“What do you people do with your time when you’re at home?” asked Terry as they sat around the table and ate breakfast.

Jaban looked over at him with a curious expression and said, “The usual stuff. Read. Eat. Spend time with family. Sometimes, I train. I guess it depends on how long I’m there.”

“He’s not wrong,” said Ekori, “although not everyone is as lazy as he is.”

“Hey, I’m not lazy,” said Jaban before Ekori lifted an eyebrow at him. “Well, I’m not lazy all the time.”

“I typically do what I can to help mother with her…” Ekori trailed off. “With her business matters.”

Terry wasn’t sure what business matters was standing in for, but it was Ekori’s affair if she wanted to keep it secret. Terry sure as shit didn’t want anyone else’s secrets cluttering up his brain. That made it easy to not ask the socially awkward follow-up question that she clearly expected based on the tense look she wore. Instead, Terry looked at Haresh.

“I do whatever my wife tells me to do,” he said.

It was the kind of thing that Terry had heard people on his own world say, but it lacked any of the bitterness he remembered. If that situation bothered Haresh at all, there was no evidence of it. Terry wondered if there wasn’t a whole lot more to that story. There almost had to be. Is it just time? Has Haresh lived long enough to work out his insecurities? Man, that would be nice, thought Terry. He’d come a fair distance on those since he got thrown face-first into this isekai deathtrap of a situation. The old Terry, programmer Terry, would have gone off to meet that noble just to avoid having an awkward conversation. With no support system in this place beyond the other three people at the table, he couldn’t afford to be that way anymore. Being weak-willed was the kind of thing that got people killed in the books, manga, and anime he’d see.

“Of course,” said Ekori, “most people work.”

“I work,” said Terry.

“No, you kill monsters when they stumble out of the forest and into your way,” said Haresh. “It’s not quite the same as working.”

“Don’t kid yourself. Killing that plant monster was work. Wretched thing damn near killed me.”

“Why do you ask?” said Ekori.

“Well, the house is more or less in shape. I’m trying to figure out what to do with myself today.”

It was true. With four superhumans putting in an effort, it hadn’t taken long for them to get the house in shape. Even if it would have gone faster if any of us had the slightest clue about things like construction or agriculture, griped Terry mentally.

That’s what you get for not asking, interjected other-Terry. I could have given you all kinds of useful tips if you didn’t shit your pants every time you think about giving me even the slightest leeway.

You have yet to convince me that your end goal is anything other than turning me into a murderhobo, replied regular-Terry.

First of all, said other-Terry, that’s a ridiculous term. I mean, seriously, you had an entire planet full of people and you couldn’t come up with something better than that?

Regular-Terry rolled his mental eyes and said, We’re willing to eschew elegance in favor of pure descriptiveness. I see it as a net good.

Of course, you do, said other-Terry. Now, on to my second and far more important point. What goddamn benefit do I get from turning you into a crazed, bloodthirsty, murder machine? Oh, and third of all, if that was my goal, why would I know anything about construction and agriculture? That doesn’t strike me as essential information for converting basically sane people into psychopaths.

Well, said regular-Terry, the greatest trick the devil ever pulled—.

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Hey, don’t you go quoting The Usual Suspects at me, shouted other-Terry. That movie was too good to be sullied by having its dialogue come out of your mental mouth. And that quote doesn’t even apply here.

That’s what I’d expect the devil to say, said regular-Terry piously. Besides, how do you even know about that movie?

It’s in your memory, dumbass. Hell, I probably remember it better than you do.

Terry blinked a few times in confusion, wholly uncertain what that even meant. Why would that other personality remember it better than him? Before he could ask, other-Terry answered the question.

I’m not limited by the flesh prison of consciousness you call a brain. I can retrieve the information more efficiently than you can. Incidentally, that applies to the parts that you can’t recall because your brain stored that data somewhere stupid and unrelated, said other-Terry with a lot more smug than seemed entirely called for in regular-Terry’s opinion.

He was about to follow up on that last bit but realized that the real-world conversation was about to continue. Since regular-Terry and other-Terry had been conversing at the speed of thought, only a second or two had passed.

“Well, you could try working, you know, on purpose,” suggested Jaban.

“So could you,” said Terry.

“I’m not a rank two. I doubt there’s a contract at the guild hall that you couldn’t finish. That is not true for me.”

Terry couldn’t fault that logic, try though he might. He did weigh the possibility of just going and claiming a contract before he rejected the notion. There was that nagging feeling that something was lurking and spying just out beyond the edge of his land. If he was going to go and put in some effort, he should probably apply that effort to securing his own property. What a novel idea, observed other-Terry. Making sure you don’t get stabbed in the back by a problem you’ve been ignoring. That’s almost smart. Regular-Terry let that comment go unremarked. It wasn’t because he chose to rise above. He simply couldn’t think of a pithy comeback. With thought-speed conversations, he didn’t even get that one-second pause between comments that he got with out-loud conversations. If he was dealing with other-Terry and didn’t have the comeback instantly, the opportunity was gone forever.

“Maybe I’ll try working on purpose some other day,” Terry finally said. “I’ll have to. I’m going to go broke if I don’t. Before that, though, there’s something else I need to go look into.”

“What’s that?” asked Haresh.

“Something is out in the forest. I’ve felt it. Sooner or later, I get the feeling it’ll grow tired of just watching. I figure it’s better to go deal with it than wait for it to be ready. If nothing else, I might be able to scare it off.”

“Do you want some help?” asked Ekori.

“Not this time. Maybe if I knew what it was, I’d take you along. But I don’t want to take any of you with me just to find out it’s something I can’t handle. If that happens, I doubt you’d survive to warn anyone. If I don’t come back, you need to inform the guild. It means that they need to send a rank one here, or maybe a couple of them.”

“Do you think that’s what’s going to happen?” asked Jaban, looking both worried and oddly eager.

“Probably not,” said Terry. “Still, it doesn’t pay to assume. I doubt anything like that could really keep itself hidden for long. Too much power concentrated in one place to go unnoticed. Then again, I am new here. Maybe that kind of concealment is possible for monsters.”

“Not that I’m aware of,” said Haresh with a frown. “But I can’t say that I’ve ever actually seen a monster that would give a rank one a real fight.”

“They must exist, though, right?” asked Terry. “Otherwise, what the hell would those rank one adventurers do with themselves?”

“Oh, they exist,” said Haresh. “We hear about them through the guild. I’ve just never seen one, which I take as a blessing. Like you said, I doubt I’d have survived an encounter with something like that.”

Terry nodded, but his mind was already halfway out the door. If he was going to go, this was the time to do it. Darkness wasn’t quite the impediment it had been to him, but he’d much rather hunt something in the light of day. If he could find tracks, he might even be able to learn something about whatever it was. He was aware that there was math that could give him an idea about the size and weight of something from the size and depth of footprints. He didn’t know how to do that math, but he could probably make some educated guesses. He pushed back from the table and started making his way toward the door.

Dusk came barreling out of whatever shadow she’d been hiding in. Terry knew that the kitten was more formidable than she seemed after killing all those snakes. He also thought that, much like Drumstick, the kitten understood what she heard perfectly well. Her coming running when he was getting ready to leave was just another little bit of proof on the ever-growing pile o’ evidence. The problem was that he had no clue what he might find. When they’d been traveling on the road, there had been no choice but to accept a certain level of danger for her. Now, there was a choice. He’d rather not risk the kitten’s life for no good reason. Reaching down to scratch between the kitten’s ears, he stage-whispered to her.

“I need you to stay here and keep an eye on Jaban. I’m pretty sure he’ll fall into a well and drown if left to his own devices.”

“Hey!” shouted Jaban.

Dusk looked up at Terry with her very blue eyes before she turned her attention on Jaban. She seemed to study the young man before giving Terry what he thought was likely an annoyed look. Then, she walked a bit closer to Jaban, sat down, and stared at him. Haresh and Ekori watched this play out before bursting into laughter.

“That’s not funny,” said Jaban, only to be ignored.

Terry smiled to himself and slipped out the door.