I clicked into the message. The phone number was public, but the area code didn’t look like anything from around Selic.

Weird.

Like every other young male player in the world, when The Gladiator threw down the gauntlet with his ‘Challenge me, boy’ thing, I’d felt like he could only mean me. The timing was too good. I was at the top of the news cycle, making a splash in a strange place for anyone to do such a thing, and it just felt right.

Now I had someone with my phone number who was very sure that there was more to it.

I didn’t reply. The most likely outcome was that they were some kind of lunatic, and sending them back an inquisitive message would just add fuel to the fire. I’d leave it where it stood, letting the implications — or suspicions, it felt like — nag at the back of my mind.

There was more at stake in the B&B world right now. I needed to sleep.

**************

Of course, I relived The Gladiator’s fight in my dream. This time, though, I was the challenger, doing my best with a dagger and no experience wielding it. I ran around and around the arena, the same way she had done, knowing my fate.

When it happened, I still jumped. My eyes raised to the sky as The Gladiator lifted his boot, holding out my body to strike.

I woke up just before my stomach was spread all over the arena.

It got to me. Goddamnit.

I sat up and threw back the covers, getting some fresh air. I was sweaty all over, like I’d actually been running circles again and again while I slept.

There was nothing to do but get up and get going. Claire would be eager — we’d forgone hopping back on last night.

After a quick breakfast, I was ready to go.

--Immersing, please don’t disconnect--

I was back in the study, lounging in Lord Piliton’s chair. It dipped down extremely far at the back, like the driver’s seat in one of those show cars that bounce around with strange hydraulic systems. I’d never understood why anyone would make their car less comfortable to sit in, but it was a hobby that didn’t hurt anyone, so I was cool with it.

Claire hadn’t arrived yet. To fill the time, I opened up my stats screen and allocated some spare points. I wasn’t feeling as prepared as I used to, back when the {Asterian Soldiers} were around level 30 and the fights were easier. But I still wavered from Strength — {The Glass Cannon’s} damage more than made up for my low stats.

Attributable Stat Points: (23)(-17)

Strength (10) (+0)

Defence (15) (+5)

Vitality (28) (+8)

Affinity (0) (+0)

Restoration (0) (+0)

Endurance (20) (+4)

Agility (31) (+0)

That should do it.

I still had enough left to make a huge dent in a specific stat if I needed to. If things got really nasty, the final 23 points could go into Agility. I’d zip all the way out of Asteroth and back home to the Yard.

Next, I looked at my skills. I’d neglected them for a while, which I knew was probably hurting my potential. I opened the screen and faced my fears.

1. Warrior’s Rage (Active)

Upon enemy kill, deal 4% increased Damage for 20 seconds. Refreshes with each kill. Max Stack: 25.

2. Spear Proficiency I (Passive)

10% increased damage using Spears.

3. Critical Strike I (Active)

When activated, enemies critical hit zone is increased in size by 20%. 4-minute cooldown.

4. Brute Behemoth I (Passive)

Upon enemy kill, Strength and Endurance are increased by 1. Stacks up to 10. Decay rate: 1 minute.

There were two new ones, and two old ones. I felt bad for still not taking [Spear Proficiency], but it just didn’t make sense for me. For similar reasons, [Warrior’s Rage] was out. The battle was between the two newbies, and I was leaning towards [Critical Strike]. The final option was cool, and I was confident I’d take it at some point to buff up my Passive skills, but for now it was being left behind.

Besides, [Critical Strike] would work immaculately with {The Glass Cannon}. If I could get the skill levelled up high enough, I’d have far less concern about intuiting the exact right weak-spot every time I faced down a new enemy. It was particularly annoying when it came to boss fights, as it was rare for me to get a hit in.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I considered rolling the dice again, but Claire appeared in her chair. She immediately yawned. I yawned back,

“Don’t do thattt, now I want to go back to sleep,” I complained.

“I can’t help it! You’re just so boring.”

“Nice one. Have a restful break last night?”

She paced the room, debating. “Not really. I had dinner. Listened to some music. Tried to knit. Pretty standard for me. How ‘bout you?”

“Dinner with the fam, then went to a pizza night with some friends. They’re Elthen Fields players.”

“Oooo. Fancy people.”

I laughed. “Yeah, no. Actually, one of them is, I guess. But you wouldn’t know it. They’re all cool.”

There was no way I was delving into the nitty-gritty of our friendship group. There was too much history there to get bogged down in. If Claire ended up in this imaginary guild we’d started to cook up, then she might end up working it all out herself.

“Anyway, let’s get cracking. I assume we’re telling Piliton that we’re going to stage a coup d’état with him?”

“Yessir. Let’s give him the good news. And I want to see Penny. I’m considering adopting her hairstyle.”

We left the study. The manor was bustling. Percival juggled trays of coffee whilst shaking a small white dog from one pant leg. Someone placed a stack of papers on the top of his head. I felt bad for the poor guy.

“Morning Percival! Can I help you there?”

“Help?! Gods no, boy. Any butler who can’t do this may as well go jump in a ditch! This is what I live for.”

“Right. In that case, could you whip me up something for breakfast?”

He clicked one shoe on the ground in a salute. “Coming right up! Hash browns with an avocado salsa.”

I was curious what buffs I could get from a decent stack of well-cooked, nutritious food. It was something I wanted to look into now that I knew how to use my inventory.

“Claire-y! Ollie…ee!”

Penelope came ripping around the corner, bedecked in a new purple dress. There was a white flower tied into her hair, but it fell out when she scampered over to us. She latched onto Claire and poked her tongue out at me.

Piliton followed after her. “Morning, Claire. Morning, Oliver. Penelope has given me the sober news that my pumpkins aren’t doing too well. Isn’t that right, P?”

“Too acidic!” she yelled, rushing over to a bookcase. She hauled down a blue book with an imprint of a horse on the front, then began to flick through. When she found her page, she rushed back to Lord Piliton and showed him.

“Uncle Pilly, this is what you need to do. Don’t block up the ditch! Gather some pine needles and use them as mulch. Much better for the environment.”

Lord Piliton took the book and confirmed her diagnosis. There were a number of workmen standing outside, whom he put to work immediately.

“Miss Barth demands pine needles! Each of you gather a barrel full of pine needles from the trees at the boar shed, then spread them around the pumpkins as mulch. If that doesn’t cover the area, do it again. Clear?”

The men tipped their caps and set off. It was satisfying to see Lord Piliton take orders from Penelope. It gave me some hope of working with the man, not for him.

He turned to us. “And you two! Well, where do we begin? I’m sure you’ve both been coming up with all sorts of machinations to bring down the King. Would you like to hear mine?”

I nodded rapidly. I hadn’t thought of a single one.

“Well, I’ve got some people spreading rumours for me, but I need some physical proof to support those rumours. Stealing away Penelope was good, but it wasn’t pervasive enough. People are already miserable in Bretonhal — they don’t care if a little girl goes missing. I need you to sow the seeds of fear in some of the towns. Herayule would be a good start.”

Yeesh. No more Mr Nice Guy.

“I see. Do you have any specific ideas for sowing fear? We don’t exactly want to kill people.”

He blanched. “Oh. Never! No, you misunderstand me. I wish to rule Asteroth, that is true, but I also wish to have loyal subjects to rule over. If you kill them, what’s the point? Just create issues that can be directly attributed to the King. Damage some roads. Set fire to a field. Rob a couple merchants.

Seems like those things are getting increasingly severe.

“And how will we know that we’ve done enough? When will we be rewarded?” Claire asked. I felt like we should’ve had a more solid understanding of this before we accepted the quest.

“You will have done enough once I sit on the throne. That is your win condition.”

“I feel like that’s a task worth more than ten thousand krad each. If you could achieve these things without us, you would’ve done so already.”

Piliton narrowed his eyes at Claire. It wasn’t anger, but he didn’t seem like a man who enjoyed being extorted.

“Very well. I shall add a second condition. I shall double your pay if you are able to achieve this without taking a single life.”

Phwaw. It was lucky I saved the stat points. I’d be running away from a lot of fights.

It also meant I could put {The Glass Cannon} away.

“Done.” I accepted before Claire could make a rebuttal offer. Twenty thousand krad was an absolutely astounding amount, even by real-world B&B standards. I thought I’d been dulled to that kind of thing since taking on the debt for {The Glass Cannon}, but clearly I had not.

Percival served my breakfast while Claire and I had sat down to formulate a plan. After Piliton had dropped his own suggestion, he didn’t wait for us to enlighten him with ours. I was very glad.

Ingested: {The Full Percival Breakfast}

+5 Defence

+8 Endurance

+2 Agility

Hot damn. Delicious and statistically nutritious.

The +8 Endurance couldn’t have come at a better time. We’d backtracked all the way to the southern border of Asteroth, and we had some travelling to do. Unfortunately, despite a world full of magic, no one had thought to invent a river that ran uphill. We would be on foot the whole way unless we found someone willing to pick up two strangers.

And if the job went right, no one would be willing to pick up hitchhikers anymore. We were fearmongers now.

“How’s your moral compass going?” I asked.

“It’s fine right now, but I’m sure it’ll take a tumble when he demands something ludicrous and I have to decide between twenty thousand krad and…I dunno, stealing the mascot donkey of Herayule.”

“Is that a thing?”

“Don’t know. If it is, then I know where we’re heading first.”

I finished off the final hash brown and used a finger to mop up the last of the avocado salsa. It occurred to me that it was just guacamole and salsa mixed together.

“I’m pretty keen on that road damage thing he mentioned. It seems small, but what if we really mess up the roads that go to the borders of other countries? All the merchants coming in will go through each town, complaining about how crap they are. Everyone will talk about it.”

“Yeah. Fine. It’ll take a while for word to spread, but sure.”

‘I’ve got time when it comes to twenty-thousand krad. A lot of it.”

Claire grinned and pushed off the couch.

“Then let’s go dig some damn big potholes.”