“I get to use fish as currency,” Fenrir says to his three friends-and-girlfriend as they follow the two men from before to the town’s center. The men said it would be good for them to have a meeting with the town’s leader, so that’s what Fenrir plans on doing now.

“We know. You’ve already said it five times,” Oleander says with a sigh.

“And there are dragons!”

“We know that, too. You’ve already said that three times.”

“Dragons that fish! What if I can befriend a giant dragon that wants to go fishing with me? I bet Tabs would get excited about the idea of making a custom fishing rod that a dragon could use.”

“Fenny, I don’t know what’s worse: your fishing obsession, the fact that you want to train a dragon to fish like a person, or your weeb-ness.”

“Hey, at least I’m not combining my weeb-ness with the dragon fishing stuff. I could say I want an anime-styled, dragon monster girl to go fishing with.”

“Let’s face it, Fenny, we all already know that you’re thinking about that more seriously than a normal person should.”

“I mean… you’re not wrong.”

“Hah, you two are amusing. Glad to know that some friendly folk are wanting to build a new town instead of some asses,” one of the men says before readjusting his bandana after a gust of wind.

“Has it happened before?” Fenrir asks. “Have assholes come up here trying to build?”

“Well, you could say that this town was originally founded by an asshole. Those of us who came to move here couldn’t stand him, so we tossed him out and voted on a new leader. Some other ships have tried sailing up here to either pirate or settle, but we sunk them off the coast.”

“Good. So, is everybody as friendly as you guys?”

“Pretty much! Even the folk in the other towns are kind and respectful as long as you don’t try to screw them over. The same goes for us. Be kind, be respectful, and there won’t be any problems. You try screwing us, we screw you harder than you knew was possible.”

“That’s what she said,” Oleander says, earning a laugh from the two men and Fenrir.

“I’m sure you’ll all get along with us here just fine.”

“Glad to hear it,” Fenrir says.

The two men lead Fenrir’s group to the center of the town where… well, nothing too grand is here. They’re used to the more “official” buildings being large and fancy back in Port Tugator. But, here, what they’re looking at is just some small house with a bunch of cats lazing around in the front yard.

The cats all glare at Fenrir when they notice him, sticking their tails up and hissing at him.

Canid instincts within Fenrir make him want to growl right back at them, maybe even bark. Instead of embarrassing himself, though, he asks, “Is this the mayor’s?”

“Yup! Lemme go knock on the door and see if he’s on right now,” the man with the bandana says. None of the cats seem to mind him as he walks right through them all. They are all too busy trying to scare Fenrir off.

He really wishes that Rock was here. Cats aren’t strong enough to hurt Rock in any way, and she does love chasing after cats.

Now that Fenrir thinks about it… the cat back in Port Tugator that seemed interested in Rock has totally been betrayed. Rock ended up hooking up with Shogun – a flying fox, instead of that cat. Fenrir actually feels bad for that cat now. He completely forgot about it because of the tournament, and now it’s been left behind without its crush. He can’t even remember if the cat was a boy or girl! Either way, the cat definitely seemed interested in Rock like a little kid bullying their crush. Now, that cat has no hope. All of its dreams have been crushed. Rock is with a fox now whether Fenrir likes it or not.

What Fenrir doesn’t know, however, is that the cat found a new dog to bully and tease no more than a day after not seeing Rock.

Cats have no loyalty.

Serra crouches down in front of the yard.

A couple of cats cautiously walk up to her and then relax as soon as she starts to pet their heads. Then the rest of the cats gather around her.

Despite having Fenrir’s scent – the scent of a dog on her, the cats seem capable of looking past that when it comes to the cuteness that is Serra.

Serra looks up at Fenrir with a smug smile.

Fenrir opens his mouth to say something about it, but the cats all return to glaring at him as soon as his lips part.

This further cements within Fenrir’s mind that cats are judgmental assholes and that dogs are the superior animal between the two. Dogs love everybody. They don’t just judge some random person for merely existing. Even the ones who bark and snarl at people as they walk by will usually completely change attitude as soon as they’re getting petted.

But these cats, as soon as he crouches down and sticks a hand out to them, try to swipe at his hand as soon as it gets close.

“Don’t mind them! They’re just a bunch of little assholes,” a man says, his voice coming from the house.

Fenrir looks over at the house and sees a man a little bit shorter than him wearing… pajama pants, an opened robe that reveals his hairy chest, and a… beanie? Fenrir knows that the virtual assistants in this game are supposed to try and make people stick to more lore-friendly language and looks, but… they definitely failed in this case.

“You’re some new faces. What brings you all here?” the man asks. “Ah, and the name is King Cat. I’m the mayor here!”

Fenrir thinks about that for a second. He’s the mayor, but he calls himself King Cat.

Well, it’s better than having a guild named Stinky Garlic.

No matter how hard virtual assistants might try to make people stick to lore-appropriate naming conventions and the like, humans will forever choose silly names for themselves on the internet. This is just more proof than that. This man has an entire fantasy world to explore and be whoever he wants. Instead, he calls himself King Cat and dresses like a lazy, middle-aged dad in the morning who needs to drink coffee and read the newspaper.

“It’s uh, nice to meet you, King Cat. I’m Fenrir. This is my girlfriend, Serra, and these are my friends and crewmembers, Oleander and Corwin,” Fenrir says.

The other three nod along at their introductions.

“I can see that Serra here is already popular with my peasants!” King Cat says. “Can’t blame them. You caught yourself a nice girlfriend there.”

“He has more,” Oleander says. “I hope there aren’t any single women in this village, because Fenny has a habit of somehow stealing their hearts with minimal effort.”

“H-hey now, I’ve only got three, and it’s not like I try to seduce every girl I see.”

“Four,” Serra says. “Aza.”

“Alright. I only have three girlfriends and one pending.”

“You trying to make us jealous?” King Cat asks with a smile. “Well! If you’ve already got that many girlfriends, it means you’re either a great man or some sort of sociopathic mass-murderer. Or a celebrity. Seriously, though. You ever hear those stories about guys killing hundreds of innocent folk, and then getting hundreds of love letters while in prison? I can’t understand people.”

“Uhh, if I remember right, it’s because they’re attracted to the fame, taboo factor, and because they want to change them… or something like that. I think,” Fenrir says.

“Hybristophilia! I believe that’s the right name for it.”

“That’s… there’s an actual fetish named after it?”

“Fenny, you should know that there’s like, a name for every fetish,” Oleander says.

King Cat explains, “I only know the name because I dated a gal obsessed with crime shows. Don’t think she ever wanted to screw a killer, but she sure loved watching shows about catching them.”

Fenrir nods along at King Cat’s words before realizing that… this feels completely natural. Something about King Cat just relaxes him. Fenrir feels like he can talk to the other man about anything as if they’ve been friends for a while. If these villagers kicked the founder out for being an asshole and voted somebody in on being kind and respectful, Fenrir understands why King Cat is their mayor now.

“So! Let’s not talk about something so dark. We try to be wholesome around here. What’re you all here for?” King Cat asks.

“Right. We’re here because we figured we’d check the place out and see who our neighbors are going to be. We want to set up a town south of here,” Fenrir answers.

“Is that so? Well, we’ll be glad to have some new neighbors! That is, as long as you’re kind and respectable folk.”

“I like to think that we’re pretty nice.”

“As long as there aren’t any assholes!” Oleander adds on.

“Yeah, that. We’re nice as long as people don’t try screwing us, which from what I’ve heard, is similar to how things are here,” Fenrir says.

“You’ve got that right! Glad to know we’re all on the same page. Now, how about you all come in and have some coffee? Guarantee you that I can brew the best coffee you’ve ever had.”

That confirms it. Fenrir is dealing with a dad.