Jack Freed had died horribly. Murdered in a back alley by some two-bit mobster who hadn’t been happy with the measly sixty dollars he’d been carrying in his wallet. As he had laid dying in that dirty alley, holding the bullet wound in his gut, he had assumed that experience would be the worst, and final, thing he ever felt.

He was wrong.

When he’d woken up in that strange void, screaming in fear, he’d assumed he was about to be judged by whatever gods or demons decided such things. Instead, after the initial panic, he had found himself strangely calm. Still mind numbingly terrified, but not as much as he had been seconds ago.

For long minutes he had raged at the mysterious voice to put him back. Then he had begged. Then he had cried. He had imagined his mother learning her precious baby boy had died in some filthy alley during a drug trade gone wrong. Well, drugs and other business. Hopefully she’d never learn about that though.

Even for him though, the pity couldn’t last forever. Eventually, exhaustion had claimed him and he fell asleep crying. Afterwards, he hadn’t woken up until almost twelve hours later. Half his time, gone in an instant. And that wasn’t even counting all the time wasted begging the emotionless Voice of Death to put him back.

His decisions had only gotten worse from there.

Still feeling down and unhappy with his lot in life, or rather death he supposed, he had decided to do something to cheer himself up. When he’d been alive, he’d always promised himself he’d have one of those real primo spreads. The type only the richest douchebag could afford. Seventy-dollar salads, three-hundred-dollar burgers, that sort of thing. And for the low price of eighty-six points, one could finally be his! He even got a glass of god damn Dalmore Constellation scotch with his meal!

It was truly a meal fit for the top dogs. The kings and presidents of Earth. He could never have even approached a dream of this level of decadence in his old life. At least that was what his contented mind told him as he prepared for a nap after making what was, in his humble opinion, the best decision he had ever made.

An opinion that had begun to change when he woke up to the agony of a foot long leech latching onto his leg. Apparently he’d hit the end of the count down in that mysterious void space and the Voice of Death had been content to drop him in a god damn swamp! Screaming, he ripped the leech away and scrambled onto a small hillock that breached the water.

The news had not gotten better as he read through his messages. Not only was it a swamp it was the fucking Mindflayed Swamp! The hell did that even mean? He didn’t know, he just knew he liked his mind as it was and not flayed. Fucking death couldn’t even give him a good second life. No, had to send him to a god damn swamp to be eaten and chewed on by leeches.

Maybe this was hell. Maybe the void space had been where he was being judged, and now he was stuck in hell. His mother would be so disappointed. Maybe he should have gone to church more with her. The reverend had been such a bastard though, always telling him that anything even remotely fun was a sin.

Hard to say if a life of chastity and dourness would have been worth evolving an afterlife of swamp and leeches.

Unfortunately, being out of the water proved itself not to be the safety he was hoping for. Instead, he’d found a whole other breed of nightmares waiting for him. Weird hedgehog looking things with a shark like mouth and a big ass venus fly trap protruding from their back. No to mention being about a foot tall and covered in tentacles that drew things greedily toward its gnashing mouths.

The Voice of Death had called it a Mygoricius, and he swore it had laughed while mentioning they were one of the most common monsters in the swamp. The thing just wanted to watch him suffer! He was absolutely sure of it.

When the monster had started drooling some kind of purple goo that hissed as it dripped on the ground, he’d decided to make a run for it. There was no other option! No way he was tangling with some kind of acidic rodent-plant from hell. Not without some serious firepower.

#

To his immense frustration, the shop had refused to sell him a gun. Nothing appeared no matter what he searched. Machine Gun, AR, rifle, flamethrower…Not even a handgun or revolver. No modern weaponry would show up. The best he could find were a handful of old school muzzle loaded weapons, something he had no clue how to properly load and fire. He only knew enough to know he couldn’t use them.

Which had left him with only one other option, a crossbow. He had briefly debated a bow, but he had only the most basic idea of how to fire one and figured a crossbow would handle a lot more similarly to a gun. It had sights and you held it in the same way after all…

He just hadn’t accounted for how difficult loading the damn thing would be. Eventually, he’d learn that you were supposed to step on the damn thing to reload it, that way you could get the full strength of your body involved. At the time, he’d been convinced he just wasn’t strong enough.

Which was how he ended up spending almost all of his remaining points on increasing his strength stat to one-hundred-and-thirty-four. Loading it was still a bear, but he could manage it. And when it actually hit something, well he doubted any monster would be pleased with the result.

Quickly, he fell into a pattern. If he saw something, or heard something in the underbrush, he’d fire the big crossbow as best he could in the threat’s direction. Then, he’d turn on his heal and make a run for it. Overall, it seemed to be working. Most creatures either scared off by wild shots or busy trying to figure out what had flew past them.

He’d made it nearly an entire day before the monsters got him.

It was another of the Mygoricius things, this one even bigger than the first and obviously hungry. At least, Jack assumed so considering the amount of purple drool that dripped from the things mouth. His shot had gone wide, and the thing hadn’t been the least bit intimidated. Instead of retreating, when Jack turned his back to flee the monster had charged. Long vines had shot from its sides and cocooned him, before slowly beginning to drag him back.

Thankfully, his screams of fear had been enough to attract the attention of one of the other nearby groups. A team of big minotaur looking - they’d said they were called Tav somethings, but he hadn’t been paying attention – beasts that were at least civilized enough to not want to eat him.

That had been a real concern of his at first, and he spent long seconds cowering and begging as they stared at him. Eventually, one had gotten frustrated and smacked him on the back of the head. When that shut him up, the thing had been quick to introduce their group as Rolling Thunder and had said they were willing to get him out of the swamp. For a price.

Spending the forty points to get the coin they asked for was a no brainer, and he had gladly paid.

#

He’d cried when they finally left the swamp. The Voice of Death had said something about him “forfeiting any right to the inheritance of the Mindflayed Swamp” by leaving early, but what did he care! What “inheritance” could possibly be worth forcing his way through that god forsaken, rancid pit of suffering and leeches.

Some other poor sap could claim this “inheritance”. Or more likely die trying. He was going to fucking live. Live and get out of this hell.

After a couple questions, asked carefully and fearfully to avoid enraging the beasts who had guided him so far, he had concocted a plan. He was going to the city! He knew how to live in those. Every city had crime, and all organized crime needed an accountant. Someone good with coins and numbers. If he made it there, everything would be all right.

With plans made, he began to wander his way in the direction the giant minotaurs had said the city was. At any other point in his life, he would have called it the worst journey imaginable. Hours of walking, no air conditioning, only the ground to sleep on…

After the swamp though, it had been downright relaxing. No monsters trying to eat him, the nights stayed warm enough that his lack of a blanket wasn’t a problem, and he had not encountered a single blood sucker of any kind!

The only damper on his journey had been when he ran out of points, and therefore out of food and water, on the third day. He refused to eat that “nutritional bar” the shop tried to scam you into for one point. It had said it would feed him for the day, but he didn’t trust it. The thing looked far too small when the voice had shown him an illusion of the food. Thankfully, a lovely old couple had seen him wandering past on the road, tired and hungry. They had invited him in for dinner and let him sleep in the barn for the night too! Truly kind souls.

He swore he would pay them back when he snuck out the next morning with a stolen basket full of eggs and cheese. He had tried to find some of the leftover meats, but hadn’t found where they were stored. He figured it wasn’t too much of a loss, that this would be enough to get him to the city. How far away could it really be after all?

#

Pretty far as it had turned out. He didn’t make it to the city until nine days later. Two after he had eaten the last of the eggs, raw since he had taken nothing to cook them with. The city guard had stopped him, accusing him of being a vagrant and a thief of all things! They’d warned him that they’d have their eyes on him and not to get up to any trouble.

That was fine, he’d be ruling his own little chunk of this city soon enough. Manipulating it from the shadows as part of some powerful crime family. Then he’d make these guards pay. Make them apologize for thinking so little of him.

He did his best to wipe the dirt from his clothes and hide the sweat stains. He was going to have to look his best for what came next. Couldn’t have them casting him away because of a few unfortunate nights spent outdoors…

Maybe he could even scrounge up something new to wear if he was careful. And a bath too, if he could manage it. There was a river only thirty minutes outside the city, and he really did need to impress.

Such thoughts filling his mind, he began wandering through one of the residential parts of the city. Over the next few hours, he slowly found himself to be the proud owner of a new pair of trousers and a decent enough leather coat. Good enough to hide his dirty and stained shirt at least. He also had a fortunate encounter with a nervous housewife that had left him in possession of a bucket and soap.

Whistling, he left the city to make his way back to the river and prepare for his inevitable rise.

#

The following months had not been kind to him. Every time he had approached some small group of criminals, hoping to make his way into their good graces, they had beaten him and robbed him of what few possessions he had at any given time. Word got around about the “dirty beggar” trying to get in the various crime groups good graces.

He was managing though.

He’d claimed a little corner of one back alley all for himself. The days were getting colder, but a few trips out on the town had found a number of rags and blankets…donated to his use. He’d pay them all back when his fortunes turned of course. They’d all be glad to have assisted in his rise.

Things were tough now, but he’d find the right partner. Eventually. And then they’d realize just how useful he could be! After that, join up with a larger operation. Rise through the ranks by merit and skill. Work your way to the very top, and prove your worth. Then everything he ever wanted would be his.

A few years of that, making a nice big nest egg and the right investments, and he could retire. Switch to doing something that would make his mother proud.

These damn barbarians didn’t know their ass from their face, but he’d show them. He’d show them the worth of a modern man. And then he might even forgive them. Let them ride on his coat tails.

Digging around, he pulled out the battered, beaten bucket he’d been gifted all those weeks ago when he first made it to the city. It had seen better days, but it was one possession he had managed to hold on to. One he was glad he had, given all he used it for. Whistling, he swung his way to his feet and left for the nearby well. First, he’d use it to slake his thirst, then the two of them would go shopping for food.

“Excuse me sir!” A voice called out as he walked, “You sir! The man with the bucket! May I talk to you?”

He turned, gesturing to himself, and was surprised when the owner of the voice nodded emphatically. She was a tall woman, maybe five-nine or -ten, and heavily muscled. Like a weight lifter or one of the city guards. She carried herself with a surety Jack rarely saw in people, and walked confidently towards him.

“Have you heard about the Empress’s new program? She seeks to help people in need such as yourself. A soft bed, a warm meal…She sees these as the bare minimum that should be provided for her people. Maybe I could lead you to the local shelter?”

Bristling as his pride was bruised, he responded harshly, “What on Earth are you talking about? I’m fine! Just a little down on my luck. Everything will be sorted out soon and just you watch! I’ll be back on top, right where I belong.”

She held her hands out, doing her best to appear non aggressive and de-escalate the situation. He saw something change in her eyes, but wasn’t sure what. All he knew was that she seemed to be doing her best. Trying to be understanding and kind. He began to feel a little bad about how he had treated her.

“Of course you will. Nobody is saying you won’t. I just thought maybe you could use a little help right now. Something to take away some immediate worries so you can focus on fixing things up long term. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“I…I suppose it does. I apologize for snapping at you, things have been a bit tough lately.”

She seemed to consider him for a moment before continuing, “I don’t recognize your accent. Are you new to the city?”

He was surprised to see her taking an interest in him, but it left him feeling warm. Like somebody was finally there to support him. He almost felt like crying, but held himself together to keep the conversation with this wonderful woman going.

“Yep! Only been here a couple of months. I’m from…pretty far away.”

She smiled as he said it. That was nice. Maybe he could make her smile more…

“Oh wow! Must have been quite a story that brought you here than. I bet it was unbelievable!”

She took his hand, guiding him quickly through the crowd. They were headed deeper into the city, closer to the nice central district. He didn’t often make it up there. The guards could be a bit touchy about strangers such as himself.

Realizing he had spaced out instead of answering her question, he quickly gave a response, “Oh, you’d never believe me if I told you.”

That was suave right? It must have been, she was still smiling at him. Didn’t let go of his hand either. Something about her eyes bothered him for just a moment, but she really was quite lovely.

“We’ll have to see. I look forward to hearing all about your journey here over the next few days. I’ll bet we can get up to all sorts of mischief.”

“I think I’d like that…” He responded dreamily, “Just tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it!”

She laughed at his response. It was a little harsh, but the laugh was beautiful and making him nearly melt.

“That’s a good attitude. Try to keep that in mind!”

As he entered the plain door on the side of one of the buildings, he was hit with the wonderful smell of fresh bread and soup. He saw a sign pointing toward a dining hall, but the mysterious woman led him deeper inside the building instead.

Maybe she wants to keep it private? He wondered to himself. Just the two of us. That would be nice…

The last thing he saw was a red door. Something hit the back of his head and the world went dark.