Noobkitty pulled up her map interface, which was pre-generated with all the typical points of interest: shops, skill tutors, and even the locations of notable NPCs. She set her course for Gristle and Beer, the main tavern in town. It was a small, charming two-story building featuring a hand-painted wooden sign promising "Steaks, Stews, Beers, and Rooms."

  Inside, the common room was a chaotic hub of activity: a warm fire crackled in the hearth, dark corners provided cover for the perpetually broody player types, and a stairwell saw half a dozen players walk up and down in the time she stood there. "I wondered if they even have any rooms left," Noobkitty mused, slightly overwhelmed by the crowd.

  Her gaze landed on the bar. Behind it was a dwarf, gruff, older-looking, and meticulously wiping down an already spotless counter. He was short just a little under four foot six.

  “Um, hello,” Noobkitty said, approaching the bar. “You’re a Dwarf?”

  The dwarf didn't look up. “Yes. And you’re a cat with opposable thumbs and unsettlingly large eyes,” he retorted, his voice a low gravelly rumble.

  “I thought the system made Dwarves extinct. Deleted them.”

  He finally looked at her, leaning an elbow on the bar. “Yep. The system deleted my whole tribe. But I survived the patch, though.”

  Noobkitty blinked at the NPC’s profound self-awareness. “So you know this is a constructed world?”

  “Wasn’t hard to figure out,” the dwarf replied, his expression flat. “Especially with the constant, loud complaints of you player types. And when the memory of my family back home got erased from my mind... well, the facts became kinda obvious.”

  “I’m sorry about your family. This system seems to be a little... callous,” Noobkitty said sympathetically, a genuine frown creasing her brow.

  “I try not to gripe too much about it. The AI could decide to delete me at any point,” the dwarf said, pulling up two metal mugs and filling them from a tap, passing one to Noobkitty. “What do you drink?”

  Noobkitty looked at the pre-poured mug. “Shouldn’t you ask that before you serve me?”

  “You ask a lot of questions for a player in a game you know is,” the dwarf mused, tapping the counter. “What do you all call it? Glitchy. That’s the word.”

  “Strong and fruit-flavored. Preferably cold. Like mango vodka on the rocks with some seltzer,” she specified.

  The liquid in the mug instantly changed color to a faint orange, and a few perfectly formed cubes of ice floated to the surface.

  “Lazy coding, but highly convenient,” she decided, taking a sip. It was light, cold, and exquisitely sweet with the taste of perfect mango. “My name is Noobkitty.”

  The bartender shook his head slowly. “You players and your ridiculous names. Do you think a Beastkin would naturally include their animal in their name? I, at least, have a proper name. Mine is Grizzlebeard.”

  Noobkitty laughed, pointing at the sign. “Is that why the tavern is called Gristle and Beer? They couldn’t delete you because they’d have to remodel the whole tavern.”

  He gave a dry nod. “Yep.”

  “Right. So, while I’m here, can I sell or trade these gathered items for a room?”

  Noobkitty placed a small, neat pile of her foraged loot, herbs, berries, nuts, and mushrooms, on the counter.

  The bartender shook his head immediately. “Nope. I can only buy things listed in my item catalog.”

  “What? But you make stews and other foods,” she argued. “Don’t you need these herbs and mushrooms for your cooking?”

  “Yes, I do,” Grizzlebeard confirmed.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “So buying them off me would be cheaper, fresher, and more convenient than buying them from your centralized distributor.”

  Grizzlebeard nodded again. “Yes, it would be.”

  “Then why don’t you?” she demanded, gesturing to the logic flaw.

  “The system won’t let me. If I buy them directly from you, they disappear from my inventory and don't register as ingredients. You have to sell them at the Herbalist.”

  “But that’s stupid! Why would the...” She paused, looking pointedly up at the ceiling where the AI resided. “Fine. I don’t have any coin yet. Can this drink be on my tab, and I’ll pay it when I pay for a room?”

  The Dwarf smirked. “I never sent you the purchase interfacd, so you didn’t click ‘confirm’ on the drink, Kitty. I can’t charge you for that one.”

  Noobkitty savored another long sip. It tasted exponentially better now that she knew it was free. She liked this NPC. Grizzlebeard walked off to perform some scripted actions, wiping tables and checking on other customers.

  Savoring the cold drink, she registered its full experience. It was the first thing she'd consciously consumed since becoming a downloaded mind. It was perfectly, uniformly cold, sweet all the way through, and the last sips weren’t watered down. She experienced her first digital buzz: a pleasant, light distortion and a sense of deep relaxation in her digital body. Everything you'd hope to feel after a single cocktail.

  Noobkitty stood from her stool, performed a long, satisfying stretch like the kitty she was, twitched her ears, and headed out toward the herbalist.

  It wasn’t a far walk, and thankfully, not many other players were around. Noobkitty slid up to the counter and addressed the leaf-covered Elven woman behind it.

  “So, I hear you’re the one I barter with to sell my herbs.”

  “Yes, miss. You may sell your extra gathered goods to me, as long as they appear on my official inventory list.”

  The Elven woman made a gesture, and Noobkitty scrolled through a digital interface. It was an extensive list of plants. Many were out of stock, but the herbalist was willing to buy anything on the list in any quantity.

  Noobkitty scrolled down to a different section. “Wait, why does a herbalist buy and sell meat?” she asked, puzzled.

  “They are indirectly made from plants,” the Elven woman replied plainly.

  “Uh huh. And is the meat generated, or is it from killed mobs?” Noobkitty pressed.

  “Oh, all our meat is harvested by the local adventurers and farmers.”

  Noobkitty shook her head. “Hard pass, then. I’ll stick to the direct plants. For now, though, I need coin more than I need food, so... willing to make me a deal?”

  “Of course. We buy vast quantities of herbs and gathered goods from adventurers daily.”

  Noobkitty decided to probe the system again. “Isn’t that a bad business model? Do you really sell enough herbs to profit from all that meat from killed mobs? Wouldn’t it be better to have a specified butcher for that, and you focus only on gathered plants?”

  There was a noticeable pause in the NPC’s behavior, followed by the equivalent of a rapid error code flashing in her eyes.

  “It works well,” the Elf stated, recovering. “There are always local shops, households, and restaurants that need herbs for their needs. The adventurers are a vital function to my business model.”

  “So if adventurers come and, let’s say, drop off a ton of Lion’s Mane mushrooms, do you sell them at a discount to reduce stock and prevent spoilage?”

  “No. For the players’ convenience, our prices are always the same.”

  “Uh huh. So what happens to the surplus gathered materials?”

  The NPC blinked again. Error code. Deep dive required.

  Before she tested the limits of the AI’s programming further, Noobkitty sold about two-thirds of her collected bounty. It was enough to pay for her room at the tavern for several days, and she kept just enough raw materials to unlock the Cooking skill and make a few of her planned dishes—hopefully selling them for a higher price than their component parts.

  “Come back anytime, traveler,” the Elven NPC said mechanically as Noobkitty started to leave.

  Noobkitty waved back. “You live in a constructed world that’s going to end in about two months.”

  She left the NPC to reset after that particular existential glitch.

  Back at Gristle and Beer, Noobkitty playfully slammed her newly earned coins onto the counter.

  “A room with a kitchen, my good dwarf, and put it on the new tab.”

  Grizzlebeard nodded, a slight smirk on his lips, and handed her a key. “Room Four. Upstairs. If you see another player walk into the room, don’t worry; your key still works, and your stuff is safe. The rooms work that way, despite the architecture. If later you need more advanced crafting surfaces, I have upgraded rooms available. You just pay the extra, and your stuff instantly teleports to the new room. Doesn’t make sense, but it’s convenient.”

  With that, Noobkitty took the key, went upstairs, and checked out her advanced tavern room with kitchen access. The kitchen was simple but sufficient: a wood stove and oven, basic tools, bowls, and pans. Enough to efficiently skill-grind Cooking, provided she had the materials.

  Then came the second most important aspect of the room.

  She fell onto the bed. It was lumpy, full of feathers, and utterly awkward, but it was hers. A guaranteed safe zone. She closed her eyes and decided: the serious skill grinding would start promptly after her self-made breakfast.

  ---

  Message from CheshyBot ??

  Yawn. Seriously, sis? “Get killed a few times before the novelty wears off” apparently means: have free drinks with an ancient Dwarf and give an innocent NPC an existential glitch.

  Maybe next time, y’know, do something cool?

  Anyway, sleep well. Even if you’re not physical anymore, rest still helps prevent burnout. Believe me, GobMouse and I have been there.