Well, everything seems to be in working order, aside from being a bit too far on the slender side of things. Hell, I feel better than I can ever remem-holy fu-cris-shit, I look like the bastard child of a WOW Banshee knocked up by Peter Pan, a-a rich kid cos-player who didn't know if he wanted to attend the convention as Legolas or Alucard and said 'Fuck it, why choose?'

“Now, why do ya look so out of sorts, Wren? You look proper handsome. There's a lot of blokes out there who would kill themselves to look like you do now,” chirped the little red-headed demon.

“Apparently one of them did because I think I'm their ghost. Tell ya what, I'll be the plucky ginger and YOU be the heroin chic wraith of Christina Riche” Muttered Wren morosely.

Large, violet, 'don't hurt me' eyes and a heart shaped face framed in soft, feathery, platinum blonde hair topped off with pouty cherry lips...For all I know I could have looked like a Greek god instead of their cup-bearer. Shit, get over yourself and focus

Troy managed to toss out a disappointing. “Who's Christina Riche?” before Quetz kicked back into 'business as usual' mode.

“The first mission exists to eliminate those who were unable or unwilling to accomplish simple goals as well as provide an opportunity to remove some undesirable elements that used to frequently plague group summonings. The second mission exists to provide a wake-up call that this is not a game and without some ambition outside of personal wish fulfillment you will likely not survive,” with a somber sigh Quetz continued, “The difficulty of the second mission was set by the host to their equivalency of what an eight-week trained village militia man should be able to overcome if caught without a weapon. I personally believe that to be a bit excessive but my wings are tied. Without further delay-”

While Quetz drew everyone's attention back to him/itself, Wren started repositioning the weakly protesting Troy back away from the few rubberneckers that drifted over during the body-swap light show. Lilly, knocked out of strained attention after Troy's boot cast scraped her ankle, moved to assist.

“-and may the odds be, erm, good luck,” Quets ended before a dull flash of light accompanied by the scent of ozone cleared to reveal a large boar with a small strip of spiked bone plating along it's spine.

After a few moments of dazedly looking around and sniffing the air, The dire beast began scraping it's cloven hoof on the floor as the entirety of nearly forty people started dashing and hobbling away as quickly and as far as possible. It didn't take long before the trio made clear and easy targets.

I could run with the rest. There's no good reason why I have to put myself in danger for this Old Navy invalid and his trusty side kick, ugly shirt girl. Ahhh, fuck this. If I let this little, er... big boned but sweet, girl get gored in front of me I deserve ball cancer...Fuck you, adrenaline! Am I gonna die?

A poorly timed kick to the snout turns into a miss followed by a clumsy punch to the snout that does little more than piss the boar off before Wren is lifted into the air with a tusk lodged just underneath his sternum. Running off of pure instinct and barely registering the high-pitched scream of rage and despair coming from behind him, he grabs the base of the tusk, pushing down and towards himself with all he has. The tusk comes free of his chest with a sickening pop as the hind end of the beast slightly lifts and careens off to the left side and out of Wren's vision. Wren's back, slamming into the ground brings the realization of pain and the inability to take in a breath. His vision granting him a brief clip of the boar spinning in tight circles, hind legs spasmodically kicking out behind it, a brown stick with a bit of gold twinkling at it end barely perceivable in the boar's right eye before Wren's eyes become sightless. His last thoughts...

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

Worst...hero...ever...Was that a fucking makeup pencil!?

Wren opened his eyes to the slowly fading visage of an ethereal beauty looking down upon him with boredom and compassion.

“Mortal, you have been granted a second chance though death will not be denied so easily again,” said the lovely creature before winking out of existence.

To his left sat Lilly with dirty tear tracks and a little bit of snot running down her now acne scar free face moments before it was buried in his shoulder spreading an uncomfortable dampness through his shirt. A little behind her, even Troy looked a bit misty-eyed but whether that was due to sadness and gratitude or getting painfully drug around only he knows. Looking around, Wren saw that they were the only ones left before a dry cough drew his eyes upward. A huge serpentine face far, far too close for comfort greeted him.

“ Your friends desired to preside over your passing. As a deity from a culture who appreciated a well meaning sacrifice I accented. A wandering beggar monk happened to have a few joss sticks he lit for you and quite a few of the participants honored you in various ways before finishing their third mission. Pity all their effort was wasted.” Wren broke out in a cold sweat.

So, I died when I got gored? Then what was the angel resurrection thing about? Could that have been what Hiidan was trying to tell me about at the end there, a Second 'something or rather?' I had an extra life?

“Never the less, since you are among the living again I can spare a few moments for you to browse through your achievement point catalog. Cherish the opportunity well for after you arrive on the host world, achievement rewards are ten-fold more costly. Oh, and tarry not overly long. My wife awaits my return. Do you have any questions?” Wren shook his head no. The last two times he ignored Hiidan's advice didn't turn out so hot. A third time was not on the board.

Lilly chimed in with, “ I don't want to hold you up too long on what ya need be doin but since your operator seemed to have givin ya Second Chance instead of All Language you best be picking that for sure. It only costs 20 points here but it normally costs two thousand. Second chance is only good for about 24 hours. Seems to me that your operator was betting your death!”

He wasn't banking on me dying, he knew I would. I would like to think that he did it strategically, wanting me to win the first mission. Nothing would say suspicious like coming back from the dead. Couple that with being the only one who can't freely communicate and I made an obvious target. Luckily the race change and not being dusted by a wrath pillar saved my 1up for later.

Troy, with a bit of a shameful look on his face said, “ And if it's not too much trouble could you lend me ten points so I can get a fast heal perk. People who only got the basic ten starter points were only allowed to choose between starting class assistance and active ability perks.”

“Shouldn't you have another ten from the spy mission?”

“ I chose you,” with scarlet ears, Troy stared at his left shoe as if were the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

“Alright guys, either of you want to give me hand with getting started on spending points? I don't want to disturb our floating supervisor,” Wren said, wanting to be done and away from the South American, possibly also Haitian, Deity/Loas as soon as possible.