Blackthorne looked out from the sea of grass to take in the sight of a decent sized lake. It was not one of the tremendously large lakes, such as the Great Lakes back on Earth, but he could not easily see the other side. "That thing's at least a couple of miles across... Plenty of room to find some useful grass."

Of course, there was something going on that he did not bet on previously. There were several groups of people wandering around the area, each group having a minimum of three people while most had four or five.

Only a few of those individuals were fishing at the moment, the remainder were busy cutting as much of the grass as they possible could. "Actual competition for once?" he asked lightly.

Uncertain were to start, Blackthorne meandered off to the right a bit and chopped a bit of grass with his sword. The lustrous green tint of the grass was familiar, but no useful tidbit of information popped up to verify anything for him. So, He sat about making a ring. Once he was done he realized that this was indeed the place to find his grass.

"This stuff is everywhere," he said a slight smile coming to his lips. Verdant grass was easy enough to acquire. However, something about the way the other groups gathered it unnerved him. There seemed to be one heavily armed and armored person from each group who did nothing but look at either the lake or the grassland. Occasionally, they would look to the other groups but mostly they kept their eyes to the lake or grassland.

About an hour after Scott arrived, he heard someone shout a panicked warning. "Don't get close to the water!"

He looked up just in time to see a strangely shaped fish hurl itself out of the lake and onto the lakeshore. It was a good distance away but he was certain that the thing looked to be a mostly hairless cat with fish fins, a limp mane, and oversized paws.

"Catfish!" cried the same voice as before. A somewhat frantic sounding musical score began to play in the distance, its sonic exuberance barely reaching him despite the fact that he was close enough to clearly see what was going on.

The catfish unleashed a gurgling sound that became a feline roar. Everyone close by to freeze in place. Blackthorne saw them trembling as they remained unable to move. Several other groups began to converge on the area, but their members pulled out bows.

Several dozen arrow shots later, the cat began to paw and hiss at everyone while withdrawing toward the water. The feisty feline was only hit a few times, but it already had enough. The grass cutters won the day without significant loss of life.

"Note to self, don't go near the water..." said Blackthorne lightly before he turned back to his own work.

Twenty sheaves of grass was incredibly easy to come by given the wide berth that people had given his side of the lake. It seemed that most folk worked the other side of the lake that day. Only Blackthorne was the odd man out. After having witnessed the dread power of the catfish, he suspected that it was a tactic they used so that they could easily receive help.

He bound his sheaves together with makeshift grass ties then shoved them into his bags. Most of his carrying capacity was taken up by that load, but it was fine. He collected another twenty sheaves and set out on his trip back to town. The other grass cutters could keep the catfish. He had other fish to fry that day.

Half the morning passed before he finished his business at the general store, at least he believed it complete due to the loud *Wha-Ping* he heard. The exchange had taken a while as he was forced to reorganize his sheaves until the store owner approved of them and he received his payment. Sixty jerin richer, he returned to his room to complete his other task.

The process of making vita grass sprigs was rendered much simpler by the acquisition of verdant grass stems to make rings. The individual leaves might also be useful for experimentation as they did hold mild healing properties.

However, it was not until several hours passed and his synergy skill improved further that he noticed something wonderful. The cost of his life force per final push to create a sprig of vita grass had decreased slightly. Skill, and familiarity, did have its place after all.

"Synergy is already at sixteen... Between the upgrades and the constant usage, it might even hit rank twenty before I gain another level," said Blackthorne. A slight frown crossed his lips a moment later. "Doubt it'll increase again before I finish these last two sprigs though..."

Blackthorne's frown slowly slipped away and he began to concentrate on his task once more. The situation was both wonderful and frustrating simultaneously. On the one hand, his skill-level with synergy rose at a breakneck speed compared to everything else. On the other hand, he still floundered about here and there while trying to figure out where he stood in this new life. He sincerely did not want to spend his new life as a grass craftsman. He wanted to adventure and delve into the secrets of the world.

There was one thing to do at the moment. He must finish his task. There were more sprigs of grass to craft.

The day wore on and night was nearly upon him before he finished the task to his satisfaction. In truth, it would have been completed much sooner had he the necessary life force to craft his items at a greater speed. His down time between synergy efforts was the biggest limiting factor now that he had easy access to the needed base materials.

Tired in a way that bespoke his true body's desire to awaken in the real world, Blackthorne trudged down the stairs. He could push to remain asleep longer, and would do so, but he was absurdly well-rested from his last long term stint in the dream world. Given the timing of recent events, he'd been asleep at least nine hours. If he made it to midnight in the dream, he would be absurdly fortunate.

He found Scraggles at his counter as usual, and presented the man ten sprigs of vita grass. Scraggles eyed them carefully for a moment then nodded. "Not bad. One of them is almost medicine quality."

Blackthorne nodded to him, a tired expression in his eyes. "I'm glad that you like them."

Scraggles offered him a slight grin then called out for Jackie to come to the front. The slave chef appeared in her customary non-existent clothing. Her only covering was a stray strand of her golden blond hair was pressed artfully to her forehead, and her traditional apron.

"Your boyfriend brought us some vita grass sprigs. Since you're almost done with your shift, you should knock off for the night after you put them in storage," said Scraggles.

Jackie granted him a sour expression then sighed. "I have a knife you know."

Scraggles laughed cheerfully at her then looked to Blackthorne. "I'll go get your money, so you two love birds can be alone."

Blackthorne quirked an eyebrow and the man laughed lightly once more. Scraggles left to go retrieve the promised reward, and the armored dreamer looked over to Jackie. "We're love birds?"

"You should be so lucky..." she muttered. Jackie lifted her kitchen knife and waved it menacingly. "Besides that, weren't you supposed to give me my reward?"

"That was next on the agenda, yes," said Blackthorne. "Had to try and avoid becoming homeless over the last two days."

Jackie gave him a quick glance then tapped her lips with the tip of the knife. "Well, it's a fairly simple requirement."

"What did you want me to pay you?" he asked her curiously. "If it's a lot, it could take a few weeks."

She snorted at him then stepped closer, her expression a mixture of calmness and anger that left an overall strange impression on the man. "Oh? You think you'll get off with just paying a bit of money, do you?"

"What do you mea—" began Blackthorne only to have their conversation interrupted by a fat man who wore a suit three sizes too small. "Hey, Jackie-Jack, howzza bout another weekend special?"

Jackie leveled a piercing stare at the man. "No," she said coldly. "I have other arrangements."

"Hey girl, don't be like that," said the fat man. He ignored Blackthorne's presence and pressed inward. "You know you love it."

The fat man's finger rose up to try and grab her hair, only to be swatted down by a lightly armored hand. "The lady said no," replied Blackthorne in an equally cold tone. However, the expression in his eyes was more akin to that of a serpent about to strike.

"Who's this stupid git?" asked the fat man. He rounded on Blackthorne and poked him in the chest. "Don't you know who I am?"

"I don't give a damn who you are," replied Blackthorne without a hint of malice or fear in his tone. His words might as well have been spoken by a lifeless machine.

"Wazzat?" asked the fat man drunkenly. "I'll have you arrested!"

"With what tongue will you shout for the guard?" inquired Blackthorne in that same emotionless voice. "If yours keeps wagging at me, you'll be able to keep it in your pocket soon."

The fat man's face turned bright red and then reached a most interesting shade of purple. "You!"

Blackthorne stared at him, unmoving. No more words were said. However, the fat man eventually grunted and staggered away a little. "I won't forget this..."

"See that you don't," said Blackthorne in the same emotionless tone that he used previous.

The fat man's left eye widened even as his right eye narrowed. He drunkenly snorted at both of them then staggered away to find something else to do with his night.

Jackie frowned at him, while she ignored the fat man. "Do you think me a damsel in need of rescuing?"

Cold lifeless eyes regarded Jackie for a moment. "Not everything that happens is about you."

Her frown deepened. They remained silent for a moment, each staring into the other's eyes.

"You act like you're the most powerful thing to ever walk into this restaurant, but you're so green it hurts to look at you," she said after the moment passed.

"I've been collecting grass," said Blackthorne quietly. "Of course I'm green."

She blinked then tilted her head to the side and eyed him curiously. Not long after, she snorted in such a way that it soon became a slight laugh. "Was that an attempt at humor?"

Blackthorne leaned forward, his gaze intensifying. "Made you laugh, didn't it?"

A short snerking sound was her initial response, but soon her expression shifted to one of mild bemusement. "You're not ready to repay me, yet..."

Blackthorne's eyebrow rose slightly. He said nothing, however.

Jackie made a big production out of sighing in a dramatic fashion. "You clearly need a little training if you ever intend to properly take responsibility... You will spend the evening with me."

His eyes narrowed even as his mind began to betray him. Dark whispers entered his thoughts. "Why haven't you forced her to choke on your timid little popcorn shrimp, yet? You sick degenerate shrimp-fuck."

A slight growl escaped his lips as he fought both the voices that whispered inside his mind, and the strange new shrimp related tactic that they chose to use. "What exactly do you intend to do with me?"

Jackie cut her knife through the air and offered him a saucy wink. "Shall we work up a sweat?"