I wasn't expecting romance in the sewers.
That probably sounds obvious, but after my last three days, romance wasn't the weirdest possibility. A giant rat king, bounty posters with my name, and a dagger that whispered at me like a clingy goth girlfriend—romance was technically the least strange option.
But that's the thing about Shadow Online: you never know who you'll meet in the shadows.
After assassinating Captain Rourke and successfully hay-bale-diving my way to freedom, I decided to lay low. My bounty was now 30 silver—not life-changing, but enough to make opportunistic players salivate.
So, naturally, I strolled straight into the busiest part of town: the open-air market.
The place was a riot of colors and noise. NPC hawkers shouted about turnips with suspicious enthusiasm. Players haggled over gear drops. The smell of roasted meat, fried dough, and freshly tanned leather swirled together until my stomach started a revolution.
That's when I saw her.
She wasn't glowing or sparkling or outlined with neon pink "potential love interest here!" arrows. Just a girl at a merchant stall, tall, with auburn hair pulled back into a messy braid, sharp green eyes, and a smile that could either sell you bread or trick you into selling your soul.
Her nametag floated above her head: Lyra (Level 5 Merchant).
The Merchant Class
Merchants in Shadow Online weren't NPC filler—they were a full-blown player class. No fireballs, no sword swings, no stealth crits. Just buying, selling, crafting, and—if you played it right—controlling entire markets.
Which meant that while my dagger whispered for blood, Lyra's coin purse probably whispered for power.
She was hunched over a ledger, frowning at a player trying to haggle.
"Ten silver for wolf pelts? You're robbing me blind!" the guy barked.
Lyra didn't even look up. "Then please, by all means, go sell them to someone else."
The guy sputtered, turned red, and stormed off. Lyra scribbled something in her ledger without blinking.
I liked her immediately.
I strolled up, leaning casually on the stall. "Rough day at the office?"
Her eyes flicked up to me, scanning, calculating. "If you're here to haggle, save us both the time. Prices are fixed."
"Relax," I said, flashing a grin. "I'm not here to haggle. I'm here to admire your complete disregard for customer service. Beautiful work."
Her mouth twitched like she was fighting a smile. "You're a strange one. What's your name?"
I hesitated. Flashing Shade in a crowded market was like taping a "Kick Me" sign to my forehead. But she seemed sharp enough to notice the bounty posters already.
"Shade," I said finally. "Maybe you've heard of me."
Her brow arched. "The Shade? Assassin? Wanted for thirty silver? I thought you'd be taller."
Ouch. Straight to the ego.
"I get that a lot," I said smoothly. "The hay bales add height."
She laughed then, quick and bright, and I knew two things immediately: one, she was dangerous in a way no sword could match, and two, I was doomed.
Lyra leaned over the stall. "So, Assassin, what do you want with a merchant?"
"Information," I said. "And maybe supplies. You're sharp, and you clearly don't scare easy. That makes you useful."
"Useful?" she echoed. "That's one way to charm a lady."
"Charm is just manipulation with extra steps."
She smirked. "And what makes you think I'll deal with a wanted criminal?"
I tapped the side of my hood. "Because criminals make the best customers. We pay in untraceable gold, no taxes, no questions. And in a game where coins can turn into dollars, that's worth more than any clean conscience."
Her eyes glittered. "You understand the market."
"Enough to know I need an ally in it. You."
We ended up at a tavern—neutral ground, quieter than the market. She bought the drinks, which felt ironic since I was the criminal and she was the legitimate businesswoman.
"So," she said, sipping, "why assassins?"
I shrugged. "Why merchants?"
"Because everyone needs us eventually," she said with a sly grin. "Potions, gear repairs, rare mats, auction arbitrage. A single shipment of ore from me can crash the market or make someone rich. I don't swing swords—I own them."
I leaned forward. "And I kill the people who own them. Sounds like we're natural allies."
Her smile softened. "Or natural enemies."
The air between us tightened—not hostile, but charged. Like the pause before a coin flip.
Over the next hour, we traded stories. She explained how she'd been running trade routes between cities, negotiating with guilds, and already building a network of crafters who relied on her. I told her, vaguely, about stabbing rats, assassinating corrupt captains, and how I think we can further cooperate.
She laughed so hard at that last part she almost spilled her drink.
By the time we left the tavern, my Relationship Meter pinged:
[Lyra Relationship +15]
I wasn't sure if that meant friendship, alliance, or something more. But I knew I wanted to see her again.
Of course, fate—or maybe the devs—couldn't leave me in peace.
As we walked back through the market, a group of players blocked our path. Heavy armor, matching guild tags: Iron Fist.
Their leader, a slab of meat named Crusher (Level 7 Warrior), sneered. "Well, look who we found. The little sewer rat himself."
"Shade," Lyra murmured, tension in her voice. "They're trouble."
I sighed. "Aren't they always?"
Crusher drew his axe. "There's thirty silver on your head. That's enough for my guild's next round of gear. Hand yourself over, and maybe we won't make this hurt."
I drew Shadowfang, the dagger whispering hungrily. "Hurt me? Buddy, the last guy who said that ended up hay for the horses."
Combat engaged.
Crusher (Level 7 Warrior)
Iron Fist Grunt x2 (Level 5 Fighters)
Me? Level 6 Assassin. Lyra? Level 5 Merchant—aka combat useless.
"Get behind me," I muttered.
"Excuse me?" she snapped. "I have better things to do than play damsel!"
Before I could argue, she yanked a small vial from her pack and smashed it on the ground. Smoke exploded, covering the street.
[Merchant Skill: Trade Trickery – Smoke Bomb (Cooldown: 60 sec).]
I blinked. "…Okay, maybe not useless."
Through the smoke, I Shadow Stepped behind a grunt and Backstabbed—crit, dead instantly. The other swung wildly, blinded.
Crusher roared, swinging his axe, clipping me for 40 HP. My health bar dipped, but I coated Shadowfang in poison and slashed across his arm.
[Poison Applied: -10 HP/sec.]
Lyra shouted from the smoke, "Left flank, watch the sweep!"
I ducked just in time as Crusher's axe whooshed overhead. My dagger plunged into his side. Poison ticks stacked. His HP dropped fast.
[Critical Hit – Crusher Defeated.]
The last grunt bolted, screaming. Coward.
The smoke cleared. NPCs screamed and scattered. My Notoriety ticked up again.
Lyra smirked, brushing soot off her sleeve. "See? Not useless."
I stared at her. "You just saved my life with an item shop gimmick."
"Correction: I saved our lives. You still owe me for the vial."
I laughed, shaking my head. "You're impossible."
"And you're wanted," she shot back. "Which makes you very interesting."
System Notification
[Bond Strengthened: Lyra, Merchant.]Relationship Meter: 35/100 (Allied).Unique Bond Trait Unlocked: Shadow Trade – Lyra can fence Shade's stolen goods at higher profit, bypassing standard market taxes.