Chapter 35

Victor awoke suddenly, a shout from the common room of the inn bringing him to complete alertness. It took him a moment to remember where he was, which was unusual for him. Normally he was fully oriented upon waking, regardless of circumstance. It was an attribute which had literally saved his life.

He reached to the table, fumbling for a weapon. He always kept a pistol nearby.

But no, he remembered. There were no pistols in this world. Not according to Grant, the man who had given that terrible orientation the night before.

If Victor hadn’t clearly remembered his death, he would have been far more skeptical.

His last memory from the other world was standing in front of a wall, facing down five men with rifles, wondering which of them carried the real bullet.

Turns out that the answer had been all of them. His executioners weren’t playing around.

He sighed. Fortunately nobody had asked him about his past life quite yet. He’d yet to commit to a backstory, although he had several prepared. He supposed it didn’t matter too much which story he selected, so long as it wasn’t the truth.

He wondered if it was even safe to use his real name. How far did his infamy stretch? Should he use an alias?

No, he decided. He would hide behind a false history, but he would use his true name. He was Victor Drakov. That was the name his mother had given him, and he would be damned if he wouldn’t bear it with pride.

“Display status,” he said groggily, and the words lit up before him. He was still getting used to the system, uncertain how to get the menus to appear without using verbal commands, but he would master it quickly.

Name

Victor

Health

100/100

Age

22

Mana

135/135

Race

Human (Outworlder)

Stamina

100/100

Class

Combatant

Strength

10

Level

1

Dexterity

10

Subclass

Ferromancer

Constitution

10

Endurance

10

Curious that his age had changed, he thought. He supposed that whatever system had given him this new body had generated body that was approximately the same as a twenty-two year old rather than giving him an exact copy of his previous body. He was just fine with being twenty years younger. Especially if it meant that his knees and back were that of a young man.

He fumbled with his mind until he figured out how to make the display go away. There was no red X in the corner. There was no visual indication on how to hide the chart at all. Instead there was a purely mental switch to toggle, one which he had to fumble around to find. Once he’d managed it, he attempted to toggle it back.

It took him a moment, but he managed. He toggled it back and forth a few times just to ensure that he had the feeling for it, then he got out of bed and dressed for the day.

It was unfortunate that all he had was peasant’s garb. A tunic and leggings of a rusty color. Hardly suitable, but of course it was better than the alternative. He’d see about clothing himself properly once he got his payment from his summoner. He had no intention of sticking around to see whatever ‘opportunities’ had been prepared for him.

Victor was a man who made his own opportunities.

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He just had to figure out what sort of opportunities his past knowledge and his present abilities allowed him.

Satisfied that he was as presentable as his current situation allowed, Victor made his way to the common room of the inn and took a seat. The innkeeper, eager to please a “Hero” from earth quickly arrived to take his order.

“Whatever is good in this world for breakfast and a bottle of vodka,” he ordered.

The innkeeper stepped away, then returned with a hesitant expression. “Vodka, sir?”

Victor frowned. “Spirits? Alcohol, as pure as you can make it in this world?”

“Ah,” the innkeeper frowned for a moment, considering. “I have several drinks that are eighty-proof, but their flavors differ greatly. Perhaps a sample to select your new preference, since I’ve never heard of ‘vodka’ before.”

“That will be fine,” Victor said. His preference would be vodka, but he really just needed something to take the edge off his nerves. He always had trouble relaxing in cities, and the noise of the bustling commerce outside the inn was getting to him.

His instincts were for a different circumstance in a different world. They didn’t know who he was here. He didn’t know who he was here.

It would take him a while to find out.

The innkeeper returned first with a small platter filled with shot glasses. Victor approved that the man served him with twelve samples. He began sniffing them, deciding which one to wet his taste with.

Three of them smelled fruity, and he immediately dismissed them.

Of the nine that smelled like they were made from some sort of grain, he selected one at random. It burned pleasantly on its way down, but after a moment he decided he didn’t like the aftertaste.

He moved on to the next.

On the fifth one, he selected one that finally met his exacting standards. He nodded to the innkeeper.

“What is this one called?” He asked.

“Kepka,” the innkeeper answered. “It’s distilled from idle-corn. I have several bottles from different distilleries, if you’d like to taste the different variations.”

“Yes,” Victor said.

The innkeeper slid behind the bar and quickly poured another five drinks for Victor. While Victor was enjoying the sampling, the innkeeper quickly slipped into the kitchen to place the order.

The drink was far from vodka. More like a stiff brandy, which was an acceptable alternative in Victor’s book. He tasted each of the samples, spending some time to enjoy them, waiting for the flavor to fade in his mouth before taking the next shot.

“This one,” he informed the innkeeper when he returned, pointing to the location of his selection. “I’ll take an unopened bottle, if you still have one.”

“In the cellar,” the innkeeper confirmed. “I’ll be back in but a moment.”

Victor nodded, and the innkeeper left.

A woman took a seat with him and stared at him derisively. Victor recognized her as one of the others who had come through the portal, or whatever you call their method of arrival.

“I don’t know what time it is because there’s no clocks in this farce of a place,” she began, “But isn’t it a little early to start drinking?”

Victor glared at her. “Thirty-two.”

“What?” she asked.

“Thirty-two. That’s how many different ways I can kill you with only the objects within arms reach. I suggest you get the hell out of my sight before I start counting.”

The woman took on a shocked countenance. “Why I never.”

The fork from a nearby table flew inches in front of her nose. They both flinched in surprise. Victor had done that with a flex of his will. He had envisioned it, and it had happened. He had no idea how it worked.

The woman was quick to flee the room after that, allowing Victor to eat in peace.

~~~~~~

Victor made his way back to the Guild Hall. The alcohol in his veins calmed him enough that he wasn’t jumping at shadows. In fact, he might have overdone it a bit. He was in a new body. He had no doubts about that; he lacked the scars and tattoos of the old one. He apparently also lacked the alcohol tolerance.

The others gave him a look as he showed up drunk, but he ignored them. He was just fine with the impression he was giving off. Let them underestimate him.

Better than realizing who he was, and what he was capable of.

He was greeted at the doorframe – the guild hall was still lacking a front door – by a middle aged man with a clipboard. Typical, he thought. Even in this world there were paper-pushers.

“Ah, name, Sir?”

“Victor Drakov,” he answered. He’d decided on the way not to obscure his last name.

“Class and subclass?” the paper-pusher inquired. The man was dressed in the livery of the palace, not that Victor recognized it as such.

“Does it matter? I’m from Earth, they told me to come back today to get my starting funds.”

“Ah, well, I’m supposed to ask,” the man said, “But I can’t make you answer.”

“What is the most common class for a person from Earth to have?” he asked.

“Well, going by the numbers so far, Craftsperson and Hero,” the attendant said. “But we also have two Teachers and three Merchants.”

“Interesting,” Victor admitted. “Mark me down as a Hero.”

“Another Hero! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir,” the man said, extending his hand for Victor to shake. Reluctantly, Victor accepted the sweaty appendage. “And your subclass?”

“Pugilist,” Victor said. He was reluctant to tell the truth, and if anyone called him out on the difference, well, he’d deal with that situation when it arose. As it was, his three black-belts and boxing championships from his previous life should make up the difference.

“Huh,” the fancy bureaucrat said. “Are you certain?”

“I know how to read a goddamn menu,” Victor snapped.

“Ah, well, it’s just that I was expecting something more … exciting,” the man admitted.

Victor was tempted to show the man exactly how exciting mixed martial arts could be, but he reined himself in. “May I go inside now, or do you have more inane questions for me?”

“Ah, well, there are several more,” the man admitted. “What occupation did you have in your past life?”

“Chemist,” Victor lied seamlessly. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. He did have a masters degree in chemistry. And physics, and several other fields.

“Alchemy? Excellent!” the man exclaimed. “Your knowledge might be even more valuable than your Hero class, Sir!”

Victor cocked his head. “Anything else?”

“Ah, well, I’m only supposed to ask this if you’re not showing signs of difficulty in adapting to this world, but you seem to be handling the transition well. How did your previous life end?”

“Car accident,” he lied once more.

“Unfortunate. I understand you’re the seventh person who died in such a fashion among the heroes. I don’t understand why carriages are so dangerous on Earth, but you have my sympathies,” the man said.

Victor was tempted to tell the man to keep those sympathies to himself. “Is that all?”

“Well, I do have this list of other questions, but you can read it for yourself and see if you have any relevant answers to the questions if you want,” the man said.

Victor took the sheet the man proffered and quickly read the questions. He decided to give a few answers that were both true and relatively harmless. He needed an identity in this world, and it was best to stick with the truth when possible.

“I was an outdoors-man and a survivalist,” he said. “When I was younger I did MMA. Er, mixed martial arts. I was a marksman and a hunter.”

“Ah, excellent sir,” the man said. “Is there anything else you’d like to share?”

“That’s it for now,” Victor declared, giving the questionnaire back to the pencil-pusher. “May I go inside now?”

“Oh, forgive me! I forgot I was blocking the way,” the man said. To be fair to the man, the door was wide enough for five people to enter abreast, so it wasn’t like Victor couldn’t have walked around him. “The others are congregating in the auditorium that was used last night for the presentation.”

“Right,” Victor said. He walked into the Guild Hall and put the interrogation out of his mind.

He was surprised to walk into what looked like a job fair. The stone benches from the previous night were gone – how that was possible when they seemed to have been part of the floor, Victor couldn’t say. Instead there were tables strewn about, with people staffing each of them. Before he could investigate any of them, he was approached by a young woman.

“Hello! I’m Jessica,” she said. “I’m from Earth too, but I’ve been here for a while. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Victor,” he said. He was far less reluctant to shake the hand of this beautiful young girl than he had been the man at the door.

“So, yeah, it kinda looks like a job fair, doesn’t it?” she said. “I guess that’s exactly what it is, too. Have you thought about what you want to do in this world?”

“I’m willing to pursue a variety of opportunities,” he said judiciously. “What can you tell me about the current political climate? How many nations are on this continent? Where are the tensions?”

Jessica frowned, glanced around. “I guess it’s not really a secret. The truth is that, politically, things are looking sort of dire. See, one of the countries is collapsing. Their Core Stones are all poisoned or something and their entire system is breaking down. They’re expecting them to go to war with one of its neighbors, but we’re not sure if that’s going to be Welsius or another country.”

“War?” he asked, mimicking a concerned expression.

“Yeah, but we’re not being conscripted into the army or anything.” She paused and examined him. That was fine, he’d given her the same treatment when he’d met her and found her most appealing. “If you’re military or something, I’m sure that the king would appreciate having you in his knights. If that’s something you’re interested in.”

“I’ll take it under consideration,” Victor said.

“Right. Well, feel free to wander around and talk to everyone,” she said.

“I’ll do that,” Victor said. He was a little reluctant to leave the young lady behind. She was less than half of his true age, but he had a new body, and she didn’t look much younger than he did any longer. He checked her out one last time before wandering off. He allowed half of his mind to fantasize as he walked about, speaking with the various stations that had been set up for the people from Earth.

None of the prospective employers appealed to him.

No, no, he’d make his own opportunities in this world. Just as he had in the last.

He just needed a bit of time to explore this world to figure out what sort of opportunities were available for him to create.