(Zack)

"Hey, Pervert!" I say as I enter the Trading Post.

"Zacky!"

"If I remove Chef, can you teach me how to be a Certified Assessor?"

"Why?" His entire act drops with that request as shock fills his face.

Something can actually force him to react out of the act when he's got it on? And why does me asking him that shock him so much?

"Just because."

"It's not to punish Samantha's students, is it?" He asks.

"What?" I ask, then remember the game going on. "No. They should be smart enough to not attack a Certified Assessor on the job. I hadn't actually remembered that punishment until you just mentioned it."

"Then why?" He asks.

"Talorn."

"What about it?"

"Once I start hunting in there," I say. "I'm probably going to be facing a lot of Bounty Beasts, and possibly doing multi-day trips there. Being able to directly buy the basics from there would be beneficial, but it's mostly so I can just collect the rewards without having to bother you. I plan on stocking up on supplies here, in case I do any long trips."

"The Trading Post and Dark Temple are pretty far apart."

"So maybe I'd end up stealing your orb for a few minutes when I return?" I offer. "It took us, like, ten minutes to do my full assessment after I wiped out that horde."

"Are you planning on taking on a horde again?"

"I'm stupid, not suicidal."

Jesse sighs, then I kick up and back, my foot slamming into the face of the fifteen-year-old student of Samantha's. He manages to block two punches before my fist connects with his chest, and he groans.

"You guys aren't going to beat me," I say.

"We're going to," he tells me. "We have four more days before the walls turn normal, and two more for the game after."

"Maybe," I say. "But the only way you'll get me is if you do something that will cause me to get very angry. And if you do that, you'll be losing your head."

He pales a little, taking a few steps back. My Demonic Voice leaked out a little, and I reign it back in.

"I'm nearly Level 141," I tell him, and his eyes widen. "I'm a Rank 2 Class. My Perception is over a hundred. I'm surprised none of you actually did your research and looked up the information on me. As fast as you are, I'll know you're coming, and I'll be able to block it. That's why you can't touch me as you use Conceal, dummy."

He frowns, but nods and leaves, and I turn back to Jesse, who raises an eyebrow.

"Isn't it because you can sense their minds?"

"Do you know how many people are aware I can sense the minds of others?"

Jesse nods.

"So?" I say. "Can you?"

He sighs, but nods.

"Dealing with your rampages in Talorn could take up a fair bit of time," he says. "And with more Adventurers going to be moving out here in preparation for the war coming up in a couple of months, having to spend ten or fifteen minutes seeing which Bounty Beasts you killed could be a hassle. That said, you do need to be Level 15 Certified Assessor to check your own rewards."

"Pervert?"

"Yes?"

"Santa Boss."

The normal kill is enough for a hundred Levels to a Class and a Subclass, and the bonus kill that I received doubled it. Then there were the thirty Levels I could already add on to a Subclass from past rewards.

"Right," he say. "You have to pay a fee of a hundred plat, go through a medical exam, and bring Appraisal up to Level 10."

"What about if I piss in your potions?"

"50 gold fee, Level 10 Appraisal, Level 5 Bounty Hunter."

The Level 10 Appraisal makes sense, the 50 gold sort of makes sense, but the last one?

"Level 5 Bounty Hunter?"

"Yes," he responds.

"Seriously?"

"I don't make the rules," he tells me.

"Big S?"

Long story.

"He says it's a long story."

Jesse laughs.

"Damn," I say. "Getting Appraisal to Level 10's gonna take me forever, since it only goes up through repeated use and on things with a decent resistance or at a high enough 'item type' that I can still use it on."

"Good luck," Jesse tells me. "You think you can handle the Bounty Beasts?"

I stare at him, and he just laughs in response to that. I only need one more Bounty Beast killed to hit Level 5 Bounty Hunter. I really do want to know the story behind needing Bounty Hunter Level 5 in order to become a Certified Assessor, though – why does it require that we kill five Bounty Beasts alone?

"If you go into the back," Jesse tells me. "There are some items that should get you from Level 6 to Level 7 – check out the two stacks of shelves on the far wall, furthest to the left."

"Thank you," I say, then vault over the counter and walk to the back.

The back room is just shelves and tables covered in goods, and one of the tables has an alchemy station set up. Jesse's been busy making his own goods while he's bored, hasn't he? I'm betting they're poisons and smokebombs.

He must keep all of his adult creations in his own Inventory, because I can't find any.

I reach the back shelves Jesse told me about, and start using Appraisal on everything on it. It has a wide variety of times, from dinnerware to cutlery to weapons to potions to enchanted stones to resources, and more.

I'm on my third run through them when realization hits, and I look at the pair of shelves to my left, which are pretty sparse with items, almost as if they were emptied out and are being stocked up with the usual, low-level stuff that a Certified Assessor would keep on-hand, just in case.

Frowning, I start using Appraisal on everything that I doubt would be normal stock in here, and confirm that the ten shelves on this back wall are all things that would require Level 6 or higher Appraisal. I can't read anything on it past the two shelves he told me to use.

The two back sets of shelves on the wall to the left… those had things that would require Level 5 Appraisal to see, didn't they? Jesse's stocked his storage up just for me.

They expected me to one day do ask for this, didn't they? Nik wants me to let him know when my Appraisal goes up a Level. I thought it was so he could get an estimate on how soon before I can read him if I'm close enough in Level, but what if it was really so that he could let Jesse know that he could clear off two sets of shelving?

I return to using Appraisal on the wide variety of items, managing to bring it up to Level 7 on the fourth pass, and to verify, I check the other shelves on the back wall. The fact that the two to the right of the Level 6-required items contain items I can read confirms it.

Finished with reaching Level 7 for the day, I head to the front, thank Jesse for the use of the stuff, then vault back over the counter and leave, promptly taking down another apprentice assassin before making my way to the local restaurant for dinner.

Gold'll probably make food still, but that's fine, as I'll probably still be hungry when I get there. I'm seated quickly, and a few minutes after I start eating, Kylie shows up in the restaurant. Spotting me, she comes over.

"Hey," she says. "Mistress told me you found your friend."

"Yeah," I answer. "It turns out that he'd gone out of the City, and was having a hard time getting back in. We made up."

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Um, sure," I say, and she smiles at me, taking a seat. "Why were you wandering the streets last night?"

Her face immediately turns to confusion, and she even shakes her head and moves it back in that short, jerky motion that some people do when surprised by something.

"How'd you know?"

"You remember that breeze you felt?" I ask, and she nods.

I stare at her. It takes her six and a half seconds for realization to hit.

"That was you?"

"Yes."

"There was a blur, but that was it!" She says. "I wasn't sure what had happened, and thought maybe I'd imagined that! If you're that fast, we're never going to win."

"There's one way to win," I tell her, and she raises an eyebrow. "Use someone I like as a hostage. If the five of you teamed up, you could probably do it. I care about Gold very much, as he's the second friend I've ever had. If his safety is threatened, it'd be easy to win against me. As assassins, none of you should have not thought about that."

"Um, yeah," she blushes a little. "We're taught to assassinate monsters, not people. The human assassins are different."

"Maybe," I shrug. "Though there's one little problem with going after Gold so you can beat me in this game."

"What is it?"

"I'd no longer see it as a game."

The tone of my voice, the low growl in my throat, something about what I said had an effect. A strong one. Not only did Kylie flinch backwards and turn pale, but the entire room went silent.

I take a shaky breath, then let it out. I didn't mean to scare her, but I can't stand the thought of Gold being hurt. I really wish I had the power to kill the Nian, to make it suffer for hurting him. Just thinking about not being able to infuriates me. I've already lost one friend, I can't lose another.

"Sorry," I force a smile. "So! What were you doing last night?"

She takes a few moments to collect herself, then blushes.

"I was looking for Gold," she admits.

"In the middle of the night?" I ask. "Why were you looking for him?"

"I, um," she blushes deeper and looks down at the table. "I dunno."

She's lying. I press with my thoughts, and manage to figure out that she was doing it because she hoped it'd let us be friends. She thinks I'm cute.

My face heats up when I realize that, and I quickly look down at my food. A girl who likes me. If I were still back in reality, that'd be nothing more than a fantasy. I don't… I dunno how to react to this.

We both eat without really talking anymore, and as soon as I finish, I throw some money onto the table and leave, hastily heading home, where Gold's cooking one of my hams. He gives me a curious – and guilty – look, but doesn't want to ask why I was moving so fast.

After dinner, Gold does the dishes, then shifts around a bit in the entryway to where we've been sleeping, watching me practice my martial arts. Is it because I'm in my usual practice attire?

Thinking about him crushing on me leads me back to Kylie liking me, and I feel my face flush again, so I start pushing myself harder until I catch a specific thought sequence from Gold, realizing why he's shifting around like that.

"Come here, Gold," I say, and he tilts his head, but walks over. I hold out my hands, and a pair of wooden training swords appear, dropping out of my Inventory onto them. "Bryce and I trained with these. Take one."

He does, and I take a few steps back.

"Stop me from hitting you," I say, and he nods, holding up his sword.

I don't hit him hard, but I'm not light, either. He knows I'm keeping in mind what he can do as I do this. He's very hesitant to use the sword, especially against me, his twice-savior, but he wants to be able to at least defend himself and protect himself. Being chased by the Nian has really scared him, and he knows that even if he's no plans on ever leaving the Cities during the Crimson City Walls again, he might still need to fight at some point, as much as he doesn't want to.

It takes about an hour before he manages to actually strike my sword. He's watching my form, learning quickly. Once I notice a sudden improvement in his ability to defend against me, I give us a break.

"Congratulations," I tell him, and he beams at me. "You learn fast, Gold, which is helpful. You also watch your opponent, which helps you grow. That's good. Keep it up, and I'm sure you'll be a master in no time."

He beams at me again, his tail wagging in his happiness. Those were things my own mentor said to me, and the martial arts instructors I learned from back in reality. I learned quickly, and it was sped up because I watched and analyzed my opponents and instructors, learning what they did almost as if by sight.

Gold and I wash up and head to bed, and when morning comes, I teach him a bit more with the sword, then a little of martial arts. He learns that even faster, though I'm sure he already had some experience, based on his thoughts.

The Beastborn happily prepares dinner for us, making a feast for the new year, doing his best to try not to let me know that he hopes he can taste the champagne again. When it's time for dinner, I pull out another bottle, but make sure he doesn't drink too much, only a glass of it.

After settling him down and putting him to bed, I jump up onto the roof of my home and watch the sky, lying down in the thick snow that still covers the top of my home. Back in reality, there would be fireworks, and my family would be having a party with a bunch of their associates.

I take a swig from the bottle every now and then, letting the warmth fill me. I learned long ago that I couldn't even get affected unless it was by something really strong, and in a decent quantity. Father said I probably got my tolerance from Mother, because she could handle quite a bit more than him.

I can handle more than her. Now that I know that I'm a literal demigod whose true father is existence itself, I know why I never seem to get drunk and can handle so much alcohol.

Closing my eyes as midnight hits, the last thoughts I have before drifting off to sleep are about how Mother met my real father, and what Father thought when she turned up pregnant with someone else's kid. They'd never told me.

A man stalks the night, his stride slow, steady, and predatory, his dark blue eyes fixed firmly ahead, not bothering to look around as he passes through the alley. A man in ragged clothes jumps the brown-haired man, only to find himself… gone. Simply erased from existence.

The strange man continues to walk, until he reaches a dumpster. When he reaches it, the dumpster moves to the side, revealing a blond-haired woman with brown eyes, who looks up at the finely-dressed figure with fear in her eyes.

The woman is dressed skimpily, revealing the fine figure and intentional appeal of her body. A hooker?

"Hello," he smiles down at the woman. "You look like you could use a good place to sleep tonight."

"Tell Benny-"

The man holds up a hand, and the woman's voice ceases as I stare at her through the dream with confusion. That voice was, unmistakably, my mother's. Looking at her now, I realize that, if I were to put her in fine clothes or a nice dress, clean the makeup from her, maybe give her a light touching-up, and she'd be my mother. Well, adding on probably thirteen or fourteen years as well, but still. She'd be in her late teens at this point, maybe twenty, at most.

"I do not work for him," the figure tells her. "Benny is no issue, not anymore. Why don't you walk with me? One night is all I ask, and you'll have a warm place to sleep tonight. You won't have to do anything you don't want to."

The woman swallows, but nods, and she stands. He leads her to a hotel, where they spend the night together, and when morning comes, she's leaving the hotel when she bumps into another man, who is around seventeen or eighteen. He's dressed in a fine suit – worth probably at least ten grand – with his blond hair styled well, his brown eyes frowning at her. I'd put him around maybe sixteen or seventeen.

"My-my apologies," she stammers as the other figure watches, a light smile on his lips. "I-I-I didn't, I-"

"How old are you?" He asks.

"Eighteen," she answers.

"And you're a hooker?" He asks.

"If-if you want me to-in-in exchange for-"

"No," he holds up a hand. "My father taught me better than to use cheap women. It was probably fate that brought us together, though. If you wish to leave the life, then call this number tonight. Mention that I told you to."

He holds out a business card, and she takes it with shaky hands, and he starts to leave.

"What's your name?" She asks.

"Michael Noruva," he answers without breaking his stride, reaching the expensive car pulled to the curb and saying a few short words to the driver, who opens the door and lets him into the back.