Goodie suppressed a few choice swearwords as he massaged his aching knee. A year’s work and a shit load of experience sacrificed to [SACRIFICE] just to get it sort of right, all to be ruined by a rich arsehole, with a flower fetish.

Different world, same bullshit. Those who got power, got it, and those who don't, well… fuck 'em.

He let himself slide down the wall he was leaning against and sighed. His eyes travelled up along the reddish brickwork of the building opposite him, eventually stopping once the stars above came into view. A cloudless night. The lack of light pollution left the sky crystal clear for what could be seen of it.

He couldn't go home, not back to Earth, nor to Ms Kolsin's lodge on park view road. Not just because those gobshites might be waiting for him but because he would rather face them than his land lady's wrath for coming in after hours. It wasn't the first time he had to sleep in a dirty alley for fear of the woman a foot shorter than him, and he wasn't tall to begin with. Hopefully, it wouldn't be the last.

Of course, by dirty, he just meant that the alley was covered in dirt, unlike earth where the alleys were covered in…uh…well, it's a good thing cement couldn't get pregnant.

As he waited there in the dark he began to think, and not for the first time he wondered if he had made the right choices, or at least if not the right ones, then the best ones at the time. He knew he had, but that was the joy of being a pessimist. Even when every thing’s perfect, it could always be better.

Coming to this world should have changed things. It had in the obvious way, of course. But he was a geek. he had prepared for this. More as entertainment than anything else but still he should have had an overwhelming advantage in knowledge and strategies. But as usual, better and smarter people had gotten here first.

Pumps? Got 'em. printing press? Which kind? Mayonnaise? Delicious!

"Stop it now," he said while shaking himself. He didn't want to fall into a pity party for one, but things had been going so well.

A year ago, when he first arrived, the old man had told him to do his research before committing to anything, and he had. He went through all of what little the libraries had to offer, not that it actually helped beyond a simple description of the classes and their skill sets, as well as some basic strategies in applying them. Somewhat redundant as the [SYSTEM] already provided most of that. besides, isekai strategy was already laid out in countless manga and light novels, so to repeat a point, he had prepared.

When venturing into a fantasy world, there were five things you had to keep in mind.

Offence Defence Healing Transportation Growth

Whether it be skills, potions, magic items, or whatever else your world had to offer, you had to account for each of them or you would suffer. Which is why he had chosen [SHAMAN] with a specialisation in shadow summoning, or as the system had put it, [SHAMAN OF SHADOWS].

There were many classes that could cover the five, but he had found most of them to be too focused on combat. Not that he, a geek, needed to be told, but the old man and the library had both stressed the importance of being able to defend and stand up for one's self. Still…as a coward, combat went against every instinct in his body. Which is why he ultimately chose to become a [SHAMAN].

Of course, he had considered the usual isekai clichés, but each and every one of them fell flat in terms of potential. Necromancy was a literal death sentence, not just from the various religions but the whole negative energy thing which would drain the life out of them. Enchanters had to literally give parts of themselves to their works, while not a death sentence per se, it would have left him a living husk for what little it gave him in return. The markets were inundated with various sorts of craftsman, both magical and mundane, rendering their value nil and any class that promised to cover multiple skillsets where only strong in the lower levels.

Overall, the shamans were essentially a limited multi-class who sacrificed their ability to summon large armies in order to cast magic, unlike summoners who focused solely on bonding with their companions, shamans could cover multiple roles and the battlefield.

While the library only contained generic information about most classes, as anything truly special was more than likely zealously guarded by people who were too fond of money and pantaloons, it gave enough for him to know that most magic classes gave a teleportation skill within the mid to upper tiers depending on the class, and should he ever be able to bind a dragon he would have number four fully covered. One and two as well, probably.

The combat and defensive possibilities of [SHAMANS], especially those of his chosen speciality, were at best…meh. This was countered by the fact that the starting skills allowed him to overcome several personal problems. Those problems being murder, slavery, an endless cycle of violence, a slow agonising death…so on and so forth in perpetual cowardly stereotype. He was who he was.

Not to say that he was against the murder of others. He was all for the death penalty. Especially for arseshites that screwed up his knee, AGAIN!

"Fucking rich pricks!" he said, while a twang in said knee seemed to endorse his statement.

No, it was the whole summoning thing, the…hey I'm going to enslave you, use you, then toss you away when I find something better or shinier, and if you should die in the process? Well… sucks to be you.

That's where the [SHAMAN OF SHADOWS] differed. The basic properties of the class gave him the ability to create shadow demons, which, despite the name, were not actually demons.

With this ability, he could turn the shadow of a creature, living or dead, into a minion. A creature that could render themselves incorporeal to escape from danger and could use a skill called [SHADOW RUN], that name alone made him the happiest boy in two worlds, which allowed them to dive into the shadows and travel at the speed of darkness. While technically not teleportation, it was basically teleportation.

Hard to catch, hard to kill, and immune to ageing, if the library was to be believed. All of this went a long way to easing his white guilt, freeing him to enslave and exploit hordes of potentially sapient beings with abandon with the caveat that until level ten, said hordes would solely consist of one demon.

Said one was currently wrapped around his neck, threatening to snap it like a twig if he didn't provide more warmth. He reached up and stroked her under the chin while wondering what the hell had ever possessed him to do what he did.

"Oh, right. …the ‘plan’."

When the old man told him about getting a cheat, Goodie did the natural thing by trying to figure out how to use it to attain ultimate power. Of course, as he had only just arrived, he had no clue as to what to actually do and mentally ran around in circles for days.

Eventually, he was let into the library, and what followed was, SPOILER ALERT, a lot of reading. A lot. It was dull, repetitive, and to be honest, he was sure that half the information was intentionally misleading, but in time he found what he was looking for.

[SACRIFICE]

The ability to sacrifice an item or concept within your control in exchange for a gain of equal value.

A skill that would let him grow, the all-important number 5 that would…not…allow him to escape the trap but would allow him more leeway with its restrictions.

That's what Goodie didn't like about game-like fantasies. The obvious set-up. Yes, you had the system that allowed you the illusion to grow at unprecedented speeds, only to then hit a bottle-neck as whatever price it asks for the next level-up becomes too expensive. Then there was the con of classes, the offer of limitless potential, limited to these specific roles. An obvious way to restrict people to select paths while ensuring that they could perform whatever task that this system wanted them for with acceptable proficiency. And then, of course, there's the question about what would happen once the system was taken away?

But Goodie couldn't do anything about any of that, nor would he want to if he could. Pissing off ancient pseudo-deities, spiritual A.I., or whatever was in control was not how you lived a long and fruitful life.

It may have been part of the system, but [SACRIFICE] would allow him to venture outside of the boundaries set by his class and he would use the experience that he would gain in the following weeks to become one of the elites of this realm before he reached level 1. Some warning bells did go off when he later discovered his exact plan was listed in detail within a book of strategies, along with a slew of negatives about the ability.

That upon each sacrifice, one would have to choose from a random selection of options. Making it a glorified form of gambling. That one could only use it with the menu being displayed, making it dangerous in combat or similar situation. And that it was an ability that would test the user's patience, as each time they had to [SACRIFICE] something special, each time they were left behind by those around them, each time the use of the ability dragged them back to the beginning, that those who relied on this ability would either begin to slip by levelling-up, increasing the cost of each use, or they would begin to grow depressed, bitter, and angry at always having to pay for every step forward while others would do little more than live their lives to grow.

The problems with combat was hardly an issue as he fully intended to never be in such a situation, and as for the rest? He was already bitter and angry at being overshot by people who could waltz through life without any effort. That and the teen angst.

It's not as if he chose [SACRIFICE] because it sounded interesting. He researched all the others, considered the viability of each, their impact on his life, and their overall potential. They either lacked the potential for growth or were limited in said potential.

[THIEF] at its highest level only offered a one percent chance of stealing something as important as an attribute point, [RIGHT OF CONQUEST] required the slaying of an enemy that was far more powerful than him, and [LEECH] had been abused to the point that its detection warranted an immediate arrest of anyone who possessed it.

He didn't dive right in like an idiot though. He took his time with more research, not just in the library but finding fellow summonees and asking their opinions. That last part really annoyed him. It wasn't that he hated being social, it was that every time he spoke to someone, here or on earth, the conversations always seemed to be about them, with the few exceptions that he could remember always ending up as a prelude to being asked a favour.

Once he finally settled on [SACRIFICE] he started on the second part of his plan. That’s where Her Majesty came in, he thought while giving her another scratch. That was the whole point about summoning something. You wanted someone else to do your dirty work. The plan being that he would sacrifice his XP for attributes, but his demon would do the earning by farming the vermin within the city. Not humans! The rats in the sewers below.