image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/58cd2af1-c5e9-4b5a-a544-d0a8ac5a74cd/0_0.png]

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While Alchemy left for good, Kostel was hanging around. He had picked up his weapon, and now was humming a merry melody, strolling on the lawn, hands in his pockets.

Go away, dumbass! Peter cursed.

Sorry?

Peter pretended to yawn and changed his position. A few minutes later, Peter heard the guard go away, still humming.

What was that about?

"Shrug off? He barely managed to keep his pants clean."

"You're shitting me!" Peter blurted.

"All OK?" a random student stopped to ask.

"I'm fine, just talking to myself," Peter waved his hand. You didn't tell the idiot I have the System, right? He'll rat on me the first occasion.

Err what?

"Then how do you work for him?" Peter switched to talking aloud, as they were alone.

So you're squatting a person's mind without his knowledge? This is wrong.

"You know what? You two idiots are a match made in heaven. Go stay with him from now on."

What class is Kostel, by the way?

"If I must…"

For most of the evening, Peter ran around. He delivered the Black Market's parcel and then searched for Alchemical ingredients in the forest. Luckily, monsters were avoiding daylight and he managed to complete the task without problem. Returning to the lab, he mixed the new substances with a few of each type of pill he created earlier. The result was supposed to offer almost instant HPs and MPs recovery.

And finally, the hour to pick back the pet approached. His heart, and mind, were split. Despite finding Alchemy attractive, he didn't appreciate her advances. Maybe Regina was just pretending to like him, but he was willing to take the chance to find out if the warm feeling he felt around her was mutual. Yet… rejecting Melinda could cause him problems.

He arrived in front of the teacher's villa at five to eight, dressed in his best pair of jeans and a nice but neutral T-shirt. Donning the same clothes as for his date with Regina was blasphemy. The building was one of the nicest in town, it had belonged to a rich person, before the Cultivators took whatever they liked and made it theirs.

Like Alchemy wants to do with me now…

The System's consciousness left Peter, and it felt at the same time like missing something and relief. Sighing, he rang the bell.

"Come in. Upstairs," Melinda's voice replied from the speaker.

A buzz signaled the door was open. He entered a vast lobby, marble on the floor and intricate wood panels around. A central stairs dividing into two alleys went up.

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"To the right. Your right," her voice reached him.

He followed the indication to a corridor, ten feet wide. The carpet on it was Persian and exquisite. Before he stepped on, he took his shoes off. His feet sank into the silk as in forest moss. Twenty yards further was the master bedroom, twice his studio's size. On a velvet couch sat Melinda, dressed in a most revealing silk robe. Her full breasts were half-revealed and he could see her belly button. Peter gasped.

"Sit," the woman patted the couch.

He did, but not quite as closed as she might wished, because Melinda frowned. "Are you of age to drink?" she asked.

Peter nodded, walking his eyes around. Art, a lot of art. He could swear some of the paintings belonged in a museum.

"It's an honest collection, even if cheap," she said, noticing where he looked. "I had to settle for the second-tier art. The Louvre. No one under rank nine can touch Orsay."

"Orsay?"

"Where the good stuff is. Rodin, Monet, Renoir… Van Gogh…"

"Oh… I thought the Louvre was cool…"

She giggled. "Yes, for the Americans. But good art, strong art, comes with pain. Struggle. It helps Cultivation. Painting a bland plump woman for a gig can't compare with an artist who cut his ear and then blew his brains off… I wish I could show you the real Starry Night… You feel you're falling into it."

The woman's eyes were watery. She was half-drunk, Peter realized, from the empty bottle lying on the floor. There was another bottle on the coffee table, almost full. She poured a glass, offering it to him. At the last moment, she changed her mind and took a sip. Then, she grabbed Peter by the back of his neck and kissed him, pouring both the liquid and her tongue into his mouth.

It was wild… Innebriating. He lost control and kissed her back until they were both breathless, with him kneading her breasts. When they stopped, he was crying. He had betrayed his own promise, to keep his wits and wait to see where the thing with Regina was going.

"What's up?" her caresse, on his cheek, felt sincere, caring.

"I… have feelings for someone," he confessed. "May I be… excused?"

"I can't believe I did this…" she suddenly erupted in motion, jumping off the couch, walking back and forth for half a minute, then falling back on the couch, both hands over her face. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry," she repeated before letting her head back on the armrest. "You're cute, and I'm… selfish… I thought about you like… a yummy treat… I hope you make it through the trials and have a happy life."

"What trials?" he asked, a bit concerned by her words.

She looked at him with hazed eyes. "Instead of farming the monsters near the school, everybody will be sent to… the third floor of the Tower… The training… will be dangerous." She hiccuped and went limp.

Peter sighed. The woman was snoring softly. That made him detect another snoring, alternating with hers. Behind the couch, his belly up, Shredder was asleep as well, his tongue hanging out. Next to him was a half-eaten steak in a cardboard box, coming from the best restaurant in town, and a water bowl filled with wine.

Geez…

He grabbed the pup under his arm, but before leaving, he gently shook Melinda by the shoulder. She moaned, moving a hand between her tights, breathing heavily. He swallowed a lump and shook her again, and this time, she half-opened her eyes.

"Teacher… if the third floor is dangerous, why don't we start with the first?"

"You silly… aaaah…. boy…" she smiled, yawning. "You already started… the first floor…"

"I did? Where?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"Earth, silly boy… Earth is the first floor."

The words sent shivers down Peter's spine but she began snoring again, so the best thing to do was to leave. Outside, he almost bumped into his colleague, the girl always dressed in black Goth clothes. She frowned at him, and his heart skipped a beat. Please don't tell Regina you saw me leaving Alchemy's house!

Before he finished his thought, she was already turning right on the next alley.

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An hour later, after leaving Shredder—still asleep—in his studio, Peter left the Campus, found an isolated spot, and changed into his armored clothes. It was an uncomfortable feeling, the night was one of the hottest ever on record, for July. The System was still out of him.

Taking out the small drone from storage, and sent it to fly around the city. It was a smart device, and easy to use. It took not long to find his target, somewhere in between the Campus and the forest. He rode on the Yamaha—he needed to familiarize himself with it after all—and parked the bike a block further from his destination, approaching on foot.

There was still traffic in front of the dilapidated building, a few people entering or exiting, carrying large packages, everyone concealing their faces behind a hoodie. Soon, the flow of visitors ended and Peter entered.

The space had been a store, once. Now, on the shelves were cages, and inside those, were jackalopes kits, or mutated owl hatchlings. The most common monsters, and the most hunted, even by normies.

The girl had his back turned on him. "Hi, Shadow," he said.

"Please, don't shoot me!" the girl in a Venom costume screamed, covering her head with her arms."I won't tell, I swear!"

"I have a warg pet, a pup. I need somebody to take care of him while I'm on… missions," he said curtly. She was shivering. It made Peter wish to fondle her shoulder, but he knew the comforting gesture would have the opposite effect, so he stood still.

"A warg pet…" she finally said, calming down a bit. "Why it doesn't surprise me?"

"He's nice, and small for now. Looks like a normal dog… But his shit is so acidic it goes through the ground and he eats shoes. Literally. I have to leave him with someone I can trust… I'll pay. Extra, if you train him to behave nice."

"…Sure," she said, after a brief hesitation.

"You won't keep it in a cage, right?"

"Of course not! This is the triage. We better facilities on a farm."

"Great. How is your schedule?"

"Mostly free. But I have a couple of friends who replace me if I'm out of town. Call an hour before you come," she gave him a visit card. "You leave and pick up your pet here. It's two hundred bucks per day. Sorry… It's… hard to take care of so many souls. We need pet food, drugs—"

"It's OK. Nice costume," he said while leaving.

Once outside and on the motorcycle, a familiar voice greeted him.

Hey, you're back.

"…we didn't push it too far."

"Yeah… she told me we're going to hit the third floor of something called the Tower, and Earth is the first floor… whatever that means. She was drunk."

The curse sounded so loud that Peter swerved on the street and almost crashed on the walkway.