Early the next morning, beneath a gray sky, a thin mist hung lazily over Minisia's Capital, like a dirty towel that someone had neglected to wring out before draping it over the city.
Home Alone and five other players wore spare guard uniforms that had clearly been thrown together to make up the numbers, with crude stitching and a faint musty smell. Blending into a group of bleary-eyed, equally listless recruits, they strolled into the Royal Palace through a servants' passage on one side that reeked of sour wastewater, barely making any effort at all.
Up close, the supposedly magnificent fortress in the center of Treasure Island City revealed mysterious stains smeared across its wall corners and stubborn weeds sprouting between the stones.
The air was cold and damp, mingling the mildew of stone walls, the smell of yesterday's grease wafting from the kitchens, and a feeble trace of cheap spices desperately trying to lend the place some dignity. It smelled more like a large inn that had never been properly cleaned.
"Everyone... uh... look alive!"
A sergeant in armor, with food scraps still stuck to his breastplate, mustered enough energy to shout, as though checking off a chore.
He was an insider Baron Neharry had paid off, but he seemed more concerned about whether he could sneak away for another nap later.
"Keep your heads down and stay out of trouble... follow me, and just don't get lost. What happens if you offend someone important?
"Hmph. You'll be on your own."
The players exchanged looks and nearly failed to hold back their laughter.
This was nothing like the thrilling infiltration of a deadly stronghold they had imagined. It felt more like wandering into a massive cosplay event-and an underfunded one at that.
Home Alone curled his lip and signaled