It was morning, and the main street leading to the South Gate was bustling with foot and wagon traffic as people hurried to work. Exill stood aside from the flow of people, and kept his eyes peeled for those who stood still, or like him, were fixated on the crowd.

Soon, he spotted his quarry, a young boy, dishevelled and wearing rags emerged from a nearby alleyway, looking strangely familiar. He nonchalantly walked past the boy and threw a hand to catch the orphan's arm, quietly slipping into the alleyway with the squirming catch.

“Calm down, I just need directions. Guide me to Old Savta and there’s a shiny Denar in it for you” he whispered hurriedly.

The mute boy stopped struggling, then slowly raised two fingers with a determined look. Exill suddenly recognised him and had the urge to lecture the scoundrel who had guided him to the Inn months earlier.

‘I really needed those two Denars back then, sneaky kid!’ he thought stingily, before placing a single Denar in the boy’s outstretched hands. This time, it would be his turn to cheat him. [Conman] was confirmed to be active prior to starting this opportune experiment.

“One now. One when we arrive.” He assured the bright eyed lad.

[Conman] rose to level 2 upon checking the Card behind the boy’s back. A stab of guilt twisted inside for manipulating the boy, but to be honest, how difficult was it to guide someone for only a few minutes?

Besides, in this cutthroat city where everyone was manipulating and exploiting each other to survive, a single Denar would hardly make a difference. Kindness was a weakness here, and he had realised in this world, and the previous one – good people rarely achieved wealth, and he needed a lot of money fast.

‘But why did I receive the experience when I hadn’t completed the fraud?’ Unlike the residents of this world, he could indirectly calculate experience gained from checking a job’s advancing levels. Even an idiot could tell that a system that rewarded actions that hadn’t been completed was ripe for exploitation.

Exill’s thoughts wandered to the theory of ‘predestination’ while following the kid through winding alleyways. In theology, predestination dictated that the fate of the individual soul had been determined by God upon inception. Basically, it meant that even if you lived like a saint, your deeds wouldn't save you from eternal damnation if you were fated for hell. As a famous Bishop succinctly put it, ‘we are free to do whatever we desire, but we are not free to determine our desires.’

‘But I gained EXP when I lied… what would happen if I were to give the boy another Denar on arrival, turning my lie to truth?’

A cold shiver went down his back as a strong sense of revulsion consumed him. ‘Why should I pay that sneaky brat another Denar, how hard is it guide someone!?’

The two continued through alleyways, Exill’s hatred growing stronger until he was surprised to find the boy had stopped, one hand outstretched for payment and the other pointing at a modest building on the main road. It was a two-storey building that stood out from the rest of the street thanks to the light blue painted façade framed between dark aged timber supports. However, the destination wasn’t what attracted his eyes.

Cold sweat poured down Exill’s face as he glared at the outstretched palm that demanded payment, seconds passing as the boy grew more tense and unsure. The distant roll of thunder could be heard when a trembling hand reached towards his coin pouch.

It was as if the World itself was holding its breath, and an uneasiness gripped his heart, followed shortly by his breath abruptly fogging up in the sudden cold. With great effort, Exill redirected the irrational anger at the boy to the phenomenon that was trying to restrict his movements, his freedom of choice.

[Ping!]

He looked down in bewilderment at the small copper coin that now lay on the boy’s hands. The boy was shivering, his lips blue, legs locked in fear. Exill himself fell to his knees and collapsed, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. This in turn shocked the boy into running away.

Exill stared dumbly at the ground for slow minutes before gathering himself. For a brief blinding moment, he had seen the world in its true awful form, people, mere threads sliding past each other in a giant weave. They had flowed like shimmering silk against the giant golden tapestry of life.

Exill shivered and tried to forget what he had just experienced. It was simply too perfect. There was only madness to be found there. He staggered to a nearby bench overlooking a pleasant fountain where kids splashed around while mothers washed their clothes, finding solace in their ordinariness.

Summoning his Card, he intuitively looked up [Planeswalker]. It held a new skill.

Job Planeswalker Level 8 Description Hidden - Tier I

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

‘You forcibly entered this plane. You are unwelcome and the World rejects you.’ Active Skill: [Rule Break]: The World dares to weigh you down with artificial chains. Why should you submit..?

Warning: skill usage will increase rejection and you will suffer tribulations.

Rejection: 25/100 Passive Buff: [Free Will]: the fabric of fate is torn; you can now see its loose threads

Exill’s ‘rejection’ had increased again, this time by five points.

‘Thank heavens I didn’t experience a tribulation… or did I?’

Patting his hands all over his body, he was relieved to find it was all there, and his Vitality stat was red and full. Maybe he had dodged a bullet, nevertheless, he looked around apprehensively for these ‘loose threads of fate’ he could now supposedly see.

Nothing out of the ordinary leapt at him, and Exill slowly sat back on the bench gathering himself in the morning sunlight. It was strangely pleasant.

‘I’m still going to visit Old Savta, I just need to collect myself… The next moment will be crucial, and I need my full faculties to bear.’ He absolved himself while relaxing under the sun’s rays.

The name ‘Old Savta’ had been mentioned many times outside the Labyrinth, where ruffians would offer to carry wounded mercs to the famed healer for only five Denars. He had sneered at their unwelcome service each time, but over a while, something had changed.

Rumour had it that she had been looking for another apprentice for several years now, indicating a high level of standards, something that could not be easily overcome. However [Conman] obtained last night offered the missing piece to the future he wanted to transition into.

One may ask, ‘Isn’t it enough to be a Mercenary to earn a decent living?’ The answer to which was a resounding ‘Maybe’. There were so many variables and risks involved in earning an income from the Labyrinth. Sure, you could earn hundreds of Denars on a good run, but one tiny mistake could mean you were injured and out of commission for several days, or worse, dead.

With the acquisition of [Witchdoctor], there was a chance for him to obtain a stable source of income. Back at the refugee camp when his eardrums had been damaged, it had cost 40 Denars and a few seconds to heal, the equivalent of two risky delves into the Labyrinth. The experience had left a deep impact and he was determined to break into this lucrative field.

This time, he would be moving up in the world.

***

A young man with captivating green eyes and tousled brown hair sauntered over to the counter, his serious expression looking out of place in someone so obviously young.

“Can I help you… sir?” Savta’s apprentice hesitated, the visitor looked healthy, and it didn’t feel like he was here to settle a treatment debt. Maybe he just wanted to buy some of her grandmother’s famed salves.

“Please take me to Old Savta, I would like to share an amazing discovery involving the Spirit.”

The elf woman tapped her heart twice at the mention of the World’s Will. She paused for a moment, conflicted on bringing yet another stranger making a bold claim to her grandmother. However she was not good with confrontations, that was Savta’s specialty, so she guided Exill to the examination room in the back.

There, seated on a stool, was an old woman with faded blonde hair methodically grinding away on her pestle and mortar. There was a stately calm in her posture and eyes as she looked up from her task. She raised a dignified eyebrow to her granddaughter and apprentice, questioning who this strange young man was.

“This man claims to have heard the World’s Will and came to see you master.” the elf woman curtsied while introducing the guest. Savta unconsciously tapped her heart twice at the mention of the Spirit, but her eyes held a suspicious gaze while examining the stranger.

Exill took a deep breath, the gamble he was about to make hinged on all the will-blessed folklore heard back at Camp. What pushed him to this gambit was the stories of the innumerable apprentices the famed healer had turned away, highlighting her impossible standards.

“Greetings, Healer Savta. I came to find you after the World’s Will bestowed me with a strange job, one that had been previously unheard of. All I know is that it whispered in my ear, I must use this power to heal people. Thus I came to find you, famed healer of Ark in search of guidance.”

Savta tapped her heart again as Exill spoke of whispers of the Spirit, but was still not entirely convinced. This boy had a silver tongue and smelt like the many people who visited her weekly seeking apprenticeship, all of whom she had turned down.

“What is this Will blessed job you speak of, child?” she asked cautiously.

Exill raised his palm upwards, shielding it briefly before holding the Card up to the master and apprentice. “[Witchdoctor], a first of its kind profession” he declared.

Savta scanned through the child’s Card her eyes widening in surprise, his primary job was [Warrior] and the second was [Witchdoctor] just as he had claimed. Exill lowered his palm, covering it briefly, then letting it fall to his side.

“As you can see, I obtained this blessing while hunting in the Labyrinth. A golden wisp floated down to me, and I felt a bell reverberating through my very essence. Before it departed, it told me to use my new powers to heal… and that its powers are related to the life force… and longevity.”

Exill scrutinised the old woman’s response without appearing to do so.

For the people in this world, job and skill descriptions weren’t accessible. This had resulted in the audacious plan to fabricate a claim difficult to disprove. The last part especially, about longevity had been carefully constructed to appeal to Old Savta. [Conman] had been assigned as his third job after allowing the dignified Healer to inspect his Card. Lastly, the sleight of hand had been practiced all night and he was confident she didn’t suspect anything.

Old Savta appeared to lower her guard, handing the pestle and mortar to her apprentice and stood up.

“Follow me upstairs and bring a cup of tea for our guest Luna.”