image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/312584d9-6dd4-49b5-8f77-eb031c5fad0c/0_2.png]

The bus driver said something about taking a slight detour to avoid the rush hour, but the speakers were dull and old, and half of the message was lost in transition. Vincent tried to return to sleep.

"How much longer?" the passenger next to him asked. A girl with a hoodie on, all he could see from her in the dark was a pair of large glasses reflecting the meager light of the bus's safety lamps.

"No long," the driver replied. "Waze say hour half— Fuck!" The man pushed the brake pedal to the floor while a bright light wall enveloped them. The engine's noise pitch and level turned down, and everything moved in slow motion. The girl's glasses flew in the air, her eyes and mouth widening to scream. Vincent's hand instinctively moved to catch the spectacles.

More screams, thuds—bodies hitting the chair in front of them—yells, and the ruckus reached a deafening level, things returning to normal. There was broad daylight out of nowhere, and the vehicle had stopped in a meadow. The driver opened the door. Vincent was inspired to yell: "Don't rush!" a second before the stampede could form.

Five minutes later, the group Vincent guided on a tour of Central Europe was outside, looking at the landscape with befuddlement. It was not Kansas nor Earth, something made clear by the ring of asteroids floating in the middle of the sky, lightened by the bigger sun. And there were many moons, three larger than Earth's and a few others smaller or more distant. The air was hot, smelling of summer flowers.

"Alien abduction?" a young man asked, putting a pair of sunglasses on. That reminded Vincent of the spectacles he held in hand, and he offered them back to the girl, who gasped and grasped them with joy.

"Isekai, for sure," she said, putting her glasses back on, blinking a few times to readjust her sight.

"C'mon, Irene, that's fantasy!" the youngster laughed.

To contradict him, a shiny figure appeared in their midst. Half as tall as them, the beautiful woman smiled and spoke directly in their heads.

[Kiara (Archetype of Light and Fortune)]: I bid you welcome, Adventurers. It seems a spontaneous portal brought you to Stellianor. This unintentional occurrence might be frightening, but rest assured, our Realm is welcoming. We will speak again after you reach safety.

Spreading her hands in a hugging gesture, the woman dissolved into specks of light, which rushed around, entering their bodies before they could react.

"What the fuck?" Vincent exclaimed under a jolt of pain in his head.

Welcome to the System, Vincent Valaška.

You have been granted the Common Tongue Knowledge and a basic information package.

Your Level is 1. Advance to level 10 to unlock a class. You will gain one token per level, which can be spent to buy skills or raise your attribute points.

Current stats: Body 18 / Mind 12 / Spirit 18

Group Quest: Forests are beautiful, yet dangerous. Reach the nearby village before you attract the beasts' attention. Gain increased XP if all of you reach the village. Group size: 60/60

"Beasts?" the young woman with the glasses blurted, her voice showing the same shivering as her body.

"Shit… I'll need my bow," a muscular dark-haired man said, rushing back in the bus.

"I have a gun," a woman said, following him.

"Stay with the group," Vincent yelled toward a pair of girls in their late teens, aiming for the tree line.

"We need to pee," one of them complained.

"Go with them," Vincent ordered the woman from before, now back with a double-barrel hunting gun. "Don't be long, don't go far. You," he turned toward the stocky man, who had returned with a compound bow and a quiver, "keep your eyes peeled. Everyone else, lend me your ears!" he yelled. "I'm an ex-military, trained in survival, mountaineering, all the shit. I'll assume command for now, OK?" Vincent looked around, but no one contested his words. "Does anyone have medical training?"

"I'm a doctor," a man raised his hand.

"Take the bus's first aid kit, patch them," Vincent gestured. Some people had lacerations and scratches on their faces or sprained members, limping or grimacing. No fractures, or they would have screamed. Returning to the bus with the doctor, he picked up his backpack and extracted a pen and the passengers' manifesto. "What's your name?"

"Ayman Noli," the man yelled, not because he was upset about being asked; he was half out of the bus on the farther end.

"Twenty-six, Albania?" Vincent mumbled and frowned, checking the name on the list. It was the first time the age and country of the passengers were mentioned in a manifesto.

The pen started to shake in his hand. It was an abduction… The emphasis the apparition had put on 'unintentional' had spoken volumes… This was nothing like a happenstance…

"Never mind…" Vincent mumbled. "There are more pressing matters." Still shivering, he checked the secret compartment in his backpack. The revolver was there, in its holster. He squeezed his eyes shut, chasing away bad memories, then exited the bus, massaging the nape of his head.

"Told you, Isekai," Irene shouted at the sunglasses man.

"That still counts as an alien abduction," the man yelled back.

The dialogue looked like a spitting contest, with both screaming inches away from each other's faces.

Stolen novel; please report.

Why the hell Im thinking in inches? Vincent thought.

FAQ: Why do strange units of measurement appear in my brain?

The System helps you adapt to the local standards. This does not overwrite your previous knowledge.

Shit, this thing reading my mind…

FAQ: Can the System read my mind?

Answer: No, unless you focus your thoughts with intent and ask a question that is answerable by the information installed in your brain.

Meanwhile, the commotion had increased.

"Hey!" Vincent yelled. "Calm down. We need to work together. I'll call your names. When you hear yours, raise your hands and tell me your competencies. Irene Altenschloss."

"Here!" the glasses-wearing girl shouted

"What can you do?"

She pulled back her hoodie; to Vincent's surprise, she was a cutie. Petite, brunette, curly medium-long hair, button nose, almost like an anime character. The glasses conferred a sliver of nerdiness. Which was confirmed by her words.

"I study social sciences and geopolitics," she said sheepishly, grinning and fidgeting. "And it's a serious subject," she added immediately.

Twenty-two… Austria, Vincent read to himself the text next to her name. "Bom Jong Yeok," he continued aloud. Twenty, South Korea.

"It's Pom," the young man with the bow said, keeping his attention to the surroundings. "They mess my name every other day. Call me Jong."

"Yeah… tell me about it," Vincent sighed. "What's your job, Jong?"

"C'mon, man, really? I'm an archer!" the man snorted. "Olympic and world champion. I think I have a concussion… I saw a hologram of a woman speaking nonsense and a blue text."

"We all saw them," Vincent said curtly.

One by one, he read all the names. The order of seniority started with the driver, who was forty, going down to the woman with the shotgun, who was thirty-five, then himself, at twenty-eight. The rest were under twenty-five. The youngest were the two girls who had gone to the forest for the number one: nineteen and ballet dancers. In the next few minutes, Vincent discovered the group was made of prodigies. There was a painter, a molecular engineer, a nuclear one, a quantum physicist, a robotics and machine learning wunderkind, and so on. What nagged Vincent was that the blue text had said they were supposed to be sixty, yet only forty-eight people were present.

"A bus of brainiacs, huh?" the driver commented, his eyes shifting around. "Look, if there are monsters here, we're sitting ducks. Let's go to that village."

"Where?" Vincent made a large, sweeping gesture. The meadow was surrounded by forest on all sides. "We have to explore first."

"I have a drone, it’s in the luggage," the wunderkind said. Jorge, if Vincent recalled the name well.

"Perfect. Raise it up, and let's—"

"Danger!" Jong yelled.

Like a flock of geese, all turned their heads in the direction the archer pointed at. A tiger emerged from the trees on the farthest side of the clearing. It was white, huge, and totally out of tune with the oak forest—which somehow had a European vibe in Vincent's mind.

Growling, the animal advanced, its head lowered, staring at the group. By instinct, everybody started to shout, trying to scare it. Ignoring their pathetic attempts, the beast trotted forward, a casual approach, testing if the group presented a danger or was a big snack. The safest option was to get inside the bus and wait until the threat left.

"Don't—"

'Shoot' was lost in transition. The lady with the rifle discharged both her barrels with no effect whatsoever, and Jong released an arrow that skidded against the tiger's head, leaving a deep gash. The growling transformed into a roar, and the creature charged.

Everyone ran away, fanning apart, hoping the monster would eat another of them. At the same time, Vincent ran into the bus and turned the key, praying the engine would start. It did, and he engaged the reverse and pressed the gas pedal. With a jerk, the bus jolted backward. It hit something and choked.

Vincent ran back on the couloir, unsheathing his revolver on the way. The rear of the bus was caved in, the rear windshield broken, and the tiger was thrown on the ground a few yards away, whimpering, one of the front legs twisted in an unnatural angle. The young man kicked the remaining glass out and took aim. The beast cowered, covering its head with its uninjured paw.

It knows what a gun is… "Go away," Vincent screamed, shooting once in the air.

The animal didn't wait for another invitation, limping as fast as it could back to where it came from. The man jumped through the window, landing on the grass, reading the notification on the way.

You have chased away White Roar, a level 10 Elite Tiger, and ensured your group's continued existence. Level up x2. You have 2 Tokens to invest.

You have unlocked Battle Instinct (Passive, Elite tier). You don't need to look at a target to judge its movements or the distance. At skill levels 50 and 100, you can evolve this ability to include an active effect. Your current skill level is estimated to be 10.

"Why didn't you shoot it?" Jong asked. "Irene, stop tik-toking the damn beast!"

The girl was taking photos of the retreating tiger with her phone. Vincent realized that she and the archer had hidden in the tall grass. A wise decision, as the large cat was more likely to be attracted by the running targets.

"I don't like to kill if I have another choice," he said to Jong. And it looked… intelligent, he thought. "Anyone with knives, scissors, files, anything, gather them. Find ropes and duct tape; we'll make spears," he yelled at the returning group.

"You think improvised spears would stop that kind of monster?" someone asked.

"No, but it might keep it busy until we shoot it. I need a few people to come with me to gather branches for the shafts… What the heck is that?"

He jerked back, stepping away instinctively from the bus. Muffled banging noises were coming from the luggage compartment.

"No shoot, no shoot," Dorel yelled, waving his hands. "More passengers."

"I wasn't going to shoot," Vincent hissed, the revolver at the ready but aiming down. "What passengers?"

"Immigrants… I like help people…" the driver confessed, opening the hatch. One by one, twelve more people stepped out. Shorter in stature on average, brown-skinned, and of mixed ages, from elderly to children looking malnourished and tired.

"Germany?" an older man asked.

Lowering his shoulders, Dorel shook his head in negation.

"Oh, God, how did they fit in there?" a woman from the main group exclaimed, wrinkling her nose under the whiff of bad odors emanating from the luggage compartment. "Are you OK?"

"See if they are well," Vincent ordered the doctor. "You," he pointed at Dorel, "explain to them what happened. I need three people to cut shafts for the spears."

Three volunteers stepped forward, and he led them in the opposite direction from which the tiger had come to a bunch of hazelnut saplings, one of the best woods for the task. Showing them how to cut the branches through batoning, Vincent let them work and kept guard, revolver in hand.

Half an hour later, they were back at the bus. Vincent made the spears himself. Two scissors, now broken in two, five knives, more toward the Swiss army type, and a nail file were the tips. As soon as a weapon was done, he handed it around. Meanwhile, Jorge still struggled to assemble his drone, and Irene and the man with sunglasses argued again about Isekai versus alien abduction.

"It's the Illuminati," the man yelled. That made Vincent let out a loud laugh. "You think it's funny?" Picking up the passenger manifesto, which Vincent had dropped when the monster attacked, the youngster shoved it into Vincent's hands, pointing to the logo. "See it for yourself."

"No shit!" Vincent blurted. It said: 'International League for Leadership, Unity, Mentoring Initiative, Narrative Advocacy, and Talent Integration.' The title made little sense, but the initials spelled Illuminati.

"It's a pun," Irene yelled. "It was a joke, nothing more."

"This wasn't arranged from the Earth's side," Vincent said. "Our main bus broke; this was a last-hour replacement, and I booked it myself," he sneered at Dorel, displeased the driver had come with illegal living cargo included. "And the detour was unplanned."

"There's a village a mile to the east," Jorge interjected, squashing the quarrel short. He had finally succeeded in raising the drone.

"We leave in five. Everybody grabs only the minimum," Vincent shouted.