After asking around, we booked a suite at “The Colosseum,” an upscale long term hotel designed for competitors visiting the city. What drew our, well mostly Lydia’s, attention were the full range of training facilities that it offered. It had traditional spaces like weights, pools, and sparring arenas, but the one that she was really drooling over was the “null damage simulacra” room. That space allowed for the simulation of lesser cored monsters and used the same enchantment as the battle royale to stop damage at the point of serious injury.

I had to struggle to stop Lydia from going directly there and let the porter show us to our room. It was a spacious 2 bedroom pseudo-apartment with a joint kitchen/living area. The décor differed from the building’s exterior and halls, featuring pillars and rough cut wood to invoke a sense of ruggedness. I paused just inside the threshold to take in my temporary home.

‘Jackpot.’

I strode directly to the newly discovered minibar. Without looking back, I called out, “Lydia, what’s good?”

“How do you like it?”

“Strong and smoky.”

“See if they have Sintris Ice Whiskey.”

They did. Frost crystallized on the outside of the glass as I poured. When I put down the bottle, a question sprung to mind.

“Lydia, do you know how that drink got the name whiskey? It’s the same as a type of alcohol from my world.”

“Oh, whatever word you just used is probably not its actual name.”

“What?”

“You’re speaking using a skill, correct?”

“Yes,” I searched my memory, “did I tell you that?”

“Maybe, but it's not hard to tell if you spend enough time with someone. Certain skills are self updating: language skills, barter skills, etc. Anything where the information you received can become outdated functions this way. For example, language skills don’t give you encyclopedic knowledge of all terms associated with inventions and concepts about which you know nothing. The system does not allow you to list the names of every mineral that exists on the planet. Rather, you learn the words for things you know, and then the system supplements your knowledge base as you learn additional concepts as you experience them. The update usually occurs mid-conversation, so it creates a slight verbal tic. If you talk to someone enough, it becomes noticeable.

“Interesting."

"The system keeps things balanced... except for dirty cheaters."

"Rules-"

"Don't make me slap you."

"Abuse!" I exclaimed in an overly exaggerated manner.

Lydia rolled her eyes as I sipped my whiskey.

Your Poison Resistance has provided you with the chance to overcome alcohol poisoning. Congratulations, you have resisted alcohol poisoning.

‘Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’

I put the glass down in disgust. “I think it's time you taught me about the world in a more structured manner. The things that even a deranged hermit would know.”

“So you would be my... there’s some sort of word for a person who learns things from another person… I keep forgetting it. Do you remember?”

“You’re the worst.”

“I know.” Lydia smiled, “but I'm happy to help. And now, I think it’s time to get very drunk.”

I groaned, “about that…”

************************

After waiting for Lydia to finish laughing at my expense, we sat down and talked. It was our first conversation away from danger or prying eyes. Over the course of the night, Lydia downed an entire bottle, becoming rather lively in the process. Unfortunately, this caused her to ramble about her favorite hobby.

“And thasss how Sssintrisss United beat the Kilgore Phenoxese, Pheonxies, Phnoxies… you know what I mean.”

“Yes… Of course.”

I nodded politely, but my mind drifted.

‘So… Now what?’

It dawned on me that I had no plans, obligations, or responsibilities. Handling crisis after crisis kept me too busy to stop and think. Then again, It's not like I had been great at setting goals in my last life.

“Hey, Lydia, what do you want to do?” I interrupted.

“Tomorrow? Letsss do your lessson in the mmmorning and train in the afffternoon. Oh! We should go shopppinnggg!”

“No, not tomorrow. I mean what do you want to do in general?”

Lydia cocked her head at me. “Thasss kind of a big quessstion to come out of nowhere. Why do you asssk?”

My brow furrowed. “I realized that I have no aims whatsoever, nothing driving me forward.”

Lydia looked at me seriously and did her best to sober up.

“Well… what did you want to do in your lasss- last world?” She asked, enunciating each word individually.

“That's the problem. I didn’t want to do anything. I just did things that came my way.”

“What?”

“When I was little, I always found myself explaining things. I’d tell anyone who’d listen about my latest obsession, so my parents joked that I’d be a great teacher. Then in school, I tutored struggling classmates, and their grades would inevitably improve, so my teachers said I’d be a great teacher. Everyone always said it… so I became a teacher. I didn’t even consider doing anything else.

Then, after I got my license, my old principal helped me get a job at the middle school that I had attended. I stayed at that job from my first year of work until the day I died. Hell, I managed to reach 34 without ever applying for a job. Don’t get me wrong, the work was fine. I didn’t have any real complaints, but I just fell into it. I had an entire career without ever asking myself if teaching was what I wanted to do.

Same for my love life. In college, most of the women I dated lived in the same dorm as me. As an adult, I usually dated coworkers. It was as though my greatest romantic criteria was “located nearby.”

Now, my second life has been more of the same. I cannot think of a single decision I’ve made to drive the plot. I got my abilities through no merit of my own. I fought with the weapon I found. I evolved without even opening my evolution menu, let alone choosing anything. I'm sick of it.”

Lydia paused, considering her words carefully. “So what do you want to do?”

“Long term? No clue. But for right now, I want to start charting my own course.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m going to start small. No matter what I end up doing, this is a world where I need to know how to fight. The spear is fine, but I want to pick my own weapon. I’m assuming there are a number of fighting schools in this city?

“Likely more than there are anywhere else.”

“Great. Then I know what I’m going to do. But that does take us back to my original question.”

“Which was?”

“What is it that you want to do?”

“That’s easy. I want to fight. I want to win. And I want to be the greatest warrior that anyone has ever seen.”

I let that sink in for a second. “Why?”

Lydia averted her eyes and dropped her smile. “Because then you have real freedom. No one can tell you what to do or who to be…” The moment hung, silence filling the room. Eventually, her smirk returned. “I am very drunk. I think it's time for bed.”

Lydia pulled herself up and walked towards her bedroom. As she got to the door, she turned back. “Don’t worry, Noah. We’ll get you sorted.”

“Thanks… and we’ll get you set as well.”

And with that, Lydia nodded, and disappeared into her room.

**********************

Hajim sat in his office, reviewing the most recent grant applications. He read one titled “A Study of the Effects of Earth Elemental Dust on the Northern Tree Larkin.” he sighed. The proposals were mundane, soulless, and guarded.

‘Where is the passion the guild once had? Where are the ideas that could shake the world and advance our understanding of the cosmos? Maybe I’ve just lived too long.’

Hajim had just celebrated his 127th birthday and felt tired. But, from his perspective, the problem wasn’t that he was slowing down, it was that the world was slowing down. Past mistakes had created an environment of fear, leading to endless review boards, safety protocols, and ceaseless whining about ethics in research. Breakthroughs required boldness, which the new generation lacked.

‘This world needs a renaissance. Otherwise we will stagnate, decline, and go the way of our ancestors.’ Hajim reassured himself. He often doubted his course, particularly as the plan took shape. But, the more he thought, the more he convinced himself that the endeavor was the only way to save society from its stupor.

His ruminations were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Master Hajim, I have returned.”

“Ah, yes, come in.”

In strode a small man with a thin, sharp face. He was clad in a black tunic with dark blue trim.

“Were you successful?”

“Yes, Master,” the man said, placing a deep crimson gem on the table in front of Hajim.

“Excellent work as always, Creed.”

“Thank you, master. Do you need anything else?”

Hajim thought for a second. “There was a man in the guild earlier today, Noah something. He was able to resist my mind control. Investigate him discreetly and find out what you can. I don’t want any surprises.”

“As you wish.”

Creed turned and walked out of the room, leaving Hajim to examine his new treasure. He pulled it close and whispered, “Hello there. I know you're scared, but rest well. It's a noble purpose that you’ll serve.”