Thursday, April 18th, 2069

“What if Morgan Hallsbrad was a Skill broker?” Smegma said while scratching his ear. “But instead of buying the skills from the shop he had the Extraction sub-skill and was taking powerful skills from people.”

“You’re thinking he had Extraction, and Merchant?” Dave said, as he pulled up the information on Extraction. With wide eyes he then pulled up a browser window and moogled the murders that had plagued the eastern coast of the United States. I couldn’t speak for Smegma or Dave but the growing pit in my stomach told me they were onto something.

“Ahh, but a lot of the dead were F-to-D-Ranked,” Dave said after a quick pass over an article.

“Excuse me if I don’t have faith in your worlds measurement standards,” Smegma answered as he gestured to me. I began to nod in agreement before freezing—

“No, Dave’s still got a point. Why would Morgan attack people that were rated as F-rank. Wouldn’t it be more likely that he targeted me by coincidence?”

“What if someone he worked for could read skills?” Dave countered, his voice sounding like he was still thinking through that theory. “Like the guy you said was at the meeting with Mr. Varnish!”

Smegma’s black eyes widened as he pointed to Dave in acknowledgement. “The skill Diplomacy I mentioned wouldn’t work, because of the requirements—but if someone had Eyes of Truth or similar…”

“Eyes of Truth?” I interjected, wanting some more information.

“It’s a skill that can see information about the target. At low ranks it showed us Crendalarians the names of targets. Then as it ranked up it would start to give more—like Mana, Force or Stamina Pool figures. Eventually even listing skills.” Smegma paused for a moment looking distant, then added, “But it was prohibitively difficult to rank up.”

“Still, it doesn’t have to be the same skill,” Dave said, taking up the string Smegma had left hanging. “If we're right, all the owner of the skill has to do is have passed by these targets, seen their skills, and marked them as something more valuable then the UNMH believed. We can’t prove any of this—for example where would this person have come across Brodie?”

Up to that moment I had felt like the threads of a mysterious tapestry were being untangled and woven together to paint a picture—but with Dave’s last line they started to knot back up. Right up until I actually replayed what I had been doing the days leading up to the attack. The long days waiting in line to see Arnando.

With a brush of my wrist I took back my laptops mouse pad and entered my own search. The dates for Arnando’s photoshoots came up and I resized the window to place it beside the articles list of homicide victims.

My heart started beating rapidly, thumping in my ears even as I felt my feet and hands go numb. The dates mostly coincided—while only some locations did.

However, my family had driven to Toronto for the shoot, and the attack had happened in Windsor. So, location could be in the vicinity…

The room was silent as I pulled up a map and checked some of the locations. I started dropping pins and stared as the pattern began to snap into place. Some of the dates weren’t perfect because two or three victims fell inside the range of the shoot.

“Husk me!” Dave hissed. “It’s Arnando!”

That statement bounced me out of my shocked stare and allowed me to hear some of my own thoughts on the matter. “I doubt it,” I said. “Why would a world renowned photographer be involved in something like this. He shouldn’t need the money…”

“That’s true, but how many staff members were at the shoot? How many other participants?” Dave asked.

Smegma had been staring between the screen and me while staying quiet to that point. Every so often he would vigorously scratch at his head—like there was something there he wanted to remember but couldn’t. “We should probably show this to that Stovall woman,” he said, breaking his silence. “Maybe she can pull some strings to investigate the picture shoot guy.”

I nodded to Smegma’s point but then returned to Dave’s to address both of them. “Well, there were thousands for sure—so if it’s a ‘participant’ it would be pretty easy to hide amongst the crowd.”

Dave held up a finger. “But would there be a list of people who got pictures taken multiple times over every event?”

I shook my head. “This time you’ve presented the fallacy,” I said jokingly. “He wouldn’t have to get pictures taken each event. Just be in line or milling about for a few days. There were so many people there I don’t think I would recognize anyone, other than the people who immediately surrounded me.”

“What if the skill has requirements like Diplomacy, though?” Smegma countered. “Like the guy had to use a tool or circumstance to read peoples skills. Was there anyone acting oddly?” Smegma paused but then sheepishly added, “Other than paying absurd sums for images of themselves…”

“You just couldn’t let that opportunity to go by?” I said distractedly, over Dave’s guffaw. My mind was buzzing as it tried to pull up memories from my peripherals on the days leading up to the photoshoot. I could recall some assholes arguing with each other over saving spots. A woman breaking down into hysterics because she’d woken up with acne on the morning she was supposed to head in.

But nothing stood out as odd to me. Right up until I recalled that moment with the drunken man, as I left. It had been around noon and while the people could drink whenever they wanted—it wasn’t like this was a football game and he was tailgating. Plus, his yellowing skin and eyes suggested he spent a good deal of time in that state…

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Did it fit? I conveyed the interaction to Smegma and Dave, silencing the two, who had both begun taking turns poking fun at my ‘life’ choices.

I amended an earlier thought that had only included one of them. Who needed enemies with friends like them?

“That would certainly be an odd requirement?” Smegma stated and questioned simultaneously making it clear he wasn’t convinced by my discovery.

“It’s somewhere to start,” Dave said. “Put this all in an email to Ms. Stovall. Let her and her team sort through it for now. Even if you don’t find the Skill Identifier guy, you’ve already showed that the attack was premeditated. That should drastically strengthen your self-defense case, right?”

I shook my head almost instantly. Already seeing how Morgan’s presence would be explained away. “They’re claiming he was a Private Eye investigating the murders. So, they could just say he was aware of this information, right?”

“Sure, but there’s a huge hole in that excuse. You’ve been to a single one of these photoshoots. So, why would he suspect you?” Dave countered and I felt my eyebrows rise in appreciation. I nodded and opened up an email to Ms. Stovall.

An hour later, I’d put everything I could think of into the email, and the three of us sat in silence—thinking over the bombshell of a discovery we’d just made. Dave of course couldn’t let the moment of appreciation last. “We should be husking detectives!”

“Yeah, sure, the Police need you two like I need a body,” Smegma said derisively even as he started laughing. Me and Dave exchanged a look, and smirked.

“Why so you can touch yourself?” Dave began.

“Oh, that makes sense,” I added. “I’ve always told you a good wank will make you less grumpy—”

Smegma growled, which cut me off—and simultaneously caused me and Dave to erupt in laughter. I might have felt bad for the Demon if he wasn’t always doing shit like this to me. A moment after even he joined in with our laughter.

“Okay, can we get back to sub-skills, now?” Smegma said a bit too quickly. Clearly wanting to change the subject. I nodded and opened back up my Accel Spreadsheet.

“I think we were on Classes—before we discovered my new skill—oh shit!” I picked the stack of cards up from my desk and flipped to Mining.

Mining (Evolvable)

(11)

Low-E-Rank

As you mine you slowly improve your understanding of minerals, ores, and crystals. As this Skill grows this individual will notice improvements to all actions related to Mining. This Skill is multiplied by the Strength stat.

Two parts of the card stood out to me and I pointed at the bottom where the line, ‘Current max level reached until Evolution Condition is reached.’ Was missing. Then at the rank. “You were right Smegma it leveled up."

“I know I was right, I’m a genius!”

“At touching yourself at night,” Dave chimed in, which caused me to snort while trying to remain serious. Smegma transferring a menacing black eyed stare on my friend broke me and I started laughing again.

“Oh, you’ll both pay for this,” Smegma whispered. But again quickly shifted the topic. “So, Classes?!”

“Right, right,” I responded mirthfully.

“I think you have to take it,” Dave stated, surprising both me and Smegma.

“What? Why?” I answered, instantly sobered by the level of confidence in my friends tone. I knew Dave was smart, so surely he had a reason for saying that.

“If the system is going to give you a class, and you have a skill called Dragon’s Heart, and Demonic Vault—isn’t it likely that you’ll get a husking epic class?”

“Not how it works,” Smegma interjected quickly. “He also has Mining, Mental Fortitude and Recovery Skills—” Either my wince or my mental scream warned Smegma because he cut off.

Dave was staring at the cards in front of me. I realized I hadn’t told him the names of my other inherited skills. I handed him the cards and he pursed his lips as he accepted. I could feel the waves of suppressed jealousy from him as he flipped through. It was one thing knowing I had multiple skills and another to see them—on literal display.

After he finished, he neatly stacked the cards but refused to look up. A strange click sounded, and it took me a few words into what he said to realize he’d clicked his teeth. “I still think you have to take Classes. Mining is low level when you compare it to the top four. One C-rank, Two B-ranks and an A-rank, would have to have more input on what the system grants—surely.”

He still hadn’t looked up from the cards, in his white knuckled hands. I realized he was fighting off his internal jealously fiercely. I also realized that the silence wasn’t likely to be helping so I hurried to answer. “I’m not the expert on the system but that logic makes sense.”

“He’s right, but only if the system is taking the skills into consideration with the class choice. It could be using your actions to select it. And what do you think you’ll be doing for the next weeks, months and years?”

“Mining,” I said but Smegma’s comment seemed to have also roused Dave.

“Sure, but with your logic is circular. Should he wait until he is a Hunter to take Classes?” Smegma shrugged while showing his three fingered palms, the gesture saying, ‘of course’ to me. “That’s why it’s so circular. How long will it take him to buy one of your skills if he doesn’t take a good sub-skill to help him? I would argue that becoming a Miner Class would still get him to his goal of a Hunter faster…”

“He’s not wrong,” Smegma said, turning to me. “We’re also not the one making the final decision.”

I let my mouth fall open and my eyes widen as I pointed at the Demon. “Did you just admit you might be wrong?”

“Oh, get Husked! I swear I will turn invisible again and make you repeat everything I husking say!”

That got a laugh out of Dave and then shortly after myself. This time I brought us back to task. “Let’s go over Crafter and Titles.”

“If you take Crafter, I think it will be better to take Merchant,” Dave said as he pointed to the description on the screen.

“Grants the skill Crafting. Crafting will allow the user to make items from all Crafting Skills. However, it will only grant knowledge based on Stats that are associated with said skill, no matter the level of Crafting.” I read aloud. Then added my two cents, “Not to mention I only have Strength unlocked. So, if I’m reading this right I might gain a High-F-Rank Blacksmith skill—if that’s based on Strength…”

“Still, it isn’t like you can’t grow your stats,” Smegma countered, while looking uninterested. I could tell he was playing Devil’s Advocate and didn’t really want me to take the skill. It had only made the list because of the Merchant sub-skill after all.

“Moving on,” I said pointedly and saw Smegma smirk. “Titles…”

“This is instantly the most promising and the riskiest sub-skill,” Smegma said, but sounded excited. “I think it will pair with Classes well, like Merchant and Crafter. However, none of us have ever heard of a system title before. And that’s saying something in my case.”

Dave and I looked at each other pointedly again, both probably thinking the same thing. ‘Did the system award something from touching yourself?’ Smegma gave us both the middle finger, having read my thoughts, but he continued, “So Titles might be extremely difficult to acquire which would likely make them more powerful as well…”

“What if you just take one sub-skill for now?” Dave suggested.

“You just said that I need to take Classes to become a Hunter faster. Surely taking two sub-skills is the same premise?” I responded.

“I’m not saying not to take two—I’m just saying take one—see how it functions and then reassess. Smegma’s right. Titles has the potential to pair with what we assume Classes will do, but who’s to husking say?”

I pointed to my friend in acknowledgement of the thought, and then looked to Smegma who nodded introspectively. That was good enough for me. “So, Classes then?”

“Classes,” Dave and Smegma said in unison.