The usual vein stuck out on my forehead.

There wasn’t nearly enough information to draw from here. Apparently, region 14 had a high vulnerability, but there was literally no explanation as to what that meant, what the underlying reasons were, or how to fix it. I hypothesized that Flauros Bind and Incursion Chance were probably correlated somehow. If we had a strong connection to the Flauros realm, that likely meant that dungeons and trials would be much more common in this region—thus monsters were more likely to break free and attack.

No clue what luminaries were, apart from the vague hunch that they were most likely individuals. Core and the significance of ranking was also lost on me. Something about the number of regions was bothering me, now that I saw the total of twenty, but I made a mental note to return to that when I wasn’t in a time crunch.

I reached out and blindly pressed several more buttons on the elevator, slowing our descent.

“What, again?” Kinsley squawked. “Why didn’t we just make them wait before we got in the elevator?”

“Excuse me for expecting this interface to be intuitive,” I muttered, scanning more text.

While the region having no patron deity was good for me, it was probably bad for everyone else and the region in general. I had no idea how one went about getting a deific patron, but even if I knew, the Allfather of Chaos was out. It would be too obvious of a giveaway, and the last time I’d spoken to him, he’d made it clear he was weakened and dying. Limited use. Nychta was a better choice, but only relatively. I knew nothing about her, which made even considering the option dangerous.

Better to leave that for now.

Quests assigned in the region become far more common and rewarding. However, the time limits are reduced, and penalties for failures grow significantly more severe.

Increases: Flauros Bond, Vulnerability, Potential Core Development.

Decreases: Security.

Restricts Settlement Policy to Proportional.

I furrowed my brow and reread the description. In a perfect world, this would have been the immediate pick regardless of the other options. Quests were by and large the best way to rack up experience, and having more of them meant faster growth. Anything that put us that far ahead was worth a look.

However, the penalty aspect severely tainted it. I knew from personal experience that quests weren’t always fair. Or achievable, for that matter. The only reason I hadn’t failed most of mine was thanks to extended or unspecified time limits. If those time limits became more severe, and we weren’t perfectly organized to handle it, people would start failing more quests—or rush in unprepared and die trying to complete them, costing us a User and a penalty. It’d be all too easy to spiral.

The region flourishes. Materials rare in other regions become bountiful, along with rare monsters and items. A random ungifted is uplifted to the Dark Lord class. All benefits remain if the Dark Lord is vanquished.

Increases: Affluence, Flauros Bond, Security, Potential Core Development, Luminary Propagation.

Decreases: Alignment, Vulnerability, Incursion Chance.

Everything about the option set off alarm bells. When it came to increases and decreases, there was practically no downside save alignment, which was obscure in contrast to the clearly defined gains. All we had to do was allow a dangerous User into our midst, with the implication that we could face no consequences if we dealt with them early on.

Nick scared the hell out of me, and in terms of ranking, he was only a knight. I would rather not see what a Dark Lord was capable of.

It was an almost automatic no.

A precious resource is discovered to be bountiful within the region. Acquiring and processing it will take considerable effort, but the rewards for doing so are exponential. So much so that other regions may take notice.

Increases: Affluence (Significant), Vulnerability, Flauros Bind, Incursion Chance, Potential Core Development.

Decreases: Security, Luminary Propagation.

Another legitimate option I didn’t trust. Mainly because it was leaving a lot of shit out. The implied downside was that we’d be so wealthy it would cause trouble from other regions. But what it was actually invoking was a phenomenon known as the Resource Curse, which had far more downsides than the option inferred. There are countless examples of this. Just off the top of my head, Nigeria and Angola both rank incredibly high on the list of oil producing countries, yet their currency value and GDP per capita are astronomically low.

With Selve being a universal currency, the currency deflation issue wouldn’t necessarily apply to us. But developmental slow and industrial pigeonholing would, along with external region interference, once they discovered what we had. It was hard to say if the pro’s outweighed the cons.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Jesus fuck, I’m not an economist, give me a break here.

“First day and you’re already scaring the tenants.” Kinsley commented in amusement.

The elevator had opened on a lower floor. An old man with a cane waited outside the doors, staring back at me.

“There’s plenty of room,” I offered absent-mindedly, still mentally running through the region options.

The man shook his head, wispy white-hairs from a barely there combover floating before they settled back down. “No, no. I’ll get the next one, son. You’re him, right?” Tentatively, he reached in his pocket.

I immediately reached down to my back and partially withdrew my crossbow, prepared to activate

The old man withdrew a golden oblong object with trembling hands, gave an obvious backswing and tossed it to me. Adrenaline washed through me and I nearly threw myself from the wheelchair to dodge it, before interfered.

He’s obviously not a threat.

I caught the object at the last second. It was somewhat shaped like a UFO, so reflective I could see the deep bags under my eyes.

Craft Level: Masterwork

Description: The result of the purest inspiration and deft technique. This small piece of unknown metal allows the user to roll back a single feat and refunding their expended points. Once the process is complete, the charm will disintegrate.

Item Class: Rare

By the time I looked up from the description, the doors were already closing. “Wait—“

The doors closed, leaving me with the image of the old man waving with a twinkle in his eye. Annoyed by the abruptness with which the exchange had ended, I leaned back in my chair. The red ring around Kinsley’s eye faded, and her mouth dropped open.

“That’s—“

“Incredibly valuable.” I finished.

“I’ve seen crafted items before. But never a masterwork.” Kinsley mused. I passed the item to her, and she studied it. “This is pristine. Crafted items almost always look shoddier than system created counterparts. Maybe that’s because most vocational Users are still getting started.”

“The system seems slow in general to assign vocations unless you start with them,” I agreed. “I was supposed to get a vocation with my chain quest for helping you.”

“You were?”

“Yup. Still hasn’t happened. Look him up later?”

“Already on it.” Kinsley nodded. “No way I’m passing up any crafters at this point, let alone one that can make something like this. If he’s not already attached to a guild, I’ll snag him.”

Still split between the region options, I rattled them off to Kinsley. I was tempted to screw with the wording of to poison the well and push them away from it, but Tyler would be present. Working around his truth ability was difficult enough without sprinkling in more lies.

Kinsley transcribed the Region Options into a message to be sent to anyone present.

“Before we get in there, do you have a preference?” I asked.

With a sigh, Kinsley skimmed the text again. “I’m leaning towards Split between that and You?

“Narrowed it down to the same two, but leaning towards the opposite. Anything else?”

She let out a long grumbling noise. “I’m worried the others may push for The other two options create short-term problems and hurdles with big payoffs if we can stick the landing. Organization and production. Descent offers a lot of short-term gain with a long-term concern. If you don’t have any experience with them, it’s impossible to know how dangerous these “special,” classes are. We’re familiar with that issue, but they may not be. And we can’t exactly explain why.”

“Right.”

The elevator doors opened on the first floor. The lobby was covered in dark marble, flooring and pillars, and scattered with multiple couches and tables for impromptu discussions and get togethers. I wheeled myself out, Kinsley walking slightly ahead. It was eerily silent.

When I surveyed the atrium, I realized why. Everyone was looking in our direction. “Great,” I groused quietly, “You really are famous.”

“Maybe check again before you blame it all on me,” Kinsley half-skipped, moving ahead. Sure enough, the assortment of eyes didn’t follow her. They weren’t watching Kinsley.

They were watching me.

A few people approached to voice appreciation. Others followed with gifts, a handful of potions and Selve. I found myself on the receiving end of multiple handshakes.

“Weird. This is really weird.” I whispered to Kinsley.

“I’ve never seen you so uncomfortable before,” Kinsley snickered.

“Allow me,” a male voice said from behind me. Someone took the handles off my wheelchair and began to push me in the direction Kinsley was walking. Like the old man, they probably didn’t mean any harm. But I still felt my anxiety climbing to a peak. It didn’t stop until Kinsley, reading something I’d let slip through, thanked the man pushing the wheelchair and took over, maneuvering me towards one of several conference rooms.

“That wasn’t just discomfort,” Kinsley said, the levity in her voice gone.

“I’m fine.”

“You weren’t fine. Ask for help if you need it, idiot.”

Never been good at asking for help.

Kinsley opened the door and revealed the conference room. It looked more at home in a corporate office than an apartment. A long brown table with rounded edges was surrounded by rolling office chairs. The far end of the room was crowned by a projector screen, the projector itself hung in the center ceiling and powered down.

Sara and Tyler stood as we entered, all smiles. Tyler was dressed in business attire—a simple suit that looked off the shelf but fitted. Sara was wearing armor that looked more fantastical in nature, but the hint of regalia in the silver chain accents on the flowing garment still gave it a dressed-up air.

“There he is,” Tyler boomed, “The conquering hero.”

Sara’s smile was genuine, but more reserved. “Glad we’re finally meeting in better circumstances.”

My heart jumped into my throat for just a moment before I realized she was referring to the meeting at the region barrier and before that, the open-forum. “Sorry we’re late.”

Tyler shook his head. “Considering the circumstances, you have nothing to apologize for. And you aren’t even the last to arrive.”

As if on cue, the door behind us swung open. A man entered with a leather folio under his arm. The Rolex on his wrist glinted in the soft office light, accenting his light blue suit and tie. The suit was so high-end I didn’t recognize it. Maybe because I was too fixated on his face.

A strong jawline that jutted outward. A Hundred dollar haircut. Stubble maintained at the perfect length. Eyes that saw everything and considered it beneath him.

It’d been almost five years and aside from the gray streaks in his sideburns, he hadn’t aged a day.

Aaron Verner. Daphne’s asshole father. Probably a suit. And worst of all, the man who played a key role in my mother’s indictment. “Matthias?” He said, in a perfect simulation of surprise.

“What—what are you doing here?” I asked, dumbstruck.

“I’m the region representative.” Aaron grinned, and held out a hand.