Akemi awoke to the smell of fire.

She coughed hard, and sharp pain stabbed her chest like tiny needles. She expected to see the crumbling, ashen inn before her. She did not. Instead, she was met with a starlit night. The moon was full, and her surroundings were quiet. She heard nothing but the untrimmed grass blowing in the wind, and the hum of crickets.

Where am I?

Groaning, she tilted her head towards the source of the smell. There, kneeling with her hands dipped into a festering bonfire, was the masked woman. P. Next to her, his wrists and ankles bound in rope, was Bwog. He was sleeping in a sitting position, snoring softly.

“You’re awake,” the woman noted. She didn’t turn her head to look. “Good.”

“Fuck awake. I’m alive,” Akemi said, coughing again. Her tongue tasted like burnt toast. “How am I alive?”

“Because I saved you,” P said. “A thank you would do just fine, by the way.”

The woman pulled her hands from the fire. Her bare palms were somehow unaffected despite being utterly cooked by the blue flame. Her gloves sat next to her in a pile, shriveled.

“How are you doing that?” Akemi said. Her voice was drowsy and drunk—and she felt it. There was nothing quite like being ripped off the edge of death. “Putting your hands in the… the…”

“I’m fireproof,” she said, like it was nothing of significance. “What’s your health at?”

Akemi immediately had more questions, but the woman raised a good one. She opened her health pane.

HP: 42 / 80

“Just past halfway. Forty-two points out of eighty.”

“Oh, wow. You’re weak,” the woman laughed. “That’s over half of your health points?”

Akemi scowled. She tried to move towards her, but the pain was unbearable. Instead of doing anything remotely intimidating, she miscalculated and flopped back into the dirt. The masked woman just laughed harder, throwing her head back.

“Look, smartass. Why don’t you tell me something. What’s your real name?” Akemi grumbled, spitting dirt out of her mouth. “All I can see is the letter P.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Sure it is. Aren’t we, like, coworkers? Accountant buddies? Fellow number pushers? Plus, it’s the least you could do for me. You totally robbed me of those experience cushions. I mean, heroes.”

P rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

“Silent treatment. Got it,” Akemi continued, pulling herself back into a seated position. “At least clarify one thing for me—someone told me that there are neutral accountants and villainous accountants. Obviously, both of us are of the villain variety, but is there a reason why the class isn’t called something more… appropriate? I don’t know, like Master Criminal, or something?”

“You don’t know?”

“Obviously not.”

The woman sighed, and rose to her feet.

“I’m not helping strays,” she said. “I did you more than enough of a favor by saving your life, and I only did it because Nocturne would have wanted me to. You’re alive, and I found what I was looking for, end of conversation.”

She turned towards Bwog, who was giggling in his sleep.

“What could you possibly want from that little noise machine?” Akemi said, then considered it for a moment. “Are you going to use his voice as a torture device? That’s actually really creative..”

“Close. But no. He’s got something the boss wants. Simple as that.”

“Boss this, boss that. Are you really so obedient?” Akemi said, huffing exhaustedly. “I thought villains were supposed to be free-thinkers. At least that’s why I chose this path. Didn’t want to suffer an eternity of being the chewed up gum under someone else’s heel.”

A sudden heat emanated from the other woman, her blue eyes turning faintly red. But as quickly as the change came, it vanished, blown away by the wind. She just scoffed, and turned away.

“Goodbye, Akemi,” she said, lifting the goblin bard into her arms and strolling off into the wilderness. “Try not to choke on that dirt in your mouth.”

Akemi opened her mouth to bite back, but the woman was already long gone.

—

“God, my feet hurt,” Akemi muttered to herself as she limped through the forest, following instinct back towards Agnor’s Rest. She had considered heading straight for Grimguard by Bwog’s suggestion, but she lacked the horse, the map, or the footwear to get there, leaving her with few options.

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She settled on a simple in-and-out plan. She donned some of the adventuring gear she stole from the heroes’ bags back at the inn, exchanging her cowboy outfit for chainmail, and slotted on a pair of too-large boots. She also reluctantly abandoned her headscarf. She would instead hold a handkerchief to her mouth as she made her way to the cobbler, pretending to be sick. That way, the merchants wouldn’t recognize her from her face, and the inn-goers wouldn’t recognize her from her mask. Finally, she stuffed her hair under a bonnet.

The disguise was utterly ridiculous—but it was a disguise.

Fifteen minutes of trudging through the forest, and she was back in town. While the billowing smoke had died down, the air was still ripe with smog, the ground littered with black debris: the whole place was one big ashtray. There were also considerably more guards than last time. They were manning every inch of the border, swords aggressively pointed forward.

Damn it. Akemi groaned into her handkerchief. I probably should have expected this.

She treaded the circumference of the village looking for a less populated opening, but it was of no use. The place was absolutely hopping with guards. New guards. These guards were wearing a different type of clothing than the ones she’d seen here before—bright yellow gambesons tucked under leather belts, hardy pants and steel helmets. They looked way more professional than the brutes in chainmail. Those guys had been more concerned about their packed lunches than keeping out outsiders.

“Young lady,” she was greeted as soon as she was within ten feet of the gates. “What’s your business here? Town’s closed to outsiders. You really shouldn’t be on the roads, either. Plenty of villains lurking about, hiding in the shadows.”

“I live here,” she lied. Lying had really become her MO in the last few days. Which was frustrating, for one, because she had really been hoping that killing would be her new MO, but also because she was just really, terribly bad at it. But it was simply something she’d have to live with, at least for now. After all, the lower your level, the more difficult it was to stab your way out of situations. “I was out of town during the fire, and I really need to get back inside. My little brother’s waiting for me.”

The guard studied her, his eyes peering out from his bucket-shaped helmet. Akemi noticed the glaring white ‘A’ that was written on his neck. It was a tattoo, or maybe… a brand? The discoloration pointed towards the latter.

Maybe it's for... Agnor?

She watched her peripheral as the System’s dice rolled.

Persuasion Check (Medium)

Success!

Mercy me. The universe doesn’t hate me for once.

“Is that so,” he said, looking her up and down. “Fine. But you should know that Agnor’s back in town, so you best get your affairs in order. No further hijinks will be tolerated around here. No more goddamn inn fires, no more unlicensed eggplant traders, no more sellin’ pork when it’s really just dressed up horse meat. Anything screwy, and it’ll land you in the slammer.”

Akemi nodded slowly. “Sure thing,” she muttered, and the gates yawned open for her.

She took only two steps in before the grim spectacle greeted her. The damage to the Roadhouse had been much worse than she imagined; the building was nothing more than a skeleton now, a brittle batch of protruding wooden bones. Agatha was nowhere to be seen, but her loyal staff were busy flying their brooms around the place, magically floating pieces of wood into sacks. Every manner of levitating construction tool was skittering around the site.

Seeing the destruction, Akemi felt a kick of jealousy. P had done all that with a single spell. The amount of experience she probably got… The achievements. It made her salivate. That should have been me. Her Orb could probably accomplish the same effect if she were to stand there and swing it around, but that would require her to keep her feet planted, making herself vulnerable. It was a hard spell to control while moving.

If only I could get the insect orb to be a bit bigger, and have some other status effects attached to it, like fire… Now that she thought of it, she had no idea how to actually level the spell up. She didn’t see the option in any of her available skill trees. It seemed to be a gift from that space cow—ugh, Avatar—so maybe that had something to do with it. It existed outside the conventional workings of the System.

It was a nice compensation package for having her world exploded, but it wasn't much until she knew how to use it.

I’ll have to look for a class scholar in Grimguard. Maybe they’ll know the answer.

Turning her attention to the present, she took in the remainder of her surroundings. The farmers’ market was gone, but many of the traders remained. Specifically, Akemi noted the presence of the two cowboys. Her fight or flight triggered, and she made sure the handkerchief was pressed over her nose. Thankfully, they were distracted—too busy hounding the yellow-clothed guards.

“Our friend is dead, and you’re out here giving us tickets?” one yelled. “I thought Agnor was supposed to be a hero. Not some scumbag taxlord.”

Akemi began to sweat. They must have found Mickey.

There went her hopes of reclaiming old Grass-Eater the horse.

“For the last time, we’ve opened an investigation on the corpse,” the guard grumbled back. “The guards at the stablehouse have been given the assailant’s description—black hair, green eyes, cowboy hat and vest. Slippers. She’ll be hard to miss.”

She let out a shuddering breath. As much as she was sad to have taken off her cowboy hat and its accompanying Charisma bonus, she would have most definitely been clocked at the gates if she was still wearing it. The ill-fitting chainmail she was wearing now was a chore, but it was her single best defense against getting noticed.

Careful to keep away from the cowboys, she began to walk towards the cobbler’s house.

These shoes better be worth risking my life over.

“What the hell? My [Detect Villainy] skill… It’s pinging.”

Alarmed, Akemi looked to the side. Just a few yards away, by the inn, a guard began craning his neck rapidly. She immediately recognized the expression on his face. The way his pupils went in and out of focus. It was a Hero Squire. He was using his System to check the names and professions of everyone nearby—scanning for villains. His comrades began to do the same, spreading out and murmuring amongst themselves.

Sensing the brewing alarm, she began to move faster. She could see the cobbler’s little cottage in sight, but it was still a good walk away, and there were guards standing outside of it.

“Everyone, stay where you are!” one of the guards suddenly shouted. His hand flew upwards, and a spark of flame shot out of it, booming like a firework in the middle of the plaza. “There is a villain in this immediate area, and no one is moving a muscle until they’ve been located.”

Ugh.

Maybe she was going to get to stab someone after all.