“The key is to let it rest. The gluten has to relax, or the end result will be too tough,“ Markus gesticulated wildly as he talked, his hands telling a story of their own.

Micheal hadn’t expected to be discussing baking, but he’d mentioned that he enjoyed making cookies, and everything spiraled from there.

Not that he was complaining, though; Markus was giving some good tips.

From the passion and detail that he described baking, the man could rival your grandma that always told you you weren’t eating enough.

If they weren’t in the middle of a competition, Micheal would’ve been tempted to take notes.

“Now I want to try making sourdough,” he said. “Though it would be my first foray away from baking sweets.“

Markus grinned, his tanned face settling into the expression like it had been made for it. “It’ll likely be pretty terrible, but it’s fun!“

Despite their talk of baked goods, neither of them let the guards down. They scanned the white forest intently, even as Markus described the best way to score a loaf.

“What holiday has the best drinks, do you think?“ Micheal asked.

Markus frowned as they climbed over a fallen tree. “What kind of drink are we talking about here? Alcoholic or just in general?“

“In general, I’m only 19, so no drinking on the table… Well, I guess I can drink it now, right? I mean, who’s going to tell me no? Assuming anyone’s even manning a liquor store, are they really going to card me?“

The old man chuckled. “The advantages to the apocalypse!“

Micheall laughed. He’d done that a surprising amount over the last 10 minutes. When he realized he was separated from his friends, he had expected his trip toward the pillar to be filled with tension and an undercurrent of distrust. But Markus was just so damn disarming.

Micheal couldn’t help but relax.

Which had actually made him a little suspicious, but it was hard to keep up any amount of suspicion in the face of Markus‘s friendly face.

“Moving back to the topic of seasonal drinks,” Markus said. “ I think fall and winter. Summers got lemonade, spring has… Lemonade. But fall and winter have pumpkin spice and apple cider, and I’d take those over lemonade any day of the week.”

Micheall inclined his head. “Point. I don’t think I can dispute that. But I think you’re sleeping on lemonade a little bit here.“

Markus made a sour face. “Bah.”

Micheal started to laugh when the old man froze and held up his fist.

His laugh cut short, and he listened.

For a couple of seconds, there was nothing but the silence of winter. Then he heard it—whimpering and harsh voices.

He was amazed Markus had picked it out mid-conversation.

The old man glanced at him and held a finger to his lips.

He nodded. Message received, be quiet.

They carefully crept through the snow.

Michl winced at the soft crunch from his boots and the whisper of snow against snow.

Markus moved like a ghost, his feet barely making any noise as he moved with the grace of a man decades younger.

Micheal felt like a drunk bear compared to the man.

They came to the top of the hill. Markus zipped up his coat to the neck before carefully laying down.

He copied him, but his own coat wasn’t nearly as thick.

They slowly shimmied to the top of the hill.

Said hill immediately cut down into a small valley lined by skeletal, stubby trees. They looked a bit like bones with their leaves gone and the fresh coating of snow sticking to their branches.

At the bottom of the valley, a man and a woman were crouched over a third man and- and-

Micheal slid back from the top of the hill and took several deep breaths, trying not to puke.

After a count of five, he moved back and slowly looked down.

The man’s leg was visibly broken; he could tell that much at a glance. One knee jutted out at the wrong angle, and one arm was cut.

Micheal had no idea how badly, but the snow around the man was stained pink.

He pushed through his horror and nausea and focused on what the two were saying.

“Don’t make this any harder on yourself, man! We don’t want to hurt you anymore. Just send them over, and we’ll give you a quick death. You’ll be healed, good as new, and warm in the chalet before you know what’s happening.”

Micheal studied the speaker. He couldn’t make much from on top of the hill. He was white, with dirty blonde hair and a slightly scratchy voice. The only other thing that stood out was his bright red coat.

The woman spoke next. “Just – come on. Listen to him. Please?”

She had a high, slightly nasally voice, and she sounded more frustrated than anything else. Micheal could make out light brown skin and short black hair. No distinctive coat like the other guy, just generic black snow gear.

The man in the snow whimpered and then did his best to spit at them, the sound echoing over the snowbanks like a slap.

“God dammit!“ The woman swore. She kicked the man in the stomach twice. “Stop making us do this! You think we want to be hurting you! We just want your points! Send them to us, and we can be done with this!“

The man coughed and tried to curl in on himself.

Red coat guy rubbed his face. He looked like he might be sick, but he didn’t do anything to stop the woman or help.

Markus carefully tapped him on the shoulder. Micheal looked at the man and almost flinched. His friendly smile was gone, replaced with a stony mask.

And if his face was stone, his eyes had turned to steel.

He stared at Micheal with frightening intensity.

Markus held up his phone screen, and he quickly read it.

“I’m going down. I’ll loop around on the right. When I give you the signal, draw their attention.“

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Micheall nodded and felt a spike of relief.

He was glad that his temporary companion wouldn’t leave a man to be tortured.

Markus went around the hill, moving quickly but quietly.

Micheal’s heart pounded in his ears. What if they turned around too soon? What if they saw Markus early? He seemed to think he could take them from surprise, but what if they caught him out of position?

Despite his spiking heart rate, they didn’t turn around, and Markus got into position about fifteen feet behind them. The man raised a hand in Micheal’s direction.

Micheal took a deep breath, his focus settling on Eye Catching Beauty. The Skill box looked like a stained glass window depicting a man posing for a cheering crowd.

He pushed himself to his feet to stand atop the hill and then screamed for everything he was worth.

Energy poured out of his chest and into his voice, sending rolling lines of blue into the air. “Look at me!”

Everyone except Markus spun to stare at Micheal.

The man and woman screamed over each other, so their voices came out in an incoherent mess as they pointed at him, shock and panic written on their faces.

Markus didn’t waste his chance.

He took off at a sprint, closing most of the distance before they broke the taunt and spun to face him.

The woman cried out and clenched her fist.

The snow in front of Markus surged up into a small icy spike.

Markus, quick as thought, sidestepped the spike and kept coming.

The red-coat guy pulled a knife and ran his hand along its length.

Darkness coated his hand and spilled over the blade like ink. It dripped from the edge and fell, only to puff away before it could reach the snow.

The woman made another spike that Markus dodged, and then he was right next to them.

The red-coat guy lunged, leading with the knife. Markus slipped to the side and ignored the man to slam a closed backhand into the woman’s cheek. As she staggered, red-coat stabbed out again.

Markus slipped around the knife like he had eyes in the back of his head.

Micheal blinked.

What the hell?

Markus snapped a kick up. It missed by a wide margin but sprayed snow and ice into the other man’s face.

As he floundered, slashing wildly in a panic, Markus brought his other foot around. Red-coat gasped as the old man’s foot slammed into his side.

He staggered into the woman, who was in the middle of pointing at Markus.

She yelped as her aim was spoiled.

One of the ice spikes ripped from the ground and flung itself at Markus, but the shot went wide.

Markus swept his hand low, palming a handful of snow and closing in before they could fully recover.

He threw his handful of partially melted snow into red-coat’s face, then lashed out, striking the ice woman in the throat.

She gagged, staggering back as she clutched at her neck.

A moment later, she vanished in a flash of green and blue light.

Micheal stared in shock. He’d crushed her throat, just like that.

Markus didn’t give the remaining man any time to recover.

He lashed out with a quick jab and followed it up with two more as the man blocked.

Red-coat snarled and clenched his fist.

Darkness rolled up his arms and legs in wispy streams. And when the streams met at his chest, the darkness pulsed.

The man's speed shot up, and he slipped around Markus’s punch to drive the knife at his shoulder.

Markus dipped down and back, letting the knife sail by.

Red-coat immediately corrected, bringing his knife back and down. When that failed to connect, he struck out with a flurry, the knife leaving trails of shadow in its wake.

Micheal would have gotten stabbed half a dozen times. Steven, even with Micheal’s buff, wouldn’t have been able to dodge them all.

But neither of them moved like Markus.

The man flowed around the knife like a dancer. Twisting and weaving around the blade, every motion fluid and efficient.

He moved like he could see the future.

He twisted past a lightning fast stab and snapped his hand down in a chop.

The knife went flying as his hand cracked into red-coat’s wrist. Before the man could recover, Markus grabbed his outstretched hand and wrenched.

He dragged him close before searching his ankle, sending red-coat crashing into the snow.

His booted foot crashed into the side of his head, and the man vanished with a thump of green and blue.

You have defeated Carson Wells and Tina Karloff. Experience split with party

Micheal stared.

That…had been humbling. Markus had- that- it wasn’t even close. Seeing him tear through those two like paper actually made Micheal feel better. For one, he knew they were a lot safer than he’d thought if Markus had skills like that.

But it also confirmed that Markus was on the up and up.

If he wanted to kill Micheal, he could. And there was no shot that Micheal could stop him. No need to fake playing nice.

He made his way down the hill, and Markus nodded to him. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

The man on the ground looked between them, his face tight with pain. “Thank you. Those fucking animals were- god.” The man whimpered.

Micheal couldn’t blame him. Just looking at his leg was making him queasy.

Markus nodded and gave the man a kind smile. “Of course. Do you want me to send you back to the chalet? I’ll make it painless.”

The man grunted. “Please. And thank you, I won’t forget this.”

Markus’s smile never dipped, but his eye looked pained.

Micheal stepped in. “Wait! We might be able to send him back without having to do that.“

Markus paused.

“We fought someone last round, and after she lost, we were able to send her back without having to ‘kill’ her. The System knows when someone is out and down.”

The man let out a weak chuckle. “I’m definitely fucking beat. Please, feel free to try and send me back.”

Markus nodded. “If you’d do the honors, Micheal.”

Micheal crouched down and laid his finger on the man’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure that was necessary, but since he hadn’t done the damage to the man, he wasn’t sure if just asking the System to send him back would work. But if he touched him, then maybe…

Send Alan Rolker to the chalet?

He sighed in relief. “Yes.”

“Clever Damsel. You did need to touch him in some way to allow this spell.”

The man vanished with a flash and a grateful smile.

Points gained: 2

Micheal stared at the ground, his stomach roiling. He knew that there were bad people in the world, he wasn’t a child. But there was a difference between knowing and understanding. They had brutalized that man for a chance at points. They had been willing to do that to another person after only a week of their new world. Were they always like that? Or had something happened to them in the last week to change them so dramatically?

His stomach roiled again and Micheal tore his eyes away from the bloodied snow and focused on Markus.

“I got 2 points for that. I’ll send one your way.”

Markus shook his head. “I got 4 from the goon squad. So…”

Markus Ward has sent you 1 point.

“There. Now we’re both at 3.”

Micheal scowled. “You put a lot more work into that. You should get more.”

“We agreed to an even split, and I’m a man of my word. Besides,” he gestured to the scattered snow. “It would have been a pain getting close without your distraction. You earned your share.”

Micheal disagreed, but he could tell the man wasn’t moving on this.

“Alright.” He scratched his chin as his eyes traced the disturbed snow. “Your Class is crazy, I couldn’t even pick out any Skills, but you tore them apart.”

Markus cocked his head. “What are you talking about? I didn’t use my Class.”

Micheal stopped. “What?”

“I didn’t use my Class,” he repeated. “That was just some old-fashioned elbow grease and good right hook.”

Micheal floundered briefly before choking out, “What!”