Chapter Eight

Aster snapped back to consciousness, the bright sun blinding him as he opened his eyes. The return to his body was jarring, but it wasn't just because he had spent the last few hours as a formless ghost.

He was a new Aster, even just standing still he could tell that. His body felt energetic and strong, flexible and comfortable, the way a 19-year-old's body should feel.

Aster knew the debt weighing on his shoulders should feel a bit heavier... but he couldn't help but feel hopeful.

Wham!

A massive force slammed into Aster from behind. He was thrown down onto the ground, hands scrapping on paved white stone.

"Get the hell out of the way, bro." shouted a gruff voice from above him, not even deigning to stop before running off.

Aster looked up at the man's back as he ran off. Short buzzed black hair, greenish grey skin, and a set of leathers that looked half his size. He was probably a half-orc, but that's all Aster could tell before the man disappeared into the crowds.

What an asshole. Not an amazing first impression for Alurian. Aster thought as he stood up and dusted himself off, hands throbbing slightly from the fall.

He looked down at himself and sighed in relief. He was no longer clad in a questionable hospital gown, but what seemed to be the standard of living clothes. A ruffled off-white button-up shirt, a pair of black pants, and matching boots.

Simple, yet elegant.

All around him extended a square city center bustling with stalls and decorations. He stood a few feet from a dried-up fountain placed in the dead center of the square. Like the rest of the square, it seemed as if the fountain had been quite grand at some point in time long past.

It seemed like the locals had set up a small welcome for them, but it failed to cover up the sorry state of the town.

Dong. Dong. Dong.

A couple of meters past the fountain, the town hall's massive bronze bell rang three times. In that same instant, hundreds more players phased into the town square.

For a moment, relief flooded through Aster. This would be his opportunity to meet some other players who had just joined, and possibly even form a party, something more than necessary for a support player like him.

Aster scanned the crowds as the new players gained their bearings. He noticed a tall blond elf man with the warrior path starting gear.

If he picked warrior, he is probably bronze tier player like me. Aster thought, building up the confidence to walk over and introduce himself to the man.

He took just one step forward before all hell broke loose.

Every single player broke into a mad dash in every which way. Looks of fierce determination were painted on their faces as if they had no doubts about where they were headed.

The elf Aster was approaching had disappeared. He stood amid a storm of people, not a single one noticing his presence.

A familiar feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. The same feeling he had watching his peers head off to school while he prepared for work.

The feeling of falling behind.

Aster's eyes scanned the crowd frantically, looking for anyone he could approach.

He spent a few moments reaching his hand out towards them, trying to tap people or get their attention in any way he could.

In the best cases, Aster was ignored. Some people hurled insults or slapped his hand away, others...

-

Aster sat on the edge of the fountain as he rubbed the darkened skin around his eye.

A punch in the face for asking a question? What was wrong with these people? He couldn't wrap his head around it. Passing players looked at him with disgust. He just didn't understand.

For the next ten minutes, he simply watched as the crowds flowed from one building to the next.

Each time the crowd left a building, no one would enter it, as if it no longer existed at all.

With each minute Aster watched, that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach grew heavier. 

So much for a fresh start. I've always started 15 steps behind, nothing has changed.

Aster started slipping into old habits. Slipping into the comforting embrace of self-pity, the indifference of powerlessness. Learned helplessness was not an easy thing to break.

"What are you even doing here?" A girl said in a mocking voice as she passed him.

That question bounced around in his head, he didn't have an answer. He wasn't here for a reason, he was here because he tried to die, and he failed at even that.

Look where that landed him, millions of dollars in debt-

The debt.

Mom.

The realization hit Aster like ice-cold water, cracking the shell of pity that he had retreated into. He had a new body to use, a new world to explore, a new life to live. Most importantly, he had a debt to pay.

He could have arrived in this world missing an arm and it still would have been a blessing, but here he was moping about not knowing what to do.

He was disgusted with himself.

Just what have I been doing for the last 20 minutes?

-

Aster peered into an empty tavern and took a step inside.

The room was demolished, it looked like a warzone. All around the bar, cabinets lay ajar with their contents emptied, wooden seats thrown and broken into splintering pieces.

Did this happen just now?

Cautiously, aster crept towards the bar, the ominous silence of the ransacked bar putting him on edge.

The powerful smell of iron made his face cringe. A part of him knew what he would see even before he rounded the bar.

Bile rose in his throat.

There was a body.

Aster's world spun. He fell to his knees.