My mom ruffled my hair, currently, looking up to me in pride. “You make sure to take care of yourself son. Don’t get injured pushing yourself too hard! You hear me!” She adjusted the collar of my coat. She was surprisingly lucid today, something that was rare, for sure, and that I would celebrate whenever I could. I wrapped her in a hug.

Waking up in my own house after resting in a warm, soft bed was beyond refreshing.

Especially after weeks in that hellscape.

The good news, though, was that today was a new day, and I even had a sun to show for it. Today was the 26th, a whole 3 days before I would, presumably, grow full body hair and warp into a lycan. I had most definitely woken up to nightmares of my bones bending and contorting out of shape.

I sighed as I finally made my way outside. I only sort of had a sun to show for it. It was still hidden behind clouds, but they were gray instead of red. It was still an improvement. There were birds that weren’t trying to eat me, but I can’t say I could enjoy the sound of them chirping much over the sound of the city. Its pretty crazy how fast life adapts; rats and birds to cities. Humans to gates.

Every party I had applied to thus far had rejected me. Raids, porting, guard details… all rejected. At least, they weren’t taking anyone in my level in Artemis. There was only one real solution; I had to level up. I adjusted the bag strapped over my shoulder while I made my way to one of the more permanent gates to Ourea. Even before I arrived at the building the street was flooded with the earthiness of Ourea’s mana.

It only intensified as I stepped inside. The ceiling was high, vaulted, and regally decorated despite appearing to be a typical office building on the outside. A guild attendant continued staring at her phone, not looking up to acknowledge me. She had the emblem of a private company on her uniform; an eye intersected within a unicursal hexagram marked her as a member of the Premonition guild. The Premonition guild as a preeminent super entity, known to own multiple colonies on their own. I coughed to gain her attention.

“ID.” She spoke without looking up, loudly chewing gum.

I set down my lunchpail and bag, opening my wallet and handing her my USAG registration— an Iron rank ID card. It didn’t have my level on it; just my latest evaluation and grade.

“Going solo? Aren’t you a brave one.” She looked me over, evaluating me. “Camping trip too, huh.”

“Oh this? No, well I… you could say it's for more of a picnic.” I smiled.

“Yeah, sounds real romantic. Pass is fifty dollars. One time. No wrist stamp.”

“Fifty? For this place?” I looked around the empty room.

She smiled in consolation, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t decide the prices. Not like there are many iron gates around that people want to keep open.”

I grimaced, handing her my card. I didn’t know what exactly went into keeping a gate open, but I’m sure it wasn’t cheap. Once a gate was opened, it created an ephemeral ‘key’, something that could be moved and stretched to close and open the gate somewhere else, but only by someone with the magical proficiency to do so. Some of these had incredible values, others… not so much.

Premonition was known for having an incredible amount of keys. They bought land where gates were opened before anyone knew they were going to, establishing a huge monopoly on several realms. There was a rumor that their guild leader had skills that allowed him to see the future. It would make their choice in name very bold.

This gate though… was iron grade. The average iron grade core could sell for maybe 10 dollars, if you were lucky. Iron grade parties tended to number at least 10, which meant that they would have to kill 50 monsters just to break even. That was a total rip off.

Which is fine, because no one, including me, goes into an iron grade gate to earn money.

It also meant no one else would be in the area near the gate.

Perfect for what I was planning.

The gate didn’t wobble when I stepped through it either, alleviating much of my concerns. Irregulars were known to cause strange activities in the gates they entered, especially as they leveled, though it appeared I was safe from it for now. A guard greeted me on the other side before looking back at his laptop. He was… playing solitaire. Classic security. He sent a curious look at the bags I was carrying and looked behind me but I just smiled, heading to the building's locker room, changing into my armor.

Premonitions building in Ourea was a veritable fortress. Maybe 20000 square feet of it, arranged like a miniature star fort. It was fine for Ourea, but nothing like the bigger gate fortresses of the far colonies and the cities that surrounded or contained them.

It was an hour long hike to an area where the monsters were not too afraid to trespass. The monsters found me first. Goblins were pack hunters; short, green, and ugly, and they snarled from the brush and foliage around me.

They were a motley of deep green and brown; literal shit mobs.

One of the first creatures I had ever killed was a Goblin. They prowled through the brush around me, communicating in monosyllabic grunts and noises, and poking crude stone spears at me like backwards savages. I reached for my knife— the one that I didn’t have. Right. Have to stop doing that.

The first of them pounced towards me as I inspected it.

Mountain Goblin

100/100

This is going to be a slaughter.

[Scratch] tore through them two at a time, shredding their tiny bodies into mincemeat. Gore splattered around me.

Markus led his party through Ourea. Currently, they were dealing with a level five Goblin ambush. He inspected one.

Mountain Goblin Lv. 5

100/100

Skills:

Pack Mentality Lvl 9

Dagger usage

Stone crafting

“Jakob! Draw aggro!”

“[Taunt]!”

“Sig! Light them-”

“Dude! Our battle pattern is the same every fight! You don’t have to- [Firebolt]! -rehash this!”

One of the Goblins erupted in flame, casting its small stone spear aside and rolling in pain.

Markus sighed, diving in to fulfill his class role of [Fighter].

“The point,” Markus punctuated between a stab that pierced a Goblin heart. It grabbed at the blade, wriggling and screaming. He had to yell to speak over it, “Is to always instantly react,” he retracted his blade, swinging around to [Decapitate] a Goblin that was about to stab at his tank’s back, “to commands in combat!”

He panted. The last of the Goblins were dead.

Mountain Goblin(x7) slain!

You’ve earned 332 XP! Congrats!

Level up!

“The third one today… one more, then we go back. I’m almost out of MP.” Markus spoke first. Wordlessly, Jakob lifted his shield, following Markus forward, along with Sig, dragging leaning on his staff as he trekked through the rough landscape. It was some thirty minutes before Markus raised his hand.

“Human footprints. Looks like they came here alone… only one pair.” They followed the trail for another ten minutes, coming to a broken clearing in the foliage. It looked like a hurricane had torn apart everything in a ten foot radius, mixed lines of splintered brush littering the clearing.

Markus reached down to the soil, rubbing it between his fingers. “Goblin blood...what the hell?” He looked around at the dessicated corpses. Each of their bodies looked like they had gone through a butchery.

“Do you smell that?” Jakob asked. Markus stood.

“Is that... what the hell is going on?”

They jogged through the foliage to a new clearing, following the scent of cooking meat. Their weapons were drawn, prepared for a scene of carnage, thinking that the Goblins had captured and begun to cook someone.

In a wolf head and hell chicken leather ensemble, covered in flaking blood, Damon waved at them as they stepped out of the brush. Meat cooked on a propane grill in front of him, and he held a sandwich in one hand.

“Didn’t expect anyone around here. Are you part of the Premonition guild?” Damon asked.

Markus nodded, still staring at the man who was having a picnic in a gate. “What level are you?” Markus blurted. Someone taking this place so casually must be many levels above it, he thought.

“Hmmm? Oh, I’m still in the Iron grade.” Damon spoke between mouthfuls of sandwich.

“Hey, you have enough to share?” Jakob reached down towards one of the dozens of sandwiches on Damon’s picnic blanket, causing Damon to reach forward to intercept him, eyes wide. Markus took note of the dozens of small opaque bags behind him. “We can party up after!”

“I really would rather not share.”

“But you brought at least a dozen! Oh, here!” Jakob reached into the bag at his side, fishing out an iron grade core that was still crusted with dried blood. It was smaller than a penny, irregularly shaped and a dim, dark, swampy green.

“They’re not for sale.” Damon said, packing the sandwiches and opaque bags into his lunch pail until it was full. It filled up, and he awkwardly fumbled with his gym bag, loading the rest. Markus’s party watched in confusion.

“Well, nice to meet you.” Damon paused, making eye contact with Markus. Markus maintained the awkward silence, blanching. “I’ll be going now.” Damon rushed away, leaving the picnic blanket behind.

“What a fucking weirdo.” Sig said, watching Damon’s disappearing back. “What was his name?”

“I don’t think we… asked for it.” Markus said. “He wasn’t… I mean, he couldn’t have been eating—”

“All kinds of people exist, I guess.” Sig interrupted.

“What are you guys talking about? They looked delicious…” Jakob’s stomach rumbled.

“You need to invest more into your INT.”

‘That was close,’ I thought, ignoring my aching stomach. ‘Just an hour earlier and that party would have found me butchering goblin corpses…’ I sighed.

I need to find a way to eat more without getting sick. Eating random mobs is dangerous, too… I could end up with a ton of low level skills and high level debuffs. I’ll have to do some research.

“Status.”

Name: Damon

Level: 8

Skills | Debuffs

Title: None

Class: Devourer

[Scratch] Lvl. 10 | [Talons] Lvl 0

HP: 800/800

[Tenacity] Lvl 1 | [Wolfman] Lvl 9

AP: 15/15

[Pack Mentality] Lvl 8 | [Cowardice] Lvl 2

Strength: 10

Constitution: 10

Dexterity: 15

Perception: 13

Goblins were stealth hunters. Eating them had boosted my perception- only slightly. And I mean, I ate… a lot of them. At least my system gave decent rewards, I thought, playing with the cores in my pocket.

[Pack Mentality] Lvl. 8

Goblins fight better together. [Pack Mentality] is a skill that increases their cumulative fighting potential and stats.

[Cowardice] Lvl. 2

Divided we are weak. When alone, goblins experience [Cowardice], a fear debuff that causes them to seek out and group with allies.

I had to find a skill that would let me eat more. I couldn’t even get rid of [Cowardice] with my puny, human stomach.

Monsters that could eat indefinitely… I was going to need some water breathing potions.