“Don't worry, brother Carl, you'll get it eventually,” Fleeting Time consoled sincerely, patting the dejected Carl's shoulder.

“Mercy seems to have found something, she's waving for us to come over. Are you ready for another round?”

Carl immediately brightened up. He balled his fists, flexed his muscles, looked at his run-down and bloodstained bracers and sleeves, and remembered why he was here.

“I'll tear them to pieces!”

“That's the spirit! Let's go!” The old man took off joyously.

The three called Lissome Shot over and hastily made their way towards their next quarry.

“I'm curious, brother Carl, can you tell us what skills you chose?” Looming Oak inquired while running, after learning that Carl couldn't even spare a single point for an essential ability.

“The three you saw – a hook, a rip, and a punch, as well as Arrest Bleeding,” Carl admitted freely.

“What?!” Looming Oak was startled. “Only four skills?!”

“It might not be a bad choice,” Fleeting Time commented. “Though it is an expensive one.”

“Yes, but no magical tracking, no vision enchantments, and no buffs whatsoever?”

“You've seen his fighting style, kiddo, do you think he cares?” The old man smiled. “And with Arrest Bleeding he might even be able to go solo once he upgrades his gear and stacks up on healing potions.”

“Really?” Carl rejoiced. “What about the gray wolves, do you think I could solo them already?”

“Oh, you don't want to go there, trust me,” the cleric advised. “They are significantly smaller and weaker, but also far more numerous, and much more careful. They'll flee the moment you show strength, and hound you without end if you retreat. Not to mention the massive dire wolves, which appear from time to time. They've caused a lot of team wipes. No, black wolves are the way to go, all professionals are grinding them now.”

“Okay, thanks for the heads up. One more question – how do I train my agility? I only have 5 …”

“5? Oh boy, you really went all the way, didn't you?” Fleeting Time laughed. “This might cause you some grief. But you just keep fighting, performing feats of agility, and it should come on its own. It goes without saying that tougher challenges will yield greater results. Who knows, those grade 1 attack skills of yours might also speed up your gains.”

“Yes, and there's instructors at the Colosseum,” Looming Oak added. “Beginner ones can train you up to nominal attribute value, and they're the cheapest, so it's not all that bad. Still, this will cost you a lot.”

“That's great! What about advanced instructors?”

“You can't afford them. Nobody can just yet. Intermediate ones train up to 150% nominal attribute value, and advanced up to 200%. Anything more than that you will have to either search for expert instructors or encounter fortune in the open world,” Fleeting Time explained.

“Hmm, maybe I should have gone for 20 strength and 5 vitality …” Carl pondered, to his companions' shaking heads and knowing smirks. “I'm guessing the arena is only for physical attributes, while the mental ones are trained somewhere else, like maybe in the temple?”

“Precisely,” the old man confirmed. “Now, let's see what we've got in store for us.”

Standing on top of a small rocky hill, Carl peered into the distance.

“I don't see anythi–oh … okay.” He grinned. “Should I go?”

“Knock yourself out,” Fleeting Time acceded with a smile. “I'll go with him, and you guys keep searching.”

This peculiar turn of events was because of a singular red marker flashing behind the trees. It was a lone prowler.

[Black Wolf] (prowler, mortal)

HP: 200

Carl waited for no one. He sprinted all the way, ignoring his tired legs. The large lupine noticed him quite early, and reacted similarly to those from before.

Seeing the white teeth from far away, Carl slowed down and pulled out his weapons.

“I'm not going to let you tackle me this time!”

As the dominant animal started running towards him, evidently incensed by the provocation, Carl stopped and hid behind a thick tree trunk, observing its arrival from the safety of his cover.

“This should work!”

Taking a deep breath and bracing himself for the pain, Carl brought his left up and his right forward, parallel to the ground … offering it on a silver platter.

The graceful beast almost came to a halt when taking a sharp turn around the tree, but then jumped with unexpected acceleration at Carl, who now stood with his back supported by the trunk. Its jaws snapped shut around the presented target, shaking Carl's whole body with the momentum transfer, since Carl flexed his right arm with all his strength to soak up the impact.

The sound of crushing bone inevitably came …

… Carl's bone, as the prowler's molars proved to possess terrifying leverage.

But he was ready.

Vicious Hook!

“Gotcha!”

Wincing from the countless needles that pricked his brain, Carl reveled in his instant kill. It was seemingly no different from the alpha and the common ones.

Arrest Bleeding!

Remembering the warnings about blood loss, he immediately stopped it.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Haha, well done! You make it look so easy, brother Carl,” Fleeting Time congratulated, walking up to him briskly.

“Heh, there's a price to pay.” Carl smiled, ignoring the searing pain. “Can you mend broken bones?”

“Sure I can,” the old man acknowledged, “that's my specialty, after all. Let me see …”

Carl clenched his teeth, as he no longer had any distractions to take the edge off, and tried to battle the suffering instead.

“85% realism may be 7.5 times worse than 98%, but the pain is as real as it gets!”

At least Carl couldn't see a difference. After all, agony is agony, it's impossible to disregard, it can only be heroically endured.

As the cleric fixed the broken forearm, he palmed it with both hands and focused, going through the motions of the formula in his thoughts. The familiar and pleasant soothing cold returned, and in just a few seconds Fleeting Time removed his palms.

“That fast?” Carl was unconvinced.

“Yep. Pretty neat, isn't it?” The old man grinned.

“Isn't it a little overpowered?”

“I don't know about that. It's just two pieces of a puzzle, and you need only glue them together. It's much worse when the bone splinters from a heavy blow, or when it's a joint. Some injuries are incurable, and you can only mitigate their debilitating effects. Same with healing wounds – if it's just skin and flesh, then it's fine, there will at most be scarring and some discomfort. But if it's your vitals or a large tear, then there will be lasting effects, including lowered health and mobility.”

“Oh, right, that's what the temple is for.”

“Exactly, as well as for replenishing lost blood. And moreover, mending bones costs an awful lot of mana, it's not a skill to be used in combat. Multiple fractures would require several attempts, with fully recovering magic in between. Now, skin your kill, brother Carl.”

“Are you sure? That's 20 silver …”

“Nonsense. With the kind of luck you've consistently brought us today, I'm feeling good about your chances,” Fleeting Time said happily.

“Okay then, if you insist.”

Doubtful of success, Carl paid close attention to the lines he drew slowly with his knife, concentrating hard, as if every millimeter of deviation could ruin the effort.

“Here goes nothing!”

Pulling the two sides apart, he was mentally preparing himself for the moment they disappear with a silent *puff*, taking his time with deliberate movements.

“Why does it take so long?”

“Uncle Time, how do you–”

“Hmm? Oh, bravo!” The old man clapped with a raucous laugh. “That's what I'm talking about!”

“Congratulations! You have learned the skill [Skinning]!”

[Skinning] (activable)

Dagger skill, grade 0 (base), entry level.

Effects: Provides a basic chance of retrieving the skin of a defeated animal.

Carl grinned from ear to ear, holding a whole black pelt in front of him.

“Good! Very good!” Fleeting Time patted him overly strongly. “Let's go show the girls!”

Stashing his spoils, Carl speedily returned with the grizzled cleric to the rest of the group.

“You're back. I've located another pack, about a dozen with an alpha and one albino,” Lissome Shot informed. “Wait, why is your backpack bigger? Did you get the pelt, grandpa? Awesome!”

“I didn't.” Fleeting Time smiled with forced restraint.

“Brother Carl?” Looming Oak looked on with disbelief. “Did you succeed? Already?!”

Carl didn't say anything. He just pulled out the huge pelt from his backpack and displayed it victoriously with delight.

“You're way too lucky, brother Carl! You're so lucky it even rubs off on us!” Lissome Shot patted Carl in a similar fashion to her grandfather. She really took after her old man.

“Heh, we might even run out of storage space with this much luck!”

“I hope we do!”

After everyone cheered, they enthusiastically launched their next assault.

“So, anyway … I've noticed you guys don't play on full realism, right?”

“Haha, brother Carl, you jest!” Fleeting Time laughed rambunctiously. “For now, nobody is. No one in all of Immortal Frontier is that crazy, or at least I haven't heard about anyone this bold. Learning the ropes has to come first, and in time, well organized groups will start designating their team looters to have a higher realism setting for improved gains. Don't forget, brother Carl – you can feel all the sensations of touch even at no realism, and having your body torn and mangled is traumatically unsettling and disturbing. Our subconscious just can't handle that, and most players are absolutely terrified of getting injured. Then, as you increase your settings, additional discomfort begins to creep in, and the pain intensifies. I shudder at the thought of what it has to be like at full realism. Cybercore themselves, after they run prolonged experiments on both average people and exceptional warriors, issued an official recommendation for all players to begin with the realism turned off and slowly accommodate.”

“So if the looter is at full realism, and the rest of the team at zero, will it yield full gains for him, or what? Because that would be abuse,” Carl investigated.

“I'm certain it won't work like that. It will probably average the loot out for the whole team, though it might also be based on the looter's contribution to the fight. Having a full-realism looter be supported by the team and letting him do all the hard work might be a good idea, if they can handle themselves. But what I mainly imply is that he will get a lot more skill and proficiency gains, driving his abilities, like skinning for example. This would translate into far superior bounties for the whole party.”

“Okay. Sooooo … should I do all the hard work from now on?”

“Haha, you already are, brother– … wait! What do you mean? Are you playing on improved settings?”

Everyone promptly stopped and looked at Carl in shock, while he also slowed down to a halt and turned back to face them, smiling chastely.

“Which setting, the first or the second?” Lissome Shot referred to the compound scale, which went from 0 to 5.

“Full realism.”

“Bull!”

“No way!”

“Nonsense!”

“You're kidding!”

“Tell us you're kidding, brother Carl!”

The bashful Merciful Breeze was the only one who could talk any more, as the other three were momentarily at a loss for words, their jaws dropped and eyes goggled.

“But … you're not even wincing!”

“I do … sometimes,” Carl confessed humbly.

A long and dreadful silence ensued.

“Brother Carl …” Fleeting Time began strangely calmly, shaking his head. “You are … a real monster …”