That came as a surprise to Gael. Apparently, only he and this Sera lady were the players in Goldenleaf. Everyone else were NPCs. 

With the way the NPCs acted, he thought that most of them were real people. Their behaviors, movements, and emotions seemed to reflect those of actual human beings.

Does this mean Antoria knows the players are not from this world? Huh.

He had a lot to think about, but not enough time to do it. 

"Sera said she'll talk to you in her office. Go on out back, you'll find it there." 

The bartender had returned but without Sera. He urged Gael to head to her office himself through the back door. And so he did. 

Gael stood at the entrance to Sera's office. With an expectant look on his face, he knocked on the door.

"Come in." A rough, yet feminine sounding voice replied.

Pushing the door open, Gael stood there to look at Sera. In terms of appearance, she was quite attractive. The pointed ears on her head immediately gave away her identity as an elf. 

Sera herself looked quite young. If Gael had to judge her based on her body, she would be just above the age when adolescence finished. Still, being an elf meant she had experienced twice if not thrice the number of years Gael had–or, her avatar did. Her hair was of a platinum blonde–a perfect mix of the two colors. Her hair hung behind her back the same way Gael's did.

"Don't just stand there, take a seat. I'm sure you have questions, being a new player and all."

Her words brought Gael right back. He nodded and entered the office. He sat down on the chair beside her desk, on the opposite side.

"What's your name again? Sorry, Goldenleaf doesn't receive a lot of visitors, especially at this time of the year."

"Gael. Gael Runner. And what do you mean, this time of the year?" He replied.

"It's the first day of September. In other words, it's the day of the autumn festival, which every single country in Antoria celebrates. Most players have temporarily moved their homes to major cities, leaving the less populated ones, like Goldenleaf, empty."

"I see…" Gael replied, although he still didn't understand most of what she was saying. 

"Your face tells me you have no clue about what goes on in Antoria. Don't worry, I was the same." Sera smiled. "Only a rookie would ask an Antorian about players."

"But… since there's no other player here to answer your questions, it's my responsibility as a veteran to make sure you're well-informed about Antoria Online. So fire away. Ask me anything."

"Right…" Gael replied. "Then, can you first tell me about this world? I went into this game completely blind, so I don't know a lot. Or anything, for that matter."

"Hoh, a fellow blind player? I did the same. Big mistake. Anyway, you wanted to know about Antoria, yeah? For that, I'll have to get your permission."

"Get my permission… for what?"

"Open your mind to me. It'll make the whole process easier."

Sera raised her left arm and began chanting a phrase in a language Gael could not understand.

Suddenly, a burst of information began entering Gael's head. Names of important people, locations of interest, the history of Antoria… the amount of knowledge he was receiving was hurting his brain. 

"Just open your mind. Don't resist. It'll make the pain more bearable."

Gael clutched his head in pain. The sensation felt akin to a thousand knives penetrating his skull and piercing his brain. Each individual fragment of information echoed new waves of pain, repeating a never-ending cycle. 

The pain subsided gradually over the course of a minute. When it was finally over, Gael was completely covered in sweat.

"What… was that?" He managed to say.

"Tier two Intellection spell, Message. It's rather painful the first time someone experiences it, so I apologize. But if you have any questions about what I just sent to you, feel free to ask. I only implanted the most basic of information inside your head–any more, and you would've collapsed from the sheer amount of knowledge."

Gael managed to once again sit upright. Once his breaths began to steady, he started to ask Sera any questions he could form. 

"You say everyone has moved to the major cities in order to celebrate the autumn festival, but why are you still here?"

"We needed someone to stay back and watch Goldenleaf in case any newbies wound up here. Thank your lucky stars I did, because you wouldn't know a single thing if I wasn't here."

"And besides, I can never turn down an offer to earn more money. Antorians don't celebrate the festival as wildly as the Outworlders do, and they prefer to do it within the comfort of their own homes."

The information Sera had implanted in Gael's brain had a list of various important details about the world. One of them caught his attention. 

"The magic you cast on me earlier… you were speaking a language I didn't recognize."

"It's called Inveridium, the language of magic. We Outworlders have a different way of harnessing the energy in the air than the Antorians do, and Inveridium was created to help supplement that."

Gael already knew of the existence of mana cores, a special organ present in Antorians that allowed them to breathe in the mana in the air and use it to cast their spells. 

But Outlanders, or players, didn't have mana cores. Well, they didn't, at least until they attempted surgery. In order to cast magic, they employed the use of Inveridium as a way to will the world to manifest in the form of spells. 

The downside to this was that every spell had a unique incantation that required memorization in order to be used effectively. 

"Can I learn that, too?" Gael asked. 

The prospect of being able to wield magic opened up a myriad of new possibilities for gameplay. Strangely enough, however, the idea of using it against other people in combat wasn't that high up on Gael's list. 

"Sure, but you'll have to find a teacher to impart the words of wisdom to you." 

"Can't you do it, Sera?"

"Hah! I don't have the time to teach you, kid. I'd rather spend my days counting the cash I earn from the pub. Unless you can offer me a price, leave that thought out."

Sera was quite adamant about this. If Gael couldn't pay her enough to make up for the time she would spend teaching him the many incantations known to the Outlanders, then she wouldn't do so. 

"I said I was going to work for you. What if I pay you using my salary? I'll leave enough for me to survive, but in exchange for it, I want you to teach me Inveridium."

"Oh, yes. You did say you wanted to work here. Tell me, how good are you at talking to patrons?"

"What do you mean?" Gael tilted his head in confusion. 

"What I mean is, are you able to convince them to spend their money on another pint of beer, even after they've long gone past how much they initially planned on drinking?"

"We'll find that out if you let me work, won't we?"

"Hah! Alright, kid. You start tomorrow. Ask Pierre to give you the rundown on what you'll be doing. I expect you to increase our sales profit by at least ten percent by tomorrow."

"Great… and who's Pierre again?

"The bartender, dumbhead."

As Gael was practically kicked out of Sera's office, he made his way back to the pub. He sat down on the same stool he did when he first entered.

Pierre, the bartender, seemed surprised to see Gael still there. He slowly approached the boy, making it painfully clear that he wasn't delighted to still see him. 

"I'm guessing Sera accepted you." He said, sighing. 

"That's right. She said you'd be teaching me the ropes to prepare me for my shift tomorrow."

"Of course she did, that brat. Put this on." 

Pierre dug beneath the counter and pulled out an apron, which he handed to Gael. The latter began putting it on, paying attention to the bartender, who looked like he was about to begin a speech. 

"I'll only say this once, so listen carefully. The name of the game here is profit."

"Profit?" Gael repeated.

"Profit. Our only goal is to get the customers to spend as much money as possible on drinks. If you can pressure them to buy the entire pub a glass, go for it. As for how to do it, I'll teach you a secret."

Pierre gestured for Gael to inch closer to him. The latter brought his head over the counter, listening to the bartender whisper. 

"Body language. You look for signs that help you read a person's current state. People often have defensive mechanisms they employ when they feel threatened, and the same goes for the opposite. It is your job to read those gestures and act accordingly. If you see a patron acting boastful, gently nudge him towards ordering a few pints if he loses a bet. That is the key to successfully serving."