuine warmth in Kenneth's eyes—the young warrior had clearly taken a liking to him, saw him as a friend or at least a promising ally.
But Yamamoto shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, really, but I'd rather find my own place." He said.
"Are you sure? Guild lodging is clean, safe, and right in the Adventurer's Quarter. Plus it's free, which—"
"I'm sure," Yamamoto said firmly but kindly. "I don't want to impose. And honestly, I prefer having my own space."
That was partly true, anyway. The real reason however, ran deeper.
The trap aside, Yamamoto had learned a harsh lesson in his old life about accepting too much help, about becoming dependent on others' generosity. People remembered favors. They kept tallies, even unconsciously, and years down the line, someone might say, "Well, I gave you a place to stay when you had nothing. I helped develop you. You owe me."
That was one of the worse things to hear! He didn't want to build that kind of history!
Kenneth looked disappointed but didn't push further. "Alright, I understand. How about this—meet me tomorrow morning at the Adventurer's Guild headquarters? I'll help you get registered, and then we can sell our haul together. The main building is hard to miss—biggest structure in the Adventurer's Quarter, has a bronze statue of a dragon out front."
"What time?"
"Nine? That'll give us the full day to handle business."
Yamamoto nodded. "Alright, I'll be there."
They parted ways at a major intersection, Kenneth heading north toward the guild district, Yamamoto wandering into the city proper to find lodging.
Mashlow was overwhelming after the quiet simplicity of the towns. The streets were packed with people—merchants haggling, laborers hauling goods, children weaving through the crowds, street performers competing for attention and coin. The buildings rose three and four stories high, their upper floors jutting out over the streets and casting the cobblestones in shadow. It was truly something else to feel the life in person.
Signs advertised everything imaginable: blacksmiths, tailors, apothecaries, brothels, taverns, inns, fortune tellers, scribes, money changers. The sheer density of commerce was staggering.
Yamamoto for one could not help but imagine a brothel experience. As one who was approaching Sage level, it was tempting, but ultimately, he persevered.
After walking for a while, he found a suitable Inn, a three-story establishment that looked clean and well-maintained without being ostentatious. The common room was busy but not rowdy, filled with what looked like traveling merchants and skilled tradespeople rather than, well, locals.
The innkeeper was a woman in her fifties with sharp eyes and an efficient manner. "Two silver for a room, includes breakfast and dinner. Bath access is one silver extra."
"I'll take a room for tonight," Yamamoto said, handing over the coins. "With bath access."
The woman counted the coins quickly, nodded, and handed him a key. "Room seven, second floor. Dinner's served at sunset. Bath house is out back—tell the attendant I sent you."
Yamamoto went to his room, and looking at the state of it, it certainly was worth the coin.
While settling down, he thought about the different opportunities he could take advantage of in secret dungeons and hidden quests, even quests that were not hidden per se, but this was no longer a game world, so he could certainly still profit from them, Cherry-pick the best opportunities, maximize his gains, and avoid wasting time.
Once he was strong enough—truly strong, not just "decent for his level"—he'd make his way to Brightfall and start the main story quests.
That thought made him pause, the main story quests.
In Lost World Online, the main story had been designed to involve the entire server simultaneously, massive, world-spanning questlines that required thousands of players working together—or against each other—to progress. They'd been epic in scope: wars between kingdoms, invasions by demon armies, ancient evils awakening, political upheavals that reshaped the entire game world.
The beauty of the system was that it didn't matter what level you were. A level 10 player could participate in the same main story event as a level 50 player—they'd just have different roles, different tasks appropriate to their strength. The level 10 might be running supplies or defending a wall, while the level 50 was assassinating enemy generals or fighting boss monsters.
Some main story quests did have level requirements for specific aspects or positions—you couldn't lead a strike team if you were level 15, for instance, but everyone could contribute something.
It had been one of the game's most praised features, inclusivity without sacrificing challenge or meaningful contribution.
But here, in this world, Yamamoto was the only player. There was no server, no community of thousands, just him.
Which meant he could take the main story at his own pace. No rush, no pressure to keep up with other players or fear of missing limited-time events.
He could prepare properly, build his strength, and when he finally engaged with the main story, he'd do it on his terms.
If only this, it was a huge gain.