It was a sound he instantly recognised, and smiled in anticipation. He wondered if his desire and situation had created a skill to help him. If so, it would be surprising to get a solution so easily. Without hesitation, he stepped sideways, and a moment later he was in the familiar surroundings of his system room.
Soothing plain metal walls greeted him, which was just the way he liked it. Then, before he could make any order, the wall directly in front of him transformed. A poster had appeared there, its font large enough for him to read from where he stood.
Congratulations, you have received a title.
Title: Hunted Reincarnated:
This title grants two benefits.
* Prevents all scrying techniques that use the individual’s senses from revealing any knowledge that might identify them as reincarnated.
* Grants access to the pseudo-system room.
The pseudo-system room, unlike the standard version, which is not available until ten (earth years) have passed, can be used at any point in a person’s life. It is not the standard room and has a reduced set of functions, which include:
* Storage and recall of notes created within a system room.
* Full access to all personal research carried out in past lives.
* The full archive of generic information, as per the tutorial, remains available.
* Functionality that allows the body to act independently while the main consciousness is in the pseudo system room. This means, unlike normal an observer cannot tell when the pseudo system room is in operation.
* An integrated sensory screen to track what the body is doing while the space is in use.
The pseudo-system room does not provide access to the following functions that you might be used to:
* Viewing and purchase privileges of any auction house.
* Access to the experience shop, including for research and browsing.
* The capability to view the status sheet.
The primary downside to the pseudo-system room is the 8: 1 time dilation that is in effect when you are in it. Every minute in it is equivalent to eight minutes in real life.
* Awarded for: Being reincarnated in a competition while an active operation to hunt all reincarnated humans is in operation.
* This title grants no experience or ranking points and is hidden from everything other than yourself, DEUS and SUPREME.
Tom read the details, and then read them again as he attempted to understand what this title offered.
First of all, it shielded him completely from some forms of scrying, which was a relief. Tom knew for a fact there were skills out there that could effectively look through your own eyes and allowed the sharing of thoughts. If they were used at the right time, a reincarnated person would be revealed even if externally they had done nothing suspicious. The title protecting the reincarnated ones from such a vulnerability was a true boon. Without such protection, the assassins hunting them would have found all of them easily enough, no matter what defenses the older humans had installed.
The knowledge curiously felt first-hand, even though, as far as he could tell, he had never had any strong scrying skills. That was another mystery presented by his missing memories that he would need to resolve at a later time.
The next most important bit was the section in the provided functions which would allow his body to act independently while he was in the system room. It sounded like the pseudo-system room was undetectable, unlike the adult version. The rest of him would continue to interact and even converse naturally while his mind was elsewhere.
A video screen had appeared on his right once he had read the text, and he took a moment to study what it was broadcasting. It was like watching a first-person video that had been put on fast forward. His body staggered to its feet, moved dizzyingly fast, linked arms with a girl with multi-coloured eyes and a tear-streaked face. The two of them hugged and then took a jerky trip across the circle. He and the girl weaved through the milling upset children until they reached the biggest kid in the area. Then they left as a trio. Once they hit the street, they seemed to move so fast, it was as though they were sprinting.
Watching it was disorientating, so he pulled his eyes away from the TV. Seeing a young child, one barely beyond the toddler stage, moving almost too rapidly for his mind to register, drove home exactly how big of a contraction that 8:1 ratio actually represented.
He thought furiously, trying to integrate the ability the title gave him with his long-term plans and what he had learned from Pete and Delilah.
This had to be what the note had been referring to. A hidden title that all those reincarnated got. Hidden, so no one knew about it, which was why they talked around it in code. If he left this active, he would be perfectly safe. The title guaranteed that no one could see through him and notice his more mature brain behind that of the child. That was the good, but the bad was the time dilation.
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He glanced at the screen.
They crossed a room in a jumble of images. Tom saw couches, a water tap, a monster’s head with fangs as long as his forearm mounted on the wall. Then they entered what was best described as a hall or gymnasium.
Less than three seconds of relative time had passed for him. It really drove home how punitive that time dilation was. Staying in his system room was costly, but it was also safer. Was using this continuously the solution? Or did a middle ground provide a better balance?
Or was he thinking about this in a wrong way entirely? Was this pseudo-room a Trojan horse left to trick people into using it to stunt their growth? His memories were fuzzy but he was certain to his core that an evil trick, a perfect apple hiding poison, was something that enemy GODs could subject them to. If he relied on the pseudo room exclusively for his safety and his body got in trouble, then what? He would have to intercede, and the change in behaviour, no matter how brief, would be a red flag to whoever was watching.
Tom pondered the issue and then decided to forge ahead as normal to distract himself.
“Show status screen.” He ordered.
He was expecting a list with his frankly terrible attributes to appear, but instead, nothing happened. The wall continued to display his new title and a noticeable absence of additional useful information.
“System, what’s happening?”
The system is not available in the pseudo-system room.
Then the title flashed to draw his attention to it. Specifically, the items that were excluded.
Tom’s frown deepened.
The majority of the functionality that he was used to, that would have made staying in the system room more tolerable by allowing him to research, was missing. The easy access to the auction house, the experience shop and even the list of skills, spells, traits and titles were not visible for him to use in planning.
“Did any of my titles carry through?”
The system is not available in the pseudo-system room.
“Shit, shit,” he muttered to himself. “How do I find out if any titles have been carried through?”
This time there was no answer, not even a flicker to draw his attention to the title like it had before. There was absolutely no reaction. He wondered if he was going to be blind to his progress until he turned ten or if there was another way to infer or determine the details of his status sheet in the meantime.
“How do I deal with this?” he asked, knowing there would be no response. All he could do was make a note and move on. Mentally he wished the item to join his to do list and the wall to the left flickered.
To do.
1.
2. Plan a build.
3. Confirm the current state of competition and humanity.
….
28. Track down a suitable method to allow viewing of status sheet.
He chuckled. This had to be some sort of record. He had only been reincarnated for a few minutes, and already had a list of stuff to do longer than his arm.
With a thought, he dismissed the helpful list. He knew everything it said, but it was good practice to keep track of his tasks to ensure nothing slipped through.
On the screen, he could see that his body had moved once more. It was now in a dark, dimly lit area.
“Man up,” he told himself. There were two options. The first was to play his new life passively. That involved spending the next few years in this pseudo system room only emerging occasionally to use his fate and practice skills. It had the advantage of ensuring that he would remain safe, but he couldn’t see an approach like that making him strong enough before the competition ended.
With a thought, he entered his body. Sacrificing almost ninety percent of his time by cowering in his system room was not acceptable. For the next week, no adult who knew him would be in contact. If he was going to make mistakes, blending into the new life now was the time to do it.
When he opened his eyes, he found he was crouching in the equivalent of a blanket fort created from a mixture of old broken spears and the cured pelts of insignificant monsters. His memories told him that his two best friends were with him, as was a bowl filled with sweets and chocolates.
“Ta cried.” Bir poked him. Her emerald eye looked almost sinister in the light, especially next to the plain brown one.
Tom remembered the tear-streaked cheeks she had when they had been coming back. “It’s okay. The ritual hurt, and it was a traumatic situation. There was no shame in crying.”
They both looked at him in confusion kind of like he had grown a second head.
What had just happened? Had he broken some sort of rule by accident? Whatever had caused it had struck them dumb. His mind went over his actions with mounting panic to work out his mistake. He had only been trying to make her feel better.
Then he realized what he had done.
He wanted to hang his head in embarrassment. Two seconds! Only two seconds. That was how long it had taken him to break his cover. It must have been a record, and he half expected a ding to signify him getting some sarcastic title. Luckily, it wasn’t that type of system.
They were still staring at him. Confusion in their eyes. He attempted to find the right thing to say. The memories of his younger self came to the fore. “I didn’t cry. You cried worst. You… you were like a crybaby.”
He shoved her, and she tackled him back. And then they were wrestling.
“You’re the crybaby.”
“No, you are.”
Pa tried to separate them. There was a spark between them as their hands briefly made contact, Tom guessed it was some kind of static electricity. He felt himself being pulled away from Bir and at an unspoken signal as one they both turned on the bigger boy. A minute later they broke apart laughing with Bir taking the excuse to grab some chocolates.
Mentally, he was still in shock at slipping up so early. It was time to learn how to be a four-year-old. Something told him it was going to be a long few days.