Just like when they had gone through Gimleh to get the fracture earlier, Chop the Blade donned his magical mask that concealed his identity.

Considering that he was accompanied by Eik who was maskless and already famous for being the host of the legendary X-ranker Chop, it was doubtful that it would have the same practical effect that he could usually enjoy.

But despite his meteoric rise to fame, Eik hadn't been a prominent player in the Unified Mass for that long yet. And since it wasn't like there was a television news broadcast or the like for his face to be plastered up on for every person in the Alliance to see, regardless of his fame, it was an extreme minority of regular people around Gimleh who actually knew what he looked like.

People like Clan Leader Gul, Andihar Dayarunar, and probably even a lot of the A-rankers directly affiliated with the Nidafjeld Alliance administration who had all been in the game for much longer than Eik had even been an Awakened—and in fact longer than his world had even had Ak'ki—were far more easily recognized on the street.

That meant that they were largely left alone, save some stunned glances thrown their way. At Eik's power level, and Chop's even more so, hardly anyone actually dared to approach them even if they did happen to recognize them.

"So, how has Gimleh changed since you were here last? We marched through pretty quickly earlier so I imagine you can't have gotten much of an impression," Eik said.

Chop looked around. Like always, it was pretty busy in Gimleh no matter where you went, and while the marketplace usually boasted the densest crowds, even the residential areas often forced you to constantly weave between people running errands, going to and from work, residents hanging out in groups on the streets, and children playing this and that without paying much attention to their surroundings.

That was what Eik loved the most about Gimleh. Although Forest was certainly well on the way to following the capital city of the Nidafjeld Alliance, Gimleh was just so full of life.

"It's not bad," the old man muttered through a faint smile. "Not bad at all."

"When were you here last?" Eik asked.

Chop pursed his lips as he thought. "Mmh, good question. I'm not entirely sure, if I'm honest. Thirty years at the very least, much longer since I've been here without the mask. My face used to be well known around these part, you know. Many, many years ago."

"So you are a part of the Alliance. You didn't seem sure when we first met."

"Of course I'm sure. I'm not that old. I was just fucking with you then. And I'm not sure that should be present tense. Were is probably a better fit to describe my current relationship with Nidafjeld. I grew up under the Alliance. Made a family here. Lived my life here. Not in Gimleh, mind you, but under the Alliance nonetheless."

"You have family in an Alliance world?"

"Again, past tense is more accurate," Chop said, suddenly looking much older if that was even possible.

"Did they…?"

"Die? Yes, unfortunately, they did. Being powerful, wealthy, and influential comes with a lot of benefits but never forget that it also comes with enemies. Lots of enemies. You had best remember that, boy. My family died while I was away. My wife and son—powerful in their own rights—were slain and my daughter, daughter-in-law, and… my grandchildren followed closely after, investigations revealed." The X-ranker looked nothing like the quirky geezer Eik had become familiar with throughout the day. His shoulders dropped as if a titanic weight had settled over him and he seemed to shrink in on himself like burning paper crumbling in a fireplace.

"I'll make sure to remember that well," Eik promised, all jokes gone. He could only imagine if he lost Ihasu and the kids. "Will you tell me about your family?"

The old man waved dismissively. "Nah, it's okay. I wouldn't want to bore you with that old story."

"I won't force you to talk—not that I could anyway," he said with a smirk. "but I would like to listen if you would be willing to speak."

Chop swallowed thickly as his eyes grew moist. "Yeah, all right."

Eik listened attentively as the old fart spoke with life and warmth about his most precious of memories. Of loved ones long gone and of times long past. The undiluted joy that seemed to practically wash over the father and husband as he regaled Eik with tales of the family he would never see again filled Eik with sadness in turn. And fear.

Obviously, he was not naïve enough to have ever believed that his sudden claim to fame and simultaneous seizing of power, both personal, economical, and social, was without risk. Although it had been motivated by something not directly related to him, he had felt it first hand when Bin had nearly been killed by a malicious report to mission central by a movement intent on severing all ties with non-Earth entities—a movement they were still working to root out without resorting to direct violence.

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He had felt it and been aware of it but listening to the story of how Chop's life full of love had suddenly been cut short and torn from him like a safety line torn from a climber's harness, terrified him far more than he could have expected. It made him want to run home in that very moment just to make sure that his own family were still safe and sound.

Watching Chop come alive was nice, and it showed a different side of him.

"Was that why you left society? You have been living like a hermit for a long time, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose that's where it all started. After that, whether there were people everywhere around me or nothing at all, the sense of loneliness and isolation was the same. I wasn't an X-ranker back then, obviously, but focusing on training became my way of dwelling in myself. It helped me relive the past. And at some point I hit X-rank. Training became my life."

"And the culprit? Did you ever—"

"Yeah, I found him. I only had a few realistic suspects but after checking out all of them, it could be only one of them. I used to lead a band of mercenaries. We took almost any job so long as it paid well and challenged us. We were successful, and that didn't sit well with others in similar lines of work. A man I had been unfriendly with for a couple of years broke into my home while I was on a long job. It was more than a week before I came home to find out what had happened."

"All that just to, what, punish you for your success?"

"If the blade is the only tool on your belt, violence is the only solution you can see," Chop said with a sigh. "I suppose he hoped it would affect me enough to erase me as a competitor. And it's not like he was wrong about that, it's just that he didn't live long enough to make a profit from it. Oh, the things I did to that abomination. It haunts me."

"It haunts you? Do you regret it?"

Chop barked a short laugh. "Regret it? Not even a little bit. I wish I could have made him suffer for a thousand years for what he did. No, what haunts me is the moment of his death where I thought the hole in my soul would be filled just a little, only to realize that I was just as empty as I had been before killing him. That realization that there was nothing I could do, ever, to make any of it better. That is what broke me. Even the last thing I possessed—my rage—was without purpose and from then on, so was I."

Eik pulled the conversation back to the memories. Trips with his children and grandchildren, and evenings spent together as a family. Once he had begun, Chop seemed unable to stop his stories. It was as if he had been waiting an eternity for the opportunity for someone to listen. For this opportunity to reignite the sparks of of life of the dead. To keep them alive through the telling of their memory.

The X-ranker's mood seemed to improve significantly, and when Eik treated him to a number of pastries the man had never even heard of before, he was almost skipping down the streets.

Strolling through the markets, Eik scoured the shops for S-ranked monster parts and other useful materials but as always, that kind of stuff was mostly found at the auctions.

After a brief visit to an information broker specializing in trade and commerce, they started toward a large auction house that was to hold an auction that evening focusing on exactly what Eik was after.

They had barely made it five steps when Chop gasped and slapped himself on the forehead. "Ah, crap, I knew I'd forgotten something!" he exclaimed and dug around his presumably incredibly spacious bag of holding. "I said I would give you something but all that talking got in the way. Here," he said and held out two dusty old books as well as a bundle of brittle, brown paper for Eik to take. "I've got a number of high-ranked corpses as well, but I think it would be better to dump those somewhere else when we get back to Forest."

"What's this?" Eik asked as he accepted them.

"Writings on alchemy. I've had them for ages. I've lived for a long time and have picked up various things here and there. I don't know if it would be of help but some pretty powerful people held on to those before they… found their way to me."

"Thanks! Anything is helpful at this point, so I'll most definitely look through these when we get back!"

"Just get me those grade seven permanent pills, all right?"

"I'll do my best," Eik chuckled.

Arriving a little over an hour before the auction would begin, finely dressed men and women, many of them accompanied by one or more servants, were already milling about outside the venue. Judging by how weak many of them felt, Eik wouldn't be surprised if, to a good number of them, an auction like this was nothing more than a social event that allowed them to flaunt their wealth and status and cement their place in high society.

With the life Eik was living, it was easy to forget that a vast majority of Gimleh's population never even made it past F-rank. One had to risk their life to advance as an Awakened and most were not willing to.

"At least wear this," Eik said and pulled out a copy of his own outfit, shoving it into Chop's arms. "We'll be turned away at the door if you wear those rags." He'd thrown on a mask as well, albeit the simple, non-magical one Andihar had gifted him.

"You think these aren't rags?" the old man questioned, smelling the clothes with a frown as he pulled them on. "We look like servants." With pants made of a material that resembled common blue denim and a simply black shirt, the clothes lacked any of the intricate decoration worn by the other guests.

"Can you just trust me for once?" Eik complained, briefly forgetting that they had only known each other for a day.

Pushing their way through the gathered rich folk, they got a few snobbish moans before reaching the greeter at the door. He blocked their way with a hand. "Excuse me," he said, looking down his nose at them. "on behalf of whom have you been sent?"

"Hah!" Chop barked mirthfully, slapping the leg of his oversized pants.

Grumbling behind the mask, Eik brushed off the greeter. "We're here on our own behalf. Which of the rooms upstairs are vacant?"

The greeter looked him up and down again, as if unable to believe what he was hearing. "None of them, sir. Those are reserved for VIPs. Please make your way to main floor and take a seat—preferably in the back row."

Hesitating for a second Eik nodded, an unseen grin cracking his lips behind the mask. That could be fun too.