All this time, I thought Lis was a nice, friendly guy, but I discovered his mean streak the next day. When I got up, a pile of over thirty books was on the table. Lis pointed at it, patted me on the shoulder with a smug grin, and said, “Enjoy.”
I scowled and crossed my arms. “It’s not fair! All the books I’ve given you are in English, but each of these is in a different language.”
Lis shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You are looking at it wrong. What you see in front of you is knowledge of magic from thirty two different worlds. You should be happy it is in different languages.”
His feeble attempt at justification didn’t fool me; I knew it was revenge. But I wasn’t one to back down. Oh no, I had a plan. A plan involving many, many more books...
I took some money from him and bought Rue a collar and a leash. Rue was okay with the collar but unimpressed with the leash. Every time I clipped it on, he unclipped it.
Who said it was a good idea to give a familiar telekinesis?
Eventually, I gave up and told him, “Have it your way.” After setting out a bowl for him to do his business, I went to look for a pawnshop. I didn’t know if it was the Earth effect or if my Luck stopped working, but it wasn’t my day.
In Baden-Baden, I found a few pawnshops where I sold some jewelry and purchased two burner phones and two computers. Back at the hotel, I set up the devices and began teaching Lis how to use the computer and look things up on the Internet. At first, the computer and especially the concept of the internet intimidated him, and he kept asking me if he was doing it right. But the smile didn’t leave his face once he got the hang of it. Like a kid in a candy store, he kept clicking on links and browsing websites with almost naïve curiosity. Every time he found something new, he exclaimed with joy, his face glowing. It was a side of Lis I hadn’t seen before and was refreshing. It was nice to be able to teach him something in exchange for all the knowledge he gave me.
For the next two weeks, I immersed myself in a very wordy book about spell construction. Despite my efforts, I still had trouble understanding the writer’s convoluted explanations. It was as if he believed that if the book was less than 500 pages long, it wasn’t worthy of attention. The problem was that he didn’t have enough useful information to fill 500 pages. His solution was to use flowery, complicated language with lots of similes, analogies, hyperboles, redundant phrases, and metaphors that weren’t needed. It was hard to read each page because the paragraphs were too long and seemed to go in circles without actually saying anything.
It had concepts like: “A wizard crafting a spell is akin to a performer composing an enchanted tale about the beauty of the word. The notes represent the elements, while the lyrics represent the aspects. They all work in tandem with the wizard’s will to mold the word.” And this quote is a paraphrase of a paragraph 17 lines long. I counted.
Meanwhile, Lis was up to his ears in books about engineering and mathematics. I often heard him muttering to himself, and occasionally, he cursed loudly at the texts. Most of his cursing was in languages I didn’t know or understand, but I could still recognize curses when I heard them. His angry reactions constantly reminded me of how hard it was for us both to understand too complicated material.
At least after the rain stopped, Rue agreed to walk on a leash outside.
Every evening, when we were done with our studies, Lis and I would explore Baden-Baden and find lovely cafes or restaurants to share our meals. We talked about our studies over plates of schnitzel and glasses of local beer. Lis animatedly explained the complicated parts of engineering or complained about the complexity of the subjects. His complaints about advanced mathematics sounded so familiar I couldn’t help but laugh. Lis couldn’t help but roar with laughter as I shared my observations about mana and magic and went on rants about the writer. I wasn’t even trying to be funny—I meant every word. Other people in the restaurant would often look at us with interest as we laughed because we found humor in how complicated our studies were.
The employees in those places would give me startled, bewildered, or even judgmental looks when I walked in with a big metal bowl in hand, and even more so when I ordered five servings of the same dish—one for me and four for Rue. But then they would shrug, and I almost heard them think, “Crazy American.” Rue sent me feelings of discontent and grumbling that the food wasn’t mana-rich, but that didn’t stop him from eating like three dogs his size. Still, he felt the need to let me know exactly what he thought about my food choices.
Spoiled familiar.
We would walk back to the hotel after dinner, if it didn’t rain or snow, and keep chatting in the lounge, curled up in plush couches with hot cocoa. With warm drinks and comfortable surroundings, it was easier to talk about my past, and I especially enjoyed hearing Lis tell me stories about his travels. He never told me the names of the worlds and kept some information ‘general’ so as not to spoil my enjoyment of my travels or reveal spoilers. However, he had a lot of amusing stories to tell.
During those meals and talks, we grew closer each day, becoming real friends. It amazed and scared me. I had never had a friend before, so it was a new and unique experience. But it also frightened me because I didn’t know how to be a friend. I never learned.
After two weeks, I told Lis, “I think we should relocate to England as planned. We should start looking for workshops.”
“You know this world better, my friend. You decide, and I will follow you.”
We took a train to England, and when we got to London, a border control official informed me, “Your dog needs to be quarantined.”
“Just a second, sir.”
I pretended to look in my backpack and conjured more documents for Rue. When I checked them, they showed Rue had already undergone quarantine. The One of the Crowd ability was fantastic; it significantly simplified life.
Through Airbnb, I found us a two-bedroom apartment in Croydon. Lis continued to study, and I started looking for workshops. After two days on the computer and the phone, I had a list of 50 workshops that I signed us up for every other day. When I showed Lis the list, I feared his face would split in half from his smile.
* Stained Glass-Style Embroidered Sun catcher
* Making a Cut Paperwork Picture
* Raffia Workshop
* 4-Shaft Weaving Workshop
* Drawing Perspectives
* Embossing Workshop
* Street Art Tour and Workshop
* Swing Dancing Class with London Locals
* Traditional Scone-Making Workshop
* Pizza Making Cookery Class
* Sushi Making Workshop
* Chocolate Truffle-Making Workshop
* French Macaron Workshop
* Off-The-Loom Weaving
* Italian Feast Cooking Class
* Taste of Spain Cooking Class
* Watercolour Painting
* Vegetarian Italian Dishes Cooking Class
* Belly Dance Workshop
* Limoncello Masterclass
* Granola Making Workshop
* Paint in the Dark
* Beginner’s Cake Decorating Workshop
* Spanish Tapas Cooking Class
* Mexican Street Food Cooking Class
* Silver Ring Making Class
* Dim Sum Cooking Class
* Indian Miniature Painting
* Fluid Art Bear Workshop
* Perfume Making Class with Essential Oils
* Candle Making Class
* Ethiopian Cooking Class
* Rigid Head Weaving
* Kintsugi Workshop
* Abstract Mixed Media Painting Session
* Bubble Cocktail Making Class
* Japanese Whisky Masterclass
* Bespoke Cocktail Masterclass
* Private DJ Class
* Epoxy Masterclass
* Make a Fascinator Hat With A Designer
* Enamel Jewelry Making Class
* Make Your Own Scrunchie Workshop
* Masterclass in French Cuisine
* Terrarium Workshop
* Glass Blowing Workshop
* Historical Lettering and Printing Techniques
* Screen Printing Workshop
* Flower Arrangement Workshop
* Urban Sketching Tour and Workshop
I had another list for Lis with fifteen workshops I couldn’t attend because I had already done them and converted the points.
Lis said, “Let us finish the workshops we will attend together. By then, I will feel comfortable managing the other list independently in the city.”
And that’s what we did for another three months—workshop, study day, workshop, study day, workshop, study day, and so on.
I finally finished the book on spell construction and moved on to a book on magic basics. This book was also very wordy. What’s wrong with these wizards? All the books I’ve read about mana and magic thus far have stated in two or three paragraphs what a single sentence could convey!
At least we had a blast in the workshops.
The swing dance was a lot of fun, and I couldn’t help but notice how amazing a dancer Lis was. As the music faded and we caught our breath, I turned to him with a grin.
“Lis, you were incredible out there,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder.
He shrugged. “It is all because of my trait numbers,” he explained. “You will be just as graceful when you raise yours.”
That was encouraging.
Lis fell even more in love with sushi and decided to keep the skill. The day after the workshop, he dragged me from store to store, buying everything we needed for sushi making. For a week, we ate sushi every single day. I was glad to have a break from cooking, but I was really getting fed up with sushi.
Finally, I couldn’t even look at it anymore and said, “Lis, if you keep eating sushi three meals a day, you’ll end up hating it. Pace yourself so you can enjoy it for years to come.”
He agreed with me. I was back on cooking duty and ecstatic about it.
As Lis and I entered the Belly Dance workshop, the room buzzed with anticipation. Twenty women, adorned in vibrant hip scarves that jingled with every step, turned to look at us with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. Two older women scowled at us, their expressions as sour as if they'd tasted something rotten. It took me a second to figure out why, but the other women’s enthusiastic smiles and warm greetings made it clear. They assumed Lis and I were a couple, which didn’t sit well with the sour pair, but seemed to thrill everyone else.
“Why the opposite reactions?” Lis asked quietly, leaning in, his voice level and calm.
“They think we’re together.” I jerked my head toward the two disapproving women. “Those two don’t seem to like it. The others are compensating by being extra friendly.”
Lis nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the information as if it were an anthropological insight. “Is this something viewed negatively in this world?” he asked, his tone even, like he was piecing together a puzzle.
“By some people, yeah. Not everyone,” I replied, shrugging.
“Understood.” Lis nodded again, his gaze drifting over the group with a hint of curiosity. “I have come across similar reactions in various worlds.”
“How is it elsewhere?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Lis’s gaze shifted thoughtfully, the hint of a smile softening his face as he considered my question. “The most common pairing in most worlds I have visited is between a male and a female. Roughly seventy to eighty percent follow this structure, though it varies.”
He gestured lightly with his hand, almost as if sketching an image in the air. “Marriage ceremonies are equally diverse. Some worlds have elaborate rites—rituals lasting days with chanting, dancing, and offerings. In others, there are no ceremonies at all. A couple may simply move in together, an unspoken agreement signifying their commitment. Quite a straightforward arrangement, really,” he added with a faint smile.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“In some worlds with more women than men, or where the culture is more female-dominant, it is common for one woman to have several husbands. Often, the men will assist with household duties, share responsibilities, or even work on projects together. They form a family unit with shared goals, almost like a small community within a home.”
He paused, glancing over at the two disapproving women for a moment as if considering their likely shock at such arrangements. Then he continued, “In worlds where the situation is reversed, where there are far more men than women or where men hold more social power, one man might have multiple wives. The women in such families may support each other, managing the household or working together to raise children.”
“Are there… other types of family groups?” I asked, fascinated.
“Certainly.” Lis gave a slight nod, his tone becoming more animated as he leaned forward. “Some worlds have family groups that are quite varied. A common structure includes two men and a woman, or two women and a man, each member bringing unique skills or qualities to the group. And then, in others, there are larger family groups, sometimes with four, five, or even more members, who bond together, sharing both partnership and parenthood. The community is essential in these groups, and each person’s role is clearly defined.”
Lis’s expression softened. “In some worlds, it is customary for women to raise children independently or in supportive groups of women. Here, a woman may conceive with a man, but from that point, she either raises the child on her own or as part of a community of women who share responsibilities. They have developed strong networks, raising children as a collective, each woman serving as both mother and teacher, mentor and guide.”
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “I guess Earth has some catching up to do on the variety front.”
“There are even worlds,” he continued, “where families are not bound by roles based on gender at all. Individuals simply come together, based on who they connect with best, and form bonds that may include shared children, community homes, or even communal parenting. In these places, love and partnership are more fluid concepts, not limited by structure or expectation.”
He straightened, his tone growing softer, more reflective. “In my travels, I have come to believe that companionship, in whatever form it takes, is simply a natural expression of the desire for closeness and unity. Each world interprets this differently, yet the need for connection is universal.”
The weight of his words settled over me. I had always thought of relationships as something fixed by my own world’s customs. But hearing him describe all these variations, I saw relationships as something shaped by culture, need, and the people involved, rather than by any one set of rules.
As I looked back at Lis, he nodded, as though he could sense my thoughts. “One thing remains true, no matter the world,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper. “People will always find ways to connect—ways to build a life together, however that may look.”
The simple truth of his statement lingered, and I looked at the women in the workshop, the two sour ones and the friendly ones alike, with a new understanding. Life had its way of sorting people into connections, whether through circumstance, choice, or even something as simple as a shared activity.
Our next stop was a “Limoncello Masterclass” workshop. I decided I quite liked the stuff and made a mental note to hold onto the skill, hoping other worlds would have lemons or something similar.
Later, after the Make Your Own Scrunchie Workshop, Lis and I stepped out of the small craft store, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. Lis held up his creation—a faux leather scrunchie adorned with small metal pieces—turning it over in his hands with the careful focus of someone studying an artifact of deep cultural significance.
He gave the scrunchie a bemused look before holding it up with a gentle wave, almost as if presenting it. “Earth has a way of surprising me,” he observed, his tone thoughtful, tinged with both curiosity and mild amusement.
I chuckled, watching the scrunchie flutter in his hand. “What makes you say that?”
Lis shook his head slowly, still regarding the scrunchie as though it held some unspoken wisdom. “Two hours dedicated to crafting… hair adornments. Where I come from, such an endeavor might seem frivolous, yet here, it has purpose.” He gave me a small smile. “It is a peculiar custom, but I see its charm. Small things can have meaning.”
I laughed, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I guess it is a bit odd when you think about it.”
He tucked the scrunchie into his pocket with a look of quiet satisfaction. “And I must say, there is something refreshing about embracing the unexpected. Earth may be strange to me, but it is endlessly intriguing.”
We continued down the street, the scrunchie workshop becoming yet another quirky memory in our growing friendship.
While visiting a pawnshop to sell some of Lis and my jewelry, I had an idea when I saw a nearby antique store. I walked around the corner, and after verifying I was alone, I took out one sword, conjured documents showing ownership and history, and went to the antique store. The history papers were very sneaky. The history papers didn’t directly state that the sword was crafted on Earth, but they provided a comprehensive description, using highly professional language, of the time and location where comparable materials and smithing techniques were used on Earth. I gave the system a thumbs up for the sneakiness and workaround without lying. The seller enthusiastically examined the sword and accompanying documents and offered me £1,000. I sold him the sword, and when I returned home, I took out all the weapons I had in Storage.
Luckily, I did it while standing in the hallway’s doorway. Otherwise, the swords would have cut me into ribbons. We didn’t have a living room anymore, but a pile of weapons halfway to the ceiling.
Lis came running to check the noise, skidding to a halt at the entrance to the living room. He just stared at the massive pile of swords, axes, and other weapons, his eyes wide in shock.
He turned to me, his mouth slightly agape. “That is a rather extensive collection of weaponry.”
“Yep.” I picked up a shiny sword.
He stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over the pile. “I must say, it is quite an impressive accumulation of arms.”
“Yep,” I replied, placing the sword back down and moving to the next item.
“May I ask why you have acquired such an abundance of weapons?” Lis asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.
“When traveling in Shimoor,” I began, picking up a rusted dagger, “I saw a general store selling old swords for a few coppers. I purchased one, cast Restore on it, and it returned to its original state. I bought all their stock, and it turned out the shopkeeper had a shed full of weapons, so I bought those too. From town to town, I would buy all the cheap old weapons. In every capital city, I went to the blacksmiths’ and bowyers’ areas to buy their old, damaged weapons for cheap. I just put them all in Storage and have slowly been restoring them.”
“And what are your plans for them now?”
“I thought I’d conjure documents for them to sell at an auction house,” I explained, shrugging as I picked up another weapon.
He nodded thoughtfully. “Do retain at least one of each type for yourself.”
“Why?”
“I am not certain if you have noticed this, but with the Guidance, more often proves to be better. You are pursuing a fighting class, and it would benefit you greatly to become adept with as many weapons as possible. I promised to train you with the sword, and I can instruct you in knife fighting as well. You already have Archery, so broaden your skill with the other weapons.”
“I have staff fighting, too,” I told him, returning an axe to the pile.
He gave a satisfied nod. “Did you purchase it for points or master it through dedicated effort?”
“I train in it.”
“Very good.” He inclined his head approvingly. “Then continue with throwing knives, throwing axes, fighting with axes and longswords, crossbow techniques, and any sword style you can find in a workshop or class. Mastery in these areas will ensure that your class develops most effectively.”
“Thank you,” I said, genuinely grateful for his advice as I continued sorting the weapons.
Lis went back to studying, and I started sorting the weapons. I put aside the ones I had already restored and the ones in terrible shape. I selected all the different weapons to learn and then went through the rest.
Most of them were in average condition, and I restored them, but not completely. I wanted to keep some mana, and I didn’t want the weapons to look too new. I would restore each item to a condition where it showed its use without being excessively damaged or falling apart, apply a Clean spell, and then set it aside. This process took me over two months, with breaks to regenerate more actively. On Earth, my regeneration was three points per minute; with active regeneration, it was five points per minute. The mana amounts here were too low. At least my channels were slowly expanding more and more; soon, I’d be ready for another spiral.
I did the same with the bows and some leather armor, adding all the Shimoorian arrows to the pile. In total, I had 512 items, not including the arrows. Most of them were melee weapons and shields, with some bows and leather armor thrown in.
During this time, Lis and I became closer friends, and our dinners together turned into an everyday tradition. We never seemed to run out of things to discuss, often laughing until our eyes watered. Yet, the closer we grew, the more I noticed Lis’s way of expressing himself physically. He’d touch my hand for emphasis when talking, hold my arm to direct my attention, give me a solid pat on the back, and, if I made him laugh, he’d tousle my hair with a friendly grin. On several occasions, after I helped him with something, he’d even sling an arm around my shoulders in a quick, casual hug.
The first few times this happened, I felt a flash of discomfort—an unease I couldn’t quite place. Physical affection between men was rare in my world outside a handshake or a slap on the back, so his gestures felt unexpectedly personal. Each time, I’d stiffen slightly, unsure how to respond and feeling a bit out of place. My mind raced, questioning the intent behind these touches, and for a moment, I worried it might mean something more.
But then I started paying closer attention to Lis’s demeanor. There was no hesitation in his actions, no hint of awkwardness or implication beyond friendliness. I could tell by his easy laughter and the way he treated others around him that physical affection was as natural to him as breathing. It was simply his way of connecting—his way of showing friendship.
The more I thought about it, the more I understood Lis came from a different world—no, from many worlds—each with its own customs, and clearly, some of them didn’t share Earth’s reservations about physical contact between men. For Lis, these touches were a matter of kinship, warmth, and friendship, not romance.
Once I understood that, I felt entirely comfortable with his gestures. I even returned them occasionally, nudging his arm or clapping him on the back when I agreed with him or felt grateful. It felt natural, a kind of bond that was unspoken but clear, and I finally relaxed into it, appreciating this small but meaningful part of our friendship.
After I prepared all the weapons I wanted to sell, I concentrated and conjured documents for them. I wanted proof it was mine, proof of ownership history, and some documentation of the weapon. It cost me 3,000 mana, and I got a stack of documents half as thick as a phone book. The package contained documents showing that my great-grandfather started the collection and my grandfather increased it. There was documentation for each item, including the work around historical records, a will in which my grandfather bequeathed everything to me, and documents proving that I had paid all the taxes on the collection. It was good that the ability took that into account; the taxes didn’t even cross my mind.
I found a short-term rental warehouse, bought boxes to store the weapons, packed everything so it wouldn’t look like an enormous pile, and took a cab to Christie’s.
At Christie’s, I approached the receptionist and asked, “I have an extensive collection of medieval weapons my grandfather left me in his will, and I want to sell them. Who do I contact about this?”
The receptionist looked up from her computer and asked, “Do you have documentation?”
“Yes,” I replied, holding up a folder.
“Wait here; I’ll call the weapons appraiser.” She picked up the phone and made a call.
After a few minutes, a man in his fifties, wearing a costly suit, arrived. He spoke briefly with the receptionist before approaching me with a warm smile.
He extended his hand. “I’m Parker Walker; pleased to meet you.”
I shook his hand firmly. “John Ripper, nice to meet you.”
“I understand you have a collection of weapons for sale?” he inquired, glancing at the folder in my hand.
“Yes, I have all the documents here,” I said, holding up the folder.
He led me to an office off the main lobby and gestured for me to sit. “Would you care for tea, coffee, or perhaps something cold to drink?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” I replied, settling into a comfortable chair.
“May I see the documents?” he asked, his eyes already looking at the folder eagerly.
I gave him the folder, and he meticulously reviewed each document for the next hour. I watched as his expression grew more and more pleased by the minute.
After reviewing the documents, he looked up with a broad smile. “Christie’s would be delighted to host your auction. How shall we arrange for the collection of the weapons? Are they in the United States?”
“No, they’re already here in London. I can hire a truck and bring them over tomorrow,” I replied.
Parker shook his head and smiled. “There’s no need for that. We’ll be happy to provide transport services.”
I signed a sales contract with Christie’s, and we parted ways. I gave him the warehouse address, and we agreed they would collect the weapons the next day. The next day, a truck arrived with two movers, and they took everything.
A few days later, I saw an extensive article about the “Ripper Collection” and its historical importance. I felt uncomfortable because it wasn’t historical, but then I decided that if someone spends money on a weapon to hang on the wall, they can afford it. I also found it amusing that my last name fit the theme of the collection. After all, you had to be a ripper to use all these weapons.
While waiting for the collection to sell, I enrolled in the London Longsword Academy for lessons in side swords, longswords, daggers, smallswords, and rapier.
I enrolled in Schola Gladiatoria for Sword Fighting (HEMA), Sabre, and Cutlass.
I also signed up for classes in Battodo, Wudang Taiji Sword, Unarmed Striking and Grappling, Poleaxe and Spear Weapons, Kenjutsu, German & Italian Longsword, British Military Saber, Staff & Dagger Work, Sword & Shield Fighting, Kory Iai, Dento Nihon Kobudo Jikan Kai, Muay Thai, MMA, Choi Kwang Do, Stick Fighting, Axe Fighting, Axe Throwing, and Knife Throwing.
The collection sold for over £700,000, leaving me shocked and thrilled.
I continued training almost daily in various schools and dojos while Lis studied. He finished all the books I gave him, and I gave him the next batch, which was even bigger. Sadly, he didn’t react to the amount; he just thanked me and returned to studying.
Life was so unfair sometimes. Oh well, at least I made a lot of money.