The Angels of the Gallery
I was deep in thought when it happened.
The floaters seemed terrified of the Magic Tower and Archmage—they deleted every mention within seconds. I got anxious and deleted mine too. What kind of people make floaters this scared?
Right then.
Silence fell over the gallery. The noisy comment feed stopped dead, like a lie. Seconds later, reactions poured in like a storm.
SongOfTheJoints's bombshell didn't settle easily. Gallery users dove into heated debates over which item was pricier. I pondered.
Subspace pocket...
Subspace pocket. The name said it all. No mere bag. In the Backrooms, it changed survival itself. No more worries about gear, weight, recovering drops mid-fight—everything solved in one go.
It's exactly what I need right now.
SongOfTheJoints could barely type, fingers stiff from joint pain, pleading.
That last typo stuck with me. But I didn't decide on emotion alone. This world wasn't that kind. After weighing it, I chose.
But the biggest issue remained.
Auction house trades meant no bartering and huge fees.
I focused on the floaters' casual drop.
Gift trade? Maybe...?
Looks like bartering meant mutual gifting.
Other way was auction listings and buying, but my gold was low. Low price risked sniping. Only gift trade worked for me.
But isn't this scammable?
My sudden worry melted away moments later.
SongOfTheJoints has sent you a gift.
Accept the gift?
SongOfTheJoints sent the subspace pocket first.
"...What if I'm a scammer?"
Of course, I'm not. I checked immediately. Black base with a subtle deep purple glow. Texture like nothing I'd touched—too soft for cloth, too smooth for leather. The surface had faintly shimmering patterns that shifted with the angle. Amazing.
I confirmed the pocket expanded inside, then got gallery verification it was real. Right after, I sent the golden apple to SongOfTheJoints.
SongOfTheJoints thanked me nonstop.
His typos screamed joy. How thrilled was he? Then, moments later, his typing speed exploded.
His reaction lifted my mood too.
Now, back to the First Room for my stuff. Then, 102nd floor. With the subspace pocket, no moving worries.
"Good trade."
I dry-heaved, turning. Pushing with the rag golem wrecked my stomach. Too much movement after so long? Like post-march in the army—no strength left. Cold sweat beaded on my face.
Couldn't rest here. Monsters respawn tomorrow with layer regen.
Grab my stuff quick.
Next moment, unexpected crisis.
"...?"
The rooftop door was gone.
: Gotta go down for stuff but rooftop door itself vanished;; What is this? Why?
How would I? I was baffled.
Food, water, potatoes, potions from Goinmul, basic gear—all in the First Room next door.
Right then.
SongOfTheJoints has sent you a gift.
Accept the gift?
I accepted absentmindedly. A sack bulging with gold coins.
Eyeballing it, easily 3,000 gold. Enough to cover food and more for a while.
Youth changed her personality too.
Maybe her real one...
But gifts didn't end there.
Bob EatAndDie has sent you a gift.
Accept the gift?
"...?"
Dwarf Bob EatAndDie. Barely any connection—just occasional comments. Why gift me?
Wary, I hesitated, then he spoke.
Food out of kindness? "What. An angel?"
I accepted. A box of assorted foods.
"Real angel."
But puzzled too. Gallery's only angel was Goinmul. Now add SongOfTheJoints and Bob EatAndDie. Geomseong too.
"...?"
Puzzled briefly, I ignored them and focused on moving. Could rest more, but body felt off. Tired? Sick? Maybe both. Hurried up the stairs. Collapse here might mean witnessing layer regen firsthand.
Reached the top, opened the iron door.
Screeech—
Stepped into the 102nd floor.