All this time, I thought Lis was a nice, friendly guy, but I discovered his mean streak the day. When I got up, a pile of over thirty books was oable. Lis poi it, patted me on the shoulder with a smug grin, and said, “Enjoy.”

  I scowled and crossed my arms. “It’s not fair! All the books I’ve given you are in English, but each of these is in a different nguage.”

  Lis shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You are looking at it wrong. What you see in front of you is knowledge of magi thirty two different worlds. You should be happy it is in different nguages.”

  His feeble attempt at justification didn’t fool me; I k was revenge. But I wasn’t oo back down. Oh no, I had a pn. A pn involving many, many more books...

  I took some money from him and bought Rue a colr and a leash. Rue was okay with the colr but unimpressed with the leash. Every time I clipped it on, he unclipped it.

  Who said it was a good idea to give a familiar telekinesis?

  Eventually, I gave up and told him, “Have it your way.” After setting out a bowl for him to do his business, I went to look for a pawnshop. I didn’t know if it was the Earth effect or if my Luck stopped w, but it wasn’t my day.

  In Baden-Baden, I found a few pawnshops where I sold some jewelry and purchased two burner phones and two puters. Back at the hotel, I set up the devices and began teag Lis how to use the puter and look things up oer. At first, the puter and especially the cept of the i intimidated him, and he kept asking me if he was doing it right. But the smile didn’t leave his face he got the hang of it. Like a kid in a dy store, he kept clig on links and browsies with almost na?ve curiosity. Every time he found something new, he excimed with joy, his face glowing. It was a side of Lis I hadn’t seen before and was refreshing. It was o be able to teach him something in exge for all the knowledge he gave me.

  For the wo weeks, I immersed myself in a very wordy book about spell stru. Despite my efforts, I still had trouble uanding the writer’s voluted expnations. It was as if he believed that if the book was less than 500 pages long, it wasn’t worthy of attention. The problem was that he didn’t have enough useful information to fill 500 pages. His solution was to use flowery, plicated nguage with lots of similes, analogies, hyperboles, redundant phrases, aaphors that weren’t needed. It was hard to read each page because the paragraphs were too long and seemed to go in circles without actually saying anything.

  It had cepts like: “A wizard crafting a spell is akin to a performer posing an ented tale about the beauty of the word. The notes represent the elements, while the lyrics represent the aspects. They all work in tandem with the wizard’s will to mold the word.” And this quote is a paraphrase of a paragraph 17 lines long. I ted.

  Meanwhile, Lis to his ears in books about engineering and mathematics. I often heard him muttering to himself, and occasionally, he cursed loudly at the texts. Most of his cursing was in nguages I didn’t know or uand, but I could still reize curses when I heard them. His angry reas stantly reminded me of how hard it was for us both to uand too plicated material.

  At least after the rain stopped, Rue agreed to walk on a leash outside.

  Every evening, when we were doh our studies, Lis and I would explore Baden-Baden and find lovely cafes or restaurants to share our meals. We talked about our studies over ptes of sitzel and gsses of local beer. Lis animatedly expihe plicated parts of engineering or pined about the plexity of the subjects. His pints about advanced mathematics sounded so familiar I couldn’t help but ugh. Lis couldn’t help but roar with ughter as I shared my observations about mana and magid went on rants about the writer. I wasn’t even trying to be funny—I meant every word. Other people in the restaurant would often look at us with i as we ughed because we found humor in how plicated our studies were.

  The employees in those pces would give me startled, bewildered, or even judgmental looks when I walked in with a big metal bowl in hand, and even more so when I ordered five servings of the same dish—one for me and four for Rue. But then they would shrug, and I almost heard them think, “Crazy Ameri.” Rue sent me feelings of distent and grumbling that the food wasn’t mana-rich, but that didn’t stop him from eating like three dogs his size. Still, he felt the o let me kly what he thought about my food choices.

  Spoiled familiar.

  We would walk back to the hotel after dinner, if it didn’t rain or snow, and keep chatting in the lounge, curled up in plush couches with hot cocoa. With warm drinks and fortable surroundings, it was easier to talk about my past, and I especially enjoyed hearing Lis tell me stories about his travels. He old me the names of the worlds a some information ‘general’ so as not to spoil my enjoyment of my travels or reveal spoilers. However, he had a lot of amusing stories to tell.

  During those meals and talks, we grew closer each day, being real friends. It amazed and scared me. I had never had a friend before, so it was a new and unique experience. But it alshtened me because I didn’t know how to be a friend. I never learned.

  After two weeks, I told Lis, “I think we should relocate to Engnd as pnned. We should start looking for workshops.”

  “You know this world better, my friend. You decide, and I will follow you.”

  We took a train to Engnd, and whe to London, a border trol official informed me, “Y o be quarantined.”

  “Just a sed, sir.”

  I preteo look in my backpad jured more dots for Rue. When I checked them, they showed Rue had already undergone quarahe One of the Crowd ability was fantastic; it signifitly simplified life.

  Through Airbnb, I found us a two-bedroom apartment in Croydon. Lis tio study, and I started looking for workshops. After two days on the puter and the phone, I had a list of 50 workshops that I signed us up for every other day. When I showed Lis the list, I feared his face would split in half from his smile.

  Stained Gss-Style Embroidered Sun catcherMaking a Cut Paperwork PictureRaffia Workshop4-Shaft Weaving WorkshopDrawing PerspectivesEmbossing WorkshopStreet Art Tour and WorkshopSwing Dang Css with London LocalsTraditional Saking WorkshopPizza Making Cookery CssSushi Making WorkshopChocote Truffle-Making WorkshopFrench Ma WorkshopOff-The-Loom WeavingItalia Cooking CssTaste of Spain Cooking CssWatercolour Paintiarian Italian Dishes Cooking CssBelly Dance WorkshopLimonastercssGrano Making WorkshopPaint in the DarkBeginner’s Cake Decorating WorkshopSpanish Tapas Cooking CssMexi Street Food Cooking CssSilver Ring Making CssDim Sum Cooking dian Miniature PaintingFluid Art Bear WorkshopPerfume Making Css with Essential Oilsdle Making CssEthiopian Cooking CssRigid Head WeavingKintsugi WorkshopAbstract Mixed Media Painting SessionBubble Cocktail Making CssJapanese Whisky MastercssBespoke Cocktail MastercssPrivate DJ CssEpoxy MastercssMake a Fasator Hat With A DesignerEnamel Jewelry Making CssMake Your Own Schie WorkshopMastercss in French Cuisierrarium WorkshopGss Blowing WorkshopHistorical Lettering and Printing TeiquesS Printing WorkshopFlower Arra WorkshopUrbag Tour and WorkshopI had another list for Lis with fifteen workshops I couldn’t attend because I had already dohem and verted the points.

  Lis said, “Let us finish the workshops we will attend together. By then, I will feel fortable managing the other list indepely iy.”

  And that’s what we did for ahree months—workshop, study day, workshop, study day, workshop, study day, and so on.

  I finally fihe book on spell stru and moved on to a book on magic basics. This book was also very wordy. What’s wrong with these wizards? All the books I’ve read about mana and magic thus far have stated in two or three paragraphs what a single sentence could vey!

  At least we had a bst in the workshops.

  The swing dance was a lot of fun, and I couldn’t help but notiazing a dancer Lis was. As the music faded and we caught our breath, I turo him with a grin.

  “Lis, you were incredible out there,” I said, g him on the shoulder.

  He shrugged. “It is all because of my trait numbers,” he expined. “You will be just as graceful when you raise yours.”

  That was encing.

  Lis fell even more in love with sushi and decided to keep the skill. The day after the workshop, he dragged me from store to store, buying everything we needed for sushi making. For a week, we ate sushi every single day. I was gd to have a break from cooking, but I was really getting fed up with sushi.

  Finally, I couldn’t even look at it anymore and said, “Lis, if you keep eating sushi three meals a day, you’ll end up hating it. Pace yourself so you enjoy it for years to e.”

  He agreed with me. I was ba cooking duty aatic about it.

  As Lis and I ehe Belly Dance workshop, the room buzzed with anticipation. Twenty women, adorned in vibrant hip scarves that jingled with every step, turo look at us with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. Two older women scowled at us, their expressions as sour as if they'd tasted something rotten. It took me a sed to figure out why, but the other womehusiastic smiles and warm greetings made it clear. They assumed Lis and I were a couple, which didn’t sit well with the sour pair, but seemed to thrill everyone else.

  “Why the opposite reas?” Lis asked quietly, leaning in, his voice level and calm.

  “They think we’re together.” I jerked my head toward the two disapproving women. “Those two don’t seem to like it. The others are pensating by beira friendly.”

  Lis houghtfully, abs the information as if it were an anthropological insight. “Is this something viewed ively in this world?” he asked, his tone even, like he ieg together a puzzle.

  “By some people, yeah. Not everyone,” I replied, shrugging.

  “Uood.” Lis nodded again, his gaze drifting over the group with a hint of curiosity. “I have e across simir reas in various worlds.”

  “How is it elsewhere?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  Lis’s gaze shifted thoughtfully, the hint of a smile softening his face as he sidered my question. “The most on pairing in most worlds I have visited is between a male and a female. Roughly seventy to eighty pert follow this structure, though it varies.”

  He gestured lightly with his hand, almost as if sketg an image in the air. “Marriage ceremonies are equally diverse. Some worlds have eborate rites—rituals sting days with ting, dang, and s. In others, there are no ceremo all. A couple may simply move in together, an unspoken agreement signifying their itment. Quite a straightforward arra, really,” he added with a faint smile.

  “In some worlds with more women than men, or where the culture is more female-dominant, it is on for one woman to have several husbands. Often, the men will assist with household duties, share responsibilities, or even work on projects together. They form a family unit with shared goals, almost like a small unity within a home.”

  He paused, gng over at the two disapproving women for a moment as if sidering their likely shock at such arras. Then he tinued, “In worlds where the situation is reversed, where there are far more men than women or where men hold more social power, one man might have multiple wives. The women in such families may support each other, managing the household or w together to raise children.”

  “Are there… other types of family groups?” I asked, fasated.

  “Certainly.” Lis gave a slight nod, his tone being more animated as he leaned forward. “Some worlds have family groups that are quite varied. A on structure includes two men and a woman, or two women and a man, each member bringing unique skills or qualities to the group. And then, in others, there are rger family groups, sometimes with four, five, or even more members, who bond together, sharing both partnership and parenthood. The unity is essential in these groups, and each person’s role is clearly defined.”

  Lis’s expression softened. “In some worlds, it is ary for women to raise children indepely or in supportive groups of women. Here, a woman may ceive with a man, but from that point, she either raises the child on her own or as part of a unity of women who share responsibilities. They have developed stroworks, raising children as a collective, eaan serving as both mother and teacher, mentor and guide.”

  I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “I guess Earth has some catg up to do on the variety front.”

  “There are even worlds,” he tinued, “where families are not bound by roles based on ge all. Individuals simply e together, based on who they ect with best, and form bonds that may include shared children, unity homes, or even unal parenting. In these pces, love and partnership are more fluid cepts, not limited by structure or expectation.”

  He straightened, his tone growing softer, more reflective. “In my travels, I have e to believe that panionship, in whatever form it takes, is simply a natural expression of the desire for closeness and unity. Each world interprets this differently, yet the need for e is universal.”

  The weight of his words settled over me. I had always thought of retionships as something fixed by my own world’s s. But hearing him describe all these variations, I saw retionships as something shaped by culture, need, and the people involved, rather than by any o of rules.

  As I looked back at Lis, he nodded, as though he could sense my thoughts. “Ohing remains true, no matter the world,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper. “People will always find ways to ect—ways to build a life together, however that may look.”

  The simple truth of his statement lingered, and I looked at the women in the workshop, the two sour ones and the friendly ones alike, with a new uanding. Life had its way of s people into es, whether through circumstance, choice, or even something as simple as a shared activity.

  Our stop was a “Limonastercss” workshop. I decided I quite liked the stuff and made a mental o hold onto the skill, hoping other worlds would have lemons or something simir.

  Later, after the Make Your Own Schie Workshop, Lis and I stepped out of the small craft store, the te afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. Lis held up his creation—a faux leather schie adorned with small metal pieces—turning it over in his hands with the careful focus of someoudying an artifact of deep cultural significe.

  He gave the schie a bemused look before holding it up with a gentle wave, almost as if presenting it. “Earth has a way of surprising me,” he observed, his tohoughtful, tinged with both curiosity and mild amusement.

  I chuckled, watg the schie flutter in his hand. “What makes you say that?”

  Lis shook his head slowly, still regarding the schie as though it held some unspoken wisdom. “Two hours dedicated to crafting… hair adors. Where I e from, su endeavht seem frivolous, yet here, it has purpose.” He gave me a small smile. “It is a peculiar , but I see its charm. Small things have meaning.”

  I ughed, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I guess it is a bit odd when you think about it.”

  He tucked the schie into his pocket with a look of quiet satisfa. “And I must say, there is something refreshing about embrag the ued. Earth may be strao me, but it is endlessly intriguing.”

  We tinued dowreet, the schie workshop bei another quirky memory in rowing friendship.

  While visiting a pawnshop to sell some of Lis and my jewelry, I had an idea when I saw a nearby antique store. I walked around the er, and after verifying I was alone, I took out one sword, jured dots showing ownership and history, ao the antique store. The history papers were very sneaky. The history papers didn’t directly state that the sword was crafted oh, but they provided a prehensive description, using highly professional nguage, of the time and location where parable materials and smithing teiques were used oh. I gave the system a thumbs up for the sneakiness and workaround without lying. The seller enthusiastically examihe sword and apanying dots and offered me ￡1,000. I sold him the sword, and when I returned home, I took out all the ons I had in Ste.

  Luckily, I did it while standing in the hallway’s doorway. Otherwise, the swords would have cut me into ribbons. We didn’t have a living room anymore, but a pile of ons halfway to the ceiling.

  Lis came running to check the noise, skidding to a halt at the entrao the living room. He just stared at the massive pile of swords, axes, and other ons, his eyes wide in shock.

  He turo me, his mouth slightly agape. “That is a rather extensive colle of onry.”

  “Yep.” I picked up a shiny sword.

  He stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over the pile. “I must say, it is quite an impressive accumution of arms.”

  “Yep,” I replied, pg the sword back down and moving to the item.

  “May I ask why you have acquired su abundance of ons?” Lis asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

  “When traveling in Shimoor,” I began, pig up a rusted dagger, “I saw a general store selling old swords for a few coppers. I purchased one, cast Restore on it, and it returo its inal state. I bought all their stock, and it turned out the shopkeeper had a shed full of ons, so I bought those too. From town to town, I would buy all the cheap old ons. In every capital city, I went to the bcksmiths’ and bowyers’ areas to buy their old, damaged ons for cheap. I just put them all in Ste and have slowly bee them.”

  “And what are your pns for them now?”

  “I thought I’d jure dots for them to sell at an au house,” I expined, shrugging as I picked up another on.

  He houghtfully. “Do retain at least one of each type for yourself.”

  “Why?”

  “I am not certain if you have noticed this, but with the Guidance, more often proves to be better. You are pursuing a fighting css, and it would be you greatly to bee adept with as many ons as possible. I promised to train you with the sword, and I instruct you in knife fighting as well. You already have Archery, so broaden your skill with the other ons.”

  “I have staff fighting, too,” I told him, returning ao the pile.

  He gave a satisfied nod. “Did you purchase it for points or master it through dedicated effort?”

  “I train in it.”

  “Very good.” He ined his head approvingly. “Then tih throwing khrowing axes, fighting with axes and longswords, crossbow teiques, and any sword style you find in a workshop or css. Mastery in these areas will ehat your css develops most effectively.”

  “Thank you,” I said, genuinely grateful for his advice as I tinued s the ons.

  Lis went back to studying, and I started s the ons. I put aside the ones I had already restored and the ones in terrible shape. I selected all the different ons to learn and thehrough the rest.

  Most of them were in average dition, and I restored them, but not pletely. I wao keep some mana, and I didn’t want the ons to look too new. I would restore each item to a dition where it showed its use without being excessively damaged or falling apart, apply a spell, and the aside. This process took me over two months, with breaks tee more actively. Oh, my regeion was three points per minute; with active regeion, it was five points per mihe mana amounts here were too low. At least my els were slowly expanding more and more; soon, I’d be ready for another spiral.

  I did the same with the bows and some leather armor, adding all the Shimoorian arrows to the pile. In total, I had 512 items, not including the arrows. Most of them were melee ons and shields, with some bows aher armor thrown in.

  During this time, Lis and I became closer friends, and our diogether turned into an everyday tradition. We never seemed to run out of things to discuss, often ughing until our eyes watered. Yet, the closer we grew, the more I noticed Lis’s way of expressing himself physically. He’d touch my hand for emphasis when talking, hold my arm to direct my attention, give me a solid pat on the back, and, if I made him ugh, he’d tousle my hair with a friendly grin. On several occasions, after I helped him with something, he’d even sling an arm around my shoulders in a quick, casual hug.

  The first few times this happened, I felt a fsh of disfort—an unease I couldn’t quite pce. Physical affe between men was rare in my world outside a handshake or a sp on the back, so his gestures felt uedly personal. Each time, I’d stiffen slightly, unsure how to respond and feeling a bit out of pce. My mind raced, questioning the i behind these touches, and for a moment, I worried it might mean something more.

  But then I started paying closer attention to Lis’s demeanor. There was ation in his as, no hint of awkwardness or implication beyond friendliness. I could tell by his easy ughter and the way he treated others around him that physical affe was as natural to him as breathing. It was simply his way of eg—his way of showing friendship.

  The more I thought about it, the more I uood Lis came from a different world—no, from many worlds—each with its own s, and clearly, some of them didn’t share Earth’s reservations about physical tact between men. For Lis, these touches were a matter of kinship, warmth, and friendship, not romance.

  Once I uood that, I felt entirely fortable with his gestures. I eveurhem occasionally, nudging his arm or g him on the back when I agreed with him or felt grateful. It felt natural, a kind of bond that was unspoken but clear, and I finally rexed into it, appreciating this small but meaningful part of our friendship.

  After I prepared all the ons I wao sell, I trated and jured dots for them. I wanted proof it was mine, proof of ownership history, and some dotation of the on. It e 3,000 mana, and I got a stack of dots half as thick as a phone book. The package tained dots showing that my great-grandfather started the colle and my grandfather increased it. There was dotation for each item, including the work around historical records, a will in which my grandfather bequeathed everything to me, and dots proving that I had paid all the taxes on the colle. It was good that the ability took that into at; the taxes didn’t even y mind.

  I found a short-term rental warehouse, bought boxes to store the ons, packed everything so it wouldn’t look like an enormous pile, and took a cab to Christie’s.

  At Christie’s, I approached the receptionist and asked, “I have aensive colle of medieval ons my grandfather left me in his will, and I want to sell them. Who do I tact about this?”

  The receptionist looked up from her puter and asked, “Do you have dotation?”

  “Yes,” I replied, holding up a folder.

  “Wait here; I’ll call the ons appraiser.” She picked up the phone and made a call.

  After a few minutes, a man in his fifties, wearing a costly suit, arrived. He spoke briefly with the receptionist before approag me with a warm smile.

  He extended his hand. “I’m Parker Walker; pleased to meet you.”

  I shook his hand firmly. “John Ripper, o meet you.”

  “I uand you have a colle of ons for sale?” he inquired, gng at the folder in my hand.

  “Yes, I have all the dots here,” I said, holding up the folder.

  He led me to an office off the main lobby aured for me to sit. “Would you care for tea, coffee, or perhaps something cold to drink?”

  “I’m fihanks,” I replied, settling into a fortable chair.

  “May I see the dots?” he asked, his eyes already looking at the ferly.

  I gave him the folder, aiculously reviewed eaent for the hour. I watched as his expression grew more and more pleased by the minute.

  After reviewing the dots, he looked up with a broad smile. “Christie’s would be delighted to host your au. How shall we arrange for the colle of the ons? Are they in the Uates?”

  “No, they’re already here in London. I hire a trud bring them over tomorrow,” I replied.

  Parker shook his head and smiled. “There’s no need for that. We’ll be happy to provide transport services.”

  I signed a sales tract with Christie’s, and we parted ways. I gave him the warehouse address, and we agreed they would collect the ons the day. The day, a truck arrived with two movers, and they took everything.

  A few days ter, I saw aeicle about the “Ripper Colle” and its historical importance. I felt unfortable because it wasn’t historical, but then I decided that if someone spends money on a on to hang on the wall, they afford it. I also found it amusing that my st the theme of the colle. After all, you had to be a ripper to use all these ons.

  While waiting for the colle to sell, I enrolled in the London Longsword Academy for lessons in side swords, longswords, daggers, smallswords, and rapier.

  I enrolled in Scho Gdiatoria for Sword Fighting (HEMA), Sabre, and Cutss.

  I also signed up for csses in Battodo, Wudang Taiji Sword, Uriking and Grappling, Poleaxe and Spear ons, Kenjutsu, German & Italian Longsword, British Military Saber, Staff & Dagger Work, Sword & Shield Fighting, Kory Iai, Dento Nihon Kobudo Jikan Kai, Muay Thai, MMA, Choi Kwang Do, Stick Fighting, Axe Fighting, Axe Throwing, and Khrowing.

  The colle sold for over ￡700,000, leaving me shocked and thrilled.

  I tiraining almost daily in various schools and dojos while Lis studied. He finished all the books I gave him, and I gave him the batch, which was even bigger. Sadly, he didn’t react to the amount; he just thanked me auro studying.

  Life was so unfair sometimes. Oh well, at least I made a lot of money.