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Zeroth Moment: My Cheat Skill Is Stupid, So I'll Just Ignore It
Chapter Five: It's Called A Training Montage, Stupid

Chapter Five: It's Called A Training Montage, Stupid

As he'd predicted, the rice was a huge success; all the kids spent half the meal talking about how great rice was (not this rice in particular, to his confusion, just rice in general), and he managed to re-purpose the pot afterwards to stir-fry a few more vegetables in some olive juice (he wasn't sure if this was technically the same thing as olive oil, but it didn't really matter), which tapped out Hotaka's SP completely. The result was still bland and disappointing, but even he had to admit that vegetables stir-fried in olive juice over unseasoned rice was still a big improvement over dry Greek salads, and quite a lot better than nothing at all. With a little salt and pepper, it would probably have been pretty tasty, but spices in all the shops had been outrageously expensive. Topher was astonished that more of the population didn't have goiter.

Makoto and Noboru volunteered to clean up after the meal -- Noboru even hummed a little as he scrubbed the pots and bowls, and Topher had to admit that the kid had a good singing voice. With nothing to do for the rest of the day, most of the kids went to sleep in the loft's eight pathetic excuses for bunks; Topher stayed up for a little while, experimenting with his Attract Object power. He took some of the kids' school supplies and separated them out by weight, then tried using his power on each of them. Unlike Hotaka's Summon Vegetable power, his didn't seem to have any kind of daily limit (or else he had a lot more SP); over the course of the next half-hour, he used it dozens of times on various sizes and weights of objects. His experimentation was mostly consistent; anything under a certain amount of weight (under a pound or so) flew immediately into his hand, although that could be a bit tricky with things on the heavier side (one of the larger cellphones nearly brained him when he muffed his catch). Anything between one and five pounds, such as most of the textbooks, would instead slide over to him (being presumably too heavy to overcome gravity), and anything heavier than five pounds wouldn't move at all, no matter what he did. The size of the object didn't seem to matter nearly as much, but did appear to have a small impact (a cell phone by itself flew farther and faster than a notebook of roughly equivalent weight, for example), but Topher didn't pretend to understand why. Not like magic has to make sense anyway, he mused, twirling a pen around absently. Eventually, he got sleepy enough to crawl into a bunk and prepare for the oncoming night.

Topher slept miserably, as he had expected to do. The thin straw mattress atop the hard wooden boards of the bunk was instantly uncomfortable and rapidly progressed to being downright painful, and Topher had no hope of restful sleep without his CPAP machine anyway; instead, he contented himself with a few snatched dozes between increasingly desperate shifts of position as one spot or the other on his body became too sore or stiff to tolerate. At one point in the night, however, he became aware that he was not the only one having trouble sleeping; the room was pitch-black, but he could hear a rhythmic clicking from the bunk where Hotaka had bedded down that he slowly came to realize was the smaller boy tapping the arms of his glasses against each other. "You should probably be careful with those," he muttered ill-temperedly. "I get the feeling this place doesn't have a thriving optometry industry."

"I've seen some of the local people wearing glasses," countered Hotaka quietly, but he could tell the boy understood what he meant; the clicking noise stopped. After a moment, though, his voice floated through the blackness to Topher again. "None of this makes any sense, Bailey-sensei. I can't figure it out, but... something's not adding up."

Topher groaned. "What do you mean, kid?"

There was a short silence, then a sigh. "Bailey-sensei, exactly how much time do you think elapsed between us being summoned and Ichirou-san being arrested?"

"Hm." Topher hadn't thought about it much. "Not long, I guess. Maybe four, five hours?"

"And how long," Hotaka continued, "do you think it takes to make a full suit of platemail?"

Topher tapped his teeth together. "Probably a long time. A few weeks at least, maybe longer."

"So how did Takano-san have a full suit, perfectly fitted to him, and still have time to go out on some kind of patrol with Arima-sama?" Topher couldn't see Hotaka in the dark, but he could picture the boy's frown. "Not only is it logistically impossible, it doesn't even seem like something the kingdom would let them do."

Topher shrugged. "Could be magic involved, kid. Maybe his Class or his Skills let him summon a suit of armor, like he did the shield. And I get the impression that the kingdom doesn't like telling its S-Rank Heroes 'no', based on the way Little Miss Gravity Queen was acting."

"Maybe." Hotaka didn't sound convinced. "But there are other things too. Ichirou-san walked around wearing clothing from our world, despite the fact that that's the one thing that absolutely guarantees people will know you're an F-Ranker in the current situation." Topher hadn't realized this, and felt a cold sweat break out all along his spine. "The D-Rankers and higher are all training in the castle, unless they're out wandering around like Arima-sama."

As much as he hated to, Topher had to agree. "There were a few things about him that bugged me, too," he admitted. "The guy was wearing jeans, even though he was summoned ten years ago. He could have set his original clothing aside and wore clones, I guess, but how would jeans he wore at fifteen still fit him at twenty-five?"

"He also said he could only clone one object at a time," Hotaka reminded him. "If he's wearing a clone of his jeans, he can't be wearing a clone of his shoes or his hat. But did any of that clothing look used or worn to you?" Topher was forced to admit that it hadn't. "So either he set all that aside ten years ago, and only pulled it out today and got lucky enough to have it all still fit him, or he paid money -- probably a lot of money -- to have someone repair or resize or duplicate clothing from our world. But either way, he wanted people to know he was an Otherworlder when he went out to sell our items -- and maybe wanted people to know he was an F-Ranker specifically."

"Or he was lying about what his power could do. Or he just wanted to look like an F-Rank Otherworlder." Topher didn't like where this conversation was going. "Maybe he wasn't from our world at all."

"Why would anyone do that, Bailey-sensei?" Topher could hear the desperation in the boy's voice. "Our situation sucks. I can't imagine anyone would put themselves in it if they didn't have to."

Topher sighed. "I dunno, kid." He shifted onto his side for the hundredth time. "Maybe tomorrow we can go with Haruko to the castle, and ask him ourselves. If we bribe the guards with some of his coins, they might let us talk to him in the dungeon or whatever."

"And maybe," Noboru's tired voice drifted out of the darkness between them, "we might be able to get some sleep before that happens." Hotaka mumbled an apology and emitted a rustling sound; Topher guessed he had turned over. He did his best to do the same, closing his burning and achy eyes, but didn't have a lot of hope -- for sleep, or for answers.

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The next day, there was a bit of an argument about who was going to do what; all of the kids wanted to accompany Haruko to the castle, and nobody wanted to be left behind in the loft. However, the necessity of guarding all their meager possessions was obvious, so the only real question was who was going to draw the short straw. Eventually, Topher had to put his foot down. "Just like yesterday, Noboru and Makoto are the only ones of us that have any hope of fighting anything, so they're the only ones who can defend our stuff if somebody else tries to take it." He raised his hands to forestall any more squabbling. "I know it sucks, but get over it. The sooner we leave, the sooner we'll get back." To his surprise, the other two backed down as soon as he made his position clear; maybe the Japanese really do know something about discipline, he mused. With no good sleep, he was already starting the day exhausted and irritable, and knew that his mood would not improve anytime soon. The less he had to wrangle these munchkins, the better.

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The trek to the castle didn't take long; Topher realized with a start that the entire town was really small by Earth standards, maybe about the size of a large mall. He grunted, trying to figure out how the logistics of food production must work here, but eventually realized that it probably didn't matter; for all he knew, there was a guild of Food Mages who could summon ten tons of rice for the cost of a magic stone, and the entire discipline of agriculture might not exist here. Thinking about it made his head hurt (a problem he didn't need with an existing sleep-deprivation headache), and he resolved to concentrate on the problems at hand.

The guards at the gate wanted nothing to do with them at first, but once Topher name-dropped Arima and Takano, they got with the program fairly quickly; it didn't take much imagination on Topher's part to guess how the S-Ranker dealt with incompetent minions. In short order, they were shown to a large courtyard, where Takano and a few other high-ranked adventurers were training.

Topher had felt more out-of-place a few times in his life, but it was a short list. Every one of the members of Arima's party was decked out in extremely nice equipment -- probably all magic gear, if that kinda stuff exists here -- and seemed to be utilizing a dizzying array of skills to destroy training dummies and obstacles, even though they'd only been on the planet for about a day. He shifted, uncomfortably, in his dirty flannel bathrobe and grungy tank-top as memories of his previous day's adventures -- chopping vegetables, scrounging for what was effectively garbage, and running away from what had probably been the scene of a crime -- formed an unpleasant contrast in his mind.

Even the S-Rank herself wasn't loafing; he watched her dance between two sparring partners with impossible grace -- probably S-Rank Dexterity, on top of everything else -- and whirl in perfect balance to knock them to the ground uninjured without even using her Supreme Gravity Skill. Despite himself, Topher was impressed. I think the most impressive thing I could do at that age was drink a six-pack of beer and then throw up.

It didn't take long for them to be noticed, but when they did, Arima simply rolled her eyes and ignored them; Takano, on the other hand, dropped what he was doing and came running like a golden retriever. "Haruko-chan! You came!"

"Yeah!" Haruko was blushing so fiercely Topher thought she might pass out. "I didn't mean to interrupt your training, though..."

"It's fine. We've got plenty of time to train, they said; we won't even be going out for our first hunts for another month." The light-haired boy rankled something opaque in Topher; after a moment, he realized what it was. Rich-boy syndrome. This dude's probably never had to struggle for anything. He wanted to dislike the kid, but just couldn't bring himself to do it; being privileged wasn't actually the same as being an asshole, no matter what it felt like sometimes. "Anyway, I was really upset when I found out they'd made you leave the castle," the boy continued. "If I'd found out beforehand, I wouldn't have let you go off without any protection like that."

"It's fine! Really!" Haruko waved a hand dismissively. "Bailey-sensei and the others have taken really good care of me. You don't need to worry about me, really!"

"There is one thing you could probably do for her, though." The words coming out of Hotaka's mouth seemed to catch everyone by surprise, including him. "Her Unique Skill is Flower Magic, and she doesn't know how to use it. We were wondering if it's something she needs mage training to use?"

Takano seemed mildly irritated that Hotaka had spoken to him, but couldn't maintain it in front of Haruko; instead, he cast about for some support. "I don't know anything about that, but Misaki-san has a Unique Skill like that." He called another adventurer over to him, who turned out to be a thin-faced girl in a red robe holding some sort of wand. "Misaki-chan, did you need some kind of magic training to use your Unique Skill?"

The other girl nodded. "Yeah, they gave me a spellbook to read, and I figured it out pretty quick. The C-Rank and D-Rank mages apparently can't just pick it up like that, though, so I think the castle staff plan to give them actual classes."

"Oh." Haruko deflated visibly. "I guess... I couldn't possibly learn how to use it, then."

"Nonsense! It might take you a little longer... I mean, being, um, lower-rank and all..." -- Takano was becoming more uncomfortable by the word -- "but maybe we can work something out!"

The red-robed girl smiled. "Takano-kun, you're such a soft touch." After a moment, however, her face hardened into a grimace. "But I don't think they'd let an F-Ranker attend the classes, even if she could understand them. There's probably no room."

"How could there be no room?" Topher's question cut the air like a loud fart; the four kids turned, as if surprised he was still there. "They had to have had some wiggle room in how many kids with mage talent they were going to get. It's not like they knew ahead of time that they were going to get exactly so many mages of exactly such rank." As the words left his mouth, though, he had to wonder, or did they?

"See! Uncle America speaks sense." Takano beamed. Uncle America?! "You there," he called to one of the guardsmen standing around nearby, "speak to whoever's teaching the mage classes. Find out if they can accept an additional student."

The guard boggled. "What do you mean, Great Hero? She's an F-Ranker."

Takano's expression turned unbelievably cold; in that instant, Topher knew, with absolute certainty, that this teenage boy was going to kill a great many people. His stomach roiled and his bowels clenched; Let's just hope they're bad people, he thought to himself shakily. "Are you questioning me?" Takano asked the guard, very quietly.

"N-no, no sir." The guard had blanched so hard that he'd almost passed out. "Miss, if you'll come with me, we'll see about the... possibility." Haruko looked back at Topher for support, but the guard was hurrying her away, and didn't look like he was willing to stop to wait for the rest of them. In a few moments, she was out of sight.

Takano was gazing at them with mild curiosity, and Topher could tell he had a fleeting opportunity to exercise his D-Rank Customer Service capabilities. "Thanks for your help. She said you were a pretty great guy."

"She did?! I mean, of course she did." Takano puffed up like a pigeon, and Topher barely managed to keep his expression neutral. I guess some things about teenagers are the same in any world. "Is there any other service I can do for you, then? I'm grateful for your assistance to Haruko-chan."

"Well, I kinda hate to mention it," Topher hedged, "but the guy you protected yesterday, that presumably got hauled off to the dungeon here? We were hoping we could have a word with him." He pondered carefully for a moment how to justify the request, then added, "He was supposed to sell some things for Haruko, and we wanted to make sure he hadn't kept anything of hers."

"Certainly, certainly. You may find the dungeons down that hallway -- I escorted the fellow there myself, yesterday afternoon. I don't know when they'll get around to investigating whatever happened, but at least the gentleman is safe while he waits."

If probably not very comfortable, Topher thought but did not say. He nodded in what he hoped was a proper distance between respectful and authoritative; the kids here seemed to respect his status as an elder enough to offset their disdain for him as an F-Ranker at least a little, and he would have to be careful how he navigated that. "Thanks again. We'll handle it from here."

"Of course! Best of luck to you." The young man turned, a shield appearing in his hand, as another sparring partner stepped up to him, and he drew a wooden sword from a sheath at his waist with his other hand. "If you'll excuse me..."

What followed was astonishing; in the blink of an eye, Takano took eight lightning-quick steps. Each time he stepped, the practice sword in his hand lashed out like a striking snake, connecting with a solid thunk directly between the eyes of not one, not two, but eight sparring partners, who had appeared just as rapidly around him before Topher had even noticed they were there. It took several seconds for Topher to remember to breathe. Jesus Christ. And this kid's B-Rank. What are the S-Rankers like when they get serious?! After a moment, Hotaka tugged on his sleeve gently, and Topher did not need much prompting to get the hell out of there.

As they slipped away towards the dungeon entrance, Hotaka muttered something to himself; Topher leaned closer and nudged him. "What's on your mind, kid?"

"It just keeps getting weirder, Bailey-sensei," the boy replied. "Takano never held a sword in his life before yesterday afternoon. He was captain of the baseball team."

Topher nodded. "Yeah, but I'll bet the other girl couldn't understand a whole textbook in an hour before, either. Coming here must have... I don't know, enhanced their abilities somehow."

Hotaka nodded, then said what Topher was thinking. "Why them, and not us?"

"I don't know, kid." Topher sighed. "But let me give you a piece of advice." He reached out, gripping the heavy door to the dungeon, and pulled it open. "I've been asking myself that since I was your age, and I'll let you know when it does me a lick of good."