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HC: Card Slinger | Ch. 78 - Regional Races
🕑 Added 2025-08-20 11:39:09 +0000 UTCDeckard closed the browser tab and resumed his march toward the Auction House. His thoughts lingered on the research he’d just finished.
Races… I hadn’t thought there were so many choices…
When he created his avatar, he’d been offered a choice between Human, Skyling, or Lizardman. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. The moment that lady mentioned Oceanlings, he should’ve made the connection—especially with how similar their name was to Skylings. As it turned out, they were both part of a category of mutations called ‘regional races.’
Five regional races. Oceanlings, Skylings, Firelings, Darklings, and Lightlings. Each one with a niche—and a price for tapping into it.
Oceanlings thrived in or near water. They could breathe underwater and gained bonuses to mobility and regeneration while submerged. Conversely, they didn’t fare well in hot or dry climates, suffering a growing list of debuffs the warmer it got.
Skylings got buffs at high altitudes. Firelings fared well in hot weather but suffered underwater. Lightlings and Darklings grew stronger or weaker depending on the time of day.
They were trade-off classes—stronger in specific environments, weaker in others.
They weren’t for everyone, sure—but he could see the appeal. Some players only logged in at specific times of the day—Darklings and Lightlings were practically made for them.
If you were willing to avoid the Fire Pits and the Sun Desert, along with a few specific maps and dungeons, becoming an Oceanling could be a solid choice.
Regional races were a good way to gain power quickly—if you were fine limiting yourself to a certain kind of terrain.
They aren’t too unbalanced either, Deckard told himself. Oceanlings didn’t become fish that could only survive in water. As long as the weather was moderate, they could still move around on land without any debuffs.
Unlocking them wasn’t exactly a secret. The process was common knowledge. All that was needed was to complete a straightforward quest.
Deckard glanced up. He was still in the Water Regions—and would be for the foreseeable future. If the Beginner Region had held him for a month, who knew how long the Water Caves would stretch? Dozens of dungeons. Wild bosses roaming the oceans. This place was vast. Deep.
I wonder if I should go Oceanling.
As he approached the Auction House, Deckard caught sight of a tall player leaning against a pillar—scales black and slick like oil, eyes narrow and reptilian. A Lizardman. Just past him, another player stood chatting with a merchant. All-black eyes. Two thumbs on each hand.
Two more races.
And those were just the ones visible in this small corner of the Water Caves. How many others were out there? And they weren’t just cosmetic. These races came with powerful bonuses and potential penalties.
I shouldn’t rush this. Better to get the full picture first—see what is out there. Then decide.
With that out of the way, Deckard climbed the stairs of the Auction House. Even from the outside, the place hummed with importance. It didn’t look like any game building he’d seen before.
It felt more like entering a busy museum than a fantasy game building. The columns were even more impressive up close—tall and majestic, stretching from floor to ceiling like the bones of an ancient cathedral.
As he approached the colonnade, the volume of chatter swelled. Players flowed in and out like clockwork, while others lingered along the sides, caught up in conversations.
Past the colonnade and into the building, the chaos sorted itself into layers.
Near the entrance, a wide chamber branched off to the side. Rows of counters stretched beneath hanging lanterns, each one manned by uniformed clerks rattling off rapid-fire exchanges with players. The air carried the sharp scent of parchment and ink, and the clink of metal on marble rang constantly like background music.
Further in, a narrower hallway opened into a quieter wing. Velvet ropes divided the space into private alcoves. Players in high-end gear slipped in and out, often flanked by others with the hard-eyed look of bodyguards.
Deckard passed them all and continued forward until he stepped into a central courtyard.
Its floor was covered in fine white sand that crunched softly underfoot. Strange glass sculptures rose from the ground—one a perfect sphere, another a twisting spiral, and a third frozen mid-burst like an explosion caught in time. Each one held water and life. Tiny fish darted through curling tendrils of kelp, and bright shrimp scuttled along curved inner walls.
Around each sculpture, crescent-shaped benches offered seating. Players clustered in quiet groups or sat alone, eyes locked on floating interface windows, fingers flicking and swiping in fluid motions.
“First time?” a voice asked nearby.
Deckard turned. A man looked up at him, spectacles perched on his nose and a neatly trimmed goatee. Above him floated the unmistakable NPC tag:
Maurice, the Tradesman
Lvl. 50
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
The man tapped his nose. “I have a nose for this sort of thing.”
Deckard blinked. “Right…”
“Why don’t I give you a tour?”
“Uh—sure!”
Deckard followed as Maurice headed back toward the entrance. He was probably one of those NPCs programmed to help newcomers get acquainted with the inner workings of the Auction House.
After getting treated like crap in Stiltwave Village, the kindness caught him off guard. He almost felt like crying.
Who said people are nicer in villages than in cities? I never got this kind of VIP treatment back on Beginner Island!
Maurice stopped at a strategic spot—one that offered a clear view of the courtyard, the bustling chamber with the counters, and the quieter corridor.
He cleared his throat and gestured toward the place they’d just left. “That’s the Trading Square—though some regulars call it the Tank Square.” He chuckled, as if it were clever, but Deckard just shrugged. He didn’t see the joke.
“The Trading Square is a great place to access the system, meet people, or just relax.”
“It’s beautiful.”
Maurice beamed. “There are twenty different aquariums scattered throughout, each with its own sitting area. Almost everyone picks a favorite. You’ll have to tell me yours once you’ve seen them all.”
“Sure,” Deckard said, casually.
The merchant’s chest puffed with pride. He let out a contented sigh. “There’s a reason this city is called Aquascape. Its architecture is unmatched in the entire Water Caves region. Now, let me show you how the system works.”
With a soft chime, a window opened in front of Deckard, responding to Maurice’s gesture. Two large tabs blinked at the top: Buy and Sell.
“These are your two main options,” Maurice explained. “Click Sell to open your inventory. Select what you want to sell, and the system suggests a price based on recent transactions in this city. You can adjust it, of course.”
Deckard nodded, eyes scanning the interface.
“There are two ways to sell,” Maurice continued. “A Timed Auction lets players bid over a set period. You choose the starting price, the minimum bid increase, and the duration—five minutes, one day, or a full week. You risk selling it for next to nothing if no one bids, but for rare or desirable items, it can pay off.”
“And the other?”
“Instant Sale,” Maurice said, tapping the second option. “Set a fixed price. If someone agrees to it, the item sells immediately. It’s fast and easy—ideal for common goods or when you’re in a hurry. Any questions?”
“If I sell something here, can anyone from another auction house buy it?”
Maurice laughed. “No, no, no. That’d be chaos! The teleportation costs alone would be ridiculous. Each Auction House handles local transactions only.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
Maurice paused, giving Deckard a moment to ask anything else, then continued.
“Let’s talk buying. The Buy tab shows all local listings. You can search by item name, type, rarity, class, profession bonuses—you name it. You can filter by price, effect, or even how often the item sells. And, of course, you can toggle between Auctions and Instant Sales. There’s a lot of data, if you know how to use it.”
With that, he turned from the courtyard and gestured toward the corridor with a subtle flourish.
“That wing is reserved for private auctions. All the rooms are soundproofed, and anonymity is guaranteed. The Auction House ensures every deal is conducted honestly. If you ever want to organize one, you can rent a suite for a… reasonable fee.”
Deckard glanced down the hallway just in time to see a hooded figure slip into one of the curtained alcoves. He couldn’t imagine needing that kind of secrecy anytime soon.
“And over there,” Maurice said, pivoting toward a wide row of stone counters staffed by uniformed clerks, “is where folks come to store their valuables. Gold, gear, rare components—we keep it all safe. With bandits and pickpockets getting bolder by the day, I always recommend opening an account for anything you can’t afford to lose.”
“How much storage do you offer?”
“That depends on your service tier,” Maurice replied. “Premium vaults come with more space and added perks. Best to speak with a teller—they’ll walk you through the options.”
“I’ll visit them soon.”
“Now, a few reminders before we finish,” Maurice said, folding his hands behind his back. “Fighting is strictly prohibited in the Auction House. Any disturbances will be met with force. Penalties include seizure of assets, account freezes, or permanent bans from this and other auction houses.”
Deckard gulped. Harsh consequences—but it also meant this place was as secure as it got.
“Thanks for the tour,” he said, shaking Maurice’s hand.
The older man smiled, his goatee twitching slightly. “Anytime. I’m usually around, so if you have questions, just ask.”
With a nod of gratitude, Deckard stepped back into the courtyard.
He took his time, walking slowly across the sand, passing by the various glass constructs until he found the one that drew him in the most.
This aquarium hung from the ceiling, shaped like a shallow dome—wide, clear, and filled with tiny moss balls suspended in the water like miniature planets drifting through a calm galaxy. All around them, shrimp of every imaginable color—vivid reds, soft blues, bright yellows—darted between strands of aquatic plants. The whole tank felt alive, peaceful, and oddly otherworldly.
It also filtered the light, casting a soft glow that made this, in his opinion, the most relaxing spot in the entire square.
He sat on the bench beneath it and let the quiet hum of activity wash over him.
Then he exhaled, lifted his hand, and opened the system window.
Let’s start with Sell.
He began unloading the loot he’d brought with him from Beginner Island. He wasn’t expecting much, but every copper counted.
Coconuts, Macaw Feathers, Turtle Shells, and Macaque Pelts. All tagged with modest prices. He accepted the suggestions and moved on—odd pieces of gear, a few minor trinkets, and then—
He froze.
[Filth Neutralizer]
Suggested price: 300 gold
His breath caught. “Three hundred?” he whispered.
That couldn’t be right. He tapped the item again. The interface didn’t budge. It was real.
This was the drop from the Sea Ghoul—the one Orson and his team had been farming. He’d known it was valuable… but this? No wonder entire guild teams were organizing runs just to chase it.
He hovered over the Sell button… then pulled his hand away.
Not yet.
A price like that had to mean something. He needed to know what it unlocked. Selling it now would be shortsighted.
He set the [Filth Neutralizer] aside and continued sorting.
He reached the cards. He had duplicates of several of them. Was it worth selling it? Or should he keep them? After some thought, he held on to those, too. They weighed next to nothing. What if he died and lost a card he used to own a duplicate of? At least for now, he’d keep them with him.
He looked at his neat, practically empty inventory. The only items in it now were cards, [Power Rum], the [Dimensional Binder], the [Transcloak Band], and the [Fracturer]. Everything else was gone.
Alright. Time to see what I can buy with the money I saved up.
He switched tabs over to Buy. The screen flickered—then exploded with listings. Rows upon rows scrolled endlessly down the page.
Millions of items.
His throat went dry. When Maurice said the auction houses weren’t connected, Deckard had worried there wouldn’t be much for sale here.
He stood corrected.
There were two things he was dying to check: what cards were available for purchase, and what gear he could use.
He would start with gear.
