Oblivious to the tremors propagating throughout the wide world, Carl was happily back in action.

He didn't really care for his newfound fame. It had its advantages, but those inescapably came in pair with drawbacks, balancing each other out. Besides, an abrupt rise to prominence and just as swift a fall form it was the daily norm in the ever-changing landscape of virtual reality gaming, due to entertainment being inherently subject to rapid evolution. Whenever a lucky nonentity made a break, they would usually milk it for all they could, before the whole scene readjusted and assimilated them together with their momentary accomplishment. It was a wave that had to be skillfully ridden if one wanted to stay on top of it, and very few could pull it off.

This was never Carl's goal, though. If it came – so be it. If it didn't – so what? The opinions of others meant nothing to him, because the vain would always skew the facts, while the humble would prudently exercise caution. All that mattered was to invariably stick to the Truth.

And right now this meant fighting his heart out!

Despite his regeneration after drinking a great mana potion dropping to 85/s, the expert-level Last Hurrah and Champion's Conviction became so energy-efficient, and his familiarity with both the skills as well as with the dungeon so profound, that Carl felt like he had achieved a new breakthrough in refining his style. Sure, he was yet a beginner, but the decrease to difficulty was palpable, allowing him to assassinate the next horrid wolf without suspense, and then it was smooth sailing to dominate the prowlers.

He had learned some painful lessons, but it was something he had accounted for, as trial and error had just turned a viable training tool, to be sporadically applied in favorable conditions and serve as a platform for experimentation. All courtesy of Last Hurrah, which provided sensational means of crisis recovery, granting Carl up to 20 additional points of strength together with unreal acceleration for a fraction of a second.

This, however, uncovered some underlying challenges.

For one, the player couldn't just increase their mana output on a whim and heedlessly discharge their entire capacity to amplify a spell to its maximum – it had to be done methodically and fluently. Meanwhile, the more power one wielded, the harder it was to maintain a reliable grasp on it. Since magic was perceived as an extra appendage, it required focus to manipulate, that is the player's innate perception filtered through the avatar's perception attribute. The more power summoned, the more multitasking involved, especially for skills that combined magic with motor coordination. And like Attractive Ion had previously noticed, a bad execution could lead to backlash and injury, which in the heat of battle signified imminent death.

Two, it came with risks to an unaccustomed body, which was ill suited to handling excessive physical forces – and tripling the strength was definitely encroaching on the danger zone. One wrong lever, and a bone or a joint could easily snap. It was thus paramount to gradually gain experience and develop keen intuition.

Three, a perfect rhythm was vital to stay safe. It boiled down to mana management, to always floating sufficient reserves for emergency maneuvers. In order to sustain a steady flow that neither wasted mana regeneration nor overly depleted it, one had to be extremely flexible and adapt to the battle dynamics, because sometimes there wasn't any new enemy at hand, and sometimes there were multiple. The basic tier of mastery would naturally be implementing other support skills in between, and avoiding – or swiftly dispersing – large clusters of foes.

But Carl was after the true mastery – creating opportunities where there were none, and imposing his preferred tempo!

Although it would take him a lot more effort to become an adept of this art, he was already on the right track, and the black wolves' den was just the ideal place for him to practice. Deep down in his subconscious, he was no longer intimidated by the prospects of trip-ups and random complications, confident he could salvage such situations without succumbing to the throng of vicious lupines. Plus, he now had unrestrained access to Beatific Restoration, which further bolstered his tenacity.

All in all, his spirit soared to the clouds, alleviating any mental burdens he had at this point. Hence, he tackled the grind energetically, with great fervor and a sunny – albeit bloodied – countenance.

“Hey Toothy, how are your legs holding up?” Carl asked while looting diligently, mindful of his surroundings and the five wards under his protection, eyed angrily by the distant black wolves.

“Haha, nothing to worry about, Master Lionheart, with how well you're feeding me, I can keep going until night comes!”

Theodore was likewise delighted. On the runs with immortals, he would normally be able to skin up to 15 prowlers before Carl recovered his stamina fully after the fight, and up to 25 on the runs with natives, where Carl lingered deliberately.

That averaged him almost 4 gold per run!

After a lifetime of shabby, unsteady income, he was now a wealthy tycoon, admired and envied by everyone he knew!

He was also eating and drinking like a king to boot!

What a blessing that was!

Could he had even wished for better treatment? No, he would not rest. He would muster all the strength he had, and continue for as long as it took! After all, the entire burden was on his benefactor, while he was merely a spectator. This was the least he could contribute.

“Mhm, we will do just that,” Carl acknowledged. “In the meantime, can you tell me what you think of Lissome Shot's tracking abilities?”

“Well … I'm a poor teacher, hehe. I've tried explaining some stuff to Madam Shot yesterday, and I gave her some tips, but I would really have to show it to make my point. I'm not good with words, Master Lionheart. And she … has a long way ahead of her.”

“Yes, I realize that. And I also need you round the clock, so she wouldn't get many chances, anyway. That's why I want to find her a dedicated coach. Do you perhaps know of any professional teachers, instructors or trainers? Or maybe other expert trackers that would be willing to join her team?”

“Of course! There's plenty of good trackers in and around Geneva, much better than me, one just needs to know where to look,” Theodore admitted humbly. “Though they're not the adventuring types, as far as I know. Instead of a slaughter, they prefer to enjoy their hunts in peace and quiet … err … no offense, Master Lionheart …”

“Heh, that's understandable. Tell me about the very best one.”

“Oh, that would definitely be old Grandpa Celero,” Toothy stated exuberantly. “I was lucky to learn the trade from him. He's a genuine venator master, and he possesses incredible wisdom and instincts. Only he's somewhat frail now due to his age, holed up in his log cabin in the nearby forest like a hermit, so he won't be helping anyone with wolves I'm afraid. But if it's just tutelage, then it's a different story. He always loved teaching talented youngsters, and I can recommend Madam Shot to him as well. If I mention you on top of that, there's no way he'll refuse, Master Lionheart!”

Carl smirked with satisfaction. This was probably an open-world encounter offering a tough quest to curry the favor of an elusive master instructor – and only if one utilized a cautious and respectful approach, so as not to offend the eccentric personage. Meanwhile, he had just circumvented it altogether!

On the return trip, Carl immediately proceeded to relay the excellent news to Fleeting Time and Amaranthine Bushido, in order to book the funds and plan ahead. The moment he opened his friend list, however, his communicator rang, startling him completely. That's because it wasn't the regular internal call he was used to … but a real-life call routed to his VR helmet.

He sighed exasperatedly.

“Hello, Mr Burri …”

“Carl, I'm on my way back home, and I thought I'd come around, see how you're doing.”

Carl balked. Was this guy for real?! He had only been two days out of school, and this overzealous court officer was on his case already?!

“There's no need, Mr Burri. I know you worry about me, but I'm doing fine on my own,” he asserted, his tone carrying a hint of Charles Lionheart's overbearing authority. “I don't want to live on alms any more, and I've found the perfect solution to that. Soon, you'll be free to cancel my social welfare, and I'll even be able to repay the state for all the support it has given me.”

His interlocutor exhaled deeply.

“Carl … this isn't a stable career path, you know that,” he convinced paternally.

“I'm a pro, Mr Burri. Yes, there are ups and downs, but my current income is too good to pass up. It will allow me to speedily accumulate a secure investment capital, and with it I won't have to fear any dry spell.”

“Didn't Ethereal Empire collapse? What game are you playing?”

Carl was thoroughly annoyed. What a nosy dude!

“A new RCE. And I've just started a war, so I can't go to school for a few days. I'll try to make it on Monday. No promises, though.”

“A war? What exactly–”

“I'm sorry, Mr Burri, but I'm in the game right now, and this isn't a convenient time. I was about to coordinate my forces when you called.”

“So you're some bigshot, huh? Well, good for you. Give me a call when it is a convenient time, I still want to visit you for a community interview,” the man replied with a tinge of irritation, then hanged up.

What a bother! Carl wished he could just refuse the request, but being a minor in a world run by adults was very problematic. Alas, this conversation had brought yet another troublesome matter to his attention – real-life funds, which he was very much short on, and in dire need of, considering his deteriorating health.

Only … how would he withdraw them covertly? He had merely sold his Ethereal Empire account through a fortuitous contact, nothing more, and the buyer re-registered it afterwards, making it a clean transaction. In actuality, Carl had no experience with black markets whatsoever.

Strictly speaking, it would be an illegal operation so long as it was conducted outside of the official channels, and the stigma around it was severe. One had to also be very careful to avoid getting tangled into a shady exchange, and particularly getting scammed. After all, the gray area was full of con artists.

But it had to be done. There was no telling if and when Carl would be discovered, cutting him off from this wondrous lifeline that was Immortal Frontier. He had to set up a contingency, a solid reserve, which could be transferred to him anonymously should he get locked out of the game.

This, however … was no small deal. Even if Carl ceded an appropriate share for charitable causes to have a clear conscience, he could only do so in secret, and the blind law would still persecute both him and anyone who purchased his gold for tax evasion.

“Gah! None of this would be an issue if those presumptuous ignoramuses just gave me full legal capacity like I asked! Ehh … guess I'll have to set up some encrypted calls with the guys, see what options there are …”

Carl once more opened his friend list, this time intending to expand his questioning to Radiant Bulwark and Weaving Fate as well. And yet again – his communicator rang before he could begin.

“What is up with these people all of a sudden?!”

The number was unknown, which made Carl feel a bit uneasy. He answered with apprehension, expecting for it to be someone from his school.

“Hello?”

“Hello Carl,” a familiar female voice sounded. He couldn't quite place it, though.

“Yes?”

“I'm Prof. Laura Caspari, we've met a couple weeks ago at the university.”

Carl's heart immediately sped up. Oh boy! That was it! But … why was her tone so strict?