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The evening's golden hour bathed the Campus in a sweet light. At times, a few noises disturbed the peace, the singing birds and the occasional car in the distance. The peaceful vibe was deceiving, Peter knew better. Gluing himself to the building's wall, he peeked around the corner.
His Nemesis was there, and it was not a surprise; like clockwork, the beautiful evenings attracted the gang outside. On one of the lawns belonging to the sports facilities, Jack the Jock and his court of sycophants held court. In other words, skylarking. The boisterous voices nagged Peter’s ears, over three hundred feet away.
Lowering his head between the shoulders, he proceeded onward, trying to become invisible, like Bilbo Baggins, the main character of his favorite book: The Hobbit. It wasn't meant to be.
"Hey, look, there's Peter," a voice called. Ariana, Peter's ex.
Peter raised his eyes, frowning a wordless accusation: 'Can't you just give me a break?' He met only a decided gaze and a firm chin, raised upward. So typical for her; judgmental in every gesture.
"Come here, Petey," Jack beckoned.
"What's up, Jack?" Peter asked, attempting to appear confident as he approached the group.
"That's not a proper way to address your betters," Ariana said. "It can get you expelled."
"How can I be of assistance, Young Master Jack?" Peter reformulated.
Jack stared at him blankly for long seconds. Peter contracted his abdominal muscles, preparing for the worst. Sometimes, Jack used his aura to make him puke, or choke. Like Darth Vader, if Darth Vader were a college bully,
This time, he was spared. "We're having a party, I reached the second stage," Jack said, forwarding a hundred-buck banknote. "Buy us some beer and leave it in our dorm's fridge. Keep ten as a tip." Gone was Peter's plan to relax in the evening sun, under the trees, reading a book. Peter was twenty-one, but Jack wasn't yet.
It was not Peter's first errand, so he knew well what to do. Getting back on his tracks and out of the campus, the young man hurried toward a small deli. Paying the owner fifty bucks for sixty almost expired beers, and keeping the rest for himself, Peter divided the cans between two gigantic plastic bags and returned to the Campus after taking a secret passage through the greenery hedge.
The gang was already inside the dorm, the music loud. Jack took over the bags using only his index, showing off his enhanced strength.
Getting out as fast as possible, before the jock could find another task or prank, Peter almost tripped into one of the regular security guards. Plump and unshaven, the man sat on the stairs, smoking.
"They asked me to warn them if some teacher comes," the guard explained, albeit Peter didn't ask.
"If a higher rank Cultivator comes, they'll fly or something," Peter said.
"You know how it is… the brats ask, we obey."
Peter nodded and walked away. That was how things worked in the brave new world. He found his backpack on the bench where he left it, and let out a breath of relief. There were maybe fifteen more minutes of the peaceful sunset to enjoy. Better than nothing.
Laying on the grass, he let the dawn bathe his closed eyes, the warm sensation contrasting with the cool mountain air. When darkness came, he rose, preparing to walk away. Nevertheless, he stopped short of leaving, noticing a silhouette on the running track. Jack's girlfriend… or maybe his ex, rumors were they broke up. The name evaded Peter's mind.
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She… doesn't look bad, he concluded. Dark blonde hair, bronzed skin. Long legs with defined muscles. Big boobs, bouncing as she ran. A concentrated expression on her face… A sweet girl next door type, with doe eyes and full, kissable lips. Shaking his head, Peter left, walking toward his dorm. Seconds later, he heard screams. Noes and Help.
He turned on his heels and froze. A hundred and fifty feet away, on the running track, a giant wolf snapped its jaws to bite the girl, who defended herself with a plastic chair. As far as he knew, she was a Mind cultivator, meaning no meaningful fighting skills.
"Hey, scrap face, let her be!" Peter yelled, to attract the wolf's attention.
What are you doing, stupid? he admonished himself while running toward the fight. Exactly the opposite of what common sense asked.
The chair broke into shards at the next bite, and the girl screamed again, falling on her back. Peter yelled again. The mutated animal growled, moving his eyes between the juicy prey nearby and a possible menace. Yet Peter's makeshift plan didn't involve getting into melee with a monster the size of a small horse, and three-inch fangs. There was a javelin rack on the side of the lawn.
Taking a shaft in his right hand, Peter threw. Two arching trajectories—the monster jumping for the girl's throat and the flying javelin—met, and the mutated wolf fell to a side, the sharp stick protruding from his left flank. A second javelin missed its target by a hair, but the animal scampered into the forest, whimpering.
"Are you all right?" Peter yelled, approaching the girl, a third javelin in hand, just in case. That last missile was bent and discolored after being abandoned in the open air for a long time, but it could still be used like a spear.
"T-thank you…" the girl stuttered.
"No problem." Peter offered her a hand.
"You… saved my life," she said hesitantly." There was gratitude in her voice, but also disbelief. How could a normie save a Cultivator?
"I did javelin throwing… before the Awakening," Peter confessed. "I like anything involving shooting." Aiming at a target was not how an Olympic javelin was supposed to work, but he had trained at it, for fun, and re-enactment shows. Roman soldiers rulz, he smiled at the recollection.
"Wait!" The girl rushed to a bench, searched in it with feverish hands, and returned to Peter holding a bunch of crumpled bills. All hundreds. Cultivators didn't dabble in small change. "Please, take it. It's the least I can do."
Peter forwarded his arm at first, then stopped and waved his hands, taking a step back. Stealing from a prick like Jack was one thing, being paid for saving a life felt… wrong. "It's fine, don't bother… We should notify the teachers. A monster getting past the wards is not normal…"
“Oh no!” She slapped her mouth, eyes widened. The sudden pang of guilt gripping her face told him everything he needed to know. Her words only confirmed the worst. "Jack told us earlier he wanted to scare you with a jackalope… A prank… I thought he captured one… but the warg can only mean…"
"He removed a ward totem?" Peter yelled. It was one of the stupidest things to do. The jerk must have forgotten, deciding beers were more important.
"Please… Can you keep it for yourself? We’ll all be expelled if word goes out…"
She forwarded the money again. This time, Peter hesitated longer. It was a good occasion to get the jerk what he deserved… The girl was nervous, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her large, beautiful puppy eyes imploring him…
"Fine," he sneered, pushing back her hand. "But I don't need your money. I need a favor."
"Sorry?" she furrowed her eyebrows.
"Is it true that you and Jack broke up?"
A slight hesitation on her face, before she nodded with a sad expression.
"Don't be sad, he's a jerk. Anyway…" Peter stopped for a second, swallowing a lump and avoiding her eyes. "I won't call the teachers if you… pretend to date me… a few times… We go out for a coffee, that's all… Then you say it wasn't meant to be… but I'm a sweet guy nevertheless…"
"Why?" she asked directly.
It was an honest question, and he gave her an honest answer. "I want to show Ariana I'm over her…"
Keeping his eyes on the ground, he fidgeted his fingers. A soft hand caressed his cheek, and her lips posed a brief peck on the corner of his mouth. "Works for me," she whispered in his ear. "I also want Jack to realize the world doesn't revolve around him. And to be clear, I left him, not the other way around."
With that said, she walked away, brushing the dirt from her clothes while walking.
"Tell Jack to put back the totem," he shouted, and she nodded but did not turn to look at him. Letting himself fall on the grass beside the track, Peter unclenched his hand from the javelin and took his head in his palms. The adrenaline of surviving a monster encounter, and the kiss, made him shiver. Then came the blue text.
You have slain a Crazed Dire Wolf, Lvl. 2 You have created and delivered a Quest.
System Unlocked.
A jolt of pain went through Peter's head and he fainted.