The Dreamer hadn't liked to act that crass, but it had been the best path they had dreamed of to protect their ward. If they hadn't interfered, the high elf would've investigated Feng Shen's past, uncovered something—they hadn't checked to avoid temptation—and started manipulating Feng Shen. That wouldn't do, and the best way to prevent that had been to distract her with a direct attack.

Now, she would pursue his death with every last fiber of her being.

The Dreamer didn't care much. They wouldn't be the first to hate the Dreamer, and as long as no A-rank got involved, they could deal with any opposition. A-ranks were trickier, but they could still negotiate or run to his own A-rank supporters.

The Dreamer wouldn't fight the entire Alliance for the Primordial Bridge, but the Talent Reevaluation Committee wasn't as powerful as they advertised—not against B-ranks. They might be S-ranked, but only out of politics and to gain higher system clearance; they had no A-rank among their numbers.

They would, of course, use their political power to come back at him. But the bureaucracy involved should give the Dreamer enough time to finish the tutorial.

Then, the Dreamer would have completed a Bounty for the Primordial Bridge, and it would come with all kinds of rewards not stated in the Bounty itself.

Until then, they would fulfill their Bounty to the best of their ability.

"Yes, that," Shen said, slightly upset with Alicia's blunder. They knew the system was listening in. He had wanted to avoid any mentions about the empire.

Then again, she had already said she was sorry, so there was no need to pursue the matter.

"No worries, I'll keep your secret," she assured him, then smiled mischievously. "Pinky promise," she raised a closed fist with her little finger extended.

Shen didn't know what to do, so he just stared.

"This is common when making promises with each other," Alicia explained. "You entwine your pinky with mine to seal the promise. It's the highest regard of all the promises."

What a strange ritual. Then again, she had explained a handshake to him, and he had used it in the middle boss.

He extended his pinky, and they sealed the promise.

"Thank you," he said. "Now, I would like to pursue the topics of conversation I listed before, but I need to ask someone else for secrecy. I would appreciate your input on how to do it."

"Who is it?"

"Mark Williams," he said and suppressed a sigh.

"Well, fuck," she said. "When did you even tell him about your past?"

"That's right, I never told you how I met Mark, did I?" she shook her head. "We were in neighboring islands in the first stage. We talked to each other, but I didn't know I was in this day and age. There were misunderstandings, and he refused to believe the tale of my origins. Then he attacked me for no reason. I don't understand him."

"You should stay away from him," Alicia said. "I think he might be mental, like, legit crazy. I asked, and the Stage Overseer said the Alliance could heal some mental disorders—not all, mind you—but people could refuse treatment. I think that's what happened."

"That's unfortunate," Shen replied. "Yet, I must talk to him nonetheless. He might be crazy, but he's not completely stupid if he can unite so many people under his banner, albeit temporarily. As I grow stronger, he might be able to realize I wasn't lying. What if he tells anyone? Keeping my secret is of critical importance to me."

"I say take the risk," she insisted. "He might not make the connection. And if he does make it, he'll still have to wonder if you're acting. If you confirm it to him, he'll have no doubts and will be able to use it against you. You can't trust him."

Shen let a frown appear. That complicated things. Indeed, he had already told Mark the truth, but reconfirming it might bring issues.

Yet, one positive thing could be said for Mark in the end, and it mattered a lot.

"We have no reports of him ever betraying his words," he pointed out, leaving the rest unsaid; Alicia had betrayed Mark, yet Shen trusted her.

She bit her lower lip. "Please trust me in this one," she insisted further. "Nothing good will come from associating with him. When he was... well, deposed in the middle boss, he kept screaming that the army was his. He wanted people to kneel for you when you arrived. He calls you hero and whatnot. Mark's batshit crazy, and if you even talk to him, it'll only make things worse."

Shen found himself at a crossroads. Asking people to kneel for him? That was... a bit insane from what Alicia had told him of her culture. It would be okay in the Empire though.

Shen didn't want to ask the boy for secrecy, but that was the consequence of his own blunder. He had revealed his past; no one had forced him to do it.

Should he talk to Mark or not?

In the end, it was his orders that made it. The Emperor had decreed Shen ask for secrecy from anyone to whom he revealed the Empire's existence.

Shen's honor demanded he obey.

Alicia must have seen someone in his face, for she said, "I'll come with you."

They teleported away.

Mark was back in his room, pacing back and forth, biting his nail. Things were getting out of hand.

The actors were out of control. They followed no script, just kept doing whatever they wanted. Chaos in a piece created a poor narrative. Without him controlling things behind the scenes, everything would crumble.

And Feng Shen was such a marvelous hero! His backstory was perfect! Whether it was a lie or not didn't matter much to Mark; he would make sure to spread it far and wide.

A hero come from ages long lost to save humankind in its time of most need!

Someone knocked on his door. He sighed and went to open it. A few people had come to apologize already, and making them owe him for it might be helpful later.

He was dumbfounded to find Feng Shen and Alicia waiting for him.

"May we come in?" the boy asked while teleportation lights flashed in the hall.

Mark nodded while stepping sideways, and both people entered his room.

A small awkward silence followed before Alicia took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry for attacking you." Her voice was strained; she clearly didn't like doing that.

Mark wasn't surprised by her apology; he had been in the right, after all. Even an idiot could see that.

"Apologies accepted," he said. Usually, he would've milked Alicia for all he could, but showing magnanimity might be for the best here.

"I come with a request," Feng Shen said, also clearly not pleased at being here.

Mark was used to it; people knew he was their superior, and no one liked to face their own mediocrity. Idiots.

"Please, keep everything I told you about my past a secret," the Asian requested.

Mark squinted his eyes. Was the boy regretting his backstory? Did he want to create a cooler one? Sure, Mark could work with that.

He could think of at least five better backstories anyway. Better than perfection. Feng Shen would genuinely shine.

"Alright," Mark agreed immediately, then continued, "with one condition."

Feng Shen frowned ever so slightly. "What do you require?"

"I want in into your team," Mark stated.

The boy started shaking his head, but Alicia interjected. "We have a condition too." Her companion looked surprised at her, but she ignored him and continued, "You must let the system heal you. Completely. We want to hear you say the words. And if the system won't do it, the deal is off."

Mark chuckled. He knew the system making him less unique would diminish his brilliance. Yet he had always known he might need to do that to get into some multiverse organizations or rise through their ranks. There were all sorts of requirements and prejudice when applying to a job on Earth, and he doubted the multiverse would be any different.

This body was just a tool; he cared not for it. That the grey matter of the tool could affect him was unfortunate but acceptable. He doubted he would change much no matter what; he was Mark Williams, and that was it.

He would lose realization of how much more remarkable than everyone else he was, but he was okay in doing that to further his goals.

"Deal," he said. "System, I accept your healing."

The same window he had seen back on Earth appeared in front of him.

Multiverse Alliance's Gift

The Multiverse Alliance offers free healing to all living humans at the time of Earth's integration.

As such, you can be healed once for each ailment you had at said time.

We have already healed your physical conditions, but we need your permission to heal:

- Narcissistic personality disorder

- Obsessive-compulsive disorder

- Dissociative disorder

- Mild psychopathy

Do you want to proceed?

This offer will remain for one hundred Earth years.

"Yes, please heal me of everything," he said while smiling at Alicia.

Blue light surrounded him for a few moments.

Then the world shifted.

The first thing Mark felt was a crushing pressure on his heart. He fell to his knees as overwhelming sadness and despair hit him all at once.

Three memories surfaced, unbidden. The first was the same which the Void had made him recall not long ago.

'Don't cry, Mimi,' his older sister said on her deathbed. He was eight, and she was a bald thirteen-year-old bookaholic with terminal cancer. 'I was fated to be just a minor character in your story. Minor characters don't matter. Live long and strong, a glorious protagonist life. Don't let yourself down for me.'

That was a sweet memory he had prized all his life. It had led his entire being. It had pushed him forward when nothing else could.

But then came another memory he had completely forgotten about.

Mark's sister was dying, and he found it hard to care much for it. However, he was smart enough to know he should care, so he pretended. He believed that if he acted sufficiently, he might believe it himself. Then he would be able to smile easily like everyone else.

He had been walking through the house when he noticed the door to her room was half-closed. His mother was inside, though he couldn't see anything of her but her feet. Leyla, his sister, was on the bed, tubes on all her body.

'You made us not give that little monster to adoption,' his mother said. 'We did it because you're netting us enough money with your disease. But you better find a way to put him under our control, or we'll throw him away as soon as you're gone.'

His mother stormed off. She glanced at him, knew he had heard, but didn't care one bit. His sister started crying silently.

Mark didn't care about either woman, but he felt gratitude right then. He understood enough about the world to know an orphanage wouldn't give him new clothes and as much food. Leyla was protecting him.

He couldn't protect her, he couldn't heal diseases, but he could do something for her.

Give her justice.

He would probe. If Leyla wanted their mother to live, she would live. For now.

But as soon as Leyla was gone—and she had told him she would be leaving for a faraway place soon—he would get rid of the witch. It would make him go to the orphanage anyway, but Leyla deserved repayment.

And he wanted to do it too, he realized.

For the first time in his life, he was sad and angry and wanted to hurt someone.

His strange feelings demanded release.

"A— Ah—" he mumbled, crying but incapable of uttering sentences.

The dissociative disorder had come from blocked memories. They were now unblocked.

They hurt in a way he had never hurt before.

The witch was sleeping; Mark, standing beside her, was not.

A blade found the soft flesh of a neck in the night.

He felt nothing but satisfaction as he saw her drown in her own blood.

Memories of an orphanage flashed before him. It turned out it wasn't so terrible. Not being afraid to hurt even the bigger boys gave him an advantage, but it was there that he found the power of words. They could bring him so much when used well. The boys or the caretakers all bent to his will.

It was also when he realized sometimes he talked about things that scared people. It was alright. Fear was a good fallback tool too.

Before getting healed, he had forgotten all about his mother. He had thought his sister and he had been raised at an orphanage. He had deluded himself.

The world spun faster and faster as more and more memories forced themselves to be acknowledged, and new, powerful, terrible feelings flooded his heart.

At last, he fainted, welcoming the cold embrace of darkness and temporary oblivion.

"What the fuck just happened?" Alicia asked.

Shen shook his head. He had no idea. "He's not dead since he didn't turn into light," he said. "Anyway, I guess we have time to talk as we wait for him to wake up." He still needed to confirm with Mark if they had a deal, so he couldn't leave yet.

He hadn't liked that she had decided to give Mark a condition to join them without asking his opinion, but he supposed he had also been about to deny him without asking for hers. They were friends; she wasn't his subordinate. He had almost forgotten that.

So he let that go and asked, "What are your plans for when you leave the tutorial?"

"Are we seriously just ignore the collapsed guy on the floor?" Alicia asked.

"Why not?"

"Because of basic human decency, that's why not!" Using her F- strength, she struggled just a little to grab Mark and put him on the bed.

"Oh," Shen realized his blunder.

He had been taught to leave an unconscious cultivator where they were unless you were a healer. You never knew how they might react to being touched or what sort of defensive artifacts might automatically activate.

It bothered him to see a female so blatantly touch a male, even to help. She could've avoided too much contact if she had wanted or asked him to do it. Alas, their different cultures clashed again.

"Now, we can talk," Alicia said. "I recall what you wanted to ask: my origin and my plans. I'm from New York City, in the state of New York, in the US. And after I leave, I want to follow you." She smiled.