Jim flashed a toothy smile and spoke so fast that Eric couldn’t even blink before the man was scowling, and every suppressed instinct in Eric’s psyche was howling at his peril.
Eric swallowed his too dry throat, forcing himself to speak as the air filled with the furious shouts of the surviving inquisitors.
“He’s returned! The warlock’s back!”
“How is he moving so fast?”
Eric swallowed. “Sorry, Jim. You’re speaking too—”
“Woah, sorry man, my bad. You’re still stuck in slow-time aren’t you?”
The Contender radiating such deadly potency gave an indulgent chuckle. “Sorry, buddy. For some reason, I thought it wouldn’t be a problem, but shit. Everyone starts as a mortal when they pop into this particular realm. Which is why most don’t bother!”
Jim’s smile grew. “Even Contenders, it seems. But we have an edge. Don’t we, my man?”
Eric forced his pounding heart to ease its clenching desperation, taking a deep breath while nodding at the wild-eyed man before him. “We do.”
“But it takes time to get there, doesn’t it?” Jim laughed and winked as the half dozen inquisitor knights continued to roar and shout, now seeming to all but ignore the statue-like stiffness of the wolves which hadn’t attacked them even once. And now Eric didn’t dare use them at all, lest revenants killing mortals cause a catastrophic backlash.
They were effectively a bluff. Good for disarming his opponents… and no more than that, in this time and place. And how lucky it was that they had managed to entice Hatson to dare the maze without the undead monster spilling any blood at all.
Yet that hardly mattered, with death now smiling so brightly Eric’s way.
Before his attention was claimed by the half dozen still fully armed men who, perhaps sensing how reluctant Eric was to actually use his revenants with their soldier’s instincts, they had boldly slipped past the wolves who offered no resistance, all of them with sabers or arming swords now held in furious grips.
Yet they weren’t staring at Eric with the hate he thought they would. No. All their ire was for Eric’s smirking acquaintance as they glared Jim’s way.
“You! You were the one who tainted our master with your foul prizes! You’re the one who corrupted our entire organization!”
Eric blinked at this, even as the air rang with Jim’s bonhomie laughter. “I know, right? I went to all the trouble of finding those artifacts to corrupt that idiot of an Inquisitor, nearly got torn apart by Mord’s men doing so, and it turns out I didn’t even need you shitheads at all!” He turned to wink at a shocked-looking Oliver. “Because a certain prize wasn’t in your stupid-ass hedge maze that didn’t have a single enchantment, fortuitous encounter, or blessing for me to claim. But that’s okay, because everything worked out in the end!”
His eyes twinkled with mirth as he pulled out a crystal figurine of a dragon with perfect sapphire eyes.
Oliver blanched, eyes bulging. “You found it… but how? It was locked within three levels of Enigma! With so many winding enchantments, it should have taken years to...”
Jim held up a finger, his smile taking in Eric and his companions. “Hold that thought, Oliver. Let me wrap up a loose plot thread first.”
Then, before Eric could so much as blink, the half dozen glaring Inquisitors stumbled back in surprise to see Jim right in front of them.
“You’ll pay for what you did, warl—” The closest knight’s words were abruptly cut off when Jim’s hand flickered so fast that Eric couldn’t even see it, the knight’s scowling features replaced by a neck stump spraying them all with a shower of spurting blood.
“No! He cut through steel like it was nothing! What sorcery is this?”
The other soldiers stepped back, desperately raising their blades in defensive guards that did absolutely nothing to save them, Jim’s pearlescent broadsword effortlessly flicking forth to caress their limbs, the air filled with the chalkboard scratching awfulness of effortlessly sheered steel as both swords and limbs crashed to the ground.
The Inquisitors’ eyes all bulged in terror as they gazed at their own spurting arm stumps, panicked screams cut off as their heads toppled free of their bodies, the air now filled with Jim’s manic laughter.
“Quarter, quarter!” Screamed the final inquisitor, trembling hands free of any weapon at all as he knelt and wept before a coldly staring Jim. “Please, terrible one! Spare me! I’ll ser—”
The man lived long enough for one final disjointed blink as his body burst apart in two halves, collapsing like a flower opening crimson petals as Jim sliced him neatly in twain.
“Fuck yes! That’s a perfect bisection! Double experience points for me, because I do so love cutting those fuckers DOWN! You feel me, bro?” He said, spinning to face Eric, who doing his best not to convey the cold shivers of dismay crawling down his spine.
He sensed Agda swallowed a silent scream, leaning against her father’s thick fur coat, daughter held protectively between the pair, and Eric knew damn well it wouldn’t do a lick of good. Not a single lick.
So Eric did the only thing he could.
He shrugged.
“You got me there, buddy. System never gave me double experience for perfect kills. Sounds like you got a sweet perk there! This time around though...” He sighed, shaking his head pityingly at all the fallen soldiers.
It was all he could do to then meet Jim’s face, his demeanor not that of a man talking to a manic psycopath, but one gamer to another.
“Would you believe when I was growing up, I hated the city and fantasized about being an organic farmer? Avoiding the industrial mono-crop bullshit and just going back to nature.” Eric sighed, looking behind him. “I didn’t get any option for farming when I picked my classes because, dreams aside, living in a cramped city all my life meant that I had no chance at all to meet any background requirements the System keeps like a checklist behind the scenes.”
His eyes filled with warm hope, as if he wasn’t fazed at all by the deadly sword of sharpness in Jim’s hand. “But here and now? I think I finally have a chance to walk a different path. I can’t think of a better place to unlock a profession like that than in those sweet looking bucolic homesteads right outside the city here, weather being absolutely perfect for winter wheat. so… would you believe I’ve been going for a zero kill slice-of-life run, this time around?”
Jim gave him an odd look, tilting his head as the air filled with desperate shouts. “Wait, seriously? With all these Inquisitor assholes fully armed and armored and ready to tear you and your quest givers up? Shit. I think someone failed his Charm skill checks!”
Eric smirked. “I know, right? But I can only learn and level up social skills by practicing, right? Would you believe this was just supposed to be a bunch of easy slice-of-life side quests before I went back to the farming life? But look who got squeezed into unexpected quest chains! Not that I mind, but I wanted to keep things stress-free for awhile.”
He forced a rueful chuckle. “Sure as heck, Song came just a bit too close to kicking my butt topside so, yeah. I made like bandit and got the fuck out. So maybe I’ve been coming to terms with the idea that conquering New York is a bit of a crazy stretch, these last few days. Then I thought… maybe there’s a questing path I can take, so New York isn’t a total wash?”
Jim’s smile faded. Nostrils flaring. Staring at Eric for long moments.
Taking his measure.
Like a wolf gazing upon a herd of uniquely vulnerable sheep. No shepherd or shotgun wielding farmer in sight.
The entire world seemed to grow silent and still as Eric’s heart roared in his chest. Already knowing that at the speed Jim could move, his attributes clearly not affected by this territory as Eric’s were.
If he so much as .wished it, Eric would perish in the blink of an eye.
And if the wild, manic gleam in Jim’s eyes were anything to go by, it was clear that he knew it as well.
Jim’s smile grew positively feral. “Fascinating how quickly fortunes can rise and fall in this brave new world, ain’t it, my man? One day you’re the world’s biggest badass… and the next? Just a single hot breath from becoming nothing at all.”
Eric shrugged.
Jim stared at Eric for long chilling seconds, the air so thick with tension one could cut it with a knife.
It was all Eric could do to maintain a nonchalant pose. Utterly sangfroid before the wild gleeful smile of a maniac so eagerly tasting the sweet possibilities of crushing Eric, a man he had feared, just days ago.
Tearing him apart, limb from limb.
Eric ignored the frantic messages flashing across his mind’s eye, Acting and Negotiation ratcheting up under Peril’s Promise like never before.
Every second he slipped past a landmine, determining just the right shift in balance and casual posture, all the while projecting the polite interest of someone with nothing to fear and nothing to hide.
No trace of animal terror that would fill the madman before him with such bloodlust that he would be EAGER to rip open Eric’s throat, like he had a half dozen fully armed knights he had clearly fucked with before… perhaps setting up this entire twisted questline… before terminally ending it, just seconds ago.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
Yet Eric knew damn well he had to show absolutely no belligerence or hostility that would invite similar death, facing a riled-up Contender who could so easily have ten-fold the attributes that Eric currently did.
Easily.
Instead, Eric’s innocent posture, his clueless mien, invited the smirking Jim to treat his own wild impulses as the most innocent of jests, friendship still most definitely on the table between two Contenders who had already reached a friendly accord.
But Eric knew it wasn’t enough to keep Jim, savoring every bittersweet moment, from at least contemplating how delicious it would be to tear out the throat of a Contender that, at any other place or time, would be so much stronger than him.
How sweet a boon would Eric’s lifeblood be to the man before him?
The dreams of a phoenix, crushed and consumed as if they had never been.
A tiny part of Eric’s psyche howled, swearing to never let himself feel so vulnerable, so spiritually naked again.
Mostly what he did was shield himself with an expression of polite interest, pretending that all was well.
The only path forward he had.
And it wasn’t enough.
Not even the knowledge that he had saved this man’s life, perhaps twice over, a truth Jim probably felt press against his soul so keenly at that very moment was enough.
Not quite as Eric shifted his body slightly, as if catching sight of the oddest curiosity just beyond his curiously smiling friend, only incidentally revealing that which gazed so patiently on.
Only then did Jim’s expression change.
For a heartbeat, Eric’s mind was howling against its inevitable demise when Jim moved so fast… only to peer into the countenance of Eric grizzly-sized revenant wolf, twitching its ears just enough to catch Jim’s hawk-like gaze through the mist.
Just as Eric had commanded.
“Nice work.”
“Thanks.”
Jim cracked his neck, now finally taking in the full dozen wolves with eyes that glowed with the light of souls blazing with the essences of Wrath and Flame that had been still as statues, second ago.
“How strong are they?”
Eric shrugged. “Believe it or not, I’m not really sure. Honestly, that one might be no stronger than the grizzly it so closely resembles. Or it could have stats equal to a Bronze-Tier killer, complete with the essence of Wrath assuring armor-piercing critical strikes 15% of the time.”
Jim stiffened at those words, slowly turning to face him. “Seriously?”
Eric solemnly nodded. “With resistances so high that point blank plasma fire won’t do shit. Not unless you know just where to hit with multiple Bronze-Tier Find Weakness perks, and can make the shot while it’s racing toward you at Mach 3.” Eric shrugged. “Or maybe the revenant before you’s no faster than your average wolf. I’m not really sure. And since I’m also not entirely sure how sturdy this world is… testing it by throwing a dozen raging Bronze-tier killers at the city for fun and rupturing multiple quest chains for good and who knows what juicy titles might be at the other end… that sounds like a stupid risk to me. Don’t you think?”
Jim blinked, before giving a loud, oddly joyous chuckle. “Damn, but that sounds like a sweet path to take.”
His smile was now that of a close friend. A confident. Any deluded thoughts of him somehow being a threat shown to be pure absurdity and regretful miscommunication best soothed over with overtures of friendship. “I don’t suppose you’d mind sharing your secret? Most I could do was trick a certain Inquisitor into infusing himself with energies similar to Grim’s. But that’s it! Two fucking quests to fuck with one asshole that I didn’t even need to finish my main quest! Sure as shit, I’d love to know what quest chains will allow me to forge a dozen fucking revenant hounds to back up my ass!”
Eric flashed an easygoing grin, ignoring the blaring internal alarm at what his fellow Contender had just let slip, happy to embrace the friendly take on things that Jim seemed willing to go with.
He leaned close, whispering softly to his eager-looking friend. “Necromancy. It’s not just for NPCs like Grim. It doesn’t require rare artifacts you need quest-chains to find. You can actually get it as a class… or even as a profession! Some people even get offers for both. And considering that you were involved in forging a proto-lich… shit, Jim, I’ll bet you’ll get offers for Adept or Elite versions of both!”
Jim whistled, suitably impressed. “Damn, that does sound sweet! Maybe I’ll see if that’s in the cards for me, just as soon as I find a decent ascension pod. Right after I take care of all the shit already on my plate.”
Eric forced a cool smile, dipping his head. “Then you really should check out Ashland.” He winked. “Guess who has access to a Tier-II Ascension Pod Center that automatically knows who I’ve mentally marked as friend or foe? And guess who just made my best friend list?”
Eric chuckled good-naturedly at Jim’s excited whoop even as he gave furious mental commands to a treasure he sensed his connection with even now, when and where it otherwise did him no good… but now, for the first time since he had used it, was doing him a hell of a lot of good. Making it very clear where Jim stood on the permission scale.
So long as Eric was alive.
And if the man before him was as good at sensing social links and truths as Eric thought his Contender’s gifts allowed… then Eric’s worth had just shot up in value considerably.
Massively.
Eric chuckled, doing his best to make it clear to his new friend that he was happy to retire from New York’s bloodier games. That if Jim still thought they were somehow competing… Eric would gracefully concede the match. Even as he held several golden cards Jim most definitely didn’t need to know about out of sight and even more firmly out of mind.
“I’m guessing I’m not the only one chasing quests and goals in this place. Did you manage to get the key for Natasha’s quest chain? Good for you if you did, Jim. Just be careful of Song if you try that craziness topside. He has a blaster tainted with something that makes my fucking skin crawl, just looking at.”
Jim snorted, his demeanor that of an excited gamer once more. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, good buddy. I got that asshole’s number in the fucking bag!”
He blinked, seeming to take in a wild-eyed Agda and Ivan, gazing Jim’s way like he was looking at death himself.
Jim’s eyes positively twinkled, demeanor instantly changing as his lips curved in a warm smile.
“Aww, man. You really are going for the slice-of-life route, aren’t you?” He gave an oddly approving nod. “You should, Eric. With all the smiling assholes eager to cozy up to a Contender before blasting us in the back… you’re smart to get out.” He gave Eric a thoughtful look, cracking his neck as the shouts and roars intensified behind him. “Yeah, before I go totally Jon Wik and waste all these assholes… I got a quest to complete. Take care, Eric.”
He tilted his head while juggling the crystal dragon that Headmaster Oliver was gazing at with such a profound look of longing. “All that stuff you said before about Ashland and that Ascension Pod Center...”
Eric dipped his head. “Sweet, wealthy tier delves absolutely free of death traps. And the cities that Blue Corp and the Sylvan Faction are building are all about high end shopping, luxury resort accommodations, and Blue Corp bank accounts. If you’re a Classer, you’re welcome to visit for as long as you like, and enjoy all the amenities while savoring the adventuring career others can only hope for! You should definitely check it out. And as far as the Ascension Pod Center goes… how the fuck do you think I got such a powerful class?”
Jim laughed, eyes twinkling with absolute joy. “Fuck yeah, my man! And you mean every word of that. I can tell. So, what’s the catch?”
Eric chuckled. “Let’s just say that a certain series of completed quests means that I’m a partial owner of the bank. The more Ashland develops, the more people that invest, the more my shares will be worth. As far as the Tier II Pod Facility goes, almost anyone can use it. I don’t care how ruthless an assassin or psycho you are. I don’t care if you never touch those sweet wealthy-tier delves or take out a Blue Corp debit card, bank loan, or even sell your shit through brokers that have access to an entire galaxy’s worth of markets. So long as you take the oath not to hurt me or maliciously mess with my sister, the Sylvan Alliance, or Blue Corp, you can do whatever the hell you want. No more strings than that.”
Jim blinked, then roared with laughter, clapping Eric on the shoulder so hard that martial grace alone kept him from flying. “Oh shit, that’s rich! You make money when the rubes make money, and an entire world full of powerful players are suddenly all smiles, giving you Light Blue status in the deadliest corners of Nul Sec. You are playing the game right, my friend! Capitalism at it’s best. I’ll definitely have to check it out. And now I have a little thing of my own I gotta wrap up.”
He spun around, catching Oliver’s haunted gaze. The man paled and hunched over on himself, all he dared with his barely sealed injury.
In an eyeblink, Jim was before Oliver.
Yet the man’s expression wasn’t one of outrage of fury, but heartfelt disappointment.
“After all we did for you, Jim. Teaching you are secrets, inviting you to wear our colors, making you an honorary Enigmatic… this is how you repay us?”
Eric’s stomach clenched, fearing yet another violent death, but all Jim did was hand Oliver a single sheet of paper.
The man blinked before gazing at the document, features blanching. “No. Mayor Stibbs can’t do this. It’s beyond his purview!”
Jim winked. “That’s where you’re wrong, Oliver. Now don’t give me that look. I kept to my oath. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is get a black mark title like ‘oathbreaker’ fucking with my future.”
“But that’s what you di—”
“Wrong!” Jim flashed a fierce smile. “See the titles and deeds? Sure, you own the land, but the in times of war or hardship, the duly elected Mayor is allowed to conscript any man or resource he sees fit! And as you can see here, he specifically conscripted ‘Any treasure my chosen agent Jim finds worthy of Claimance, not to exceed five pounds.’”
Oliver gazed up at Jim in disbelief. “The mayor has the power to rob us at will?”
“Tax you within reason! No more than five pounds, my dear friend, and as you can see, silver and gold are specifically excluded. Very reasonable, all in all. In case peasants and such are holding out on wheat or gun powder or steel that the governor needs.”
“But you’re using that to claim our greatest treasure!”
Jim winked. “Oh but that’s not completely true, is it, Oliver? You and I both know how you got it. You think you can sever my link to it?”
The Enigmatic paled, chuckling bitterly as he shook his head. “And there’s nothing I can do to persuade you otherwise, is there, Jim? For you’re effectively an immortal spirit, and you’ve already learned all I can teach you.”
Jim winked. “Yup! You helped me unlock all the sweetness of my stats, and the mist doesn’t bother me at all, even if I don’t have a knack for the weak-ass magics that’s all that this shadow realm allows.”
He then turned around, catching sight of a dozen town guards wearing dark blue military uniforms with bayoneted muskets racing their way as the last of the mist faded.
“Halt! You are under arrest for theft and assault!” Piped up a rather short figure with rudy skin, white hair, a wild look in his eyes and features that were chillingly familiar.
Jim laughed. “I had to pay Mayor Stibbs in gold eagles for the paper in your hand, Oliver. Good thing I never took an oath not to claim his entire treasury when I was done, isn’t it? Except for the coin I paid with, of course. Gotta keep on the straight and narrow, ha ha! And those turd brains can’t do shit about it.”
Jim snapped his fingers, humming the notes to a song only he could hear as he spun around, eyes glittering wildly as he stared Eric down.
“You did me a good turn, Eric, and I’m not going to forget it. Keep safe, alright? Maybe I’ll see you in Ashland. But if you decide to slice-of-life it here, no one will blame you. But you um… might want to take care of the mayor first. And any Inquisitors that are left. I sense all sorts of foul quest chains conveniently ending in violent deaths with those assholes… explosions, poison, or the headsman’s axe. If I were you, I’d just take them all out, and make this town my own.”
And before Eric could think of any response to that, Jim was gone as if he had never been, and he found himself gazing into the barrels of near half a dozen muskets and one wild-eyed Mayor Stibbs.

