Already day 17, huh?

It was amazing how capable humans were at adapting. Devon imagined that if his past self before the tutorial could see him and what he was doing now he doubted he would have recognized himself, and not just because he was currently under the guise of The Mask.

At the moment he took the form of Noah, a rather nondescript man if it wasn't for how buff he was. At first he’d thought it would be annoying to limit how many identities he had due to the limited number of people within the tutorial, but he had quickly realized how flawed that thinking was.

Now that a lot of the trailblazers that led the level curve had pulled ahead of him, he was much more free to go around stealing the identities of other people. Terance had been a risk because of the level disparity between him and Devon, but Devon was confident that so long as he took the identities of people that were either the same level or one to two above him there wouldn’t be an issue.

He absolutely couldn’t assume the identities of people lower level than him because it would be far too easy for a keen-eyed investigator to figure out what was really happening. For instance, if somebody examined him pretending to be somebody else at level 33 and then later examined the one who he was imitating and found them to be level 32 or 31, they'd know something was wrong. That had been the biggest risk with Terance.

On the other hand, it was more acceptable to assume somebody’s identity a level above him because it was becoming second nature to assume that people were constantly in the process of leveling up here, and thus a level disparity of one or two wouldn’t matter that much.

Noah, the man he was currently impersonating, was a member of a somewhat notorious gang in Arkania. The forest settlement had several smaller factions that had formed out of similar interests or fighting styles that all bowed the knee to Nix’s authority.

Most of these pseudo-gangs didn’t have proper names to them, so he simply remembered them as Noah’s gang. Noah wasn’t actually the leader of the group, but he was one of their heavy hitters, so he could act as something of a spokesperson.

Devon sauntered through Plainstown, hiccupping occasionally and generally acting like a stereotypical drunk. He bumped into people, then gave them a disdainful scowl when they tried to admonish him.

One of these encounters left the other person sprawled out on the dusty path. They got up and started yelling at Devon angrily, and Devon pretended like it had been their fault entirely.

“Hey! What’s going on here?” A voice rang out, stopping both Devon and the random person he was scuffling with.

Vanir?

The youth seemed to be doing a patrol of the settlement and had stumbled upon the two just as they were about to brawl. Devon had been about to beat the random person to a pulp, but he suddenly had a different idea that seemed even better.

“This asshole tried to push me out of the way,” Devon proclaimed, a slight slur to his speech.

“The fuck are you talking about-“

“Okay, okay. Let’s just cool our jets,” Vanir said, stepping between them and pushing them apart. The second Vanir’s hand touched Devon’s chest he violently shoved the youth away.

Vanir actually apologized to the other person when he bumped into them, placating them enough to be willing to pass off the problem to the youth. Devon saw the scene and scoffed before chuckling a bit.

“Something funny?” Vanir asked.

“Oh yeah. You, this entire place you lot have got set up here. It’s funny, it really is.”

“And how’s that?”

“It’s funny because it’s a gathering place for pussies.”

Vanir’s face grew dark as a crowd started to gather around them.

Truly, this is the best time to act. The dark mood from yesterday still hangs over this place like a deluge that refuses to let up.

Ordinarily, people who were calm and level headed could see through somebody purposefully antagonizing them. It would have been easy for people to normally dismiss Devon’s actions as those of a simple bully who’d gotten a bit too drunk.

But people already in a foul mood were easy to stir up, to turn that anger into yet more anger with but a few words. And Devon was going to go beyond just a few words.

"What'd you just say?" Vanir asked. His expression was deadpan, but Devon could see by his tensing muscles the youth was about at his snapping point.

"You need your ears cleaned or something? I said this camp is full of-"

"Vanir, stop this at once!" The voice of an elderly woman broke over the crowd.

Vanir winced and looked toward Susan, who had made her way to the front of the crowd and was looking at Vanir. "Back off, granny," Vanir said back, "I didn't start this, but if this asshole is looking for a fight then I'm gonna give him one."

"You'll do no such thing!" Susan marched forward and grabbed hold of Vanir's arm.

"Heh," Devon muttered as he shifted his weight and kicked some of the mud along the path toward Susan.

Vanir shook Susan's arm off and stepped forward, blocking the mud in midair before it could make contact with Susan. "You bastard, attacking the elderly?"

"Pah, I'm amazed you people are still holding onto such relics from the past. What's the point? In this new world they can't contribute anything with their broken down bodies, so all they are is dead weight."

"You…!"

"Oh, actually wait, that might not be true," Devon said as he rubbed his chin, "I suppose you could use them for monster bait. Then they wouldn't be quite so useless anymore!"

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Vanir didn't even bother replying before rushing forward, a dagger drawn from who knows where. Like when they'd fought before, the kid was almost blindingly fast. But Devon could sense that even through his rage, Vanir didn't have any intention of seriously hurting him.

Still not enough. Come on now, you'll need a bit more hatred than that.

Devon simply raised an arm in defense as Vanir dashed past him, leaving a cut on his arm. He scoffed at the shallow cut, "What, are you trying to prove me right? A paper cut like this isn't exactly anything special anymore, kid."

"Vanir! Stop this-" Devon reached out with his cut arm and grabbed the old woman's hair as she tried to run past him. She cried out as Devon's grip threatened to tear her hair from her scalp.

"Move it, monster bait. You're in the way," Devon said before tossing the old lady into a pile of mud on the side of the path.

Devon did feel bad about how he was treating the elderly woman, of course. But she was the most effective catalyst in this scenario, so he didn't hesitate to make use of her. The pain and injury of others weren't things that mattered much to him anymore, not in a world where any and all injuries could be healed in a matter of minutes by a simple pill.

Vanir was on him almost before he had any chance to react. It was all Devon could do to throw out his hand to block the incoming stab.

Vanir's knife plunged into Devon's hand and he growled, "You fucking asshole, I'll make you pay!"

He's faster than before. Still, he's nowhere near as fast as Ray was, so it won't be an issue.

Devon gripped his hand down on Vanir's over the knife and pulled him in before slamming his fist into the youth's stomach. The boy was sent flying backwards, and Dev winced as the knife was ripped out of his hand.

It only took a moment for the youth to be on him again, but now he was much more ferocious. He attacked from every direction, forcing Devon to dodge the flashing knife as it came within centimeters of cutting him open.

On one of the attacks Devon saw Vanir's eyes open wide, and Devon's instincts told him the youth was activating some kind of skill.

Vanir dashed in close before Devon could react and plunged the knife into his gut. Devon felt several other gashes appear simultaneously in his abdomen. He grunted as he tasted iron in his mouth.

The youth looked up at him, "Well? have you had enough yet?" He twisted the knife and Devon gasped out in pain, "Or do I need to make-" Venir's words were interrupted by Devon grabbing his head with the hand that the dagger had pierced through.

"Kh!" Vanir cried out as Devon's blood splashed into his eyes, blinding him. When the youth stumbled back, trying desperately to wipe the blood from his eyes Devon readied a punch.

Activate skill; Bone Breaker.

Devon's unwounded fist slammed into Vanir's solar plexus, and Devon couldn't help but wince when he felt several of the youth's ribs give way under the blow. Vanir was launched backwards, and Devon saw the spurt of blood he puked up as he crashed into a merchant's stand along the path.

"Hah! As I expected, you lot can still only barely tie your shoelaces together. Come back when you aren't quite so pathetic, boy." Devon stood unflinching as he gave the message, ignoring the pain from his heavily bleeding abdomen.

He'd learned from Trey that higher vitality and endurance stats somehow gave the body more blood, so the blood loss from the stab wounds in his abdomen wasn't nearly as much of an issue anymore. One of the crowd members was force feeding Vanir a healing item as well, which meant Devon didn't need to worry about the youth, despite the fact that his punch had likely damaged several internal organs.

Devon looked through the crowd and was pleased with what he saw. Hatred coursed through the faces of every member of the mob that had gathered to watch. That anger wasn't just directed at Devon, he knew there would also be the subconscious desire to strike back at the group he belonged to. But his role for today was done.

"I think you've done more than enough, don't you?" A strong voice rang through the crowd, drawing the attention of everyone. Trey stood there, fully equipped and looking like he'd just returned from a hunt. His blood-spattered figure only amplified the dangerous look in his eye.

"Tsk!" Devon spat to the side, "The big shot of the wimps, huh? Fine then, I'll leave. This place stinks of cowardice anyway."

As Devon stalked past Trey towards the terminal he sent a message to the man.

[Devon]

All right, your turn now.

[Trey]

Yeah, leave it to me.

Step two in the scheme to rile up the residents of Plainstown was extremely simple. Devon would come in and cause a commotion, then Trey would swoop in after the people's anger had been roused.

Not only would this help promote Trey's status as a leader, but it put him in the perfect position to comment on how awful the people of Arkania were.

I plant the seed, then Trey gives it a little positive reinforcement.

The encounter had been good for gaining insights too. Devon found the skill Vanir had used extremely interesting. When he examined his stomach back in his mountain hideout he found two identical stab wounds beside the initial Vanir had created when he'd plunged his knife into Devon's stomach, although they were only about half as deep as the initial cut.

He reasoned it was most likely that the skill duplicated any successful attack Vanir made, with the clone attacks being slightly less powerful.

What is it with dexterous types and using attacks with guaranteed hit effects?

Both Ray and Vanir's skills applied an effect that seemed unavoidable, but neither was extremely powerful. Sure, in that situation Vanir had essentially stabbed him three times in a single motion, but Devon felt confident that the skill probably had a weakness.

Once his stomach was healed and an hour had passed he teleported over to Arkania. He went over to the tent he'd stashed the body of Noah, the one he'd been disguised as. It would be a problem if the person he was under the guise of was able to give a solid alibi after the fact, so he'd enlisted the reluctant help of Phil.

The old man had learned quite a lot during his time in the spirit dungeon, and he was able to make an extremely wide array of concoctions besides just drinks. Apparently Irin had called it training in preparation for the true test.

He smiled when he saw the still sleeping form of Noah on the cot he'd set up beforehand. This spot had been unoccupied just the day before, which meant there was no reason that anybody besides maybe thieves should have checked on it in the time he'd been gone. If he'd left Noah in his own tent he may have been found by his fellow gang members, thus giving him an alibi.

If any of the people Devon disguised himself as could prove they had a solid alibi for the time that Devon spent masquerading as them it might tip off anyone sharp enough to notice the inconsistency that somebody was stirring up trouble. Then the brewing discord between the factions would be turned toward him, the mastermind, and his entire plan would fall apart.

Now then…

Since there wasn't a problem with Noah, he moved on to his next course of action. He repeated the process he'd taken with Noah with somebody in Plainstown before disguising himself as that resident and stirring up trouble in Arkania.

The Arkanian side of the operation was considerably more dangerous than the Plainstown side. For one, there was no Trey to back him up here. He also had to be mindful that these people were far more likely to lash out with less of a trigger, so he had to be mindful of how hard he pushed here.

After a successful incident he backed off, but he found it quite weird that neither Zane or Nix decided to intervene at any point. After he conferred with Phil later that night he learned that Nix apparently hadn't been seen for several hours, and Zane spent most of his time hunting by himself in seclusion.

Still, it didn't matter much in the end. The day had been highly fruitful.

[The Second Step] - Cleared

Karmic Influence: Minimal.

Complexity: Normal

Time investment: ~1 Day

Reward: All stats +10.