image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/b6d59cf2-a38a-40d1-b8f0-8f88056551a5/0_3.png]

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For the next trip to the third floor, the large group stayed together, moving to the top of a hill, only a couple of miles away.

"We will construct a permanent camp!" Melinda shouted. "You have a plan in your mail now, each of you is assigned to a task. We'll dig a moat, raise earthworks and a wooden fence, and protect the camp with stakes. We rest only at lunch. The fog sea on the west is off-limits."

There were more guards hired for the trip, and no little was Peter's surprise when he discovered Daniel among them. His weaponry was impressive: an assault gun and a few grenades. The cook waved to him.

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked, going to meet the man.

"Doing a friend a favor," Daniel said. "A friend of a friend wants someone to keep an eye on his kid, protection stuff."

"Ah, OK… On who?"

"Your girlfriend," Daniel whispered.

“Oh… and by protection… you mean… from what? Me…other boys?”

“Monsters, kid. Monsters or whatever dangers. I wouldn’t spy on a friend.”

"See you later," Peter said, moving on.

Yeah… about monsters, why don’t you hack Alchemy or some other teacher’s phone and see what’s going on around here? Their plans, dangers, type of monsters, anything.

“How does she see a movie, then?”

OK, OK, mister Sarcastic.

Checking his mail, Peter found out he was assigned to tent duty. It made sense. The Cultivators, teachers, and students, were onto the harder stuff, the ramparts. The Body teachers were digging the earth by slamming their fists into it, something akin to Peter's skill, and the Spirit students were pushing it away using a form of Telekinesis, working in large groups. Regina was among them and was doing well. Ariana was there too.

Peter joined one of the groups of normies working on the common tents. There was a medical one, a command center, a cam kitchen, showers, latrines, storage units, and quite a bit of work. The normies ignored him. In general, as Peter, they were keeping to themselves. Grouping together and making friends attracted the Cultivator students' unwanted attention.

That attention was unavoidable now. A group of three Minders has been assigned to supervise them. One, in particular, was making his mission to make the normies' lives miserable by shouting indications every other second, all wrong.

“Why are you putting the tent on an incline?” the Mind student yelled. “Move it!”

“So the rainwater goes around,” Peter explained, trying to keep his calm. “We’ll dig a ten-inch deep trench.”

“It’s a very small incline,” another normie said, one a bit older than the rest. “I have a degree in engineering.”

“Do I look like I care?” the cultivator yelled. “I said move it.”

“Look, man, my parents run a thematic summer camp, I spent all my holidays—” playing the Roman soldier “—there,” Peter tried to explain. “I know what I’m tal—”

The Mind student slapped the back of his head. “I said move it! What? You want to call your girlfriend to protect you?” he added, misreading Peter’s eyes.

A camping shovel is a multitool, his father taught Peter. Trying to restrain his powers, he slammed the flat part into the Cultivator’s groin. The boy screamed murder and collapsed on the ground, holding his privates. Another Mind student moved forward, and got the round pommel in his plexus, joining the first.

The third, a girl, stepped back and raised his hands. “I didn’t say anything, dude!”

“You sure? Maybe you want to say something. Please, do!” Peter growled, his eyes widened in anger.

“I’m good!” the student took another step backward. “Tent is fine.”

The groups in the camp were all looking in their direction, talking or taking photos.

“What’s going on?” a teacher roared. Alerted by the noise, she had jumped up from where she was, like a flea, and landed near the group. Peter had forgotten the name, but her nickname was Miss Body Count.

“It was an accident. We had a divergent opinion about how to put a tent,” Peter explained. “We say it’s OK, he said it’s not and moved too close, hitting his groin on the shovel in the process.”

“And the second?”

“Same.”

“He hit us!” the first Student wailed, between a few sobs.

“He hit first!” the engineer said. “And said he’ll fuck Peter’s mother,” the student added an embellishment.

“Is it so?” the teacher frowned. “Get on your feet!... I told Melinda the Mind section is weak. Now, you stay here,” she put a hand on the student's shoulder, “and you… What’s your name?”

“Peter.”

“We’ll do a test. Hit him again, as strong as you hit him before. I’ll count to three. One, Two, Three!”

“Noo… Teacher, please!” the student pleaded. Nevertheless, Body Count kept him stuck in place. Peter hit milder this time, trying to get the thigh instead of the testicles. It did, partially. The student collapsed again, crying.

Useful…

“What a wimp,” Body Count snorted, looking at the Mind student groveling at his feet. “OK. Here’s my decision. No food for the day!”

“OK, teacher,” Peter nodded.

“Not you. Him,” she pointed at the one on the ground, yelling: “And three hours of meditation! What kind of a Cultivator are you, to be hurt by a simple hit in the balls? You think being a Mind is an excuse?” The second student was back on his feet and was trying to be inconspicuous, but he didn’t escape his fate. “And you, take a shovel and—”

“Hit him?” the student widened his eyes, hopeful.

“Dig the latrines on your own! If I hear any more ruckus, I’ll throw you all in the fog, at night. Tied but not gagged, so I could hear the screams. Dismissed!” The teacher jumped back to her previous location and the students returned to their tasks. The Mind ones limped away, not that Peter’s group was interested in their advice anyway.

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“Well done, bro,” the engineer said when the tent and the ditch were done.

“Told you, I have a lot of experience with camps.”

“I meant the asshole… Risky move, but…”

“Oh,” Peter scratched the back of his head. “Yeah… well, I figured out the excursions are meant to toughen us, so they won’t be as pampered as before.”

But they took over military academies too. West Point, stuff. Those are better at—

“You think we could take on a Body if we group?” another student asked.

“Probably,” Peter shrugged. “But you’ll have to do it on your own. I’m on a self-defense-only philosophy. Hey, Mindshit, you want some more?” he yelled at the Mind student, who was looking at him from the distance, but scampered as soon he was observed. “And deterrence,” Peter added, making the others laugh.

Feels good to be the top dog for once…

They continued their task until only one tent was left. “Guys, do you mind if I take a break?” Peter asked. “I need to… you know… do the other number than one…”

“Sure, bro, go, we got it covered,” the engineer said.

“I’ll go in the grass, too many people around,” Peter said.

“Please bury it, I don’t want to step in it by accident.”

Raising the shovel in the air as a salute, Peter left. Shovel in the storage, a minute later, he told the same story to Daniel, who was one of the guards at the entry points and met no problems. Once outside the perimeter and far enough, he Warped for Redroar's village. He got lucky, she was there, at the tavern across the billboard.

"Hey. I have some friends with me this time. Is it a problem to train a group?" he said directly.

"An ounce of gold per person, for three lessons," the Barbarian said. "I have to skip bounties. When are you coming?"

"Maybe tomorrow…”

“If you don’t, you still owe me the money.”

“Understood. Two questions: what kind of monsters are roaming around, and is there any blacksmith in town? I have a weapon I'd like to order."

“First question: don’t worry. We had Mana before the assholes arrived, our wildlife has next to no crazed specimens. It will stay away from large groups.”

“Good,” Peter sighed.

“But there are bandits,” she continued. “The Cultivators turned our economy into shit. They don’t get close to large Cultivator groups as well, but keep your eyes peeled if go out alone.”

“And for the blacksmith?”

"I dabble in the trade," she said. "You'll not find a better blacksmith for a hundred miles."

Probably because there are none. Nevertheless, Peter drew her a sketch of what he had in mind, before saying goodbye and heading back to the camp, arriving just when the lunch break began. He and Regina went outside, sitting on the grass, as far as possible from the others. After they ate, he finally asked Regina what was her class.

"A sort of doctor… I think it's because of my heritage…"

"Nice. A Healer is what makes a group survive."

"Err… it's called a Gris-gris doctor… more into traditional medicine…"

You're joking, right? Only silence replied. Right?

"Hm… this grass is wonderful… I'll collect it and make a few… items," Regina said, looking around.

What?

I know what a—

You have received +10 APs in Charisma for discovering what true love is.

"Yeah, I think it's true," Peter whispered, admiring Regina, cutting grass with a pocket knife, an adorable expression on her face, with puckering lips, her position, bent from the middle, quite enticing. Do I gain stats by exercising?

"Sweetheart, I'm going for a hike," Peter said to Regina, who was just returning. There was still about half an hour left from the break.

She kissed him, then he Stealthed, making her let out a short yelp, then Warped. The Stealth stayed on even when he arrived at the end of the jump. He continued his trip, going to the beach bar. Stopping a hundred yards farther, he surveilled the premises first. His doppelganger was there.

Peter swallowed a Mana pill and rose up. He approached in the open, to warn his other self and the bartended about his presence.

"Hello," he said. "I’m glad I found you here.”

“I live here,” Peter Two said.

“Err… Like here here?” Peter looked around because there was no house or tent in view.

"In a permanent camp two miles North. Jimmy will call me if I’m not in the vicinity."

"You live here permanently or—?"

“Any news?” Peter Two cut Peter One’s rant short.

“About?”

“The fake IDs,” the doppelganger said with his teeth clenched, meaning: Are you an idiot?

"Working on it… Any news on your part?" Peter ignored the other’s attitude.

"We were notified to stay out of your area. Some of my… higher floor contacts told me that starting Wednesday, there will be a 'Get the flag' contest between Colleges. Those who conquer another camp will order its students around. The top three colleges will get prizes."

"I scouted the locations a bit, I’ll draw you a map..." Peter Two said, taking a napkin. “This your camp,” he drew an x. The rest are spaced in a grid… to have about the same distance between locations.

"Thanks," Peter promised, taking a look at the map. "Twelve camps?"

"So far as I know, yes."

"One of my… friends has a theory, that this Tower was once ruled y a System. Can you find more information about it?"

"Yeah, that's what we think too. The Cultivators conquered the Tower and enslaved the System."

"I have to go. Come to see me on the weekend, I hope to have more news by then," Peter from Two continued.

"I will. Take care."

“I expect to have news about the fake IDs soon.”

After leaving the bar, Peter went to scout the other camps. There was a big difference between Cultivators factions. The newly joint college of Yalevard had a military camp, with watchtowers and barbed wire around, and was guarded by tanks and soldiers.

“You motherfuckers,” Peter showed the camp the middle finger, albeit no one could see him in Stealth.

Snobs…

A few miles further, there was a bigger surprise.

"What the heck is that, Hogwart?" Peter cursed. He was looking at a full-fledged medieval fortress, with fifty-foot-tall stone walls and a keep.

I bet they teleported all their Campus here.

A few miles further, a camp with a Chinese flag. There were no fortifications but a lot of people and countless small tents. Peter put a halt to his scouting there and returned to his camp. As soon as he got back, his phone buzzed, an announcement, and he was assigned to work on the earthworks. That was harder than expected, even with his stats, and took all afternoon. After the task was finally done, he took a shower and rejoined Regina.

"How's going?" he asked.

“I missed you,” she smiled at him. “I have good news: Rank two students are allowed to have their own tent. We can… stay together,” she whispered the last two words in his ear, and then they kissed.

"Lend me your ears," Melinda yelled, rising ten feet above the ground. "After tomorrow, a capture the flag game begins, against eleven other Colleges. The rules are simple. Points are given for scoring hits on the other college’s students, resisting an attack, or taking an enemy flag and bringing it into our camp. There are protection wards around the trial area, so any possible lethal attack will detected and inhibited. A direct hit will mark the player out for the day. Tomorrow, there’s a strategy meeting in the morning, and then you're free to walk around, train, or relax. Monster-repelling totems have been installed around the trial perimeter. That's all."

When night came, Daniel, Regina, and Peter stuck together, while Ariana and Naomi went with Jack's group. There were two causes: to keep the appearances or just hang together, they were friends, after all. Peter didn’t dwell on that. The cook made a wood fire barbecue for their group, with more Crazed Bear meat, and it was even more delicious. He brought beers too, a welcomed addition.

"You want to see a demonstration of my powers?" Regina asked when the two were alone in their tent.

"Of course!" Peter cheered.

"I have a personal spatial storage in which I can store up to six dolls, and apply various effects to them." She stretched her hand, and all of a sudden, a straw silhouette appeared. It was Peter, unmistakably. It had spiky brown hair, made from darker straws, large blue-gray eyes, dried flowers, and a simulacra of his favorite shirt and jeans made from some fabric. "Can you cut yourself, baby, so I can heal you?"

"Err… Fine…" Grimacing, Peter ran a pocket knife over his palm, keeping the cut shallow.

"Now look. Healing pill." She touched a qi-pill over the doll's hand, and Peter's wound disappeared in moments. Next, she kissed the straw figurine's head.

"You're amazing!" Peter said. He felt her kisses almost as if they would have been real.

"I know. Amazing's my middle name," Regina's voice rang in his ear, albeit she had whispered to the doll.

"Now the most important part," the girl spoke. She threw the doll into the fire.

"Whoa!" Peter jerked, preparing to feel the burn. Nothing came.

"My dolls are of two types. For friends or enemies. I can't inflict harm on the first, or heal the second. And a friend must be a true friend, and an enemy a true enemy. "

"That's beyond OP. When you said you can use up to six dolls, did it mean that's the max number you can use, or just store?" Peter asked.

"Just store. I can make more."

"Good to know… This means I can help you with my storage."

What about you do that tomorrow, and go stay with Naomi and Ariana for the night? We need some privacy.