Disclaimer: I don't own Sword Art Online.

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7:07 a.m., September 2, 2024, Floor 48: Lindarth

Lisbeth stifled a yawn as she closed the shop door behind her. Overheard, the soft light of Aincrad's post-dawn hours was slowly gaining in strength, gradually shifting from a wan illumination to a warm glow. This steady transition, revealing the world's beauty piece by piece, nearly made the young smith's routine supply run a pleasant chore on most days.

"..freaking Army brats banging up second-rate swords…expecting my repairs at their beck and call, all hours of the day…eating up my iron reserves with dumb, bulk orders…no consideration for my craft…"

Most days.

"…stupid Kibaou…stupid cactus-head…stupid, stupid, stupid…"

Still, by the time Lisbeth entered the market, the young smith had vented most of her remaining frustrations and was starting to regain some of her sunnier disposition. A light breakfast purchased from a rolling cart went a long way to soothing her drowsy grumblings, and Lisbeth soon found herself enjoying a more contented stroll through the streets.

At this hour, the more ambitious and dedicated Clearers were already exiting inns and player houses, and now roamed the city settling the logistics for their expeditions that day. Lisbeth exchanged several brief greetings with a few regular customers whom she recognized, but mostly she watched quietly with a small smile as hardened players settled into their routines. Good-natured ribbing and calls for parties mingled in the early morning air as the young smith passed by stall after stall of NPC merchants and shopkeepers, many of which had found human patrons looking for new gear or fresh food.

"17 col for a Boar-Meat Sandwich?" one player lamented, eying a vendor menu dubiously, "I could pay 13 for this on Floor 56!" His fellow adventurer laughed, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "The market solves, buddy. Supply and demand, transport and overhead…"

"Looking for Group for a small raid on a Field Boss on Floor 42!" another, lower-leveled swordsman called from atop an upturned crate. "Need a hand leveling up! A Tank would be great!"

Somewhere down the way, Lisbeth caught a glimpse of a few younger children browsing under the watchful eye of their older guardians. "Check out this wooden horse, Daisuke! It's so lifelike!" one of them exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a collection of ornamental wares. "Can we buy it, Mr. Miyagi?" The silver-haired gentleman (a rare sight in Aincrad) standing behind the girl chuckled as he opened up an interface to make the purchase.

Lisbeth's pace slackened as she passed by the group, her brow furrowing slightly as she sighed.

For kids to be trapped in here like us…I can't imagine what it's like for those whose parents aren't here with them.

But Lisbeth was nothing if not a secret optimist. A few moments of consideration soon smoothed her forehead and brought a small perk back to the corners of her lips. At least these little ones seem to be doing alright.

With that thought, the young smith continued on in her daily morning quest, and another minute's walk found her before a merchant's stand set up in front of a small warehouse. As she rang a silver bell, Lisbeth hummed quietly to herself as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

"Good morning, miss!" came a quick reply as an older NPC with wild hair and a bristly beard emerged from the structure. "How can I help you today?"

"Hello, Kaito!" Lisbeth replied brightly. "It's good to see you this morning!"

Most NPC vendors weren't given names by the system, and only a green cursor above their heads provided them with any distinctive identification. "Kaito" was no exception, but however flat-line his personality might be, this particular NPC's appearance reminded Lisbeth of one of her father's friends—a grizzled old veteran who would visit from time to time when she was a child and regale her with tales of fishing on the high seas. As a result, Lisbeth had quickly taken to calling her computer-generated metal-supplier by the same name. She couldn't say why exactly, but it sometimes helped to alleviate a longing for home which would strike on especially bad days.

On top of that, having a routine interaction with someone not weighed down by the burden of living in this Death Game was its own kind of relief…even if that someone wasn't really a someone at all.

As Kaito stood patiently waiting for Lisbeth to respond, the girl shook her head absently. "Well. It's a Monday, so I need a stack of twenty pig-iron ingots, six silver bars, fifty ounces of borax flux—"

Midway through her list, a trade window popped up in front of Lisbeth's eyes, startling her.

"Your usual order, miss?" Kaito said with his polite merchant's smile.

Lisbeth blinked. "Ah, yeah. You remembered it!"

Indeed, the list of offered goods in the virtual window included everything else that Lisbeth ordered on a regular basis, even down to the ten Extra-Fine Whetstones and Floor 28 Mineral Oil.

Smiling, Lisbeth moved to press the «Accept» button in the interface—then paused as she noted the amount of money requested.

"…are you having a sale? This is about five percent less than usual," she said, running some quick calculations in her head.

After a moment of apparent processing, Kaito replied in a simplistically cheery tone, "Special discount for my most regular customer!"

Lisbeth tilted her head. "How about that? I guess there's some kind of recognition protocol in the system." She tapped her chin with a finger. "First I've heard of it, but it makes sense to reward the players who work more on support and crafting than on combat. Some kind of role balancing…"

Kaito continued to stand before the young smith with a blank smile.

After a moment, Lisbeth laughed softly to herself. "Right, I suppose you don't understand any of that. Well, thank you for the great service, Kaito, as always!" The girl accepted the offered trade and began to quickly sort out the items in her inventory, humming under her breath.

"You are quite welcome, Miss Lisbeth!"

"Mm, yes," Lisbeth murmured as she rapidly shifted stacks of materials through her floating interface. "Well, I'll be back against next week!" she declared after satisfying her organizational urges. Bowing her head slightly, as she might have to her father's friend in simpler years, the young girl turned back toward her shop with a bounce in her step.

It wasn't until halfway through the morning that Lisbeth thought to consider the odd fact that her artificial supplier had not only recalled but spoken her name.

And if she had been more focused throughout, the young smith might have noticed that there was now a tag under the NPC's health bar which read «Kaito».

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A/N: For the reader's benefit, this story may be continued now and then on the basis of available time and ideas.