"Uh!" he moaned.
"Garbage?" a voice asked. It was a youngster dressed in Oxford's colors, carrying an immense garbage sack on his back. Behind him was one of the Tiger mothers.
"Whatcha want?" Peter stretched, trying to make sense of the scene.
"I was tasked to clean your camp," the boy explained. "Do you have anything you want me to pick? Plastic separately, please."
"What's she doing?" Peter pointed at the Chinese woman behind.
"She supervises me," the teen sulked.
The woman stared at the two with a freezing coldness."Because teens are filthy pigs. Took me five years to teach my son how to properly fold his socks."
In origami patterns or what? Peter thought but kept it to himself. "We're good, just go away."
Next to him, Regina was sleeping blissfully, ignoring the intrusion. She was so cute that seeing her was enough to raise his desire, so he got out in the fresh morning, closing the tent behind to let her sleep. He showered with cold water, dressed in generic hiking gear, and sneaked out of the camp, Warping to Redroar's village.
He knocked at the door three times, gently. The lioness opened the door a minute later, wearing a skimpy pajama.
"OH!" he yelped, covering his eyes with his elbow. "Sorry to disturb you…"
"Wait here." The door slammed in his face. A few minutes later, she opened it again, this time dressed, a coffee cup in hand, its steam going up and sending rich scents into Peter’s nostrils.
"What's that haze about? Why is it dangerous?" he asked rapidly, his stomach grumbling. “Can I have a cup of coffee, please?”
Redroar forwarded her hand, and he put half an ounce of gold in her palm, cursing himself. She pointed at a chair on the veranda, entered the house, and returned with a mug and a place of cookies.
It’s very good, Peter reluctantly admitted. Not half-an-ounce of gold good, but delicious.
"So, you asked about the fog,” Redroar said when he was almost finished. “It’s dangerous. Monsters appear at night. Bad stuff. Some drop treasures, but it is not worth the risk."
“Why? I mean, why do they appear?”
“No one knows,” Redroar shrugged. “There was a sea there, more like a giant lake. After the cultivators came, they opened a portal and dumped the fog into the sea… and it ate the sea. There’s no water anymore, just the fog. It mutated the animals inside, but some monsters don’t resemble anything.”
"How can one control the fog?"
"Control it?" she snorted. "Impossible. If you’re lucky, you get in and out fast, grabbing whatever you find.”
“You sure one can’t control it? It helped one of the camps to win the wargames.”
“Strange,” the lioness frowned. “Beats me. Is it all, or can I go back to sleep?"
"Can you spar with me for a few minutes?" Peter asked. "I have to test something."
"Fine…" she growled.
Ten minutes later, they were facing each other in the training meadow. Peter was armed with a fifty-inch branch he had taken from a tree, and Redroar was armed with nothing.
Maybe, but I can’t rely on only one attack. I want to test something else.
Taking a deep breath, Peter put up his HUD, Redroar's contour highlighted. He activated his Inspect and kept it on. Information about the adversary began to flash, and he concentrated on making it smaller and half-transparent.
Instead of replying, Peter attacked. The Barbarian parried his swings and trust with a bored expression on her face, lazily moving her claws in front of his weapon. Yet, a bit of her body flickered shinier than the rest.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
That's when she activates her ability…
The activation of her skill was very short, but she anticipated his moves for a second after it. There was also a reason for when she did it, linked to his stance and the probability of a more dangerous attack. So, he took one of those stances. The flicker came. Flourishing his stick, Peter launched a cut at the barbarian's neck, and she moved her right hand to intercept.
Peter accelerated the weapon and Phased it through Redror’s arm until his swipe got on the other side, ignoring the obstacle, then returned to the real world. The branch struck her jaw.
"Sorry!" he yelled.
Redroar jumped back, with her eyes widened. "Little cub, you grew up!" she exclaimed with awe. “Well done.”
“Yeah…” Peter swallowed the impulse to tell her the truth. From now on, if you want to spar, you pay.”
“You still owe my friends another session,” Peter said.
“Sure. Whenever they want. Tell them not to come so early, or I’ll tax them double.” Nodding a short salute, Redroar returned to the village while Peter remained behind, sitting on a fallen log to calm down. He was all excited by the possibilities of his new move.
"Yes. See, I was right. The HUD is useful. Pro gamers always use their HUDs..." Peter hesitated a bit because he had no idea what professional gamers did, but it made sense.
“Sure,” Peter nodded.
You have managed to evolve Inspect into a real-time ability that can be maintained ON: Insight (Mythical type ability, currently at Novice tier) Cost: 5MP/second. The old Inspect skill is still available.
For scoring a hit against a vastly superior opponent, you have gained +2 Dex and evolved your Multiple Weapons Proficiency (Uncommon) to Combat Mastery (Rare, currently at Novice tier).
“Bro... that’s fantastic!”
I was thinking of paying a visit to my double, but I’d rather jog. Let me know if Regina wakes up.
“Great.”
Peter began running. Half an hour later, when he arrived at his destination, the bartender cleaned the tables. When Peter reached him, he put a beer on the bar.
"Hi, Pete… oh… sorry. You're the other one," the man said, noticing Peter's height.
Peter stared at the stein with horror. The idea of drinking beer at that hour made him retch.
"Ain't you drinking it?" the barman pointed to the beer.
"No, thanks. But I'll pay it," Peter offered a ten-dollar bill, one of those from Earth-Two. "Does my twin drink beer at this hour in the morning?"
"Yeah. Pete's an abstinent, never takes whisky before noon."
Different Earth, different customs. “Do you know if... err... Pete is around?”
“He should be awake now, I’ll text him.” The elderly man took a phone and wrote a message. Seconds later, a buzzing sound signaled an answer. "He'll be there in fifteen minutes. Are you sure you don't want it?" the older man pointed to the mug.
"Absolutely."
The bartender grabbed the beer, drinking it slowly. Waiting was boring, and Peter played with his HUD settings. It worked best when he wore the helmet; the light was perfect. His doppelganger arrived punctually, riding an offroad buggy.
"Hey, me," the look-alike said, removing his helmet.
"Hi. I have some questions."
“Questions can wait. What about the IDs? I kept my part of the deal; you keep yours. Or else,” the shorter man leaned forward menacingly, which offered Peter a view of the top of the doppelganger's head, making the gesture ridiculous.
“It’s related to that,” Peter said patiently. “I don’t think there’ll be problems getting a few IDs… but what about the rest of the students? We can’t just let them die.”
Peter from floor Two squeezed his face into an uncomfortable grimace and shrugged. “Can’t hide all, mate. The cultivators will notice.”
“I was thinking bigger. This is about the students, right? There must be some teachers involved. We find out who they are and take them out. A local bounty hunter killed a level seven teacher in one blow, so they can’t be that tough. That would at least delay the plan, right?”
This is what Elfidor suggested in the second tutorial. It could work even if we go after the smaller fish.
The double scratched his chin, making Peter notice the two or three days' unshaven beard. “I guess we can try,” he shrugged after a few seconds. “Give me a few days to dig for information. But keep your hopes down. It’s a long stretch. In the end, we all might be forced into hiding no matter what. I have some news…” the double paused.
“What news?”
"I followed the competition and asked some of my contacts on floor six what it was about. It turns out the scenario wasn’t random; it was a simulation of things to come.”
“Yeah, we figured it out. They want to conquer other planets.’
“No, they don’t. They’re already stretched out managing the Tower as it is. There will be raids on unaligned realms with magic but neither Systems nor Cultivation. A small force goes down, makes friends with some locals, and plunders the others in an environment where alliances can shift overnight.”
Hm… sounds familiar…
More like the Italian Renaissance, but that too.
“The first raid will be a year from now," the doppelganger continued, “and your college has a high chance of being involved because it got second place. So, having some fake IDs will be useful, after all.”
"Thank you for the news,” Peter sighed. “One more question: is the haze as dangerous as some say?"
"Yes. Avoid being in it at night, at all costs."
"Do you know what it is?"
"Not really. There was a planet full of it on one of the floors, and they sent it here to get rid of it. It changed the fauna, but not only that. At night, it spawns monsters based on our cultures. It knows, somehow."
"Is there a way to control it?"
"The Cultivators failed; that’s why they dumped it here. We farm the edges of the sea, but it’s dangerous."
"Thanks again. See you around," Peter said, getting down from the stool.
"Find me someone to make fake IDs in a week, or our deal ends."
Peter waited for his doppelganger’s buggy to go away, then ran for five hundred yards before Warping. It was time to go back to camp and have breakfast with Regina.