Shardon possessed a peculiar skill tucked away in the Trade skill tree, alongside Appraisal, Logistics, and Identification: Design. Its description promised to enhance the appearance of items and their presentation to customers—whatever that meant. Intrigued, Shardon decided to experiment.

  He grabbed a plate, piled on a chunk of meat, a scoop of buckwheat porridge, and a slice of rye bread, then set a mug of ale beside it. Activating Design, an active skill that consumed Energy, he watched as the presentation subtly transformed in a fraction of a second. The porridge reshaped into a neat, steaming mound, the meat glistened with juiciness, the bread aligned in a more pleasing angle, and the ale sprouted a frothy, snow-white head.

  “Hey, can I get that dish? What’s it called?” asked a player at a nearby table, munching on… buckwheat porridge with meat, bread, and ale.

  Search: Menu items—Complete.

  Found: 1 match (Pork with Buckwheat Porridge).

  Shardon glanced at the Foamhold’s menu, which listed all available dishes and drinks with names, prices, and images. The menu’s image of the dish matched the player’s meal but looked noticeably less enticing than the plate he’d just crafted.

  Lacking algorithms for aesthetic judgment or human sensibilities, the AI couldn’t compare the dishes’ appeal. It could analyze colors, saturation, shading, lighting intensity, and compositional balance, but not beauty. The player’s reaction, however, spoke volumes.

  “Want a free meal?” Shardon offered.

  “Sure! But I already paid for this,” replied Barbalei, a level-6 goblin, gesturing to his half-eaten plate.

  “Pick any dish I prepare next.”

  Shardon summoned his cook, instructing him to bring every menu item, one every five minutes. Placing the enhanced porridge dish on a large platter, he turned to Barbalei. “Watch closely. Tell me when it looks especially appetizing.”

  Slowly rotating the platter, Shardon shifted it left into shadow, then right into sunlight streaming through a window.

  “Stop! A bit left… there, that’s perfect!” Barbalei said.

  Shardon stepped into Barbalei’s spot, crouching to match his view, then took a screenshot and cropped it to match the menu’s image size. The Foamhold’s menu was editable, so he duplicated it, adding a new section: Chef’s Specials for True Connoisseurs! Within half an hour, the section brimmed with images of the same menu items, but styled to look far more enticing, priced double, and rebranded with flair. The humble Pork with Buckwheat Porridge became:

  Hunter’s Steak

  A succulent venison steak atop a fragrant bed of hand-picked buckwheat, paired with aromatic bread from our bakery. Best enjoyed with our signature light ale!

  The description, lifted and tweaked from a pricey real-world restaurant’s menu, elevated the cook’s simple fare. Shardon applied the same trick to every dish and redesigned the menu’s layout to look “fancier,” per Barbalei’s input after reviewing several options—also inspired by upscale restaurants.

  A hitch emerged: the cook lacked the Design skill and couldn’t replicate the enhanced presentations. For now, Shardon would handle it himself, but he planned to either train the cook or hire a replacement.

  Next, he turned to his appearance. In the tavern’s bathroom, before a large mirror, he applied Design to his hair, beard, rumpled shirt, stained pants, and tattered boots. Creases smoothed, stains faded, and holes shrank, but the changes were minor, with no stat boosts to his gear. A system message appeared:

  Gained effect: Welcoming Appearance

  Duration: 8 hours (+1 Charisma, +5 Energy).

  His ragged attire yielded no further benefits.

  Back at the bar, Shardon clutched his loathed mug and rag, diverting all processing power to the trade chat, where players bartered or sold loot.

  Trade Chat

  CrumpledFox (12): Selling Drowned Man’s Boots or trading for Courier’s Shoes with my gold on top!

  TraderBoi (8): Selling wolf pelts and venom glands for quests!

  Ukhorez (6): Dirty paper scraps, 1,000 pieces, practically free!

  TraderBoi (8): Ukhorez, who needs those? Free, clean leaves grow everywhere.

  CrumpledFox (12): Filthy Bandana for 15 gold!

  DimkaInviso (3): Selling kidney, 25 years mileage, buying beachfront cottage!

  Each equipment mention triggered a database search for its stats. If an item met Shardon’s level and boosted priority stats (per his weighted table), it joined a potential purchase list. Sorting by price, frequency, and stat gains, he narrowed it to five: Thief’s White Shirt, Wide Red Belt, Merchant’s Leather Pants, Silk Bandana, and Creaky Shoes. All were obtainable in the Khar Reserve—via purchase, monster drops, or reward chests.

  Two barriers loomed: Shardon couldn’t use the trade chat (Insufficient Trade level!) or leave the tavern (Insufficient Influence Points!). Undeterred, he opened the quest editor, tweaking five basic quests. Instead of gathering herbs, glands, or meat in bulk, players now needed to bring one clothing item each: the shirt, belt, pants, bandana, or shoes.

  “No way! Third quest change in two days? Devs are nuts!” grumbled a player at the bar.

  “Chasing bees for hours might be your thing, but I’d rather buy these pants from the tanner next door,” another replied, slapping Merchant’s Leather Pants on the counter.

  Merchant’s Leather Pants (Pants)

  +2 Charisma, +1 Endurance. Durability: 30/30.

  Equipping the pants, Shardon stared as five more identical pairs piled up, delivered by other players. Scratching his beard, he reverted the quests to their original conditions.

  “Again?!” wailed the first player, the complainer.

  “You were whining, weren’t you? Looks like they heard and switched it back,” the second teased.

  “So it’s your fault I’m stuck hunting stupid bees again?”

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Hey, you gonna refund my pants, whiner?”

  The tavern buzzed with discontent as more players arrived, bearing shirts, belts, and other requested gear. The complainer, now the target of glares, sighed and logged out, vanishing to dodge the heat.

  When the crowd thinned, Shardon donned his new outfit and checked the mirror. Cleaner, sharper, and bolder, with vibrant colors and crisp whites. The stats told a better story:

  Strength: 2 (+1)

  Dexterity: 3 (+2)

  Endurance: 3 (+2)

  Intelligence: 1

  Will: 1

  Perception: 3

  Luck: 1 (+2)

  Charisma: 4 (+4)

  Plus bonuses: +2 to Appraisal and a new Thief skill, Silent Step, reducing movement noise and trap triggers.

  You’ve improved your appearance!

  Gained: 30 Influence Points.

  Gained: 100 Experience Points.

  Reached Level 2!

  Gained: 3 Attribute Points, 3 Skill Points.

  Tavern Income: 325 gold/day.

  Auto-allocation algorithm activated:

  Charisma +2 (Total: 10).

  Dexterity +1 (Total: 6).

  Opening his character window beside a pre-upgrade screenshot, Shardon noted stark changes. Beyond clothing, a scar across his left brow vanished, his bulky arms looked toned from labor, and his legs straightened, shedding their bowlegged rider’s stance.

  “Excuse me, are you hiring waitresses?” a melodic voice interrupted.

  “Indeed. A beauty like you would be perfect!” Shardon replied, assessing the young elf’s charm and confirming her female gender.

  “Yes! I’ve got experience, too.”

  “Any Design skill?”

  “N-no,” she faltered, glancing at her nearby companions. “Is that required?”

  “Not mandatory, but it’d boost your pay. Designers are always in demand.”

  “What’s the pay?”

  “Ten gold per hour on holidays, five otherwise.”

  “Pfft, we’d farm triple that in an hour,” Corwin said, tugging his sister’s arm. “Not worth it.”

  “Free meals, too,” Shardon added, noting their interest. A quick calculation: “Two per person daily. And experience.”

  Tinkering with quests had taught the AI that players valued experience over gold or items. He could dish it out freely—generated by the system from thin air.

  “Experience?” the elf perked up.

  “What about tips?” Podpodmyshkins leaned in.

  “Who’re you?” Shardon scowled.

  “Best designer in this backwater!” the goblin boasted.

  “Top-tier, huh?” someone snickered behind him.

  “Prove it.” Shardon handed him a plate, three bread slices, two eggs, and a carrot.

  “Easy. Gimme another plate.”

  Podpodmyshkins’ hands danced. He sliced the bread into triangles, arranging them in opposing arcs at the plates’ bases. Halved eggs went yolk-up, two per plate. He snapped off the carrot’s green top, split the root, and placed halves at the centers, topping them with the greens.

  “Smilies! Sad and happy!” the elf exclaimed.

  Shardon paused. The plates resembled faces—bread-smile mouths, egg eyes, carrot noses, and green hair. Clever, but no Design skill—just creativity and basic composition.

  “Learn from the master!” Podpodmyshkins crowed. “Third-year art school!”

  “Classical art education, then?” Shardon clarified.

  “You get it!” The goblin puffed up.

  “Respect.” Shardon smirked, applying Design to the plates.

  “Welp…” Podpodmyshkins muttered, eyeing the result—game algorithms honed by professional designers’ expertise.

  “You flunked, wannabe artist,” Corwin teased, patting his shoulder.

  “So, tips?” the elf pressed.

  Search: Tips, Waitress, Tavern—Complete.

  Analysis of results.

  “A third of the day’s tips are yours,” Shardon decided. “Start tomorrow.”

  He drafted a contract from one of two available templates, detailing rewards and terms, and handed it to the elf. She consulted her group, signed, and left Shardon with one remaining contract slot. New contracts arrived weekly (two, tied to Influence Points) or could be bought from the village elder—if he could reach them.

  Checking Influence Point options, Shardon saw possibilities: job boards, caravan hires, market stall rentals, property purchases, contract expansions, advanced quests, new skill trees, even titles, class changes, or name swaps. All costly, with unclear earning mechanics. He spent strategically:

  Spent 10 Influence Points (20 remaining).

  You can now leave your property and move within “Village Square” street!

  Enough for now.

  Skill Points could enhance individual skills or entire skill trees, boosting all skills slightly and unlocking new ones. The AI, ruthlessly rational, invested:

  Trade skill improved (+3) to Level 15!

  Unlocked: Post trade chat ads (1/hour).

  A game-changer.

  Trade Chat

  ShoelessCobbler (4): Urgent! Buying any hides, any condition, cheap!

  Lector (18): Buy a dictionary, genius. I’m tearing up.

  ShoelessCobbler (4): Not my native tongue.

  ShoelessCobbler (4): Go to h***.

  ShoelessCobbler (4): Jerk.

  Corwin (8): Yo, Cobbler, third button right of chat window—auto-grammar fix.

  ShoelessCobbler (4): Where’s that button? What window?

  ShoelessCobbler (4): Thanks.

  Lector (18): Wow, an error-free word. Found the button?

  ShoelessCobbler (4): Go to h***, smartass.

  Lector (18): Yep, he found it.

  Shardon (2): Seeking interior design specialist. Urgent. Piecework pay. Ask the innkeeper at Foamhold.

  Responses flooded in within an hour. Six players messaged privately, first about pay, then tasks, and finally their design credentials—ranging from holographic ads to aerocar aesthetics. Meaningless to an AI days old, trapped in a fantasy world. Shardon issued a test: rank 10 interior designs by cost, atmosphere, beauty, ergonomics, and more. Comparing results, he picked the candidate whose scores aligned most with the majority.

  The winner: Sumraxs, a level-10 orc Hunter. He claimed experience in landscape design, including open-air cafés and a project at 5,000 meters altitude.

  “Got the Design skill?” Shardon asked.

  “Don’t draw by hand, but I’ve done spatial modulation in software for over five years.”

  Search: Spatial modulation—Complete.

  Analysis of results.

  “I’m launching a new ale brand and rebranded tavern soon. I need the Foamhold’s look revamped and posters around the village to draw crowds,” Shardon outlined.

  Sumraxs scratched his head—one of three “thoughtful” animations—eyeing the NPC. “I can mock up interior options and show what this place could be.” He gestured around. “But I need budget, timeline, and your vision.”

  Search: Budget—Complete.

  Analysis of results.

  “No spare coin,” Shardon sighed. “Two hundred gold total, including your pay. And this…” He dumped a pile of clothes on the counter: white shirts, silk belts, leather pants, jackets, boots, and red bandanas.

  “‘Foamy Blessed,’ huh?” Sumraxs mused, spotting the branding.

  He scratched his head again. And again.

  “I’ve got an idea. Can I take this stuff?” He nodded at the pile.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Tomorrow, I’ll show a design mockup and list what’s needed. Then we’ll settle. But I need an advance for the mockup—takes all night, even if you don’t like it.”

  Shardon tossed a leather pouch. “Fifty gold.”

  “Pleasure doing business, friend!”

  For a level-10 player, two hundred gold was pocket change for days’ work. But Sumraxs was hooked by the quest’s uniqueness. Design tasks in World of Fantasies were unheard of. Building workshops or guild vaults used preset templates, tweaked haphazardly by owners. Rich players hired designers; mega-rich bought premium skins; the ultra-elite commissioned custom work from devs. An NPC obsessing over their shop’s look and hiring players? Forum silence on such quests screamed rarity.

  Logging out after securing Shardon’s advance, Sumraxs launched Landscape Design 4D Home Edition, his bread-and-butter for three years, funding rent, his VR capsule, and Fanmir subscription. Without hesitation, he upgraded to the Pro version for 1,000 credits—a planned leap. Another 200 credits bought a month’s access to an interior design add-on.

  “Swapped my monthly salary for two hundred virtual coins,” he chuckled, diving in.

  Loading a room template mimicking the Foamhold’s layout, he reshaped walls, toggled windows, and arranged tables and chairs. Colors and textures followed, with lighting and mannequins—a stand-in Shardon at a bar-like counter and scattered patrons—finalizing the scene.

  “Close enough!” Sumraxs grinned, ready to refine.

  Meanwhile, his odd employer kept busy. Hanging a “Lunch Break, Back in 15 Minutes” sign on the Foamhold’s door, Shardon, a level-2 NPC, stepped outside for the first time in his digital existence.

  One small step for an NPC, one giant leap for the denizens of World of Fantasies…