The four in front of him looked at him with red faces, but they had lost fair and square. Their Ranks took a large hit. If they fell below ten thousand, they’d be exiled to the true slum cities.

Horland was only one of many domed cities, and there were plenty of cities left to the elements where those who were incompetent were sent to rot. Their society was far from the utopian fantasy and everybody knew it. Your Rank determined everything. Whoever held the five-thousandth spot would probably be irate with Xavier, but that wasn’t his problem as far as he was concerned. His shift in Rank up to 4793 meant someone that previously lived in comfort would have to go back to work.

It was Friday and the night air was cool on his skin. Rank updates would be posted Sunday and everybody would receive their responsibility for that week, but his Privileges had already updated. He looked at his Privileges and decided to do something fun now that he’d broken Rank five thousand.

He grabbed his jacket and walked to the entertainment district. The ambiance quickly changed; cinnamon and spoke hung in the air, bright flashing lights lit up the streets, and great neon signs made everyone aware of what establishment was what.

“Pretty Princess? Maybe later,” he said with a lecherous grin. “Sam’s Smokehouse, getting closer.”

As he kept walking, many vendors tried hawking their wares. Exotic girls, unknown drugs and drink, and even Game Races of all kinds. He shrugged it all off preferring not to pay for girls, choosing his own drink, and winning all of his Races. He still remembered the day when the only Race he had was an Imp.

Xavier let the thought pass and then finally found an establishment unlike all the others, where he could hear Game discussion as he passed by. They were tattooed, pierced, scarred, and adorned in all black. He’d fit right in with his own dark tattoos of different Races and hair that flared back in a very unusual style.

Another cigarette was lit and pressed against his lips as he walked in, seeing people all across the place heatedly talking about their favorite Races. One guy, the bulkiest Vork Xavier had ever seen, slapped another across the face and walked away in a huff. He saw runes glitter in the doorframe as he entered, scanning him to make sure he had the Rank required.

The door lit up gold and an attendant, a female wearing what could only be called lingerie, ran over and took his hand. She led him up two flights of stairs, though he didn’t mind as he watched her shapely legs and firm butt. He could hear giggles from the girl every now and then as they reached the third floor.

She bowed and the door opened as it scanned him. She started to walk back down the stairs and he called after her, “Wait, won’t you join me?”

She stared back down the stairs and looked back up towards him, uncertainty in her eyes. “I have to g-.”

“Please, I’d be honored if you joined me.” He’d already looked inside the room and seen only three other people inside, one being the bartender. “I’ll make it worth your time.”

She looked back downstairs one last time, before smiling demurely and turning back to grab his extended hand. Her behavior surprised him, but he figured her dress had led him to make a few assumptions of her character.

The runic doorframe shone red as she entered and Xavier waved away the bartender, “She’s with me.”

The bartender shrugged and Xavier sat at an empty, velvety booth. The atmosphere was dimly lit, kind of romantic, and a hint of cinnamon and spice hung in the air. When he looked over at the girl, she’d pulled out a notebook from somewhere and was prepared to take his order, but he shook his head. “Sit and chat for a bit. I’ve nowhere else to be and your shift should’ve only just started a short time ago. Would you prefer to go down?”

She put the notebook away and sat, “Okay, then what would you like to talk about? You’re the honored guest after all.” Her voice was silky smooth but held confidence he was unprepared for. His ability to read the fairer sex was shitty, to say the least.

“What’s your preferred Game and Race, and why?” he asked excitedly, hoping to cover up his lack of social skill with knowledge of Games. He took the last draw of his cigarette and used a nearby ashtray, lighting another. Her eyes lit up and he handed it to her after taking a hit.

She looked at it before shrugging, taking it and drawing in deeply. She spoke as she exhaled, “I’m more of a full flavor kind of gal, but about your question…”

She thought about it, taking another hit, and then passed it back over. He leaned forward and gave her his full attention, anticipating her response.

“I’ll answer if you tell me your Rank,” she evaded his question.

He scoffed playfully, and then looked at the collection of spirits behind the bartender as he casually answered, “Forty-seven ninety-three.”

When he looked back, she looked impressed, “Not bad. Is five thousand what it takes to register as gold? I’ve never seen it go above blue, for those about sixty-five hundred, green, for those above eight thousand, and red anybody else.”

“I guess? First time I’ve come here.”

“You answered my question, so I guess I should answer yours. But,” she started and he glared at her. “Okay, okay. Geez, I was kidding. I like culture and Shifters.”

“That’s an interesting choice. I bet your enemies don’t even realize most of their population is full of enemies.” Her glare only amused him. “It’s a beginner strategy, but an efficient one that’s used even further up than I am. People just know how to spot the tells.”

And like that, they smoked and shared Game preferences through the night. Xavier eventually ordered alcohol for both of them, and she changed into regular clothes. Her hair was put up into pigtails that stuck out the side of her head instead of a single ponytail out the back, and her black and grey dress flowed easily. Her skin was light purple instead of the normal blue and she had slightly rounded protrusions for ears.

After shift ended, he offered to walk her home and she accepted, and so they wound up at her place in a drunken stupor. One thing led to another, and he found himself waking up with a terrible headache and a cutie laying on him.

Well, that happened. He remained in bed with Aria, her warm body pressing against his comfortably. But, what happens now?

“I’m surprised you stayed,” she said next to him, breathing softly on his neck. He sat up and scooted so that his back was pressed against the headboard, lighting another cigarette. She did the same and waited for him to pass the cigarette over. Over the course of the night, they had gotten very familiar with one another.

“So, what happens now?” she asked him.

“That’s a question,” he answered, unsure himself.

“What do you want from me?” she turned and asked, passing back the cigarette.

“Nothing,” he responded easily.

She looked like she was hurt and had to take a second before responding, “Then you should go.”

“You misunderstand,” he quickly responded, hoping to clear the confusion. “I don’t want anything from you.”

It took her a second before she understood what he’d meant, leaning forward and kissing him passionately, and he had to avoid burning them both with the lit cigarette.

“So, you want me?”

“I do,” he responded. “There’s still a lot of us to learn about each other, so let’s get dressed and we can talk over breakfast.”

They spent most of the morning talking and getting to know one another before Aria had to leave for work. Xavier walked her to work, sharing smokes on the way, laughing and joking with one another. He kissed her softly as she ran off to work, and then turned away to find Gerald, they’re scheduled training time quickly approaching. Today would be fighting at a disadvantage.