We decided to walk to the Esplanade instead of taking our vehicles. I had already paid for a full day of parking, and I did not know if leaving the carpark meant paying again. Besides, I had no desire to drive through those narrow walking streets a second time.

  The Esplanade, otherwise known as Theatres on the Bay, was a huge four-storey complex that, from the outside, looked like two giant durians squatting by the water, their spiky sunshades catching the light like armor.

  It housed performance halls and used to run regular shows. Events like plays, concerts, artsy installations. The kind of thing you either genuinely enjoyed or nodded along to because your friend dragged you there and you did not want to look uncultured.

  I had never been one of the people who truly got it, but I knew the place well enough.

  And right now, that was where we were headed.

  I had my [Pathfinder] skill running and followed the projected route on my mini-map. When I first activated it back at the café, I noticed something different straight away. The skill window had changed.

  Before, [Pathfinder] did one thing. You thought of a destination, and it plotted a route.

  Now it came with options.

  Shortest route. Longest route. Least mobs. And an input field for instructions, like I was giving directions to a very literal GPS.

  That made me pause for a moment.

  I pinged Eva.

  She replied that the skill had upgraded because of my level.

  Huh.

  I had not realized skills could evolve like that. I always assumed you either unlocked something new, or you did not. Nobody had told me “congratulations, your navigation app now has premium features.”

  So I fed [Pathfinder] a simple instruction: least NPCs.

  Which was how we ended up moving like ghosts through the city.

  We took back alleys, service lanes, the dead space between skyscrapers where sunlight barely reached. We cut through a parking garage, slipped behind a row of buildings, and followed routes that felt less like streets and more like the parts of town only delivery riders knew.

  The upside was that it was quieter.

  The downside was that everyone had an opinion.

  “This is not a route,” Shawn complained for the third time. “This is a side quest.”

  Siva grumbled something about my “cheapness” and “paranoia” in the same sentence.

  Even Jess gave me a look that said I understand why, but also, please stop making my life difficult.

  Farisyah, on the other hand, treated it like the best thing that had happened all morning.

  She had her face guard back on and she was holding my hand, having decided she wanted to walk with me instead of Farah. Every few steps she would tug at my fingers and point excitedly at something. A weird creature with huge eyes peering from a doorway. A hanging neon sign flickering in a service corridor. A narrow staircase that vanished up between two buildings like a secret level.

  She could not speak, but she made up for it with enthusiasm.

  It was… oddly grounding.

  The scavenger list still sat in my HUD, tucked into its folder, pulsing softly where I could not quite ignore it. I knew the others were thinking about it too, even if nobody said it out loud.

  The plan for the day was simple.

  We would finish our escort quest, then meet Monica at her place for a house viewing. If it worked for what we needed, we would settle in and only then sit down properly to plan how we were going to tackle the list. There was some… weird stuff in there. We needed to think before we moved.

  There wasn’t any time limit, so there wasn’t any immediate pressure.

  And from what we had seen so far, no mobs lurking around corners waiting to jump us. For once, nobody had tried to kill us before lunchtime. That alone felt like a luxury.

  We passed other survivors from the West as we walked. They stood out the moment you saw them. The way they moved. The way their eyes kept scanning. The same tight, bewildered look we probably wore when we first awoke in the North.

  I considered walking over. Saying hi. Offering to point them in the right direction.

  Then I remembered the whole Four Horsemen thing.

  So I kept going.

  We also saw other humans who clearly belonged here. People who looked settled. Comfortable. They ran food stalls, carried crates, argued over prices, and went about their business like it was any other day. Once we delivered Farisyah to the Bard’s Guild, I wanted to talk to them. I wanted to know how they had adjusted so quickly. How you reached a point where neon signs and fantasy creatures in suits became background noise.

  Because despite the garish lights and loud music we had encountered at the sector entrance, The Bay felt lived in. Not just occupied. Lived in. Normal, in its own warped way.

  This was not like the North, where everything screamed wrong the moment you stepped outside. Here, the changes blended into the familiar. The South did not feel like a ruined world.

  It felt like a city that had simply… updated.

  My thoughts were interrupted by a sharp tug on my hand.

  Farisyah pointed excitedly at a rat-like creature that darted across the path, skittering from one drain opening to another before vanishing into the dark.

  Well. No matter how much the world changed, one thing stayed constant.

  In Singapore, you could never get rid of the rodent problem.

  It took us about forty-five minutes of walking to reach the Esplanade.

  Shawn grumbled the whole way, mostly about how it would have taken twenty minutes if we had just used the normal route. He took a long drink from a water bottle he pulled out of his inventory, like he was trying to drown his complaints.

  The afternoon sun hung bright and high by the time we stood in front of the main entrance. We glanced at each other, shrugged, and pushed the doors open.

  I had been expecting guards. Or a checkpoint. At least some kind of security.

  Instead, we stepped into a polished entrance hall with a wide counter at the front. It looked less like a theatre and more like a customer service desk in a mall, or a reception area in a corporate building. The marble tiles were spotless. The lighting was warm and flattering. The whole space gave off a vibe of opulence and quiet money.

  We walked up to the counter.

  A fashionably dressed young human woman sat behind it, apparently doing her nails. Her name tag read DIANA.

  So… no phones in the South either.

  “Uh… hi?” I started, leaning slightly over the counter.

  Diana looked up and gave me a warm, professional smile. “Hi. How can I help you today?”

  “Uh,” I said again, because my brain was still adjusting to the fact that this was playing out like an actual front desk interaction. “We have a little girl here who needs to be enrolled into the Bard’s Guild.”

  Farah stepped up beside me and lifted Farisyah slightly so she could be seen. Farisyah waved enthusiastically with one hand, her face guard still strapped on.

  Diana waved back, then her eyes flickered for a moment. Just a tiny flash, like a HUD notification reflected behind her gaze.

  “Of course,” she said smoothly. “Please wait a moment. A representative will be with you shortly.”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  I figured she had the chat function too and had just pinged someone.

  I messaged Jess to come over. The rest of the team had drifted off almost immediately, looking at posters of the various artistes that had performed here. I recognized a few names from before. Local singers. International acts. And then others I did not recognize at all, with names that sounded distinctly non-human.

  While we waited, I did what I always did when I needed information but could not ask the real question outright.

  I made small talk.

  “So… how long have you been working here?” I asked.

  “Oh, I’m a temp,” Diana replied easily. “I’ve been here on and off for the last few years while I finish my degree.”

  Jess arrived at the counter right on cue, took in the situation, and immediately caught on.

  “Ah, nice,” she said, friendly enough to pass as normal. “How is it travelling here? Must be a hassle with all the traffic.”

  Diana laughed softly. “Not really. I live in Tanjong Pagar, so it’s quite nearby. I cycle over most days.”

  “That’s great,” I said, nodding like we were just making conversation. “So you have been all over Singapore then. Ever cycle up to the zoo?”

  Diana blinked. “Sing…a…pore? The zoo?”

  “Yeah,” I said lightly. “Mandai. Singapore Zoo. Everyone has been there at least once, right? School trip, family trip, something.”

  Her smile stayed, but it shifted. A tiny hesitation. Like she was searching a mental folder that was not there.

  “I… do not think I know that place,” she said carefully. “Is it new?”

  Jess’s eyes flicked to me.

  “We are from Woodlands,” Jess said, keeping her tone casual. “It is up north. That is why it took us so long to get here.”

  Diana frowned, not in suspicion, but in genuine confusion. “I have never heard of Woodlands either. Is it a new development?”

  “Yeah,” I said quickly. “Yeah. New. Just came up.”

  I gave Jess a look to confirm what we were both thinking.

  This human did not know the North existed.

  I was tempted to push further, to ask her what her country’s map looked like in her head, but someone cleared their throat behind us.

  We turned.

  Coming down the side staircase was a gnome.

  He was about four to five feet tall, with a massive head of hair that looked like it had lost a fight with a glitter bomb. Sequins caught the light every time he moved. He was dressed in a gold sequined dinner jacket, white bell-bottom trousers, and platform shoes that added at least another two inches of confidence. There was no shirt under the jacket.

  He strutted toward the reception counter like the floor belonged to him.

  Shawn and Siva stared, bug-eyed.

  Shawn: Stereotypical much?

  I suppressed a groan and we moved to meet him halfway before Shawn’s commentary in chat could continue.

  The gnome stopped in front of us, smiled warmly, then pressed a hand to his chest, open-palmed and theatrical. I noticed he was wearing a number of rings, not dissimilar to my Ring of Dexterity.

  “Welcome, my friends,” he said. “I am Armand, head of the Bard’s Guild here.”

  His voice carried the way performers’ voices did. Not loud exactly, but somehow impossible to ignore.

  “I hear you have a young talent in your midst.” His eyes swept over us in quick succession. Siva. Shawn. Jess. A brief pause on me that felt like judgement.

  He gave my Mr. Big tee-shirt a faintly disapproving look, like it was personally offending his aesthetic.

  Then his gaze landed on Farisyah.

  “Oh,” he said, softening instantly as he stepped closer. “And what do we have here?”

  He crouched slightly, studying her for a second with the kind of focused attention that made me feel like he was reading more than just her expression. Farisyah held still, face guard strapped on, eyes wide and curious.

  Armand tilted his head.

  “Now then,” he said lightly, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. “Who is her manager?”

  Farah blinked.

  “I guess… that would be me,” she said, stepping up behind Farisyah.

  “Great!” Armand said, lightly clapping his hands. It was more of a gesture than applause, like he was punctuating his own sentence.

  “We will need her to take the test, of course. And I would love to administer it immediately,” he continued, eyes twinkling as he looked at Farisyah. “Though I suspect for our little miss here, it will be a formality.”

  “Test?” Shawn echoed, suspicion sharpening his voice. “What kind of test?”

  “No need to fret, Necromancer.” Armand waved a hand as if brushing away the concern. “Though I do think you would do well here too, if we did not have such stringent entry requirements. You have a certain…” He paused, eyes sliding over Shawn with theatrical appreciation. “Charm.”

  Shawn looked like he had been slapped and complimented at the same time.

  Armand turned and beckoned us with two quick flicks of his fingers. “Come. Follow.”

  We just stood there for a second, stuck on one thing.

  Necromancer.

  Armand had said it like it was obvious. Like Shawn had been wearing a name tag.

  We shook it off and followed anyway, because Farah was already moving. She led the way with Farisyah close beside her, holding on to her hand firmly.

  My chat lit up.

  Siva: How did he know Shawn’s class?

  Shawn: My parent class. My actual class is Grave Digger. That should have been what he saw. But he knew.

  Chris: Jess, can you study him?

  Jess: I can’t. I can only do that to party members.

  Siva: Are we seriously going to follow him? Just like this?

  Chris: It’s Farah’s call. So far we haven’t met outright mobs or people trying to kill us.

  Siva: Yeah, I know, but…

  Farah: Let’s see what this test is first. We can run if we have to. Or… fight.

  That last word sat there for a moment, awkward and heavy, like Farah had not wanted to type it but also refused to pretend it was not an option.

  We followed him into an empty theatre on the second floor.

  We entered from the top, the way audiences always did, and the space opened up beneath us in a gentle slope of seats leading down toward the stage. Rows of plush chairs sat in neat lines, armrests polished from years of hands. The aisles cut clean paths through the seating, lit by small floor lights that glowed softly, more for guidance than brightness. Up front, the stage stretched wide and dark, framed by heavy curtains and flanked by tall speakers.

  Armand gestured for us to sit about seven rows back.

  Then he pointed at Farah and Farisyah. “You two. With me.”

  Farah hesitated only for a beat before guiding Farisyah down the steps and toward the stage. Armand led them up, moving with the casual confidence of someone who owned the room.

  I slid into a seat and took a slow look around.

  It was a proper theatre setup. Steep seating. Focused sightlines. A stage built to make every eye naturally lock forward. The kind of place designed to control attention without anyone noticing it happening.

  And then I spotted what did not belong.

  Near the back of the stage were rows of pedestals, spaced evenly like a gallery display. They were modelled after Roman columns. On top of each pedestal sat a transparent box, glass or plastic, the edges catching the stage lights.

  From where we were seated, I could not make out the details. Only shapes.

  Something sat inside each box, displayed the way you would display jewelry at an auction. Or artefacts in a museum. Or prizes in a game show, waiting for the contestant to earn the right to touch them.

  A haptic buzz rattled through my skull, sharp and familiar, like I had left my phone on vibrate in my pocket.

  My HUD pulsed at the same time.

  I did not need to guess what it was. I snapped my attention to the bottom of my view and the scavenger hunt folder was flashing harder than it had all morning. Not a gentle reminder anymore. This was urgent.

  I knew the rest of them got it too. Everyone opened the folder almost in sync.

  One line had changed.

  [Item 18: Lightstick] was pulsing red.

  Shawn: Erm… anybody see what this is supposed to be?

  Farah: It’s right here on stage. Inside one of the boxes. Third box from the left. But… it’s really more of a hammer.

  From seven rows back, all I could see were blurry shapes behind clear plastic.

  I equipped [Deadeye Scope] and the world sharpened.

  Farah was right. It was a lightstick.

  And not just any lightstick.

  It was that lightstick.

  The one I had seen a hundred times online. The one I had secretly wanted to buy at least twice, then talked myself out of it because I did not want to have to explain to my wife that, apparently, I had become a Blink.

  It had a glossy black handle shaped like a short baton, chunky enough to sit in your fist like a weapon. At the top, two pink rounded ends flared out on either side like a cartoon hammerhead. Cute, obnoxious, and unmistakable. Even from a distance you could see the faint heart-like curves, the kind of design that screamed concert merch while also looking like it could crack someone’s skull if you swung it hard enough.

  It looked ridiculous.

  It looked iconic.

  It looked like Blackpink had left their calling card in the middle of the Bard Guild.

  I lowered my scope slowly.

  Of course, the System picked this as an item.

  Of course it did.

  My quick study of it also dragged up the conditions attached.

  [Blink’s Lightstick. Item 18 of 20]

  [This item is encased in a damage-proof security box]

  [This is an item you can only win. Not purchase, nor steal.]

  [Win Condition: A dance recital worthy of Blackpink]

  Shawn: Alright. Let’s wait till this is over. I’ll distract the glitter gnome, and we make a grab for it.

  I turned slowly in my seat and kept my voice low. “We can’t.”

  Shawn frowned. Siva and Jess leaned in.

  “I saw the conditions when I studied it,” I continued. “We can’t steal it, and that box is damage-proof.”

  Siva’s whisper came sharp. “Then what’s the condition?”

  I hesitated for half a second.

  “Uh…” I started, then sighed. “So…”

  I glanced at them, already regretting my life.

  “Anybody up for a dance recital?”

  No one answered.

  Shawn blinked slowly.

  Jess’s face went blank, then her eyes sharpened. She was deciding whether to kill me.

  I grinned.

  About Blackpink

  Jisoo, Jennie, Rosé, and Lisa. They debuted in 2016 with the single album Square One (the one with “Boombayah” and “Whistle”), and they have been one of the biggest names in K-pop globally ever since.

  ahem… their music videos.