A Day in the Life

After what was probably weeks, the Hub fell into routine.

Crush and Sprite had officially assimilated into their roles as heads of the Adventure Guild, supervising over a thousand members. They updated their Class Crystals to reflect their standings, awarded coins and even took complaints. The core of this function was the Quest Board, which most people visited to plan their days.

There was no external clock, so the day started when the inhabitant's in their cotton tent would stir from their slumber and begin their daily routine. Their first order of business was to check the quest board, where tasks were assigned and completed throughout the day. While most individuals undertook general gathering duties, some had specialized roles that took longer to complete. One such person was Charles, who oversaw the woodworking department and was responsible for constructing new buildings in their rocky prison. Additionally, some dedicated their time to studying the strange entities that they stumbled upon. In contrast, others put their skills to use by knitting clothing or gathering. Despite the diversity in their roles, each member of the community worked together to ensure the safety and prosperity of their group.

After completing a day's work or a quest, individuals would return to the Guild Hall to cash in.

Golly, money. The same factor that made Earth go round kept their community functioning. Some criticisms were made, like, why two teenagers monopolized the workforce. Still, generally, people conformed to the system.

"Generally." Not August though; nah, he hated it.

"Don't be so stubborn!" A young woman lectured, snatching a brown sword-crested cap off August's head.

He and twelve other members were ducked off a few yards from the bustling Adventurer Guild building. The girl had bounced up when she snatched his hat, which made her stand out, so August grabbed her forearm and pulled her back down.

"Shhh!" he sounded, pressing his index finger to his lips and urgently whispering, "They might hear you!"

"Who the hell is THEY!?" The same girl outburst, gripping the headwear and furiously juicing it. Her patience with him became as short as her shirt, which devolved into a ragged crop top over time. Her fiery disposition benefited from the unwanted new look. Her milk-chocolate body was defined, not ripped, but just enough to see an outline of her abs. She was on the shorter end, so she usually had to jump up to slap sense into August.

Not to mention her once long, wavy black hair had started to mutate into an unkept snowy disaster. She already had a resting "fight me" face, but it only worsened when her hair shade began to transform. It was a phenomenon that a pop-up group of researchers called "Hair Depigmentation."

No one knew why certain people's hair began to turn white; at first, it was correlated to stress, but it happened far too fast to be natural.

"Ochitsuke!"(calm down) exclaimed another young woman stroking back the enraged girl's white hair to clear the bangs from her face. She spoke slowly, ostensibly gathering her knowledge of the little English he knew. "Be, nice, Tsuki."(Moon)

The girl wearing a cropped top raised her arm forcefully, threw the hat she had stolen onto the ground, and stomped it. She then turned to the other girl, who was fixing her hair. "I already told you that's not my name!"

August picked up his hat, dusted it off, then sighed before covering his riotous hair. He'd gone the past weeks without so much as breathing in the direction of the Hall. Nonetheless, his persistence was outweighed when his group of independent hunters wanted to sign up as a Guild. They were some of the few fools who accepted the words of the grand talking door that kidnapped them. They aimed to advance through the Dungeons and eventually destroy whatever core kept them.

Before, they used to gather their own food, but their equipment has started to wear down, which made progress difficult. August had to consider whether his deep-seated animosity towards his former torturers was significant enough to put his current companions at risk.

He sat. Contemplated. They could go a little longer with chipped and dull swords or shields, but then what? Eventually, their weapons would break, which could be at a crucial moment that'd cost someone their life.

While he pondered, there were suspicious whispers from his allies. They seemed to be having their own discussion. He paid them no mind; however, he had to wonder why they'd been slowly creeping closer and counting down from ten.

On someone's "go!" A stout arm wrapped around his waist. Another took his arms, and more people jailed his legs before lifting him up like a party-goer in a rave.

"Hurry!" A woman shouted to their party of twelve. Like worker ants, they ferried August to the Guild Hall's double doors. The cabin-style building had grown to two stories, each the size of an office floor or roughly the size of a petite convenience store.

A line of people was already outside, with a crowded space inside. All individuals eagerly waiting to turn in their daily quests. The eccentric allies excused themselves as they forced past the line and entered the wooden building with a struggling August.

His feet were only a few inches away from kicking the holy guacamole out of Kevin, who locked his left knee. From there, he'd be able to break free. The door came all too fast, and he was hauled inside before he could even land that hit.

More aggressive than the intense smell of cut lumber was the pacifying pastel yellow ceiling light that slapped him in the face. August's limbs were snared, and he couldn't cover his adjusting eyes, so he turned his face toward the green-carpeted ground.

"OH MY GOD," shouted the white-haired woman. August felt the grip on his shoulder loosen, so he violently flailed and flopped like a fish out of the water until their hold broke, and he fell onto the floor.

"Look at this place!" Exclaimed the same woman. A vein protruded across August's head, furious he'd been hauled there against his will, even angrier at the ludicrous thought that the two young boys could have built ANYTHING impressive. They were just two scammers that got their kick from giving him a hard time.

He stood to observe the building, starting with that strange overhead light. It was abnormally bright compared to anything he'd seen, almost as if they'd entered to the protective sun.

Muted yellow and beaming, a cubbed glowstone was glued in place on the ceiling. One at the center of the room, bright enough to illuminate the entire space.

The Guild Hall was fully furnished, complimented by the cozy feeling delivered by the fireplace. At the entrance where they stood, there was little to admire except for the soft green cotton carpet they stood on, but further inside were two main sections.

A long high counter was built along the right wall, where the line was headed. Six beautiful women were behind the counter like tellers, speaking to each individual as they arrived. The employees wore matching outfits consisting of a graceful long sleeve, cotton green Renaissance style dress, and black corset.

August observed a grinning man handing a paper to one of the stunning receptionists. The woman then reached below her, withdrew several gem-like coins, and passed them on. His group had actually found a treasure chest by chance, so they had seen the coins before; however, they quickly used them all for light sources and meals.

The waiting room-like area on the left side of the palliative building was furnished with couches, tables, and chairs. There, August clearly saw Sprite, the prince, informally sitting with another guild and cheerily discussing something. The boy had ditched their old clothing and opted for an emerald green renaissance-style blouse that exposed a good chunk of his torso. Every so often, there'd be an outburst of laughter from the section that drew the eyes of those in line, further selling the idea of chill vibes.

August displeasedly peered at Sprite, recalling the last time he observed the boy entertaining a crowd. OH, YEA, it just so happened to be the same day that they were sucked into a magic door, armed with weapons, and imbued with the grand goal of saving the world!

Before that, however, August vividly recalled when Sprite led a group of female models he'd previously worked with. Straight across the stadium gate where he was posted for security. As if he, a pro, would be allured by such a cheap ploy.

...

August returned to his past industry office that same weekend.

BUT, BUT only for one day. And it was to "Check up on old friends." NOT because he hoped to run into cute girls.

"What kind of lies are you spewing," he mumbled, squinting at the boy.

"Someone you know?" Questioned a male that snuck up behind him, a familiar voice but not someone he recognized from his party.

August, unthinking, responded to the voice at his rear as if they were an ally. "Only from my nightmares."

"Oh?" The male sounded, "What an honor then. I didn't know you dreamed of us too."

"Us?" August replied with a contorted face. He circled to shine light onto his confusion, calm and unexpecting. He made the full rotation, only to find the missing half of his nemesis.

Crush had a pompous smirk on his face as he stood there with his hands tucked inside his black leather pants. These pants were tailored from the hide of a dungeon beast. He wore the same green cotton blouse as Sprite, which was tucked into his bottoms. Additionally, he wore his signature silver chain and a black string that carried three Class Crystals.

His entrance triggered a built-in reaction in August, who flung his hand upward, then exclaimed, "You can't be here!"

August's reaction caught the attention of his allies, who looked at Crush with immediate distrust. Although Crush didn't do anything wrong initially, the group was curious about who had troubled their leader.

"Who's this?" Raised Kevin, one of his party members, straightening up to loom over Crush. While those associated with August treated him like a bonehead, they seemed reliable.

Partly, at least.

The girl with invasive white hair squeezed her head between August and the tall man beside him. Her brows raised in surprise, and her jaw unhinged. She looked at Crush the way gambling addicts looked at slot machines. Enchanted.

"I can't be here?" Regurgitated Crush, shifting to an ignorant glance and cluelessly scratching the back of his neck.

"Sorry if I startled you; my name is Crush; I'm co-owner of this establishment."

His "mask" and introduction eased the apprehension of the party. August grimaced, crossed his arms, and spoke sharply, "You didn't; I just mistook you for someone else."

He'd already considered explaining past circumstances to his allies, but history showed that snitching got him nowhere. Police, shoppers, and even his last boss, whenever he tried to explain that the "oh soo very sad" Crush was a crook, they didn't believe him.

"Then, how can I help you?" asked Crush, painting a new smile on his face and clasping his hands together.

The crop-topped woman crammed the rest of her body past the two men, politely approached Crush, then batted her eyelashes while kindly stating. "We'd like to sign up as a guild."

Crush, the perfect acting gentleman, extended an open palm to the woman and captured her petite hand. "It'd be my pleasure to assist you. Right this way."

Reluctant. August followed the boy to the same furnished area where Sprite had been stationed. A wooden barrier divided the meeting space, so Crush could speak with his clients separately.

He placed them comfortably on the couches made of wooden planks, animal skin, and cotton. These chairs looked modern and not like something out of a fantasy, but rather like the kind of American furniture seen in commercials. The quality of these cushions was exceptional, far surpassing even the grip of quicksand.

Crush began by clarifying the terms of their agreement. As long as their group provided for the Adventurer Guild, they'd have access to their quest board, equipment, and the internal shop.

As he covered Adventurer Rank, he asked everyone to withdraw their Class Crystals. Crush then waved his hand to gather the attention of another employee, and she brought a box that contained dozens of black strings.

It became common practice for those apart of the Guild to wear their gems on their neck so it's easy to display their Status for others. They could quickly share information such as the Guild you're affiliated with, Level, class, and rank.

There was still only one Administrative pen, so Crush departed for a moment to retrieve it from the reception area where members turned in quest.

After more information was gathered from August, Crush edited the first Crystal.

[ Name: ] August

[ Class: ] Gladiator - Tank

[ Level: ] 9

[ Hall Rank: ] Bronze

[ Hall Score: ] 1/100

[ Guild: ] The Enforcers

[ Guild Rank: ] Leader

_

It quickly became apparent that he didn't communicate his intention for the Guild Name with his allies because there was a hushed scuffle between them as Crush continued registering everyone.

After everything was settled, the new Guild presented Crush with some junk they found while scouring the Dungeon. There was a dusty scroll written in an alien language, an inscribed dagger, and a metal ring band, among other things.

August found it odd that after Crush took the items, he left to "analyze them." When the boy returned empty-handed a minute later, August developed a mild irritable itch. It lasted five seconds in one location, then jumped to another for another five. Crush also returned with an unusual habit of covering his mouth when he spoke, which led August to think he was up to something.

All in all, they got out of there without any hassle. The fire-spirited woman spent the next half hour after the experience babbling about how hot the owner was. August was a nail away from telling her to shut up, but Reina, the foreign girl, was the first to try and persuade her otherwise.

"Not good. Shady" was the simple words she used to describe Crush. August felt so touched that someone else had the right mind to see Crush for the villain he really was that he hugged her. "I have no idea what you're saying half the time, but thanks!"