The sun was hidden behind clouds and it looked like it might rain. A cold wind blew down the street, and I pulled the hood over my head, wrapped the wool cloak tighter. It hung down to my knees over a shirt and pants too thin for this chilly weather. I must have looked like a monk. A monk freezing his balls off.

Not far from the flat, a beggar sat at the side of the street. An old woman wrapped in rags and a red cap over her head. She was chewing on sunflower seeds, cracking them loud between her few scant teeth. I stopped to ask her for directions to the market square.

She squinted at me for a long moment before speaking. “You don’t look the same. What happened ta ya dear?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied.

She chuckled. “Methinks ya do.”

I didn’t want to play whatever games she was on about. There was no way she’d know about me, ‘Jack’ in particular.

“The market square?” I asked her. “Know how to get there?”

“Ya don’t belong there.”

“Why’s that?

She laughed, reached with her hand and gave me a handful of sunflower seeds. “Here, chew on em, and you’ll see.”

She told me to head down the street until the city square, then veer north. I thanked her and walked on while eating the seeds. The route took me through the same city square from last night, the one with the pyre burning demon and human remains alike. The square had blotches of blood in areas, soaked into the cobbled ground. The pyre had burned down to mostly ash, and only a faint wisp of smoke was rising.

I took a minute to catch my breath. Walking had left me exhausted, and I knew why. It was caused by another passive of mine.

[Call of the Void]

* Duration: 12 hours;

* Cooldown: 24 hours

* While active: +100% to all attributes

* While inactive: -50% to all attributes

It explained my miserable stats and how I felt like a weakling. Just like in a video game I played before, I assumed that 100 was the average for an adult, but now I was whittled down to a scrawny teenager. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to affect my intelligence, or memory. I thought of activating it, but wasn’t sure how it’d look in public. So, I left it for emergencies.

Following the main street north, I came out into the market square. The place was crowded and full of stalls, carts, and wagons. The smell of grilled meat made me drool. People shouted and haggled. All manner of wares were on display: pottery, food, clothing, armor and weapons – they had it all. But, I didn’t get too far before a man in armor caught up to me, and then another two. They got in my face.

“Oi, what’cha doing ‘ere? Eh?” he barked at me.

“Is it any of your business?” I asked.

“Yea, is my business, see?” He pointed to a shiny badge on his chest with an emblem of a shield and sword.

Were they equivalent to the police here? I have lost count of how many times I got into trouble for disrespecting their authority. They were an arrogant bunch with short tempers. I hated him already.

He shoved me back. “Ya ain’t allowed here no more. Now git before we chop ya up some more.”

Now it made sense as to why he was getting in my face. Percy must have lost his left hand for theft or some other crime. A rather barbaric punishment, but it fit the bill for a place like this.

“Fine, I’m leaving,” I said, turned and muttered ‘asshole’ under my breath.

“What’cha say?”

I winced. The guy had good hearing. I had a feeling he was about to kick me. I turned aside and saw his foot kick the air where I was a moment ago. While he fumbled for balance, his two buddies didn’t waste a moment.

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They shoved and sent me crashing to the ground. Kicking and stomping followed. To the ribs, to the gut. Muscles tensed, I curled up into a ball, arms over my face and head. The other joined in and the pummeling got worse.

There was no crawling away from this – I was surrounded. It didn't take long for them to beat my arms aside. Heavy thuds against my head left me disoriented. Jolts of sharp pain left tingling sensations. I was just about to try using [Call of the Void] when a woman’s voice called out.

“Stop. Stop it!”

It was enough to distract them. I rolled aside, scrambled up to my feet and ran like hell. Looking back, I caught a glimpse of her. The guard shouted curses and threats after me, but didn’t give chase.

I didn’t stop until I was back at the city square to the south, breathing hard. I tasted blood that dripped out my nose, wiped it off with the back of my hand. Each breath came with an ache at the ribs. I checked, but it didn’t seem like any were broken. I knew I’d have colorful bruises in the morning.

I added three more faces to a growing pile of people to get back at. I wasn’t sure how I could do it now, but I swore they’d pay for every bit of pain they caused me.

I squatted by the remains of the pyre to warm up. The ground still radiated heat. Was this whole city set against me? I didn’t need them to like me – it was their problem. I’ll be fine, thank you very much, but I had to get busy and fast. As one philosopher said, ‘first you get the money, then you get the power, then you get the woman.’

I needed food, better clothing, and a way to defend myself. I needed to get my abilities and passives figured out. And for that I needed privacy, plus a whole lot of iron.

Thanks to ‘Percy,’ the market square was off limits. Maggie could have warned me. It was time for plan B. If I couldn’t sell the nails, then perhaps Maggie could. I turned on my [Sense Iron] ability. It highlighted wrought iron fences, locks, fixtures and nails of nearby construction, stuff I shouldn’t touch in the middle of the day.

It also showed items buried under the ash of the pyre. I found a twig and used it to rummage through the remains. I pulled out random scraps of iron, still warm to the touch. Not a whole lot, but a good start.

[Sense Iron] also showed specks of iron right under my feet – in the cobblestone. Most of them weren’t at the surface and I couldn’t ‘pull’ any out. It gave me an idea though – iron ore. I recalled passing a blacksmith on the way to the city square. If anyone would know where some could be found, they would.

On the way there, a sign of a potion caught my attention. It was to an alchemist shop at a corner facing the city square. Maybe this world had magical alchemy with healing potions? It was worth checking out. They could help with all my fresh cuts and bruises.

I opened the door and stepped through, checked from side to side and behind me. Nobody ran to stop me from entering. No guards, no yelling.

The place was small, and heavily packed with shelves reaching to the ceiling. A dusty, medicinal scent hung in the air. All the vials, jars, powders and mixtures were labeled, but none of it was familiar to me. At the back of the shop was an older lady. She wore a flowery apron and seemed much too happy to see any customers in her shop.

I walked over to a section with all the potions stocked aplenty. Healing, vigor, regeneration, and a whole assortment of remedies and poisons. The antidotes stood conveniently right next to them.

“I-I saw you die,” I heard a woman’s voice behind me.

I turned, and she ducked her head, looking ready to bolt. It was the same young woman that yelled at the market square for the guards to stop. Was she following me?

She had a white fur cloak draped over her, along with a finely crafted vest over a white blouse, and a skirt that showed a bit of leg. Her eyes, the shade of a burning ember, matched her fiery hair.

I smiled, tried to put on some charm. “Do I look dead?”

She adjusted her glasses, pursed her lips. “I-I saw it at night. In the city square. One of the demons split your … uhm … your head. Wide open.”

I pulled back my hood. “This head?”

“It wasn’t just blood that I saw, but other … filling.”

I ran my hands through my hair, and smiled. “It’s all still there, I assure you.”

Her eyebrows furrowed into a look of concern. “W-What’s your class, if I may ask .. that is .. if you don’t mind?”

Outworlder 179? I wasn’t going to tell her that, not to a stranger I just met and didn’t trust. The conversation was going nowhere, and I remembered why I walked in.

“Do you know if they sell healing potions here?” I asked.

She brushed stray hair from her face, wrapped it back around her ear. The smell of roses drifted in the air. “T-They were going to kill you ... in the market .. a-and if I-”

“I know. You saved my life, and for that you have my gratitude. Thank you.” I gave her a short bow.

“I was just … curious, because-”

“I’m just a maker of nails. That’s all.” I lied through my teeth, but she looked skeptical. I knew I was dealing with a smart cookie, but she lacked confidence.

She reached out with her hand. “I’m Sofie.”

I smiled and took her hand. “Call me Jack.”

Her eyes widened. “It’s not … Percy?”

Damn it.

I groaned. Could this day get any worse?