Noah strolled down the campus streets, walking without a deadline or pressing goal for the first time since his arrival. It wasn’t like the clothes were going to all run out of the shop before he got there, after all.

He savored the brief respite, enjoying the smells of freshly baked bread and savory meat rising up from the street vendor carts that dotted the corners of some roads. Students gathered around them and sat on tables lining the road, talking and eating cheerfully.

It was peaceful. A stark contrast to the blood and ash that had been his life for the last few days, and the infinite nothingness that he’d wasted hundreds or thousands of years in. He smiled to himself.

He joined the line at a vendor selling meat pies and fished a coin out of the pouch that Moxie had given him. It was golden, with a silver trim along its edge. One face of the coin was engraved with Arbitage’s silhouette, and the other had a rising or setting sun – Noah couldn’t tell which.

The line shrank quickly and he soon arrived at the front. Noah held the coin out to the portly vendor and gave the man his best grin. “One pie, please.”

He wasn’t sure how much money the coins were worth, but if the man looked offended at the offer, Noah had quite a few more to add to his pay. Luckily, the merchant took the coin without a word. He dug into his apron and pulled out nine pure silver coins that were a little smaller than the gold one, dumping them into Noah’s outstretched palm before sliding a pie over to him.

“Much appreciated,” Noah said, sweeping the silver coins into his pouch and snagging his pie from the table. The merchant grunted, not even gracing him with a response. Noah took no offense to that – he hadn’t seen the merchant speak to anyone in line ahead of him either.

He’d gotten quite a few coins in exchange for what he’d paid, which meant Moxie had given him a significant amount of money. Noah jingled the pouch thoughtfully. For someone that didn’t like him, she was helping more than he’d expected.

How much do I get paid? I promised to pay her back completely, but if she gave me more than I earn and I spent all of it… maybe it’s best to figure out exactly how much all of this is worth before I use too much. I got nine coins back, so it’s probably a safe bet to assume the pie cost one silver.

How much money is food worth again? I can’t remember. I feel like one set of clothes is probably worth… twenty meals, maybe? That seems like a good trade. And if I get paid monthly, I’d expect to earn enough food to eat three times a day at minimum.

That adds up to ninety silver or around nine gold, assuming months are the same length here as they were on Earth. Moxie gave around twenty coins… so more than the absolute bare minimum I’d expect per month.

Much more money than I’d need to last a few days. That’s fishy. I’m going to have to make sure to spend as little of it as possible.

Noah wandered through Arbitage’s busy streets, content to enjoy listening in on passing conversations and appreciate the well-kept flowers and trees lining the sides of the roads. Eventually, his wandering led him to the shopping district.

After peering through the windows of several stores, Noah found what he was looking for. A small bell attached to the door jingled as he entered a shop. Rows upon rows of mannequins greeted him, arranged in neat lines along the right side of the room.

There was a large mirror along the entire back wall, and several lanterns hung from the ceiling beside it, completely illuminating the wall. At the left side of the store were several doors and a counter, behind which sat a short woman hunched over a bright red garment.

A tall student stood across from her on the other side of the counter. He had the broadest shoulders Noah had ever seen and stood two heads taller than him. His hair was short and his features sharp.

The door closed behind Noah, but neither the seamstress nor the student turned to look in Noah’s direction. That was perfectly fine with him. He walked down the rows of clothes, then stopped as he spotted a section near the middle that was full of professor uniforms that matched his.

Noah examined them, looking for a price tag or some indication of how much they cost. He found nothing, and something told him that didn’t mean he was allowed to pick up whatever he wanted and stroll out of the store.

The doors to the side of the counter led to small, enclosed rooms. Each door had a mirror on its back, clearly marking them as changing rooms.

After grabbing several matching outfits and draping them over his arm, Noah walked over to one of the rooms and tried everything on. He emerged a few minutes later, his coat slung over one arm and the new outfits on the other.

He strode over to stand behind the towering student. He had to shift to the side to get a look at the seamstress.

A minute passed. A small needle in her hand flitted in and out of the bright red coat she was working on. Noah’s interest shifted as a bead of sweat rolled down her forehead. She looked a lot more stressed than he would have expected.

Noah pursed his lips. She looked busy. He didn’t want to interrupt her flow state, but there were still things he wanted to do with the day and waiting around forever in yet another line was just about as close to the bottom of his list as a priority could be.

He let nearly five minutes pass in silence before it finally became too much for him. Noah gave one final glance around the store to see if there were any other workers there, but he didn’t spot a single one.

“Excuse me?” Noah asked politely. “I hate to interrupt, but I’d like to buy these. How much is it per outfit? I couldn’t find any prices.”

The seamstress looked up at Noah, her eyes wide with terror. They flicked from Noah to the student beside him.

“Is something wrong?” Noah tilted his head to the side. That wasn’t the look he expected. “I don’t mean to cut in line or anything, but it’s been quite a bit. If someone else is available to help me…”

He trailed off. Neither the student nor the seamstress responded to him. Noah’s eyes narrowed. Tension radiated off both of them with such intensity that Noah could have cut through it with a knife.

“Miss, is everything okay? You don’t look comfortable,” Noah said. The seamstress’ hands were trembling, and Noah realized that several of her fingers were wrapped with bandages from where she’d pricked herself with the needle – not something an experienced seamstress would have done unless she was completely exhausted or terrified.

“Would you stop your yammering?” the huge student finally spoke, turning to look down the bridge of his pointed nose at Noah. Now that they faced each other, Noah could read the nametag that identified him as Tyler.

Odd. That’s the first student I’ve seen with a nametag.

Pure distaste and malice seethed in Tyler’s eyes, taking Noah aback. “Shop elsewhere. She is completing an order and will not stop until it is done.”

“I don’t think I will,” Noah said softly. “Something about this doesn’t sit right.”

The seamstress flinched as Tyler spun toward Noah, his wide mouth pressing thin in anger. Tyler raised his hands and bared his teeth in a snarl.

“Don’t make me toss you out of the–”

Noah didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. As Tyler’s large hands rose into the air, the only thing that he could picture before him was the towering bulky form of a Slasher, its hands lifted to split him in two.

Noah shifted his weight and drove his palm forward. Energy sparked against his fingertips as he sent a powerful vibration out of his palm and into the Slasher’s chest, striking before it could finish the blow. A brilliant red hue flared around the monster and a shield bloomed to life around it. He –

The Slasher was gone.

Tyler stared up at him from where he’d fallen on the ground, his hands raised defensively before his face and his shield burning with desperate light, cracks spiderwebbing throughout it. His eyes were wide in terror.

“I – what?” Noah spun, searching for the Slasher. It was gone. He turned back to Tyler, but any questions he might have had died on his lips.

The door to the shop slammed open. A gray haired man strode inside, a blood red coat rippling around his shoulders. Streaks of white hair interwove with gray in his beard, and the weathered lines on his face marked his age well into the fifties. The light from Tyler’s shield reflected off the man’s right leg, which was a construct of pure silver engraved with Runework.

“I leave you alone for one hour,” the man said, his voice calm but deadly, “and you break your shield already. Inside Arbitage no less.”

Noah squinted at them in confusion. The throbbing pain in the back of his head pulled back completely. There was no Slasher. He’d just attacked a student and, if it hadn’t been for the shield, Noah would have killed him.

“He rocked me, Professor Silvertide,” Tyler said, his eyes still wide. “No hesitation at all. One second, he was just standing there. The next, I swear he was trying to rip my throat out.”

“I–” Noah started.

“Idiot.”

Noah and Tyler both stared at the elderly man, baffled for completely opposite reasons.

“He’s seen combat. Look at his eyes, you imbecile,” Silvertide growled. “I’ve told you not to make threatening moves toward soldiers. You’re lucky he showed restraint, or you might have gotten killed before I got here. Anyone that fights monsters doesn’t have the liberty to determine if you’re friend or foe before making a move.”

Wait, what?