Bob surfaced from the murk of unconsciousness. He lay sprawled across something barely qualifying as a bed. It was really a sad sandwich of warped planks and leather off-cuts. Even a dungeon cot would have been a five-star upgrade.

  He yawned wide and shifted. The whole set-up wailed, joints protesting their current durability scores. When he tried to lever himself upright, something heavy clanked.

  What the-?

  Memory rebooted: His arm. Or, more accurately, the contraption he’d commissioned at Mikoko’s stall.

  To fund it, he thought about using the spoils belonging to Jem, Caleb, Axe-Dad and Twitchy. Instead, a fit of conscience made him mail their loot. In return he got one rambling apology, two thank-you’s, and three friend requests. The apology came from Twitchy; maybe her calmer personality shard had tagged in momentarily. Axe-Dad ghosted him completely.

  That still left eleven shiny orbs of his own, and of course Bob had treated them like casino chips: Six orbs became 3256c through random rolls

  Three stall-upgrades of the crafter ran a cost of 500c+1000c+1500c. With his pocket-change of 174c that had left him with 430c for buying back mats at Iron-Jaws. The merchant charged a premium. 30c to spare.

  [Echuu] Bob.. All that math-grumbling. Don’t you care about alienating your fan-base?

  Shh!

  Lynn insisted that Bob drank her nap-time-tea while the ante-crew installed his new arm; charged him 15c for the medicinal brew. He had turned off like a lightswitch. Much needed. Worth every penny.

  Now, recharged and post-operation, a mechanical thing was bolted to his body, stretching onto his left shoulder. Ticking gears peeked through the seams of haphazardly attached plating. It was an abomination of spare parts.

  Bob flexed instinctively. The fingers curled inward, stiff, creaking. Okay. He lifted his metal limb high and gave it another test. Whirrs, clicks, stiff servos. Functional but barely. He wouldn’t be pulling off any frame-perfect moves with this thing.

  Mikoko came out of nowhere, examining his arm way too closely for comfort. "Mmmhh. Oh! Ahah? So that’s how.. WOW!" She jolted upright, eyes gleaming with manic enthusiasm. “YOU’RE NOT DEAD, SIR!" Eyes beamed at him like he had aced her final exam and cured a terminal illness at the same time.

  Bob gave a stiff thumbs up with his new limb. It clicked ominously. "You promised me best-of-realm stuff. How did I end up with this crappy iteration?"

  Mikoko clasped her hands together. "Hey! Our little pocket-realm only houses one comparable item: a jaw. I’d say your arm is the clear winner." She smiled, sparks in her eyes.

  “Is that so? We will have to do some more upgrading then.” Bob stated.

  Mikoko sprang in a cheer: “BOB GETS IT!”

  [Echuu] Hah! She got one on you.

  Lynn had appeared and hovered at Bob’s side watching their exchange. “He still needs to rest Mikoko. I’ll let you know when the patient is cleared.” She drew a chilled, damp cloth and pressed it against his forehead. “He’s stubborn so he won’t show it. But his temperature is still high.”

  Mikoko’s enthusiasm was overshadowed by the concern now scrawled across her face. The gleam in her eyes wasn’t just craftsmanship pride, it was the razor-thin edge of fear, masked behind her usual over-the-top energy.

  “Okay, okay! I know this looks bad, but trust the process, sir! This is peak engineering! Soon you will probably want another limb replaced just for funsies and power-flexing.” Her voice wavered slightly, betraying her nerves.

  Iron Jaw stepped close, arms crossed. His own contribution to Bob’s ‘enhancement’ had been significant: he had torn out one of the mechanical components from his own jaw plating, offering it up without hesitation. Now, however, he was paying for it.

  He muttered something unintelligible, his voice coming out a dull rasp. “Grp grrr krggh.”

  Mikoko winced. “You can’t talk yet!” She waved a tiny screwdriver at him. “I swear I’ll get you fixed up soon.”

  The merchant did not look convinced. He did a court nod at Yui as she approached. Her posture was rigid, silver eyes unreadable. Not counting Debt Keeper, she had spoken the least since Bob collapsed from his tea. She wasn’t the type to waste words.

  Bob’s mind was still catching up. The amulet around his neck should have prevented disease, counting infection from the operation. Yet, Lynn talked of fevers.

  Then Yui said: "Mikoko’s cuts went deep." Her tone calm but edged with something contemplative, "Without a strong consciouness to fend it off, that amulet of yours latched on and didn’t let go. It fed on your lifeforce, siphoning toward its own end." Her fingers traced slow circles in the air. "It kept you in a loop. Locked on the thinest line between recovery and death. Seven days passed."

  Bob ran a hand through his hair. "Seven.. Damn. I was a battery." He paused. “A very inefficient one."

  Yui gave a small, knowing nod. "It is a fitting description.” She glanced at Lynn. “If it wasn’t for our healer here, you might not have recovered. Your amulet - ” Yui turned and walked to her stall. “It changed with you.”

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  Bob grabbed Mandi-Bling, the jade colour now fully crimson. ‘Equipment.’

  [Null-Stone (Crimson), Unique, Set-Item]

  Granted Immunity: Bleed

  Damage Resistance, physical: 10.

  The amulet pulsed faintly in his grip. Satiated until further notice. Oh Nully, you beautiful piece of OP jewelry.

  Lynn huffed but smiled, shaking her head. She opened a jar and let out a pungent smell like moldy cheese and vinegar. She scooped up a full wooden spoon. “Here, eat something. It’ll help.”

  Bob eyed the slimy, watery stew like it was a debuff in liquid form. “What’s that supposed to do? Finish off my immune system?”

  Lynn laughed softly, still trying to coax the spoon toward his mouth. “It’s just stew, Bob.”

  “In this place ‘just stew’ still has a fifteen percent chance to sprout legs and run away.”

  Mikoko still hadn’t left the scene. Oblivious to the moment she leaned in excitedly. “Once you’ve gobbled that up and tested my creation in some real fights.. Then I have so many ideas! Reinforced plating! Hidden compartments! Maybe even-”

  “Gimme a second to use the thing before we turn it into a Swiss-Army, yeah?” Bob chuckled at his own joke.

  Meanwhile, Iron Jaw had settled into his usual spot, rummaging through wares, occasionally producing deep, guttural sounds that couldn’t qualify as words. Bib, ever the quiet enigma, had been skittering back and forth, dropping random trinkets near Bob’s bed. A bent nail here, a rusted coin there.

  [Echuu] Bib wants to feed you salvage for breakfast. Such a considerate little scavenger!

  Bob rolled his eyes. “Exactly what I need - a side of scrap metal.” A text box popped up again, cheeky as ever.

  [Echuu] Still low on iron?

  Bob leaned back with a sigh. This was his recovery party. A mismatched collection of the weirdest, roughest, and somehow most genuine characters he could’ve hoped to meet in a place like this.

  Mikoko and the slimes drifted away one by one, leaving only Lynn. Her hands were steady whenever she attended to his fever.

  “You rooted for me to pull through, huh?” he muttered, attempting an easy smirk.

  Lynn swallowed hard. "I thought-" She shook her head, exhaling shakily. “It was close.”

  Bob shifted uncomfortably, resisting the urge to shrug it off. Normally, this was where he’d toss in some snark. Something to lighten the mood, push past the weight in her voice. But the look on her face made the words stick in his throat. She wasn’t just worried. She had been scared.

  He coughed to clear the blockage. "Good thing I’m built different." He inspected his arm. "Literally."

  Lynn huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she slapped him lightly with the cloth she carried. "Idiot."

  Silence stretched between them, not awkward, but heavier than either wanted to acknowledge.

  Then, Lynn broke it. “You woke up just in time, y’know.”

  Bob's left eye twitched slightly. “For what, another boss fight?”

  She shook her head, a small smile creeping onto her lips. “Better, I promise. The market-fest is here.”

  Bob blinked. “The what now?”

  “It’s a special event. Players and stall keepers get access to a big hub for an evening. Food, games, trading. There are even buffs from eating delicious, free meals. Stack up for success. If your belly can hold it.” She poked his tummy, then withdrew her hand as if she had overstepped a boundary.

  Bob’s brow furrowed as he attempted a joke. “Sounds.. Terrible. Besides, you just force-fed me. I'm not sure there’s any more room.”

  Lynn ignored him. “It’s also the only time employees - like me, Mikoko, and the others - can see our families. If they get tickets.”

  That gave Bob pause. "Wait. You need tickets?"

  She nodded. “A hundred coins each. Debt Keeper sells them.”

  Of course that bastard monetized a family reunion. “And you are hoping for your peeps to show up?”

  Lynn’s expression softened. “If their players buy tickets.” She hesitated, then met his gaze grabbing his hands in a clench. “Can we go? Please.”

  Bob opened his mouth to reject it outright. He hated crowds, forced socializing, and anything that smelled remotely like an MMO-seasonal-event. But then he saw her face. The quiet hope in her eyes, the way her fingers twitched slightly, betraying how much this actually mattered.

  He groaned. “If you guys can’t go without me. Then fine.”

  Lynn’s face lit up with a bright, relieved smile. “Really?”

  Bob sighed. "Yeah, yeah. But I swear, if I have to wear some dumbass event outfit-" He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

  “You do!” She grinned. “Everyone has to wear these matching robes and a porcelain mask. Full anonymity for the players. They can’t take it off in there.”

  He dragged a hand down his face. "Of course. Wait- Then how do we eat?"

  She laughed him off as if his question was silly, before her expression turned more serious. “We might be bound by it,” Lynn admitted, “but the system isn’t entirely heartless. Not always.”

  “Tell that to my arm when you see it.” Bob snorted. Lynn smiled softly but didn’t argue.

  With a quiet groan, Bob forced himself upright, feeling the weight of the new metal arm settle into place. It was still unfamiliar, a little stiff. “Alright,” he muttered, rolling his shoulder, “let’s see how my brand-new part handles a handshake or two.”

  Lynn laughed. Soft, genuine. It was enough for Bob to fully commit and he trudged toward Debt Keeper’s stall. He needed 100c per pop. It hurt watching three of his hard-earned orbs being rolled into ticket-funds, but he bought for everyone: Lynn, Mikoko, Iron Jaw, Yui. Luckily Echuu and Bib didn’t need one. The little snotters insisted on having fancy, official invites. His own player ticket was surprisingly free: gotta keep the high-rolling customers happy I guess. .. Coin total: 140.

  Then, as he turned to leave, something gnawed at the edge of his mind. He hesitated. Glanced back. Debt Keeper stood there, unmoving, as ever.

  “Do you want to come too?” Bob asked, and got what he expected: silence. “Okay. You won’t be the life of the party, but whatever.” He slapped down enough for one last ticket. ..Coin total: 40.

  [System] Ticket Purchased. Debt Keeper added to guest list.

  Bob didn’t wait for acknowledgement. He knew none would come. Instead he turned and walked away, metal fingers flexing. He had no idea what he had signed up for but one thing was certain: For this price-tag, there had better be pepperoni deep-pan ad libitum.