Tom listened intently, hoping they would continue gossiping. Every little morsel of information was welcome; he was as a starving man, and even the smallest piece felt like a godsend to him. He knew he needed to learn more.
Thankfully, Delilah continued:
“If you really find the expense of the ritual distasteful, I have good news for you. You’ll be pleased to know that this is the final generation.”
“They said that two years ago, too.” The man complained immediately. “The council even voted on it. It was locked in. We were no longer going to support the drain. In the end, the vote was almost unanimous, because all the locals who actually pay taxes and vote for the council members hated it. Most of these kids are from adventurers, and you guys don’t pay for a thing. Do you know the rituals were adding, like, one whole percent to our tax rate? It was a crazy expense.”
“And an equally crazy benefit for those lucky enough to receive it.” She shot back.
“That us taxpayers shouldn’t have to cough up. Let the brats’ parents pay it. That is, if they think it’s actually worthwhile.”
The woman snorted. “The higher powers had a different idea. It was the priests who overruled your bean counters. Are you really going to argue against DEUS?”
“The priests are probably corrupt.”
The woman responded to that claim with a low whistle. “Man, you’re losing it. This isn’t earth. DEUS is real, every one of us knows it… Seriously? Corrupt priests? How do you even imagine that working? I can’t imagine what level of blasphemy that would even count as, them ascribing words falsely to her.” The way she referenced the word blasphemy was enough to send chills down anyone’s spine. Tom, with his own experience, agreed with her. You did not mess with the GODs. “There’s no way the priests are taking her name in vain.”
There was an awkward pause. “She can… um… well, the designs of the GODs are beyond mortal minds like us.”
“Quite. Now, are you going to read that?” She sounded very happy to change the subject.
Tom would have felt the same. Discussing what the GODs did when they were disrespected was never enjoyable.
“We only have a limited amount of time.”
“Is it really necessary?”
Delilah laughed at that:
“It’s not a command of a priest, so I guess you technically have some leeway, but are you really brave enough to go against Eden of the Green?”
There was another embarrassed silence.
“Is she even real?”
“Is magic real? What kind of silly question is that? Yes, you thick idiot, she’s real. Very much so. With some of the ignorant things you say, one would think that you’ve spent the last fifty years locked away in your workshop without talking to a single person.”
The man chuckled, not at all offended by her acerbic tone:
“That’s pretty much what I’ve done. I’ve put my head down and done my job. I’ll have you know my ranking is below a thousand. That’s better than most of you adventurers.”
“I know,” Delilah said, sounding apologetic. “It wasn’t intended as a dig. But yeah, she’s real. I’ve met her. She’s so fucking competent when out in the field it gives me goosebumps. I’m good, but she’s on a different level. When she’s in a camp she’s scary, obsessed with the reincarnated ones. I’m not sure she talks about anything other than them and plans to farm ranking points. She’s got a two tracked mind.”
“Yeah, but what can she do to me?”
“Well, the last person to skimp on reading her message got thrown into a darkhole trial.”
“That’s cold. But was that really just for not reading the stupid message? Or did they have other infractions? Was this just the straw that broke the camel’s back?”
“It was just about the message. The guy had apparently been a saint apart from that one mistake, and the outcome was worse than you think. He used to be a crafter, and was forced to enter a darkhole trial. I mean, what the hell? I don’t know what’s in there, but far stronger people than him had entered and never emerged. He didn’t have a chance. She basically executed him.”
“Totally unhinged.” The man agreed.
“She’s intense, but I’ve met crazier. The punishment was because a reincarnated kid got killed due to his mistake.”
“So, you’re saying I don’t need to bother with this.” There was the sound of rustling paper. “Honestly, what’s the chance of there being one in this batch?”
“What’s the chance of a reincarnated one here?” she said thoughtfully. “This late in the competition, I would have said close to zero, but that was before the priests insisted the ritual goes on. DEUS isn’t doing this for nothing. So yeah, I wouldn’t bet against it.”
“We’re warded. No one would know if I didn’t read it.”
“Seriously! Are your brains rotted? Are you really considering not reading it? We’re talking about priests and Eden of the fucking Green. You’d have to be…” There was a moment of stunned silence. “All I can say if you don’t, then I’m going too. I don’t want to be sent to the darkhole because I’m associated with you.”
The gruff man cleared his throat and laughed nervously. “I’m joking, of course. I’m not about to neglect my duty. I’m not suicidal.” There was the rustle of paper. “Listen up, kids. I know this is a shock, and the ritual is the opposite of pleasant, but it’s done. We’ve wasted more credits than is sensible, but your human bloodline has advanced a notch. Congratulations, you’ve received a massive bonus and a head start most of the human race will never get.”
“You should probably stay away from editorialising why you do this.”
“Eden’s not going to care.”
Tom heard Delilah chuckle:
“You haven’t met her.”
“Now…” there was the sound of paper being repositioned; then the way the gruff man was speaking changed. Now it was like he was reading off a sheet instead of repeating stuff from memory. “The ritual has stunned you for ten minutes, so this message can be delivered in full without you betraying any reactions. If you are reincarnated, your life is in imminent danger.”
Shock went through Tom. The early conversation had primed him for this, so it wasn’t a total surprise, but still - his life being in peril? This was not what he had expected.
“Eyes away from them…” Delilah hissed.
“Are you seriously policing me?”
“No, I volunteered to stop you from doing something stupid because I like our arrangement. But you need to stick to protocol. You. Don’t. Know. Shit. There could be someone out there watching you.”
The gruff man obviously took the warning because he was quick to continue his reading:
“Reincarnated human children have been hunted by hired assassins since the first years of the competition. Significant expense has been taken to protect you, but rank discrepancy means our obfuscation attempts are not perfect. You are responsible for your own survival and cannot rely on our protections. To facilitate this, it is recommended that you hide your special nature until you have sufficient power to defend yourself from rank sixty assassins.” The man paused for a moment. “As if any of these kids are going to ever be strong enough to face a threat like that. What a dumb piece of advice to give. It should read you’ll need to stay hidden until the end of the competition, because that’s the best they’ll manage.”
“Stop opinioning and bloody read it. You need to be finished before the stun wears off.”
Tom managed to not outwardly react to the statement. But his pulse quickened. Were things truly that dangerous? If they thought they had to make an announcement, then it probably was.
He focused on not reacting, on preventing his heart rate from spiking while his mind raced. Did this threat apply to him? Obviously, it did, but it also didn’t. Every second thought spiralled back to the options he had been given after he had died. They were more nuanced at their heart, but for Tom, when choosing between them only two options had been considered. Oblivion or at least a wipe of his memories so his future life wouldn’t be plagued with regrets of failures. Or reincarnation under the proviso, that he would be given a genuine chance of making a difference in the competition. If his presence could allow humans to place high enough in the competition to prevent the spiral of humanity into extinction, then he would willingly try again.
That was his requirements, and he knew DEUS, and the GODs rarely made mistakes.
Him being alive, within the bounds of the ninety-year competition, meant he would receive that chance. That fact precluded him dying to assassins before he had the personal power to stop them. Such an outcome was not something that DEUS would allow. While the threat almost certainly existed, and he would follow advice to protect himself, Tom was certain that he personally wasn’t at risk, providing he did nothing stupid.
This was a case of being alert but not alarmed. But he was not naïve, Existentia was not a soft place, people died in it. He had died in the first year here, half of his friends too. It was a brutal, savage existence, and the competition made it even more so. If the assassins came, then there would be collateral damage and, while he might be protected by the terms of his reincarnation, those around him wouldn’t be. It was vital he kept his head down and not be responsible for the deaths of innocents because of his carelessness.
“Whatever,” the male voice groused. “The ritual you have just experienced has served two purposes. The first is that it upgrades your human bloodline. I’m sure you can all appreciate the advantage that will give you.”
Those words felt weird to Tom. From what he could remember, the human bloodline had been weak and barely worth the effort. The benefits were marginal at best, but that was not what the carefully crafted message must have been suggesting. The man kept going, oblivious to the confusion in Tom’s head:
“Second, the ritual unlocks dormant memories early for everyone over three and three quarters. By forcing the unlock, we can deliver this message before the dominant personality reestablishes itself randomly between the ages of five and six. When that happened at the vagaries of chance, most reincarnated ones had been identified by our enemies before they even knew they were in danger. I have to repeat this: you are responsible for your own survival, no one else is. Others who have reincarnated recommend that you let your most recent childhood memories guide your actions for the foreseeable future and only act out of character when alone in the various heavily warded locations throughout the city.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“I’m impressed, Pete. Word for word. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you believed that Eden of the Green was watching.”
“I don’t know. With all the protections in place, I doubt it’s possible, but I’m not taking any risks when it comes to the top fifty freaks.”
Delilah laughed again. She clearly enjoyed teasing him and ruffling his calm:
“Are we done here?”
“Almost,” he sounded annoyed. “They added a passage.” He switched to his reading voice. “Now that your racial bloodline has been upgraded continue to focus on developing your fate usage. Experimentation is the key to greater power.” There was a sigh. “And we’re done. Kids, you don’t know me, and you’ll probably never see me again. I don’t volunteer at the orphanage, and that’s by design. For the next week, you’re in partial lockdown. In a minute or two, you’ll regain control of your body. As per protocol, all adults have been cleared from this area of the city. There’s a clear path to the orphanage, and there’s party food there to celebrate your new status. Please head straight there. If you delay too long, automations may activate to herd you.”
“You are actually scared of her.”
“Shut up. Let’s pack everything and go.”
“Hey, Pete, it feels strange to leave them here like this.”
“What are you suggesting, Delilah? It’s protocol I’ve done this before. They’ll be fine.”
“But they’re kids.”
“Are you really proposing that I go against Eden the fucking Green?” He parroted her words back to her. Then his voice softened. “It’ll be fine. This is the ritual grounds. It’s probably the most defended place in the city. The rules, the protocols that you were so keen for me to follow, state that no one is allowed to observe them closely after the awakening.” He lowered his voice further. “They’ll be locked in the orphanage, and even parents face restrictions there. Those that visit too regularly get banned for an entire week. Adventurers who only swing by every few months are given a leave pass, but that’s for only half an hour.”
“And the regular volunteers?” Delilah sounded thoughtful. “Are they kept on to provide stability?”
“Nope. They get a forced week off.”
“The poor kids. This entire thing must be so traumatic for them.”
“The theory is that a significant amount of the assassins’ information gathering is done by getting into our brains. If any human identifies someone as reincarnated, then the aliens can, too. If we’re all blind, that protects them. Kind of creepy if you think about it. Having aliens scry through my eyes.”
“Oh, totally.”
There were the sounds of a sloppy kiss.
“Gross,” Delilah complained half-heartedly. “You can’t do that after what you just said. It’s like I’m kissing an alien.”
The man laughed. “Coming from you of all people that’s funny. I bet to you the idea is a turn-on.”
There was the noise of more deliberately loud kissing. They were, Tom realised now, exhibitionists. Yes, they were only kissing, but yuck… didn’t they realise dozens of kids were listening? Then again, none of the normal children were going to have the maturity to understand what they were hearing, and the amorous exchange was not because of them.
It was triggered by the idea of aliens watching them.
Once more, all he could think was yuck!
“Yeah, I thought so. We’re done here and you’re obviously in the mood. Let’s go have some fun.”
There were sounds of footsteps retreating, and Tom’s mind was in turmoil.
There were assassins out there, hunting him and people like him. From what little information he had, it could be gauged that the humans had reacted by putting systems and controls in place to mitigate the risks. But these were not perfect, and that was why hiding his nature was his responsibility now. He had to find a way to utilise his younger self to allow himself to blend in seamlessly.
But how? That was the question he needed to answer. The memories were there, but actually taking and using them as a basis for action was more complicated. When he thought about moving his arm, it was as Tom and not as Ta like his younger self had been named. There had to be a better way. The message that had been read out to him had almost confirmed it.
But what?
He concentrated his mind focused on the desire. Something had to be there.
There was a ding.
It was a sound he instantly recognised, and smiled in anticipation. He wondered if his desire and situation had created a skill to help him. If so, it would be surprising to get a solution so easily. Without hesitation, he stepped sideways, and a moment later he was in the familiar surroundings of his system room.
Soothing plain metal walls greeted him, which was just the way he liked it. Then, before he could make any order, the wall directly in front of him transformed. A poster had appeared there, its font large enough for him to read from where he stood.
Congratulations, you have received a title.
Title: Hunted Reincarnated:
This title grants two benefits.
* Prevents all scrying techniques that use the individual’s senses from revealing any knowledge that might identify them as reincarnated.
* Grants access to the pseudo-system room.
The pseudo-system room, unlike the standard version, which is not available until ten (earth years) have passed, can be used at any point in a person’s life. It is not the standard room and has a reduced set of functions, which include:
* Storage and recall of notes created within a system room.
* Full access to all personal research carried out in past lives.
* The full archive of generic information, as per the tutorial, remains available.
* Functionality that allows the body to act independently while the main consciousness is in the pseudo system room. This means, unlike normal an observer cannot tell when the pseudo system room is in operation.
* An integrated sensory screen to track what the body is doing while the space is in use.
The pseudo-system room does not provide access to the following functions that you might be used to:
* Viewing and purchase privileges of any auction house.
* Access to the experience shop, including for research and browsing.
* The capability to view the status sheet.
The primary downside to the pseudo-system room is the 8: 1 time dilation that is in effect when you are in it. Every minute in it is equivalent to ten minutes in real life.
* Awarded for: Being reincarnated in a competition while an active operation to hunt all reincarnated humans is in operation.
* This title grants no experience or ranking points and is hidden from everything other than yourself, DEUS and SUPREME.
Tom read the details, and then read them again as he attempted to understand what this title offered.
First of all, it shielded him completely from some forms of scrying, which was a relief. Tom knew for a fact there were skills out there that could effectively look through your own eyes and allowed the sharing of thoughts. If they were used at the right time, a reincarnated person would be revealed even if externally they had done nothing suspicious. The title protecting the reincarnated ones from such a vulnerability was a true boon. Without such protection, the assassins hunting them would have found all of them easily enough, no matter what defenses the older humans had installed.
The knowledge curiously felt first-hand, even though, as far as he could tell, he had never had any strong scrying skills. That was another mystery presented by his missing memories that he would need to resolve at a later time.
The next most important bit was the section in the provided functions which would allow his body to act independently while he was in the system room. It sounded like the pseudo-system room was undetectable, unlike the adult version. The rest of him would continue to interact and even converse naturally while his mind was elsewhere.
A video screen had appeared on his right once he had read the text, and he took a moment to study what it was broadcasting. It was like watching a first-person video that had been put on fast forward. His body staggered to its feet, moved dizzyingly fast, linked arms with a girl with multi-coloured eyes and a tear-streaked face. The two of them hugged and then took a jerky trip across the circle. He and the girl weaved through the milling upset children until they reached the biggest kid in the area. Then they left as a trio. Once they hit the street, they seemed to move so fast, it was as though they were sprinting.
Watching it was disorientating, so he pulled his eyes away from the TV. Seeing a young child, one barely beyond the toddler stage, moving almost too rapidly for his mind to register, drove home exactly how big of a contraction that 10:1 ratio actually represented.
He thought furiously, trying to integrate the ability the title gave him with his long-term plans and what he had learned from Pete and Delilah.
This had to be what the note had been referring to. A hidden title that all those reincarnated got. Hidden, so no one knew about it, which was why they talked around it in code. If he left this active, he would be perfectly safe. The title guaranteed that no one could see through him and notice his more mature brain behind that of the child. That was the good, but the bad was the time dilation.
He glanced at the screen.
They crossed a room in a jumble of images. Tom saw couches, a water tap, a monster’s head with fangs as long as his forearm mounted on the wall. Then they entered what was best described as a hall or gymnasium.
Less than three seconds of relative time had passed for him. It really drove home how punitive that time dilation was. Staying in his system room was costly, but it was also safer. Was using this continuously the solution? Or did a middle ground provide a better balance?
Or was he thinking about this in a wrong way entirely? Was this pseudo-room a Trojan horse left to trick people into using it to stunt their growth? His memories were fuzzy but he was certain to his core that an evil trick, a perfect apple hiding poison, was something that enemy GODs could subject them too. If he relied on the pseudo room exclusively for his safety and his body got in trouble, then what? He would have to intercede, and the change in behaviour, no matter how brief, would be a red flag to whoever was watching.
Tom pondered the issue and then decided to forge ahead as normal to distract himself.
“Show status screen.” He ordered.
He was expecting a list with his frankly terrible attributes to appear, but instead, nothing happened. The wall continued to display his new title and a noticeable absence of additional useful information.
“System, what’s happening?”
The system is not available in the pseudo-system room.
Then the title flashed to draw his attention to it. Specifically, the items that were excluded.
Tom’s frown deepened.
The majority of the functionality that he was used to, that would have made staying in the system room more tolerable by allowing him to research, was missing. The easy access to the auction house, the experience shop and even the list of skills, spells, traits and titles were not visible for him to use in planning.
“Did any of my titles carry through?”
The system is not available in the pseudo-system room.
“Shit, shit,” he muttered to himself. “How do I find out if any titles have been carried through?”
This time there was no answer, not even a flicker to draw his attention to the title like it had before. There was absolutely no reaction. He wondered if he was going to be blind to his progress until he turned ten or if there was another way to infer or determine the details of his status sheet in the meantime.
“How do I deal with this?” he asked, knowing there would be no response. All he could do was make a note and move on. Mentally he wished the item to join his to do list and the wall to the left flickered.
To do.
1.
2. Plan a build.
3. Confirm the current state of competition and humanity.
….
28. Track down a suitable method to allow viewing of status sheet.
He chuckled. This had to be some sort of record he had only been reincarnated for a few minutes, and already had a list of stuff to do longer than his arm.
With a thought, he dismissed the helpful list. He knew everything it said, but it was good practice to keep track of his tasks to ensure nothing slipped through.
On the screen, he could see that his body had moved once more. It was now in a dark, dimly lit area.
“Man up,” he told himself. There were two options. The first was to play his new life passively. That involved spending the next few years in this pseudo system room only emerging occasionally to use his fate and practices skills. It had the advantage of ensuring that he would remain safe, but he couldn’t see an approach like that making him strong enough before the competition ended.
With a thought, he entered his body. Sacrificing ninety percent of his time by cowering in his system room was not acceptable. For the next week, no adult who knew him would be in contact. If he was going to make mistakes, blending into the new life now was the time to do it.
When he opened his eyes, he found he was crouching in the equivalent of a blanket fort created from a mixture of old broken spears and the cured pelts of insignificant monsters. His memories told him that his two best friends were with him, as was a bowl filled with sweets and chocolates.
“Ta cried.” Bir poked him. Her emerald eye looked almost sinister in the light, especially next to the plain brown one.
Tom remembered the tear-streaked cheeks she had when they had been coming back. “It’s okay. The ritual hurt, and it was a traumatic situation. There was no shame in crying.”
They both looked at him in confusion kind of like he had grown a second head.
What had just happened? Had he broken some sort of rule by accident? Whatever had caused it had struck them dumb. His mind went over his actions with mounting panic to work out his mistake. He had only been trying to make her feel better.
Then he realized what he had done.
He wanted to hang his head in embarrassment. Two seconds! Only two seconds. That was how long it had taken him to break his cover. It must have been a record, and he half expected a ding to signify him getting some sarcastic title. Luckily, it wasn’t that type of system.
They were still staring at him. Confusion in their eyes. He attempted to find the right thing to say. The memories of his younger self came to the fore. “I didn’t cry. You cried worst. You… you were like a crybaby.”
He shoved her, and she tackled him back. And then they were wrestling.
“You’re the crybaby.”
“No, you are.”
Pa tried to separate them. There was a spark between them as their hands briefly made contact, Tom guessed it was some kind of static electricity. He felt himself being pulled away from Bir and at an unspoken signal as one they both turned on the bigger boy. A minute later they broke apart laughing with Bir taking the excuse to grab some chocolates.
Mentally, he was still in shock at slipping up so early. It was time to learn how to be a four-year-old. Something told him it was going to be a long few days.