The bear didn’t shove him back. It’d be more accurate to say he flicked him away. Peter felt the handle of the cart smash against his back. He looked up at the giant like he was a big meal to chew through. 

 

“You fuckin’ with me?” He pulled out a short-handled axe, brandishing it menacingly. Peter caught his own reflection in the polished blade; he looked deranged. “You wanna die over some fucking ale, you freak?”

 

“Do you?”

 

Peter knew this was it. He’d been complient in every robbery and threat he’d dealt with in the last two years, knowing he was an ant. Knowing he could be squashed and snuffed out at any moment and the people around him would scarcely even notice. He’d endeavoured and tried to pick himself up and keep moving for the sake of some better tomorrow, but that ‘better tomorrow’ didn’t exist.

 

But this feeling inside of him? This was real. This disgust, this rejection of the life he’d been given. He was going to take control. He was going to do things on his fucking terms, even if it was just once. 

 

Peter channeled the only offensive spell he knew, sparks dancing along his fingertips as he looked up at the bear, eyes ablaze with arcane energy. 

 

As Peter unleashed the arcane bolt, the front of the large bandit’s chest exploded, spraying viscera.

 

Peter flinched back, dumbfounded. A silvery spectral blade twirled and slashed across the bear’s midsection, bringing him to his knees, eye-level with Peter.

 

Peter couldn’t react, only watch as the magical display raged on, making short work of the bandit, the magical blade splitting into five and then magically skewering him from so many angles he looked like a hairy pincushion. 

 

Leader watched on in shock, as did Peter. Leader probably thought it was him doing it, but Peter was just as confused as the leader was. 

 

When he noticed Peter looking at him, he cursed and drew his scimitar, the cigarette dropping from his lips. He brandished and twirled the weapon, preparing to get a good swing in on Peter, but before he could move, a small figure leapt out of the darkness, blocking the weapon, batting it away with a flick of their…

 

Tail?

 

“Stop gawking at me,” came a female voice, so invasive it felt as if it’d originated from inside Peter’s brain. He shuddered, pushing himself back as he finally drank in the violence and absurdity of the situation. 

 

It was the cat. It was the fucking cat, its coat shimmering like the night sky, even in broad day. The feline’s motions were like those of a rolling, leaping, flipping ninja, claws extended, teeth glinting in sunlight. 

 

With another swing of its tail, it pushed the bandit back a good three feet, and with a single, murmured magical word, resonant with power, the leader dropped his sword, along with two of his fingers.

 

Bleeding, clutching his hand, the leader turned to run, as did the skinnier man beside him, though Peter noted he was still clutching a skin of alcohol as he did so.

 

No way… He’s still got my fuckin’ booze!

 

The thought was interrupted by a fresh bout of pain. A single, panicked glance at Peter’s slightly charred hand made him realise he’d been holding onto his magic far beyond releasing the spell. He’d been so shocked by what had happened that he’d completely forgotten to end the channel after shooting the lightning.

 

But that wasn’t what mattered right now… what the fuck was this creature?! [Identify] had decided to upgrade its description from [Domestic Cat] to [Mysterious Cat] and Peter would say it’d done more than enough to earn that qualifier. This thing had just ended a high-level bandit like he was a fucking toy she decided to break on a whim.

 

And still she was staring up at him after. Her eyes were eerie, piercing, glowing… 

 

“Th-thanks.” It was all that he could manage right then. He dropped to the floor in a slump, his ass barely feeling the impact.

 

“You wouldn’t have needed help if you hadn’t goaded the big one. Did you somehow know I’d save you?”

 

Peter stared at her like she’d just asked if he could accurately predict lottery numbers. “What? How the fuck could I know that? Who expects a cat to save their life?”

 

He felt a little bad for reacting rudely, but if she cared she didn’t show it. Instead, she chuckled.

 

“Really? So would you have felt differently if I’d looked like this?” With that said, she morphed into an entirely different shape, and with a sheen of brilliant magic she became a human being, hair still shimmering blue, purple, and black and trailing down her back, skin pale and her eyes still that ethereal, inhuman shade of green. 

 

She smirked at his reaction, which was somewhere between incredulity and awe.

 

“Or how about like this?” she’d spoken with her mouth that time, rather than inside his head, but before he could register it, she’d transformed into a grand, terrifying winged beast, a dragon three times the size of any of the pack wyverns in the company, the kind villages forked over ransoms to and that grand adventurers refused to hunt for any grand prize.

 

Peter hadn’t felt fear earlier, but right now, staring up at this creature as she licked her lips, he felt as if he might piss himself.

 

Seemingly noticing his terror, she transformed back into a person, staring at him with playful eyes, like those of a person inspecting a pet she was vaguely considering keeping. “Well? Might you have felt differently then?”

 

It took time for Peter to find his voice. When he did, it was cracked and raw. “If you’d looked like that, I would’ve turned around screaming way before I got this far.”

 

“Well, what ended up happening was far more entertaining, even if that does sound a little funny.”

 

I’m glad you find this so hilarious. I almost died. Peter shuddered, taking a deep breath and making to stand.

 

His body slumped once more before he could find his feet. 

 

“Is there something wrong with you?” the woman asked, fiddling with her hair as she did so. “You constantly look like you’re about to keel over and die.”

 

Peter needed to hear that to find his composure, apparently. He struggled his way to his feet, trying to not look too pathetic in the process. He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

 

She twisted a strand of hair until it would twist no more, then allowed it to unwind, lips pursed. “No… you’re not. Your body’s mana is in serious flux. You clearly aren’t used to casting spells like that.”

 

“If you already know I’m not fine, then why ask me?”

 

“Because your responses are interesting.”

 

Peter snarled through fresh pain. “Is that why you let me think that spider was gonna eat you earlier too? Because you just wanted to see what I’d do?”

 

“Hmm? No, it was just too weak for me to notice. I was just enjoying the shade, then you ran at me like a madman.” She snickered. “You tried to save me, and I appreciate that. You also fed me.”

 

Peter rubbed at his temples. This was a lot to take in. “Guess this makes us even now?”

 

“Even?” She started to pick her teeth, mulling the word over. “I suppose it does. I still have questions though.”

 

“Like what?”

 

She paced back and forth beside the fallen bandit, staring at him all the while. “Your name’s probably a good place to start.”

 

“It’s Peter.” The horse with the cart had been left behind, he just now realised, likely because it would’ve been the slowest. That meant he could still make his delivery on time, if he hurried. He started walking over to the horse, but the woman stepped in front of him, barring his way. “What are you—”

 

“I’m not done with my questions yet, and you’re not in a condition to go anywhere.” She stood solidly in front of him, and despite the fact she was smaller in stature than Peter, experience in this world as well as what he’d just seen had taught him to know that didn’t mean anything. He stopped, sighed, and nodded for her to continue.

 

“Why were you so angry over a measly bit of food and drink?”

 

“I wasn’t angry about my lunch,” Peter answered, trying to place his feelings as he spoke. “Well, I guess I was a bit. I was angry about a lot of things.”

 

“Because you’re unable to advance your power beyond that of a child?” She leaned forwards then, and with a blink, Peter felt a surge of magic wash over him like water, soothing his injuries and dulling his pains. He flexed his arm, and where there was usually reduced or even no feeling, he felt synapses firing. He’d almost forgotten how it felt for a part of him to feel normal. 

 

“Yeah, I guess that’s a big part of it. That and the fact I’m about two late payments away from going homeless.” Peter might’ve sounded less casual, but he was busy marvelling at how relaxed his arm felt as the magic stream continued, how painless and effortless the movement was when he flexed it.

 

Part of him wanted to go lift one of the heavy crates, just to see if he could. His curiosity dwarfed his excitement, though. He peered at the mysterious entity before him. “What exactly are you? How can you cast magic like that?”

 

“I’m an outworlder, like you.”

 

Peter’s eyes widened at that. “You’re from Earth? You can tell I’m an outworlder?”

 

Her face twisted as he spoke. “I’m not sure what an ‘Earth’ is, but yes, I can tell. My Identify skill tells me as much. It told me your name, too, but it felt more polite to ask. You can call me Seles, in case you were wondering.”

 

Despite himself, Peter laughed. “Mine still says you’re a cat.”

 

Seles giggled at that. “That’s amazing. What rank is your Identify skill?”

 

“Five. It’s the max I can raise a skill to.”

 

“But you can learn any skill because you’re not bound to a class…” Seles tapped a finger against her chin, eyes staring past him. “I suppose not being able to learn anything beyond the absolute basics isn’t really made up for by versatility. I take it you can’t simply get a better job?”

 

“Even if I could, I’d still be paying off the cart. Good jobs go to people with good skills, people like me are somewhere between being second class citizens and disabled. Well, I’ve never met someone truly like me… When it first happened, no one even knew what a hard cap passive was.”

 

“Hmm… That’s interesting.” Seles made to turn around, then hesitated. When she spoke, her voice was light, less jovial. “I can’t do anything about your level cap, unfortunately. Whatever force placed it upon you is too alien for me to interfere with.” 

 

Peter blinked at her, before finally beginning to load up the new cart with food, the one with the horse attached. “Yeah, go figure. I wasn’t expecting you to say you could. That’d be totally crazy.”

 

“However… you’d be able to advance your skills and become stronger if you had a class, would you not?”

 

Now she sounded like the blinking notification messages in Peter’s system. “Yeah, if I could get a class. Classes unlock at level 10, which was probably so long ago for you that you’ve forgotten about it.”

 

“I can give you a class.” 

 

Peter carried on loading the food onto the new cart as Seles’ magic continued to rejuvenate him. Then he dropped the wineskin. He turned and stared at her, mouth agape. “Wh-what did you say?”

 

“I can give you a class,” Seles repeated, as if it were the most casual statement in the world.

 

Peter blanched, unable to believe his ears. “H-how? How can you?—”

 

Seles bit her lip, taking a moment to respond. “Look, I almost didn’t mention it. Truthfully, I didn’t really care all that much what happens to you, but you seem nice and—I just wanted you to know your options.” She swiped her hand, and the trickle of healing magic finally abated. Peter felt a fresh, numb tingling in his fingers as soon as the spell ended. Seles sighed. “There are drawbacks to what I’m offering you. It’s not exactly the most conventional of classes, you understand?”

 

Peter felt the same unpleasant aches and tingles returning to his body as she spoke, albeit to a lesser intensity than usual. He looked out at the new cart he was to use, at the horse he’d probably have to sell in order to make this week’s rent, which he’d only attained by luck.

 

“I want it. I don’t care what it is, I want it.”

 

Seles raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

 

“I have no money, no class, and I’m level five. My life has been a constant and repetitive kick in the nuts ever since I got here, and it hasn’t gotten better. I’ve tried everything. Religion didn’t help me, the guy offering the dark pact was a scammer, the evil amulet I bought rejected me… I don’t care if the class you’re offering is toilet cleaner, I’ll take it. No second thoughts.”

 

Seles studied him for a long time before she spoke. “You really don’t wanna hear the downsides? You might change your mind if you know how difficult—”

 

“Then do it now, before I do change my mind.”