"You've had a long ride. Hair's filthy, full of dust… and red streaks too? Don't tell me that's blood."
Halo found himself with an old bald man seated on a bench before a building, Frey.
He sat there basking in the attention of several ladies, his cheeks flushed crimson as he refused to let go of their bosoms. The man looked over fifty, but the confidence of a twenty-year-old with a six-pack he definitely didn't have.
Halo had no interest in perverted bastards… but this perverted bastard clearly knew things. So, fine. Endure and extract information. Leave with dignity intact, or at least 60% of it.
Halo wore a rehearsed smile.
"I know it looks fake, but it's real. My real hair… crazy, huh?"
Frey's expression darkened. "Wait, that's your real hair? Damn, I thought it was dirt. I'd shave my head before walking around like that."
Halo's eye twitched.
This man was bald. BALD. Yet boldly insulting hair like he had a ponytail hidden somewhere.
He sighed, forced a smile, and touched his hair dramatically, like a shampoo commercial in a drought.
"At least I'm not bald…"
Frey turned, confused. "What did you say?"
Halo's sarcasm evaporated instantly. "Nothing, Mr. Frey. I'm just envious of your bald head."
Frey sneered and shooed the ladies away, like someone who believed he was too important for an audience he absolutely needed to survive.
Frey's way of life sparked countless questions.
In the game, NPCs had purposes. Beggars begged. Prophets prophesied. Sages sage, well, no, but they acted wise.
But flirt-with-every-woman-who-breathes? That was new.
Could he even call them NPCs? They were… painfully alive.
"I'm a Knight, you know. Most people don't even make it past their first Purpose, and hardly anyone gathers the Sin Fragments to climb ranks. But me? I did. I'm a big deal out here. In all the safe lands in Voiceless, they recognize me… the ladies too."
Halo scowled. Was this man okay?
More importantly, why did the gods allow him to live this long?
Frey relaxed on his bench. "…What do you want? Women? Ha, with that ragged hide? You couldn't get a rat to smile at you. But relax, you're in safe hands. Five Sin Fragments, and I'll get you any lady you want."
Halo smiled in realization.
The kind of smile that said: I understand everything… and also regret being born.
Most gods were elusive, but some people served the god of lust. Halo had expected seductive women with dangerous chests, not an elderly man with wandering hands and delusions of charm.
But Frey's behavior brought another thought.
The hero was tall, handsome, dark-haired, golden-eyed, red earring, someone women actually would follow.
Of course Frey had heard of him. Even he couldn't miss the local superstar.
Halo let his rigid nature fade and settled beside Frey.
Muscles loosening. Mind racing. Staring up at the moon that looked like it badly needed to grow up.
"You've got an eye for your trade, that's why you couldn't ignore me, huh? I need some women, just not for myself."
He tilted his head and locked eyes with Frey. Frey stared back, confused but curious, like a raccoon sensing a shiny object.
Halo smirked.
"I'm certain you've seen him before. No one forgets Asterion, and his companions wouldn't dare call him by any other name."
Frey frowned. "What kind of moron are you? Do I look like someone who collects male friends? And who goes around handing out surnames?"
Halo exhaled hard.
Finding one man in three entire regions with JUST a surname was starting to feel like stupidity in high definition.
"He may have shared it with you out of comradeship, but nothing in this world is free. Only those who've stopped fearing death share anything."
The hero had crossed Voiceless, Ashen Ages, and the Unknown.
Which made Halo realize something terrifying:
He had no idea where he was.
Worse… what if the hero was already fighting gods while Halo was stuck babysitting a bald flirt?
His thoughts froze.
A sudden realization.
A spark.
The red earring.
It wasn't common, and not subtle, either. Not forgettable.
"I work under him, yeah. Normally, he drops ten, maybe twenty, Sin Fragments on a lady. If she's heard the name, that is."
Frey's eyes widened so much Halo feared they'd fall out and roll across the floor.
Saliva gathered. He was imagining Sin Fragments like they were plates of food.
"Dark hair, golden eyes, and a long red earring," Halo added.
The excitement drained from Frey's face faster than hair from a stressed man's scalp.
"Long red earring, huh?"
Halo's heart skipped.
He stared at Frey like his life depended on the next sentence.
"That's your master? Then what are you doing here?"
Halo's stomach dropped.
Had the hero already left the region? Was Halo that far behind?
"What do you mean?"
Frey sighed.
The world's collective disappointment rolled off him.
"I saw someone like that once, out by the coastal lands. He was… magnificent, surrounded by Knights and Assassins who looked ready to die for him. If that's Asterion, I can't blame anyone for mistaking him for a god."
Frey clenched his teeth. "Tsk. Those bastards snatched my women." He spat on the ground.
"I will never give out my women to those arrogant hides."
Halo ran a hand through his hair in despair, gently this time, after all the insults it had endured today.
He was behind. Way behind.
But Frey had given something: a direction.
"Your master left you behind, huh? Must sting. A few Knights are heading to the coastal lands soon, maybe they'll take pity on you," Frey said.
Halo's tail twitched uncontrollably, excitement kicking in even though nothing had happened yet.
"Yeah. Prove you're worth something. Fight one of them. Weaklings are dead weight."
Halo exhaled, straightening.
The words cut deep, but they also sharpened him.
His eyes scanned the moonlit streets. No time to hesitate.
"In this world, no one casts the stone, lad. Don't worry."
Those words were deep. He didn't expect that much from a perverted old fart.