“Okay,” Imaya spoke once I finished eating. I got up to have a drink from the river, and she followed me. “I’ve been thinking, and I almost certainly got your measure now. You’re supposed to be our party’s scoundrel. A rogue-type of character, possibly a thief or an assassin.”
“Charming prospects,” I said, stopping at the riverbank. It was a bit muddy, and I was unsure how to go about drinking from the river without getting myself completely soaked. Perhaps I could shape Soul Eater into a ladle or a really big spoon?
“It fits your brooding personality,” Imaya added. “I saw no indication that we can choose our own class, so it must be predetermined what we receive. It may not be a fair system, I know, but this way our group will be diverse, which is the foundation of a well-formed party.”
I sighed, looking away from my flattened and misshapen attempt at a spoon to meet Imaya’s eyes—and for a brief moment, I forgot what I was going to say. Those dark brown orbs were brimming with so much enthusiasm and excitement that I almost changed my mind. What was it that lent her so much zest? Had she forgotten almost dying from the gnomes? She cocked her head in question while I was staring, and I cleared my throat awkwardly.
“First off,” I said, holding up a finger, “I’m not brooding. I may look bored at times—”
“Sleepy, more like.”
“—but that’s just because I have too many brilliant thoughts in my head. I’m so full of ingenious ideas that my body can barely keep up! You couldn’t even begin to understand what a burden this is.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Imaya said, frowning. “Wait, did you just indirectly call me stupid?”
“Secondly,” I forged on, “I do believe that you’re forgetting something. You speak as if this world was just a game, when in fact, it is not. Collars and game-interfaces are one thing, but they won’t force me to play along.”
My first goal would be to learn more about this world, of course. Later on I would be able to weigh my options, and see whether it was possible for me to get back home or … well, to start a new life here. It was an uncomfortable thought, one that I didn’t want to dwell on right now. I also had this whole cursed weapon thing going on, which was equally worrying. All things considered, I had no intention to play this weird real-life role playing game on top of everything else.
“Umm … you’re kinda wrong about that,” Imaya said. “Have you seen the counter at the bottom right corner of your screen?”
“I don’t think I have,” I admitted reluctantly. Opening my collar’s interface, I saw 99 days written just above the bottom bars on the right. A tap on the small text prompted a popup to appear.
> Inactivity counter: 99 days left
> Receive a Disability if the timer reaches zero. Complete any Quest to reset the timer.
“Well, that’s not good,” I said. My laundry list just kept getting longer and longer. “Alright, so maybe I can be forced to do Quests from time to time … but I can’t be forced to take on any of these roles you speak of. Right? Please tell me that I’m right. I admit that I haven’t investigated my collar thoroughly, but I don’t remember reading about classes or whatever.”
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“You’re … kinda right?” Imaya said. “Technically there are no classes, as far as I know … but it’s easy to categorize us by our skillset. We have only just started, but it’s already obvious that Pell with his Protective Shell would be better off as a tank, while Simon could use his Pyrokinesis to be a damage dealer. And though they can’t heal as of yet, perhaps Tamara and Devi’lynn would become support Players, providing crowd control and distraction. As for me—”
“So they can’t force me to take one specific role?” I interrupted Imaya’s monologue.
“Strictly speaking no, but—”
“Good,” I said. “Those aliens might be immoral bastards, but at least they don’t keep their slaves on a tight leash.”
“Hey! Don’t talk like that,” Imaya said. “They might be watching us.”
“Creepy stalkers,” I agreed. “Do you think they watch us even when we’re on the toilet?”
“I—uh, there are no toilets here.”
“That just makes them even worse,” I grumbled. “Damn perverts.”
Imaya looked baffled at first, but it wasn’t long before she burst out in laughter.
“I don’t think they’re interested in your bare ass,” she snickered, and I couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. But even as I laughed and joked about it, I was all too aware that Imaya had been saying the truth; the three-eyed woman was called an Inspector, and I had little doubt about what she was inspecting. I didn’t know how much influence she had over what happened to us, but a hill surrounded by hundreds of little gnomes was probably not a natural occurrence. Insulting the Inspector openly wasn’t very wise, not when she held our fates in her hand.
“I’m glad you’re unhurt,” Imaya filled the silence after the laughter had died down. “For a moment back then, I … I mean, it seemed like you wouldn’t make it. And … I didn’t even try to help you.”
I hummed noncommittally, unsure how to react to her sudden change of tone.
“I know I’ve been a burden,” Imaya said. “For all my talk, when I faced those monsters, I—I dunno. I panicked, I guess, and made some mistakes. If you hadn’t been there when I fell to the ground, I—yeah. It would have been bad. So, I’d like to thank you for covering my back … and apologize for not doing the same for you.”
“You’re welcome. And forgiven too, I guess.”
“It won’t happen again,” she said. “I’ll get stronger, I promise.”
“Sure,” I replied. “If that’s what you want, I won’t be stopping you.”
“Huh? You sound like you don’t agree.”
“I’m just wondering what getting stronger means to you. I have a feeling that you are talking about classes and levels once again.”
“In part yes, but also, you know … mentally.”
“That’s not getting stronger, but getting used to the horrors of this world,” I said. “There’s an important difference between the two, I believe. As for the levels, well … whatever this world is, I don’t think it’s a game where we need to hit the maximum level, collect the best loot, and clear all of its dungeons.”
“Yeah, but—”
“We don’t have to become stronger, Imaya. It’s enough if we just stay alive.”
There was a beat of silence, during which Imaya opened and closed her mouth as if unsure how to respond.
“Higher level means higher level opponents, huh?” she murmured. It wasn’t the conclusion that I had been hinting at, but that was alright. I wasn’t here to change the way she thought.
While Imaya stared pensively off to the distance, I took the opportunity to walk a bit further down the riverbank. I had lots of things to consider too. The future was uncertain, and there were so many things that depended on how I adapted to this new environment. I wasn’t exactly a man of many plans, but even so I felt the necessity to stop and think things properly through.
First, however … first I needed to figure out how to make a spoon out of Soul Eater.