He Xinyi did not receive her second wall-clipping attempt right away.
First, she received a questionnaire.
[GRAYHARBOR ANOMALOUS-AREA SAFETY CONFIRMATION] [DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT TOUCHING ANOTHER PERSON’S BELONGINGS WITHOUT PERMISSION MAY CAUSE THE TEST TO FAIL?] [DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT PURSUING A FRIGHTENED TARGET MAY PROVOKE EXTREME BEHAVIOR?] [DO YOU AGREE TO STOP IMMEDIATELY IF THE ASSIGNED GUIDE TERMINATES THE TEST?] Xinyi checked YES three times.
The comments beside her mechanical camera-eye dissolved into laughter.
[Forty-Seven Steps is having another episode.] [Imagine signing informed consent to walk through a wall.
Skyglass really loves paperwork.] [Hurry up, streamer.
This easter egg is our ticket to the trending page.] “One final condition.” Mia raised her hand.
“You may publish everything that occurs in the test area.
You may not edit out my termination order.” Xinyi lifted an eyebrow.
“Is that a system rule?” “It is my rule.” The streamer studied her for two seconds, then smiled.
“Fine.” Mia did not smile back.
Two players were approaching from the far end of the dock.
The same quest marker hung over both of them, small and bright as nails driven through the morning fog.
[TRACK THE STOLEN COPPERWOOD NAMEPLATE] [TARGET: VERSION SCAVENGER AMON] [DESCRIPTION: A VILE THIEF HAS STOLEN A COMMEMORATIVE NAMEPLATE BELONGING TO THE COPPERWOOD ARTISANS’ ASSOCIATION.
RECOVER THE STOLEN PROPERTY TO RECEIVE A HIDDEN-CLASS CLUE.] [REWARD: ONE OLD NAMEPLATE FROM AMON’S BELT] The players could not see that Amon was a name.
They saw an orange rarity border and the words HIDDEN CLASS.
Amon crouched on top of the tutorial sign.
Her laugh stopped.
Thirteen thin copper plates hung from her belt.
Half a name remained on each.
Some were charred; others had been worn smooth at the corners.
When she walked, they struck one another with small, bright notes, like a crowd without voices still trying to speak.
“I didn’t steal them,” Amon said.
One player had already drawn a grappling launcher.
“The quest says you did.
Don’t argue logic with an NPC.” Mia stepped into the line of fire.
“Good morning.
Grayharbor safety regulations require four confirmations before the use of capture equipment.” “Move,” the player said.
“First, identify the person you intend to capture.” “Amon.” “Second, identify the original owner of the allegedly stolen plate.” “The quest doesn’t say.” “Third, state when the theft occurred.” The player tightened his grip.
“Are you ever going to shut up?” “Fourth, provide evidence that the owner is still in existence.” He fired.
Mia turned her head half a step before the hook arrived.
Iron teeth skimmed her ear and buried themselves in the tutorial sign.
Amon used the impact to spring down and run for the old warehouse.
The second player lunged after her.
Mia lowered her cane across his path.
“The confirmation process is incomplete.” “Your tutorial can’t be skipped, and now you’re regulating murder too?” “Grayharbor welcomes all properly documented acts of pursuit,” Mia said pleasantly.
“Yours is not properly documented.” She made herself into a door.
Players could not attack the assigned guide directly inside the beginner zone.
They tried to shove her aside.
Each time the system nudged Mia back toward her station, she walked the shortest route into their path and asked the same question.
“Please provide evidence that the owner is still in existence.” “Please provide evidence that the owner is still in existence.” “Please provide—” “You’re unbearable!” One player kicked the tutorial desk.
“Switch instances.” Two pillars of white light went out.
Xinyi stared.
“Did you just make them rage-quit with mandatory questions?” “I ensured that the pursuit followed legal procedure.” “The game lets players travel all this way for nothing?” Mia looked toward the warehouse.
One eye flashed in the crack between its doors.
“The system has already offered a person’s name as payment,” she said.
“A wasted trip is not the worst available outcome.” The stream went quiet for a breath.
Then the comments buried her sentence beneath HIDDEN LORE and NPC PERSONALITY UPDATE.
Mia asked Xinyi to wait and entered the warehouse alone.
Rain leaked through the roof.
Amon had curled herself behind a dead boiler, all thirteen nameplates clutched against her chest.
Cold drops struck the rusted shell one by one.
She let the water soak one shoulder rather than shift toward the dry floor.
The copper had darkened with her body heat.
She had traded those plates for bread, bootlaces, and shelter from one night’s rain.
Mia had never before seen her hold them without calculating a price.
“They’ll come back,” Amon said.
“Yes.” “The quest won’t go away.” “Not yet.” “Where am I supposed to run?” Mia did not choose for her.
She spread a Grayharbor map on the floor and indicated three places: the announcement layer, Tasha’s machine shop, and an abandoned air pipe beyond the wall.
“The announcement layer offers the best concealment, but version cleanup will reach it first.
Tasha’s shop has people who can protect you, which brings them into the pursuit.
The air pipe crosses the boundary.
Star ash outside will damage your lungs, and we have no evidence that the area beyond the root anchor is safe from deletion.” Amon stared at the map.
“Can’t you tell me which one is best?” “No.
You will bear the consequences.” It was the first time Mia had said that to someone else.
She had spent years marking arrows, clearing routes, and locking choices that might inconvenience a newcomer.
That was called guidance.
It also meant no one truly chose.
Amon sat without moving for a long time.
Then she unfastened the smallest plate from her belt.
Only one character of the old name survived on its face.
On the back, a shallow number remained: A-M-07.
“This one’s mine,” Amon said.
“I’m going into the announcement layer.
You keep this.” Mia accepted the plate.
“Why?” “If the update forgets me, use it to find me.” A system prompt opened at once.
[QUEST ITEM TRANSFER DETECTED.] [PURSUIT TARGET UPDATED: BEGINNER TUTORIAL GUIDE MIA GREYLIGHT.] Mia had become part of the reward.
Outside, Xinyi’s camera-eye snapped toward the warehouse door.
On her stream interface, the orange marker vanished from Amon and appeared over Mia.
The comments erupted.
[Knew she was a hidden boss!] [Killing Forty-Seven Steps drops a class item?] [First thing I do in 2.0: come back to Grayharbor.] Xinyi did not leave.
She enlarged the quest details to confirm whether killing Mia would truly drop the plate.
The reward field changed while she watched.
[REWARD: DELIVERY SUBJECT TO CURRENT HOLDER’S CONSENT.] “That line wasn’t there before,” Xinyi said.
Mia could see it too.
Amon’s voluntary transfer had changed more than the target.
For one moment, the task had been forced to record a choice.
Perhaps Mia’s hazardous-property authority had caused it.
Perhaps the system could not completely erase the fact that Amon had handed the plate over herself.
The two players returned after changing instances.
Three White Crown members accompanied them.
This time they stayed beyond the yellow line and began with an offer.
“One thousand star coins.
Hand over the plate.” Mia turned to Amon.
“Do you consent to the sale?” “No.” Mia faced the players again.
“You heard the owner.” “The quest reward is on you,” a White Crown player said.
“Why ask her?” “Custody did not transfer ownership.” White Crown increased its offer to five thousand.
Amon’s eyes widened at the number.
Her hand remained locked around the warehouse doorframe.
“How much bread is that?” she asked under her breath.
“Approximately thirty-six hundred loaves at today’s price,” Mia answered.
“That would feed me for a long time.” “Yes.” “What do they do with it if I sell?” “Display it, resell it, or open a profession line that identifies you as a thief.” Amon considered the answer.
When she spoke again, her voice carried across the dock.
“Not for sale.” Mia repeated the decision without dressing it in a nobler reason.
White Crown recorded that too.
Some viewers called the NPC stupid.
Others accused the developers of manufacturing scarcity.
For the first time, a few asked why a reward field needed permission from an NPC.
No consensus formed.
The public record still held a sentence that had never belonged there before: the owner said no.
Mia placed the nameplate in the inner pocket closest to her heart.
She did not know whether that heart would still beat in three days.
For this moment, Amon was no one’s reward.
Behind the warehouse door, Amon heard.
She offered no thanks.
She only retied the remaining twelve plates and told Mia, one by one, where she had found each of them.
It was the trust she knew how to give.
It was also a fresh collection of ways to hurt her.