"Bailey-sensei! Bailey-sensei, you won't believe what happened!" Makoto greeted them with raised hands; Topher and Hotaka practically flinched, but Haruko smiled at the other girl's enthusiasm.

Upon returning to the loft, Topher had expected one of a small pool of possible emotions from Makoto and Noboru: "irritation", "boredom", and "indifference" were currently tied for first place, but "excitement" hadn't even been in the betting pool. He raised an eyebrow and adjusted his glasses. "Guess we'll never know unless you tell me, huh kid?" Despite his gruffness, he was secretly relieved to find the two teens unharmed; despite Cailu's reassurance that the loft was safe, he'd still felt nervous.

Makoto rolled her eyes. "Omigod, Bailey-sensei, you're such a goof." Her words, however, couldn't erase the smile from her face. "Noboru-kun got a new skill! Can you believe it?"

The fat boy was looking sheepish, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. "It's dumb. I was just singing while tidying up a little, and bam, all of a sudden the both of us had a weird feeling come over us. When I checked my status, I had a new skill." He described it to Topher, who updated the sheet he'd written out for Noboru:

Name:

Noboru Taniguchi

Level:

1

Class:

Cantor

Strength:

Rank D

Dexterity:

Rank F

Constitution:

Rank D

Intelligence:

Rank F

Wisdom:

Rank D

Charisma:

Rank F

Skills:

Literacy (Rank D)

Mathematics (Rank D)

Video Games (Rank D)

Drawing (Rank D)

Comedy (Rank F)

Special Skills:

Chant of Vigor (Rank F)

Unique Skill:

Destroy Paper

"Hmm." Topher spun his pen in his right hand, then rubbed his chin with his left. "I guess this means our statuses aren't set in stone. Any idea what it does?"

"Oh man, you have to see for yourself!" roared Makoto. "Noboru-kun, show 'em!"

The other boy blushed a little, but obligingly began to softly sing under his breath. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, all of a sudden, a soft tide of sensation washed over Topher. At first it felt like the slight rush of heat he occasionally felt when he'd soaked in a warm bath for just long enough for it to raise his core temperature, but after a moment everything else fell away in light of what he realized he wasn't feeling. His head didn't hurt. His eyes didn't feel grainy. Even his knees and his back, miraculously, ceased to hurt for the first time in nearly ten years. Topher almost wept. "Oh, wow. What is that?!"

"It must be some kind of group effect, Bailey-sensei." Hotaka was studying the air in front of him intently; Topher realized he must be looking at his status window. "I can definitely see my stats being affected; my HP and maximum HP both went up by 1."

Noboru stopped singing, but the effect continued to linger on. "It seems like it gives you a little extra energy if you're tired, and I guess it probably increases your stats a tiny bit if what Hotaka-kun says is true. I thought it might only affect one person, but it looks like it affects all my allies near me, or something. Who knows what counts as an ally, though."

Topher was very nearly insensate. He felt like he was floating right out of his chair. "Jeez, kid, that's..." he shook his head. "That's pretty great. I wonder how long you can keep it up."

"It seems to last a while after I stop singing," Noboru answered. "But I don't know if it costs me SP or MP or anything, since I can't see those. I wanted to test it out more, but I didn't want to run out of uses before we got a chance to show you."

"Well, good work. That's a lot of great information." Topher couldn't believe how great he felt. His head was clear for the first time in memory; no low-key buzzing of pain or irritation, no sluggish thoughts, no faint urge to take a nap. This is probably really addictive, observed the distant part of his mind. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore it. "We found out a bunch of stuff too. Hotaka, why don't you fill everybody in while I get things ready."

As the other boy reported the day's events to everyone else, Topher began packing all the supplies that had been slated to be sold by Ichirou -- well, that elf really, I guess -- into the spare bags and backpacks. If they could locate Hideo Oguro tomorrow, then hopefully they could just sell everything and be done with it and maybe have enough gold to stop living like a hippie commune. Topher figured that, even with Takano's crush on Haruko, the B-Ranker's goodwill would only stretch so far; they definitely couldn't count on anyone at the castle helping them beyond what they could be bullied into, and he didn't really want to trust anyone at the castle anyway if he could help it. Without knowing why Ichirou had been targeted, he couldn't discount the possibility that someone was out to get him, too. Oh, and maybe also the kids. Best to play it safe.

When he'd gotten everything ready for travel, he plunked it all down by the door and addressed the group. "Alright, you kids keep an eye on this stuff while I go looking for this Hideo character. I should be back by dinnertime, but if not, well, you know where the rice is." He turned to leave, cinching his bathrobe more tightly around his waist.

"Bailey-sensei, are you sure you don't want some of us to come with you?" Noboru touched his elbow, gently. "There's strength in numbers, after all."

Topher shook his head. "Kid, I don't really have time to explain it to you, but the short version is that I'll be much safer and faster on my own. Just trust me on this." As he'd hoped, Noboru looked glum, but didn't argue. They really do respect the authority of their elders, he marveled. Maybe if I'd been like this towards my Dad, he wouldn't have kicked my ass so much.

Making his way almost cheerfully down the treacherous steps from the loft, Topher found himself almost skipping as he headed out into the town; it was late afternoon, but he should still have lots of time to ask around about Hideo Oguro. He was just starting to wonder if he was going to have time to look for a cheap snack for sale when he left the range of Noboru's aura effect.

Instantly, the weight of every ache and twinge that he'd been protected from crashed down on him like a bucket full of anvils; he almost collapsed, nailed down with a force that felt stronger than Supreme Gravity by the burden of his seeming decrepitude. Get over yourself, he cursed inwardly. It's nothing you aren't used to. Shuffling and hobbling much less energetically, he made his way out into the city and started asking around in the various shops and taverns he could find.

As he expected, most people wanted nothing to do with him; his clothing marked him as an Otherworlder, and his presence outside the castle and general state of dishabille gave away his F-Rank status clearly, as Hotaka had predicted. But he greased a few palms with bronze coins from Cailu's funds and kept at it, and eventually he got an address (which was totally incomprehensible to him) and, more usefully, directions he could actually follow to an office-like building at the corner of what he ended up calling Duck Street and Poop Avenue, after the most prominent features of each (there didn't seem to be street signs). Unfortunately, the office was clearly closed, but a prim little card visible through the window stated that it would be reopening the next morning three hours after sunrise. Topher judged that good enough, and decided to hurry back before his luck ran out; he did, however, splurge on a stack of takeout meals from a food stand. If they were able to sell their stack of scholastic loot to Oguro tomorrow, maybe they could afford the expense tonight (especially if they weren't actually on the hook for rent on the loft). That bastard really was going to just collect rent on a free building, Topher seethed. Almost makes me want to not save him. But, in the end, he couldn't really begrudge Cailu for trying to make a buck; he'd done worse for less out of desperation. If the elf had been in sufficient extremity as to take the risk of impersonating Ichirou, he probably hadn't been in a place to make the best life choices, even if he hadn't known the F-Ranker would be targeted; after all, if he blew his cover, there's no guarantee one of us didn't have a Kill Elves Unique Skill, Topher mused. He put the five meals in a paper sack and scurried back to the loft, doing his best to look pathetic and destitute; it wasn't hard in his current circumstances. He hoped Noboru wouldn't ever find out the real secret of staying safe on the streets: looking like you had nothing worth stealing.

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As he neared the stairs up to the loft, the Chant of Vigor enveloped him again, and he couldn't stop a sigh of relief from erupting from him. Gotta be careful about this, he groused to himself. Get too used to it, and I'll start needing it to function. He could see, all too clearly, a vision of a future Topher Bailey who would sell these annoying brats straight-out for a potion that replicated this effect, and he had no intention of becoming that person. If he could avoid it.

The meal was fantastic, at least in comparison to the things they'd been eating up until now; toasted bread filled with a thick stew and topped with slabs of some sort of bacon-like meat, with crispy baked mushrooms as a sort of side dish. Everyone devoured their food and complained loudly that there hadn't been more (except Haruko, who gave a small part of her portion to Noboru with an expression of pity after the fat boy had rubbed his stomach a little too dramatically). Afterwards, they all lounged about in a sort of post-prandial stupor as the light outside dimmed.

"So," said Topher to Haruko at last, "When do you start at Hogwarts?"

"The day after tomorrow," the young girl replied, looking up through her hair at him a little shyly. "Actually... I have a favor to ask you about it, Bailey-sensei."

Topher, aglow with the twin opiates of food with actual flavor and the euphoria of a pain-free existence, didn't even have the energy to experience trepidation. "Yeah? Whatcha need?"

Haruko looked down at her hands. "I'd... um..." Finally, she looked back up at him. "I have no right to ask this, but... would you be comfortable coming to the magic class with me?" She dropped her gaze again. "I'm... worried about having trouble understanding things."

Topher sighed. "Sure. I don't think for a second that's what's actually bothering you, but I get it. You'd feel safer with me there, right?" Haruko didn't answer, but after a long moment, she nodded. Topher shook his head. "I still don't get why you want so badly to belong to a group that obviously treats you like crap. And I also don't get why anyone would do that. You're a really sweet kid."

Haruko smiled, but it was a smile full of pain. "There are some things, Bailey-sensei, that are difficult to explain." She reached out and gently touched his hand, giving it a short squeeze, before dropping it. "As you said to Noboru-kun, 'just trust me'. I want to do this."

Damn kids, using my shenanigans against me. Growing up too fast. Topher blew his breath out through his nose, but didn't object. "Okay. If that'll make you feel better. I can't promise I can go every time, but definitely at least for this first class. Doubt I'll be much use understanding magic, however." Topher felt about as magical as a gas-station toilet.

"It's enough, Bailey-sensei." Haruko turned and looked out the window at the starry sky, brilliantly bright against the blackness of a sky almost completely devoid of light pollution. "It's enough."

----------------------------------------

To his immense disappointment, Topher found that the analgesic effects of Noboru's Chant of Vigor did not in any way assist him in getting a good night's sleep; the ability washed away his pain, true, but also filled him with a peppy wakefulness that made sleep completely impossible (both for him, and for everyone else). Eventually, he asked Noboru to cancel the effect, and everyone else drifted off into sleep while he resumed his nightly ritual of alternately gasping, groaning, and squirming about for some semblance of comfort. Dawn was a long time coming.

When it did finally arrive, a grouchy and stiff eternity later, Topher was almost wishing for death; but the instant Noboru was awake enough, he activated the ability again, and almost immediately Topher found himself bouncing around the loft, preparing for the day and dishing up rice, carrots, and beets for an eclectic but oddly satisfying breakfast. Arranging the overloaded bags by the door, he began to sketch out the plan with the others.

After some discussion, they arrived at a fairly simple strategy; the four of them would carry all the bags they hoped to sell to Hideo Oguro, and hide the rest here in the loft beneath piles of hay. Topher would meet with the mage alone to work out a deal, then the remaining four would come in and ratify it; if everything went well, they should be booking a hotel by nightfall. They trooped out into the sunlit streets, sticking closely together and avoiding everyone else as much as possible; Topher didn't want any more centaur incidents.

Astonishingly, they reached the mage's office without any difficulty; a rather prim-looking receptionist admitted them, and had them wait in a cozy anteroom while she conveyed Topher's message from Cailu. They didn't have to wait long; in barely any time at all, Topher was being ushered up a narrow staircase towards the door of what looked like a study. Almost the instant that he knocked, the door was wrenched open.

If Ichirou Watanabe had looked lean and hungry, Hideo Oguro looked skeletal and haunted; like Takano, Topher could instantly see that the other man was capable of shocking acts. But where Takano had exuded ruthless indifference, Hideo instead bore the obvious weight of some horrible experience in his past, as well as a clear and present willingness to do whatever it took to avoid repeating it. His eyes were constantly in motion, darting to every corner of the room, and his hands wandered around like spiders while the rest of him remained eerily still. "Rilda told me that you had word from Cailu; if you know his real name, I'm guessing things didn't go according to plan."

Topher grimaced. "You might say that." Keeping the details and speculations to a minimum, he related the elf's predicament and how it had come to occur. "So, since he's a little chained up at the moment, we figured we'd come to deal with you directly. If you're willing, that is."

"Oh, I'm willing." The mage licked his lips in a disturbing manner; Topher noticed with disgust that they were dry and misshapen, as if they were constantly being chewed. "All that stuff from back home sells at a ridiculous markup in my Item Shop, and even gets me discounts on goods from Earth. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a Coca-Cola? I'd sell my grandmother to get my hands on it. I don't care if it comes from you, Cailu, or the Demon King himself."

"Okay, then, let's talk numbers." Topher settled himself in a plush leather armchair and leaned forward; Oguro did the same, his agitated hands constantly prodding and pushing on his face even as he stroked his chin contemplatively. "I figure if we try to cut Cailu out, it'll cause problems for us; so what do you say to a three-way split? A third for you, a third for us, and a third for him, if he ever gets out of the dungeon."

Oguro sneered. "I'm not going out on a limb for an elf, especially an F-Ranker. We'll split fifty-fifty, and you can give Cailu whatever percentage of your cut you feel like he deserves. I don't owe him anything at this point." Topher had to admit that was fair, and moreover, Oguro's opening bid had left him very little room for a counteroffer. It was hard to make a good argument that any split was fairer than fifty-fifty.

Sighing, he signaled the others to come up; Oguro pulled up a large rug to reveal an intricately-carved series of concentric circles on the floor, ringed with runes and glyphs. "Just put everything in here, then get out of the circle," he instructed brusquely. "My Skill tabulates everything and converts it directly to coins, so we just count it all up and split it fair and square. And just in case any of you are thinking about trying anything, keep in mind that I have ways of dealing with people who try to cheat me." He glared at them all with a venom Topher found deeply disproportionate to the situation. "I might be just a D-Ranker, but I'm still worth ten of you F-Rank slugs. Don't try me."

The teenagers all cowered, and even Topher felt intimidated as hell; he gulped down his fear and shook his head. "Easy, pal. Let's make money, not threats." Shockingly, his words seemed to calm Oguro a great deal; he thought he even detected a hint of remorse in the young man's gaze. Muttering something, Oguro started poking at the air in front of him, presumably either casting a spell or doing something to his status window; Topher wasn't sure the two actions were even distinct.

The actual transaction took only seconds; the sixteen bags vanished in a puff of black smoke, and were replaced by sizable mounds of gold coins. Hotaka counted everything up, then invited Oguro to verify his count; the mage did so, and within less than half an hour, everything was sorted. Topher couldn't believe it.

Before anything else could go wrong, he divvied up their haul -- nearly a thousand gold coins -- into five portions, resisting yet again the temptation to take a larger share for himself. I'm not gonna be that guy that steals from kids, he admonished himself. They all took risks too. When everything had been parceled out, Topher paused, then let a smile spread across his face. "Okay, kids. Who wants something from home? I bet Mr. Oguro here would be all to happy to overcharge you for a candy bar or something."

The study instantly dissolved into shouts and cheers; Hotaka got a glasses-cleaning kit and box of tea-bags, while Noboru, to no one's surprise, ordered a king-size sack of assorted sweets nearly the size of a body pillow. Makoto made out like a bandit with a variety pack of beauty products and a Valentine's Day chocolate sampler, and Haruko contented herself with assorted grocery items (chopsticks, refillable water bottles, and other such things -- including a massive pack of sanitary pads). Topher got a five-pound bag of salt, a spice sampler, and a big bottle of ketchup -- they probably have beer here, but they damn sure don't have ketchup -- and the true essentials: a five-pack each of socks and undershirts, a ten-pack of underwear, a pair each of jeans and boots, and a hoodie. He still intended to buy local clothes, but he wasn't going to miss this opportunity either.

He sent the others downstairs to enjoy their treats while he finished up with Oguro; they chatted, more amicably than he'd expected, about Earth and the things they missed. He could tell that some deep thirst in the other man had been slaked, even if only a little, by seeing the kids' joy, and he wasn't above leveraging that to try to build a good relationship with the mage. If he was going to be stuck here in this dumb magic world, being stuck with someone who could order McDonald's transdimensionally was a hell of a lot better than being stuck without that option. A man had to live.

They might have talked the entire day away if given the chance, but eventually there was a knock at the study door and Oguro's secretary intruded. "Great Oguro, your twelve o'clock is here."

"Naungraloth? Send him up. I'll be with him in just a moment." Oguro rose, extending his twitching hand for Topher to shake. "It's been a great pleasure, Mr. Bailey. I hope we'll be able to continue to do business, regardless of whatever fate befalls our mutual friend Cailu."

Topher shook the mage's writhing, sweaty hand with only somewhat feigned enthusiasm. "Looking forward to it." He turned, ready to leave, but the door opened in front of him as he did so, and he was not at all prepared for what came through.

A black cloak, alternately absorbing and reflecting the light with the albedo of a plastic trash bag, filled the doorway, and inside it was a horrible creature that looked like a man-sized lizard that had died two weeks ago and been partially eaten by ants. Its form was vaguely humanoid, but only vaguely; spindly, bony limbs ended in razor-sharp claws, and the bulk of its body squirmed and writhed in a way that made Topher think of a great mass of worms. Its face was scaly and toothsome, with white, shiny eyes devoid of iris or pupil and a snout that looked like a rotted velociraptor's. As Topher met the creature's gaze, it froze; then a great shriek erupted from its maw, and its claws twisted in some arcane gesture. As Topher stumbled backwards in terror, twin bolts of corrosive green energy shot from its foreclaws like angry bees -- aimed directly at his chest.