Ozzy spent his second ten-day week in Last Flag much as he had the first one. He mainly partook in people watching and eavesdropping, with the occasional visit to the library every few days to brush up on interesting topics he’d caught wind of. He also discovered a new source of publicly available information in the form of newspapers and tabloids, which he was able to fully utilize with the help of his newly improved reading skills. He particularly kept an eye out for anything that might earn him a whole lot of renown in no time flat, thereby allowing his teammates to find him with greater ease. His efforts paid off, and he discovered there were two ways he could make a name for himself.

The first one was an annual event called the Ostorian Grand Prix. According to an article in the bi-weekly Gilded Gentlegob Gazette, it was an international cross-continental automobile race that covered a staggering distance of twelve hundred and forty kilometers. The winner of this prestigious event would earn an enormous cash prize and have their face and likeness spread throughout the world. This was a huge opportunity for Ozzy. If he could claim victory in the Grand Prix, it would surely not be long before he saw his friends again. The money would be a welcome boon as well, given that the druid was unemployed and therefore had no income.

Unfortunately, there were several major hurdles he’d have to cross before he could participate in the Grand Prix. To begin with, he had to get a fast car that was also durable enough to make that journey without breaking down. Then he’d need to learn to actually drive it well enough to compete. Thirdly, he required a teammate to take care of navigation on top of taking over the wheel whenever the main driver slept. If Ozzy managed to settle all of that, he’d still need to earn a spot in the Grand Prix by placing in the top three in a preliminary race. This qualifier was scheduled to be held two months from now, which was also two weeks before the main event.

There was a lot Ozzy would need to get done before he even got a shot at that first place prize. On one hand, he had plenty of time to figure things out. Two months was eighty days, after all. However, that lengthy period was both a blessing and a curse. The druid’s ultimate goal was to return to his home world and put a stop to that lich before his undead legions razed everything to the ground. While he already accepted that there was no quick and easy way to do that, aiming for the Ostorian Grand Prix would take over a hundred days. He’d then need to wait around twenty to thirty more for the news to cross the world via telegraphs and ships, and then even longer for his teammates to make the journey to him. He was looking at half a year just to have a shot at reuniting with the Quartet, to say nothing of actually working out a way to reverse Mezzo’s spell. Even if that long-shot worked out, the delay would be enormous.

Thankfully that wasn’t the druid’s only option. The other potential route to fame and fortune was both quicker and more his style, although also riskier and less reliable. Ozzy could sign up with the Ostorian League of Explorers, commonly referred to as the League. The people this organization employed were, predictably, called explorers, and they were, essentially, this world’s equivalent of adventurers. There were some notable differences, of course. Explorers primarily concerned themselves with surveying uncharted areas and archeological digs rather than performing tasks for people of interest with enough coin. They were also far better organized and regulated than pseudo-mercenaries like Ozzy and his friends.

Yet the druid had no doubt he’d fit right in with the League. Both explorers and adventurers had to brave the unknown in search of valuable resources and ancient secrets, all while dealing with dangerous creatures and harsh environments. Though they had some differences, and significant ones at that, at their core the two professions were remarkably similar. More importantly, explorers seemed to be something akin to heroes to the common populace, especially among the youngsters. This popularity was due in no small part to the League’s self-promotion through a monthly journal called Explorer’s Digest. This magazine highlighted and venerated the exploits of its members while also ranking them in terms of popularity and ability.

That all sounded well and good, but it was important to keep in mind that competition for the top ten spots was fierce. An explorer had to be effective, active, and appealing in order to be considered among the League’s elite. This was another thing this profession had in common with adventurers. Ozzy had learned time and time again that a party’s reputation was often more important than their exploits when it came to being hired or not. As such even the Chuckle-nut Quartet had to maintain a favorable public image, though that mostly boiled down to buying the occasional round of drinks and generally not being dicks. The druid imagined explorers had to be a lot more diligent in that respect, given how quickly and widely information spread in this world.

As for joining the League, that part seemed straightforward enough since the Explorer’s Digest also served as a recruitment tool. The latest issue had three full-page advertisements that promised excitement, fame, fortune, or some combination thereof to anyone brave enough to venture into the darkest corners of the land. Attached to this promotional material were a series of addresses pointing to League branch offices across the country and beyond. There was one right here in Last Flag, so all Ozzy had to do was show up and pass whatever screening process they had.

The druid decided this was to be his next move. Ideally he’d join up, hit a big break, and then soar to the top of the rankings like an eagle with its ass on fire. He’d also have the opportunity to make some connections that might prove useful beyond the Quartet’s reunion. Even if none of that happened he’d at the very least earn enough money to stop worrying about his ever-dwindling funds. He stood to gain much with nothing to lose but time he was already wasting, so there was no reason not to try.

He didn’t just head to the League’s recruitment office right away though. The Digest had a section with required reading for aspiring explorers. A more discerning eye might have noticed they were just shilling their own merchandise, but Ozzy took that list at face value. He also knew the perfect place where he might find all those materials at the very reasonable price of nothing. He still found it incredible that the Last Flag Public Library offered its services and resources absolutely free of charge, barring late fees or fines for damaging the books. Any expenses incurred by the library’s operations and all of its employees’ salaries were paid for by the state. Such generosity was a prime example of New Ostor’s commendable dedication to spreading knowledge and enlightenment among its people, and Ozzy would be taking full advantage of it yet again.

Technically, the druid wasn’t exactly entitled to the library’s services since he wasn’t a tax-paying citizen, but such details eluded his notice for the moment. Nor would this knowledge have stopped him.

“Good morning, Eva,” he quietly greeted the head librarian.

“Well. Good morning yourself, Ozzy,” she reciprocated. “What’ll it be today?”

The woman was, as per usual, busy reshelving yesterday’s returned books, though attending to her new favorite visitor obviously took precedence over the menial task.

“I’d like to see Dangerous Beasts and How to Kill Them by Jonathan Orwell, The Pitfalls of Unlicensed Delving by Enrique- Is there a problem, Eva?”

He couldn’t help but notice the bespectacled brunette’s smile had disappeared while he was still in the middle of naming the second book. It struck him as odd as he didn’t think her capable of reacting negatively to a literary title.

“Yes, a slight one. You won’t find any of that Explorer’s Digest tripe in these fine halls.”

“Oh… I gather you personally disapprove of them.”

“Quite so. They’re authored - and I use that term loosely - by attention-seeking man-children that care little for the factual accuracy of their work.”

“I see. So that’s why you don’t have them.”

“That’s not quite it, actually. We did carry them at one point, but the League said we were cutting into their profits and threatened to sue the library if we didn’t stop. So, we did.”

Ozzy just nodded to show he understood. It wasn’t unusual for larger and more influential organizations to strong-arm smaller ones into getting their way. Still, hearing that something like that had happened to this beacon of knowledge and learning irked him a fair bit. The strong triumphed over the weak, that much was nature’s way, but this particular instance sounded like little more than bullying. Like a lion chasing vultures away from its days-old kill for no other reason than to deny them their share of carrion, which most would agree was a dick move.

“Now,” Eva’s smile resurfaced, “if you want objective alternatives published by respected scholars and institutions, then I’d be more than happy to help.”

“Yes, please, and thank you.”

The librarian put down the pile of books she was already carrying and guided Ozzy through the maze of shelves, picking out and handing him the relevant tomes as they went. This was more or less a routine by this point, though the druid never ceased to be amazed at how Miss Applebee seemed to know all of the books’ locations by heart. He also wasn’t quite sure when they switched to a first-name basis, though he wasn’t going to complain. He forgot to correct her pronunciation of his family name back when they first met and she’d been saying it slightly wrong ever since, but the man found it strangely difficult to clear that up. On the upside, he’d gained a better understanding of Benjamin’s issue with that ogre-like surgeon that thought his name was Billy.

“I take it you’re thinking about signing up to be an explorer?” Eva casually asked while they searched the aisles.

“Mhm.”

“Mind if I ask why?”

“Well, I need a new job and I already have a lot of experience exploring forests and hunting wild animals where I grew up. Figured it was a good fit.”

“Weren’t you from North Wellington, though?” she raised an eyebrow.

“I was born there, yes, but my parents raised me in a quiet little mountain village you’ve definitely never heard of.”

It was a good thing Ozzy had prepared that little white lie ahead of time. It was much easier to remember than inventing a whole new childhood. That and, according to his research, North Wellington was a peaceful little town where absolutely nothing exciting happened. Nobody would believe the towering beast of a man had come from such a place.

“Ahhh,” she exclaimed. “No wonder why you’re so manly. You won’t find fine muscles like that on a city boy.”

“Heh. So I’ve noticed,” he took the compliment with a chuckle.

“Still, if you’re even as half as strong as you look, then you’ll ace the physical exam. And given how much you’ve been visiting lately, I doubt you’ll struggle on the written test, either. Just nail the interview and you’ll be an explorer in no time flat.”

“You… sure seem to know a lot about the League.”

None of the materials Ozzy had seen outlined exactly what the criteria for joining were. He knew there was some sort of test involved, but had no idea it was a three-parter.

“Well, I ought to. I’m actually a member,” she smirked over her shoulder.

“Really?” the druid raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

If this was Einhan, he’d never presume a woman like Eva was frail and helpless when it came to braving the wilderness. Or at least not since he first met Cassie. The way she casually tossed the man that was twice her size around with a flick of her wrist was… humbling. However, this wasn’t Einhan, and without magic to back her up a delicate flower like Eva would surely not last long out there.

“Don’t take me the wrong way, but you don’t strike me as the, uh, outdoorsy type.”

“There’s a lot of things about me that would surprise you.”

“Oh, I think I have you beat there,” he retorted cryptically.

“We’ll see about that.”

Eva continued navigating the aisles while Ozzy followed behind.

“Ah, here we are,” the woman reached her destination. “Julius Applebee’s Catalogue of Ostorian Fauna, Fifth Edition. And before you ask - no, I’ve no relation to the author.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” he took the volume from her.

“Well, then. Unless there’s something else I can help you with, I really should get back to work.”

“I’m good. As per usual, thanks for all your help.”

“Anytime, Ozzy.”

The two parted ways and the druid somewhat reluctantly hit the books. Thankfully Eva’s version of the League’s required reading list was both lighter and easier to understand than those hefty volumes on history. He practically tore through the Bestiary of Hazardous Wildlife in record time. There were a number of creatures he had never seen nor heard of before, but most of this land’s animals were familiar to him. As he suspected, none of the magical beasts he knew of were present in this reality, although a fair chunk of them were mentioned in folklore, legends, and various works of fiction.

The druid briefly wondered if others from Einhan had been stranded here in the long-forgotten past and brought the knowledge of such creatures with them, among other things. Such an event would explain a lot of these coincidences, but the complete and total lack of dragons in Ostorian mythology implied this wasn’t the case. It was ludicrous to think anyone from his homeland would spread tales of griffins, harpies, and unicorns without a single mention of the most powerful and gifted of magical creatures. The closest thing this world had to dragons was a long-extinct species of enormous lizard called the tyrannosaurus rex. Oddly enough, Ozzy was familiar with this one. Granted, the ones in his home were called scaled tyrants, but the written description of this ‘T-rex’ left no doubt they were one and the same. The man considered himself something of an expert on these ancient monsters. He’d never actually seen one since the scaled tyrants of Einhar had all died out long before he was born, but he nevertheless used to be able to transform into one, back when he had access to all his magic.

The rest of the required reading was even easier to digest. It covered a number of tips, tricks, and practices related to hunting, survival, cave-diving, and dungeoneering. All of that was old hat to a veteran adventurer like Ozzy. Admittedly, the last two were referred to as ‘spelunking’ and ‘delving,’ but those were just different names for the same activities. None of the information in these books was particularly new to him, but the druid didn’t pass on the opportunity to brush up on the basics. All in all he was done skimming through the materials at around noon. He dropped the books off at Eva’s desk, then set out into the city.

Ozzy wasted no time and had a taxi driver bring him straight to the League’s local office. Waiting for the cab to weave its way through traffic made the passenger’s thoughts drift towards Benjamin. He felt as if he should check on the kind-hearted youngster in case Rizby’s goons were mad at him for helping the dying druid on that fateful night. Ozzy had a feeling that the goblin pawnbroker was professional enough to keep those orcs in check, but it couldn’t hurt to confirm after he was done signing up. Until then, the man made sure to clear his mind of all distractions as he climbed out of the cab and walked those last few steps to his destination.

The Last Flag branch of the Ostorian League of Explorers was remarkably normal. The place wasn’t even remotely as fancy as The Partisan Hotel, nor was it some run-down shack in an alleyway. It was a four-story building that was perfectly average for this midtown area of the city. The only impressive thing about it was that a single business owned the whole thing. Well, that and the impractically huge metal logo hanging above the entrance. It was a stylized blue circle meant to represent this planet, with the words ‘Ostorian League of Explorers’ stretched across the orbit of its only moon. Their branding was on point, if nothing else.

The interior had the same feel of ‘bland, but serviceable’ feel to it as the exterior. Though that appealed to Ozzy’s utilitarian upbringing, he understood how some might expect something flashier. The stranger on the sofa to his left certainly didn’t seem impressed with the decor. The entrance lobby stretched out for only a dozen paces or so before it came to an abrupt end at the receptionist’s desk, with hallways leading to the left and right on either side of it. The receptionist herself was a decently attractive woman in a prim and proper uniform as was the norm. It was a huge contrast to the exposed leg and cleavage of Eva’s usual dress. Why, if the two of them were to be put side by side the librarian would appear downright indecent, though that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing in Ozzy’s opinion.

The druid shook the brainy brunette from his mind as he stepped up to the front desk.

“Good day, sir,” the receptionist greeted him with a polite yet forced smile.

“Good day,” he curtly nodded. “I would like to join the League.”

“Of course, sir. To begin with, please fill out this form.”

The document he was handed was asking for some basic personal information, nothing to really think about. Ozzy retrieved a pencil from the breast pocket of his vest, leaned over the piece of paper, and started filling it in on the spot. This had the side effect of suddenly shortening the physical distance between his head and the receptionist’s.

“Eep!”

The girl couldn’t help but jump slightly in her seat with a light squeal. The way the towering druid’s entire upper body lurched forward made her feel as if a tree was falling on her or something. She calmed down when she realized this wasn’t actually the case, but the close proximity between them still made her feel uncomfortable. She desperately wanted to ask the applicant to use the seating and coffee tables near the lobby’s entrance, but the words got stuck in her throat. She felt intimidated by Ozzy’s towering physique looming over her desk, and the cold expression on his face wasn’t helping.

The man wasn’t trying to actually scare anyone, and in fact did everything he could to avoid doing so. However, this was the first time he’d ever applied to anything in such a strict and official manner. For a man whose idea of forming a contract was giving his word and maybe a firm shaking of hands, this application process made him tense up something fierce. He was so focused on making sure he got all his information right that he didn’t even notice the poor receptionist girl was fidgeting in her seat. Thankfully he had elevated his disastrously low level of personal hygiene and grooming to match this world’s sensibilities. He wasn’t about to shave or get a haircut, but he made sure his golden mane was well-kept and that his body odor was as inoffensive as possible. If he walked in here like he’d just lost a battle with a lich, the bewildered receptionist might’ve been tempted to call for security instead of just awkwardly leaning back against her seat.

This odd stand-off lasted for a full minute before Ozzy finally noticed the employee’s discomfort and wordlessly shuffled to the corner of the desk, giving her some much needed space.

“All done. Here you are,” he handed her the document a short while later.

“Uh, thank you,” the receptionist made an admirable recovery.

“And sorry about my messy handwriting. I hope it’s not too bad.”

It had improved a little with all the note-taking he’d been doing recently, but it was still barely legible.

“It won’t be an issue, sir,” she reassured him. “Please take a seat while we run this by the head office. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes or so.”

“Alright.”

Ozzy went over to the cushioned sofa and planted his butt firmly in the middle. The piece of furniture creaked ominously under his weight, but held its own. The other applicant at the far end of it didn’t fare as well. The rather scrawny fellow was even more intimidated by the towering foreigner than the receptionist. He was sweating profusely and slowly sliding along the sofa, desperate to put that tiny bit of extra distance between them. It was as if he was worried that the big scary dude would reach over and casually snap his neck like a twig just because he breathed too hard or something. The druid noticed the man’s discomfort almost immediately, but again paid it little heed. He’d been getting similar reactions since he first got here, so he was already used to such behavior.

The man let his mind wander for several minutes before it wheeled back around to a worrisome realization. Ozzy hadn’t really paid much attention to the receptionist’s words at first and was thus slow to notice their potentially catastrophic implications. Judging by the sound of it, the League was currently running a check on the information he had provided, including his forged ID card’s serial number. The druid started sweating almost as badly as the fellow next to him. Forget being denied membership, the League might just call the police on him. Ozzy hadn’t checked but it was safe to assume that having a fake identity was illegal, and determining his as such would be neither difficult nor time consuming. After all, this world had a thing called a telegraph - a device that could instantly relay information across huge distances via magic wires. Okay, it wasn’t literally magic, but it might as well have been from the man’s more primitive perspective. The important part was that the people here would have no trouble relaying his ID number to the relevant authorities in New Ostor’s capital in a matter of minutes, and would get a response just as quickly.

“Excuse me, Mr. Stigandr?”

Ozzy was just about to flee for fear of being ousted when the receptionist called out to him. It didn’t seem like she was angry or suspicious of him, so he did his best to curb his nervousness as he went over.

“Yes?”

“Everything appears to be in order. The next step is for you to attend one of our evaluations. We have one scheduled for Triday next week at nine in the morning. Should I pencil you in?”

“Uh…”

Ozzy glanced at the calendar on the wall in a dumb stupor. It was currently Sepday, the seventh day of the week and the last workday before most businesses closed down for the weekend. They’d resume on Monday, and Triday was two days after that, which meant the exam was six days from now. Even if he was still adapting to this society’s timetable, the druid wouldn’t have usually struggled to perform such simple arithmetic. However, he was still flabbergasted that his forged documentation had apparently passed inspection.

“Sir?”

“Oh, sorry. Yes, Triday at nine is fine.”

Perhaps the premium price he spent on this resin-covered piece of cardboard was worth it after all.