In the confines of a darkened room, narrowed eyes gazed intently at a computer monitor. Scott nodded his head slowly then with decisiveness he clicked the 'send' button. His email sent, Scott checked through the site briefly then sighed. "A gym membership with personal training costs so much..."

Scott rubbed his nose then sat back in his chair. It was not an extreme expense, the purchase of a monthly fee with occasional personal training to set him on a proper fitness track, but he worked as an entry level management type at a retail department store. His slightly above minimum wage paycheck would be stretched thin in the process, for this month at least, but it was necessary. On a side note, he did not purchase nearly as many items of entertainment due to his dream life. The money typically spent on such things could be easily rerouted to personal development. If he struggled through the month, he could find financial balance once more.

"Hopefully that will pay off... Now for other things," he said. Scott searched the Internet for a few videos on jewelry crafting and the like. Some of what he saw, he already knew. Rather, he once knew such things but his memory was fuzzy.

Chainmail crafting was something he could do, and he had even searched for such information recently as well. However, as with anything there was a certain merit in seeing multiple people attempt the same processes. Even if the process itself remained the same there were little tweaks and quirks that became apparent in the steps taken by the mail crafters.

"I see, so if I do that first..." Scott took notes and nodded. He could feel his knowledge increase, even if there were no skill experience points to gather in the real world. Further, it was not merely chainmail that he studied. He looked into ring shaping, and even into metal forging techniques.

His synergy skill accomplished most of what he needed through magic, but the more he learned regarding the basic processes of craftsmanship, the better his results might be. Synergy took something that already existed and combined it with something else. If he could improve items before he combined them, the result might be considerably better.

Before he knew it, midnight approached. Scott yawned slowly then sighed. "Should be early morning in the dream... Still dark?"

Scott shut down his computer for the night then went to take a shower and use the restroom. After cleansing his body and soul of the taint left behind by his mediocre life, he was presented with a dilemma. On the table next to his bed rested the remainder of his cough syrup.

He looked away from the bottle then slipped into bed. "I can walk just fine... Don't need so many crutches," he murmured to himself.

After his long and exhausting day, sleep claimed him quite readily. Blackthorne awoke atop his comfortable bed at the Screaming Onion.

"As one sleeps, the other lives," mumbled Blackthorne. The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips just before he rose to a seated position.

He briefly recalled the events of his work shift, an entire world away. "I think I'm bleeding over into myself a little..."

Leaping a counter was not like him, not the Scott he had grown to become. Blackthorne, though... It was possible.

"Maybe this world really is good for me," he said quietly.

Honestly, what was one hateful hat-wearing old lady when compared to screaming onions and giant scorpions? He chuckled softly then rose from his bed. "Best get started..."

Blackthorne checked downstairs and learned that Jackie was nowhere to be found. Scraggles offered him breakfast, a simple ham and eggs affair, and he had a nice meal before he set out for the day.

On the agenda for the day was nothing more than odd jobs, and the acquisition of more odd jobs. Blackthorne wanted to test a theory. While his level advancement was far behind a few individuals, he was above the bell-curve compared to many others. One thing he noted quite prominently during that times was the constant *wha-ping* noise he would hear when he completed a task or acquired a small job. His suspicions led him to believe that such noises were the result of unseen quest markers being marked on an equally invisible quest sheet.

He walked into a local grocery store and raised his hand. "Morning."

"Ah, you're here! Good morning," said the grocer. "I was hoping that you would actually show up."

"No problem. Honest work keeps a man honest," said Blackthorne in an amiable sort of way.

"Good. Good," said the grocer. "There's three deliveries today, all in town. I would do them myself but I have to take inventory and get rid of the bad produce."

"How bad is the produce?" asked Blackthorne in a curious tone.

He'd intended to make a light joke, but the grocer snorted and said, "At the moment it's fine. I have my axe. Still, when produce goes bad it's a problem for everyone."

Blackthorne nodded as though that made sense. In retrospect it made perfect sense. Vegetables and the like were quite homicidal in this world.

"Ah, the cart's busted though, remember? So, you'll have to deliver one package at a time..." said the grocer.

"No problem," said Blackthorne. "What's first?"

The grocer nodded to him then led Blackthorne to his stock room. "These ten crates need to be delivered to the guard quartermaster. You can find him by the South gate."

Blackthorne looked to the somewhat large crates then back to the grocer. He had to take ten of those big ass crates to the South gate? No wonder he couldn't find someone to help with deliveries! "Alright, I'll get started."

"Great! Let me know when you're finished. The other two deliveries won't be as much of a problem, but these crates need to be delivered before noon or I lose my contract," said the grocer.

*Wha-Ping!*

Blackthorne smiled to the man then hefted a crate. Heavy, but well within his tolerance, he set out to make his first delivery. It was a somewhat lengthy trip across town to the gate. Worse, it took him the better part of half an hour to coax the quartermaster into accepting his crates. However, once the matter was settled, he had a place to drop his load.

"Nine more of these?" he asked himself on the way back to the grocery store. If he put a little pep in his step, he might barely make it before noon.

Back and forth he went, each trip a little more exhausting than the last but somehow made at greater speed. After he finished the last delivery the quartermaster dismissed him perfunctorily, and he headed back to the grocery store.

Along the way he heard the *Wha-Ping* sound once more. The final two deliveries were of a single crate each, but to two different parts of town. One was to a restaurant, and the other was to an alchemist working on the outskirts of town near the wall.

The alchemist proved to be quite the blessing as the curmudgeonly only man groused at Blackthorne for a moment. During the grousing session it was revealed that he needed some high-quality vita grass for a potion he intended to make.

"I might be able to help you with that," said Blackthorne pleasantly.

"Unless you have a few medicine quality vita grass leaves in your pocket I don't see how you could," grumbled the old man.

Blackthorne reached into his bag and pulled out a handful of his remaining high-quality leaves. His ability to increase their potency had gone up since his earliest days. He intended to use these leaves to try and make a few potions of his own, or at least use them as a snack during hunting. However, this was an opportunity he could not waste.

"Wait, oh?" asked the man, his bushy eyebrows rising.

He inspected then leaves then snorted. "Lad, I appreciate the effort but those won't do."

"Quality's not high enough?" asked Blackthorne.

"Right. It was a nice thought, but I intend to make medicine. I have a standard to maintain," said the alchemist.

"Is it really that hard to get medicine quality vita grass?" asked Blackthorne.

"Not particularly, but it does not grow to the highest quality levels around here. Those leave of yours were obviously the product of synergy. Your own by the way they resonate with you. So, you'd know what it takes to get to that point," said the elder man. His words held far less grouchiness now that he'd seen the offer made.

"Ah, was hoping that I could help. I still have a lot of training to do before I make medicine quality items," said Blackthorne.

"You're close, but you probably don't have the best materials to work with... Though perhaps you could help me another way?" asked the elder.

"How so?" asked Blackthorne.

"Have you ever combined vita stones and shards into a vita crystal?" asked the old man.

Blackthorne pulled out his only vita crystal and showed it to the alchemist. The bushy browed man's eyes widened and he actually smiled. "Now that's useful. If you're willing to make me some of those, I would gladly pay you twenty jerin each."

"That's a bit low for a crystal isn't it? It could take me a few days, too. The owners of those stones don't like to give them up readily," said Blackthorne.

The old man chuckled at him. "No, no. There's no need to go hunting. I have plenty of shards and stones. If you can combine them into crystals that would be fine."

"Ah, if I'm using your materials then that's a fine price!" Blackthorne would not pass up such a good deal. He would have a chance to train his synergy with materials that rapidly provided skill experience, and he would not even have to hunt down the materials in the first place. He would basically be paid to train his skills!

"Excellent," said the alchemist. "Follow me."

The crotchety old man led Blackthorne to his backroom. "Get started whenever you like. I need at least ten by tomorrow though, if that is within your ability."

"Not a problem at all, though I do need to get you to sign for that grocery delivery. The grocer needs to know I did my job after all," said Blackthorne.

"When you get back then?" asked the alchemist.

"Won't take long," said Blackthorne.

True to his word, he returned to the grocer and completed his work for the day. He received fifty jerin for his efforts. It was a pittance considering the time and effort involved, but he was rewarded with a *wha-ping* and the possibility of more work in the future since he was on good terms with the grocer.

Blackthorne spent the remainder of the afternoon working for the alchemist. Given the ease in which he could restore his life force through eating or simply equipping a few rings, it was not a problem. He averaged three an hour with little effort, and pushed it to four near the end. By the time night fully settled in he'd earned two more skill levels in synergy and there were only a scattered few materials remaining.

"Done for the day?" asked the alchemist when Blackthorne came into the front of the shop.

"Yeah, you ran out of material so I figured we were done," he said cheerfully.

"Ran out of material... I easily had enough for nearly a dozen crystals. The last synergist I hired who'd work for that amount made fourteen out of that much material!" exclaimed the alchemist.

"Fourteen?" asked Blackthorne. "Why so few?"

"So few...?" asked the alchemist. "H-how many did you make, lad?"

"Twenty-three. You were a few stones shy of another..." said Blackthorne.

The alchemist's eyes lit up briefly. "Show me?"

He led the old man back to the work shop and showed him twenty-three neatly, nigh-identical vita crystals lined up in rows of five. The fifth row held only three crystals, however.

The old man nodded his approval. "I'm not sure how you did it, but that's a job well done. Most synergists and people focused on magic don't have the stamina to keep that level of production going for long."

Blackthorne understood what the old man meant readily enough. His stats were a bit abnormal due to his minor vigorous body trait, and equipment. Any low end synergist willing to take on such a task would probably have far fewer points of life force. They would no doubt focus more on charisma than vigor as their training preference. As a dreamer, he was able to pick and choose completely. More life force seemed like a better deal early on. So far, it paid off. The quality of his work might be slightly lower than a dedicated synergist at his level, but the production quantity was obviously top-shelf.

"I'll receive my monthly shipment tomorrow. If you would like, I am willing to pay you fifty jerin per crystal if you can promise me at least twenty more," said the alchemist.

"Will there be as many materials as today?" asked Blackthorne.

"About twice as much, actually. Times like now, when I can't hire a synergist, I grind the stones and shards to make more common potions," said the elder.

Blackthorne rubbed his chin. "How about this, I come in and make you twenty crystals... and you teach me a thing or two about alchemy. I acquired the most basic skill, but have never had the chance to actually practice it."

The older man offered him a snort. "I don't have time for an apprentice, but I can trade you a book I used to let my apprentice's use back when I had the patience to teach. It's easily worth more than twenty crystals, and I would still pay fifty a piece for any others made."

"Deal!" said Blackthorne with growing excitement. He stuck out his hand.

"Deal!" exclaimed the curmudgeonly old alchemist before he clasped Blackthorne's hand and shook it decisively.