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Nero Walker (A Slow-Burn Litrpg)
Chapter 7 - Home is where your stuff is

Chapter 7 - Home is where your stuff is

Answering his link, Jennings mentally barked at the interruption, “What?”

“It’s a kid” Mathers said.

“What does that mean? ‘It’s a kid’? What’s a kid?” Jennings replied, his train of thought completely broken.

Mathers replied with a sense of self-satisfaction, “The anomaly is a soul that somehow ended up near Dorchester in the southern Strates. Other than a left over mind imprint, there doesn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary.”

“You mean to tell me that a regular everyday soul caused that much of a disruption of the upper planes? You’re wrong.” Jennings said matter-of-factly.

“I’m not wrong.” Mather’s replied, his joy at Jennings misery coming through the link loud and clear.

“Show me.” Jennings replied while gritting his teeth.

“Alright, I’m on my way.” Mather’s replied and cut the link.

Arch-Mage Jennings closed his analysis of the anomaly, and waited for that blithering incompetent to arrive. He turned to the door just as Mathers walked in with a wide smile on his face.

Not saying anything, Mathers just walked up to the console like it was HIS lab and started entering in scrying coordinates. The view came on and the men saw a young white-haired boy with wide eyes walking through a city.

“This boy is the recipient of the soul. It found a recently deceased body that it resonated with in a merchant caravan raid. You’re looking at the city of Dorchester.” Mathers said and stepped back. “Go ahead and look, you’ll see that his soul isn’t tainted with a planar signature. He doesn’t have a parasite, and is clearly not a planar entity. He is just a boy.” Mathers finished, relishing the annoyance on Jennings face.

Jennings manipulated the controls, and the display filtered through views. He checked everything he could think of. The boy really was just a reincarnated human with a remnant mind imprint. Jennings couldn’t believe it, something must have happened to a soul that went through a planar disruption of that magnitude.

Just as he was about to concede that the soul was perfectly normal, the soul in question leveled. The display threw up alert, after alert. The boy’s soul was POWERFUL. Is he a reincarnated sage? Or a descended sovereign? Who was this boy? Filtering back to a basic view, Jennings pulled up the audio.

The boy was speaking in a flippant tone, “I have no idea why you seem angry, I didn’t do anything. You’ve had someone standing next to me almost the entire time I’ve had a status page…. Um… identity. Is it really so weird to level this quickly?”

The Captain escorting him somewhere replied, “Yes. It’s weird. You have to DO something to grow. You have to commune with who you are as a person. You have to acquire new knowledge and experiences. You have to become more than you were just minutes before. It’s supposed to take time, and effort. You’re not supposed to level by staring at that woman’s ass like you were a few minutes ago.”

The boy smiled like he had pulled a prank. “First of all, you know that everything I’m seeing is brand new to me, considering I don’t remember anything. Second, I’ve learned stuff. Like that vendor over there is selling something called ‘maginopes’ 3 for a 2 valens. And third and most importantly, that woman’s ass was worth some introspection and consideration. You need to start looking around. There is NEVER nothing to experience.” The boy said with a smirk.

Jennings waved and the image went silent, but kept playing. ‘What a clever little shit,’ he thought.

“That totally normal soul just leveled after a few hours of being here. Did you see how innately powerful he is?” Jennings said while bouncing around while smiling.

“I was standing right next to you. This is unprecedented. We need to analyze this data in detail. I’ll call the council. Let me know what happens.” Mathers said as he ran off.

Jennings nodded and conjured a chair to sit down and watch the boy. What an incredibly great day this was turning out to be.

As he watched the boy, he had a thought. Opening a connection to Mathers he said, ‘When you come back, don’t forget to bring snacks.’

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Mrs. Salvatore closed the door behind them, sealing them off from a furious Nick. Nero could hear him swearing that “this is not how a path is formed” and “where the hell did he put his copy of ‘something-or-an-other'". Nero couldn’t help but chuckle. He knew that this was a serious development, but seeing someone who was previously so ‘in-control’ completely lose it was hilarious.

It reminded him of when a doctor came storming into his store because she couldn’t get into her phone. Somehow, her cute little 5 year old daughter had gotten hold of the mom’s iphone. And while they were shopping, she took the opportunity to change the password. The little kid stood next to her mom and told her, without fear of reprisal, that the phone could be unlocked for the price of ‘one giant cookie’. The completely together, professional woman, was flabbergasted when I told her that we can’t unlock her phone without a complete reset, or she could recover her data from the icloud if she had it set up. For a good 30 seconds she just focused on breathing while staring at me. I empathized with her plight, but god-damn that was hard not to laugh at. Then, from the mouth of that little treasure, a sing-song voice could be heard loudly declaring, “oonneee giaant cookiiee for meee”. It eventually all worked out, but it remains one of my fondest memories. Much like how the sight of Nick cursing while flipping through charts in a book will also one day be looked upon with delight.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Well, let’s let him rest up a bit. I’ll talk to him later tonight. For now, let’s get you settled in the dorms.” Mrs. Salvatore said as she guided me toward the elevators.

As we passed through the very large hallways of the Research Center, she filled me in on her updated plan. The new plan still had me staying with the new associates in the dorms, which can be reached only by going through the ground floor and then through the courtyard behind the Center hall (which I surmised was the fancy entry hallway that I saw when the Captain brought me in). She told me that she would take care of contacting the family of Mr. Tipsman and passing on the sad news of the caravan attack. Apparently they ‘would be fine’ she said as they had 12 kids in total. Since dying on the road was not unheard of, they can take comfort that the other 11 were still alive and well.

I tried to wrap my head around the idea that the parents were unlikely to be crushed by the news of this body’s previous host dying. Unfortunately, I found my powers of imagination did not meet the challenge, and I found the situation utterly baffling.

Seeing my trouble, Mrs. Salvatore offered words of encouragement; which were, “Everyone has a personal journey to stand victorious against the troubles that assault us every day. A parent’s job is to arm their children as best they can, but they can’t forget that those children have a journey of their own. Bad things happen, and to focus on them is to ignore all the opportunities for growth that are all around us, everyday.”

After that we walked in silence for a while. I couldn’t help but feel like that was a great outlook, but not a realistic one. I’m thinking most people here just bury their troubles under platitudes, rather than face their issues, because that is what this society demands of them. Everyone ‘being their best self’ sounds great until people have to live in a world which exists longer than a meeting with their local self-help guru.

For about 3 seconds I thought about contacting the parents myself, until I realized that absolutely no good would come from that. I’d be a constant reminder of the son they’d lost. It’s best I never step foot in Oakleaf, or whatever that town’s name was.

Eventually we reached the dorms after walking through the large courtyard, which was more like a quad at a university. Stepping through the doors, I saw a veritable herd of people from teens to young adults and even some people who looked like they were in their late 20’s. It’s going to take a long time before I can make any kind of accurate guess as to what people’s actual ages are here.

In fact, the lady at the counter could be 100 for all I know, as she looked maybe 45. Regardless, she was a very attractive and fit black woman who wore her hair in a braid so tight that it pulled her face taut. Her hawk-like gaze locked in on us the moment we entered into her domain. She wore a burgundy robe without sleeves that looked like one of those cool battle robes. Yet, her most striking feature was her arms, they looked thick, not huge, but thick and carved from marble.

Mrs. Salvatore introduced us, “Ms. Cathleen Averett, let me introduce Mr. Nero Walker, a new addition to our center. His circumstances are unique, and I will ping you a full report later tonight concerning his history. It is not secret, but is not for common gossip.”

Ms. Averett raised an intrigued eyebrow but otherwise said nothing. Mrs. Salvatore continued, “He will be staying here with the associates, however he will most likely be spending the next few mornings with Mr. Salvatore.” At that, Mrs. Salvatore turned to look at me like I was supposed to say something.

I returned a confused stare. Then looked at Ms. Averett and said, “It’s nice to meet you ma’am. Thank you for giving me a place to crash, until I can get a job or find some way to make some cash.” I put my best smile on to ensure that I would be welcome.

Not finding my answer pleasing, she leaned forward a little. Blatantly evaluating me from feet to forehead, seemingly finding only disappointment, she locked her gaze to my eyes and said “You don’t look like you’ve trained a day in your life. How have you been spending your time boy?” She interrupted my response by holding up one hand. “Don’t answer that. I don’t care.” Her black eyes seemed to glow as she stated, “We’ll fix your schedule right quick.”

She then gestured without breaking eye contact to a wide hallway. “Cafeteria is down that hallway and serves meals at all times.” Then she pointed at a large free standing board with papers all over it, surrounded by students. “That is the Center Class-hub. Even if you are not taking associate training, you WILL be taking combat classes at least 3 times a week. I expect to see your name registered for basic combat training by tomorrow.” She finished with a mumble about ‘soft people’, and ‘this country going to hell’. She then picked up some papers and yelled “Heather!”

From a door behind the desk, a young woman came out quickly with a cup in her hand and said softly, “Yes, Ms. Averett?” She didn’t seem bothered by Ms. Averett’s tone at all.

The warrior woman then said, “Watch the counter, I need to go hit something. Thank the gods this day is almost over.” Walking away, she continued her grumbling.

Heather just smiled in amusement and took a sip of her drink. “Are you two taken care of?”

Mrs. Salvatore returned the smile and said, “We need a dorm assignment for Mr. Walker here, and then he’ll be going to get some food, then sleep.” She turned to me than continued, “Don’t mind Cathleen, she comes from an army family from the northern reaches. Up there they tend to focus on paths of physical dominance. If you prove that you're tougher than you look, she’ll treat you fine.” She paused for a second. “Well, she won’t treat you any worse.”

While Mrs. Salvatore was speaking, Heather had collected an information packet and a fine chain necklace with a metal disc with a crystal embedded in its center. “Here,” she said, “this is your identi-key. The key will bond with your link and give you authorization to use Center facilities.” Apparently noting my look of confusion, she elaborated. “The Center has an isolated hub.”

‘OH. It’s an isolated hub…. What the fuck does that mean?”

“Once you touch it to the door disc, the room will be locked to only open for you and the master key, which is in Ms. Averett’s hands. I recommend you never give her a reason to use it. There are 3 standard sets of multi-sized robes, and toiletries are already in the room. The communal rooms are listed on the map, along with the game rooms, and the physical library. As long as you are within the center, and you have your identi-key on you, you can access the library through your link. Now, If you have any questions, this desk is always manned. Welcome to Center’s Rest Dorchester and may you find your path wide and safe.” She finished with a well rehearsed dismissal, then turned back to whatever it was that didn’t involve me.

I said, “Thank you” and took a few steps back along with Mrs. Salvatore. I slipped the key over my head and wore it as a necklace, copying everyone around me. The crystal on it lit up a light blue for a second, then went back to clear. I then turned to my current benefactor and smiled. “I am so very glad that I met you Mrs. Salvatore. My day could have gone a lot worse had I not requested to see a manager.” She chuckled.

“The pleasure was all mine Mr. Walker. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow afternoon. Nick will be in his office waiting for you at 7. Just go to the same floor we met him on earlier. That’s floor 5 if you weren’t paying attention.” She waited for my nod before continuing. “I’ll have more information on your options when we meet later in the day. Nick will give you all the details. Do you have any last questions, before I leave you to explore?”

“I have a thousand, but I guess I can wait for tomorrow. I’ll be at Nicks after breakfast. I’m sure I can figure out how to set an alarm.” I said with a good natured smirk.

She just rolled her eyes and said “You should have a sense of the time now that you’ve awakened. You’re not a child anymore.” She paused and furrowed her brow, “Then again, you had a weird awakening. Before you go to sleep, you should head to the library and look up how to be in touch with your identity. Or just look it up through the link. After all, your identity is how the world sees you. And don’t worry, even if you can’t figure it out, I’m sure Nick will track you down. I don’t think he’ll be letting you get away without a few intrusive conversations.” Then she walked off laughing like she saw a dad get hit in the nuts while trying to teach his kid baseball (you know, that pure laugh of the evil).

I shook my head and headed off towards the cafeteria. I didn’t exactly ignore the class board thing that was full of students, but I decided not to look in that direction. That seemed like a tomorrow problem. My immediate concern was food.