(Lex's POV — After the goblins left)
Lex stared at Herman in horror. The man had lied directly to an armed group of goblins without so much as blinking.
Has this washed-up lunatic lost all his marbles, or only some of them? They're going to report everything to their chieftain.
"Herman! What the hell was that? You might've landed us in some serious shit!"
Herman sneered at him.
"Seriously? I just saved our hides, thank you very much."
"Saved us?" Lex dragged one hand down his face. "What do you think happens when they realise we were bluffing? What happens when they come back with a raiding party instead of scouts?"
Herman stood with his arms crossed, slowly shaking his head.
"You're overthinking it. You're the boss of this place, aren't you? You'll figure something out."
He waved one hand as though the matter were beneath consideration.
Lex glared at him.
"Overthinking it? According to those goblins, we're smack-bang in the centre of monster territory. They're probably the weakest thing this forest has to offer. The other races could be an entirely different story."
His voice dropped.
"This isn't a laughing matter, Herman."
The amusement left Herman's face.
"You're right. I don't know what half those creatures are capable of." He gestured between them. "But are we preparing to fight them? Are we going to rally an army and start hunting monsters?"
He stepped closer and pressed one finger against Lex's chest.
"No. We're opening a shop. Nothing more."
Herman pointed towards the translucent dome.
"Those goblins were frightened of the barrier. Whatever the store put around us, they didn't want to test it. If they return, I reckon it'll be because they genuinely want to buy something."
He lowered his hand.
"Did you see how Vargis reacted when I said we wouldn't discriminate against them? He was eager. If anything, I secured our first customers."
Lex fell silent.
He had spent the entire encounter thinking like someone stranded in a deadly fantasy world. That was true, technically, but they were not helpless in the wilderness. They had a building, supplies and a barrier that appeared capable of protecting them.
More importantly, they had a purpose.
They weren't soldiers or adventurers. They were shopkeepers.
If the system expected them to fight, surely it would have provided weapons rather than a terminal and an empty checkout.
Lex lowered himself onto the grass and rested his chin against one hand.
Right. Breathe. We're going home once the store recovers enough mana, aren't we? Maybe the terminal can tell us what it actually expects before then.
He drew in a long breath and finally looked at the world around him.
The late sunlight fell through an endless canopy, painting the grass gold. Birds called from somewhere beyond the clearing, and a mild breeze stirred leaves that belonged to trees he couldn't name. If he hadn't known what lived farther inside the forest, the place might have seemed peaceful.
Lex sighed.
"I should've gone home after the seminar."
Herman laughed.
"You should get a grip instead of whining."
Lex looked up at him.
"How are you so calm about all this? It barely seems to affect you."
Herman gave him a small smile.
"I've lived with uncertainty since I first became homeless at twenty. Ten years later, I suppose I'm accustomed to being in the shitter."
Lex blinked, then laughed.
"You're only thirty?"
He studied the lines across Herman's face and the other marks a hard life had left upon him.
"Time has not treated you well."
Herman's smile disappeared.
"Nothing has."
The words caught in Lex's throat.
"Right... Sorry."
He cleared his throat and hurried towards safer ground.
"Anyway, I just had a thought."
Herman raised an eyebrow.
"Do tell."
"Inside that metal room, there's a terminal."
Lex explained what he had learned: dimensional travel and CCTV were unavailable, most of the system remained locked and the store needed roughly a day to recover its mana.
"I didn't have much time to look through it before the voices outside distracted us," he finished. "There must be something explaining how we're supposed to begin. It's only a hunch, but it's better than standing here."
Herman nodded and immediately started towards the warehouse.
"Then let's check."
Lex remained seated on the grass.
"Why are you always walking ahead of me? You can't even open the bloody door."
He groaned, forced himself upright and followed.
* * *
(Lex's POV — At the Security Door)
Lex and Herman stood before the control room. The pristine metal security door looked violently out of place against the crumbling stone and rotten timber surrounding it.
Lex glanced around the warehouse.
"Fuck me. If the system expects us to clean this place, it's going to take forever."
Herman shrugged.
"It's your store. Who else is going to do it?"
Lex knew that. Fortunately, his grandfather had raised a complainer, not a quitter.
"What about you?" Lex asked. "You've been rather invested in all this for someone who claimed he lived several districts away."
The homeless man had shown no intention of leaving since they met. Lex understood why. Herman had nowhere else to go, and the warehouse had been his shelter long before Lex arrived.
Herman looked towards the door.
"Are you going to open it or not?"
"Right. Never mind."
Lex placed his hand upon the handle and opened the door.
The terminal greeted them as they entered.
[ Welcome back, Owner Lex and Squatter Herman. ]
Herman burst out laughing.
"Squatter Herman! The store knew I was here the whole time!"
Lex couldn't stop himself from chuckling with him.
Then why didn't it warn me that someone else was inside?
Herman closed the door while Lex approached the terminal. Green, typewriter-like text blinked lazily against its black screen.
[ Notifications: 2 ]
"Notifications?" Lex read aloud.
The terminal accepted the word as a command. A translucent menu unfolded in front of him, most of its options greyed out. Only Notifications remained available.
"You have a keyboard but accept voice commands. What next? Are you a touchscreen too?"
Lex tapped the option as a joke.
The menu opened.
[ Notifications ]
[ Two new messages. ]
[ Open first message? ]
[ YES / NO ]
Lex stared flatly at the screen.
"Of course you're a touchscreen."
He pressed YES.
[ Congratulations! ]
[ You have accessed the Notifications tab for the first time. Welcome to Duris: your new part-time home and full-time job. ]
[ As the owner, you are responsible for meeting the needs of your workplace. One such need was acquiring your first potential customers. ]
[ Well done to Squatter Herman for completing this task in advance. You are one step closer to opening the store. ]
[ Please open Message 2 to receive your first real task and reward. ]
[ End Message. Continue to Message 2? ]
Herman threw an arm around Lex's shoulders and laughed directly into his ear.
"Did you see that? I'm only a squatter, and I completed a task before the owner!"
Lex shoved the arm away and glared at him.
"Yes, yes. Congratulations."
He pressed Continue.
[ Your First Day ]
[ You have arrived in a foreign land, inside a strange store and surrounded by strange people. What should you do? ]
[ Prepare to SELL. ]
[ Before that, look at the state of me. I am a wreck. What would customers think? Fortunately, two able-bodied men are available to address the problem. ]
[ Your first task is to make the store operational and free of hazards. We would not want a visit from the health and safety committee. ]
[ Complete the following requirements: ]
Clear all hazardous debris, including glass, broken shelving and unstable structures. Establish a safe route from the entrance to the counter and storage area. Clean and prepare at least one functional service area. Restore one section of shelving for product display. Move all waste to a designated disposal area. Identify and secure a resting area for staff.
[ End Message ]
Both men stared at the list.
They sighed at the same time.
"That's a lot of shit," Herman said.
"How are we supposed to do any of it? With our bare hands?" Lex asked.
The workload was only half the problem. They lacked the tools and protective equipment to begin safely.
As though it had heard them, the terminal spoke again.
[ Emergency Disrepair Protocol initiated as a reward for Squatter Herman completing a task in advance. ]
Thud.
Something heavy struck the warehouse floor outside.
Both men turned towards the door.
"I have a feeling our tool problem has been solved," Lex said.
Herman stretched his shoulders.
"Good. I was afraid the broom would have to do everything."
They returned to the warehouse and found a neat stack of cardboard boxes where there had been empty floor moments before. Every one bore the words Otherworld Retail Department, shortened beneath to O.R.D. A box cutter rested upon the uppermost package.
"Let's unpack this lot."
Lex sliced through the tape securing the first box. Inside were heavy-duty bin bags, work gloves, a first-aid kit and two pairs of steel-toed boots—both, strangely enough, in exactly the right sizes.
The next box contained brooms, dustpans, shovels and a crowbar.
The remaining packages held buckets, cleaning sprays, cloths, hammers, nails, rope, tape, hand saws and enough basic equipment to begin making the building safe.
Herman crouched beside the tools and picked up one of the hammers. His thumb ran over its spotless head.
"Nice. I haven't used tools this new since I worked with my old man."
Lex glanced sideways at him.
"You used to work in a trade?"
"All the time. I wasn't qualified, but I helped with my dad's business under the table." Herman turned the hammer in his hand. "Never earning the qualification is one of my biggest regrets. No company wants an uncertified tradesman."
The bitterness in his voice made it clear he had tested that rule more than once.
"What happened to the business?" Lex asked.
Herman's attention remained on the hammer.
"My old man died when I was nineteen. I kept things running for a while, but the authorities shut us down because I didn't have the right certifications."
Why do I keep asking questions with miserable answers?
"I'm sorry, Herman. That must've been rough."
Lex picked up a hand saw and examined its teeth with little understanding.
"At least those skills will be useful now. Especially since I have no idea how to use any of this properly."
Herman slowly looked towards him.
"You don't know how to use tools?"
Lex scratched his cheek.
"No. Never had much reason to learn."
Herman sighed from somewhere deep inside his soul.
"What is wrong with your generation?"
"You're thirty. You're not allowed to say that yet."
He sounds like an old geezer already.
The way Herman spoke sometimes reminded Lex painfully of his grandfath