“How peculiar. The male sex organs for humans remain on the outside.”

John’s eyes shot open at the sound of Xanhilt’s voice. Naked as the day he was born, John sat up quickly to cover himself.

His body didn’t agree with the sudden movement. The room spun in his vision, and a raging headache rampaged through his skull. The hangover unbalanced him, but it didn’t stop him from reaching out for something else to help cover him other than his own hands.

His hand clapped on a warm and bouncy surface.

“Again?” Noname droned while facedown next to him. She was just as naked. “Gimme five more minutes. If I don’t die by hangover.”

John took his hand back and used it to continue covering his crotch. “Xanhilt!” Ow, ow, ow, hangover. “Dude, you can’t just stare at a guy’s junk like that.”

Xanhilt’s eyelids blinked upward and to the side like an alien reptilian. “But I was merely making an observation. Besides, if you wanted to protect your modesty, you would be layered in a sleeping robe.”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s just… I was drunk… and… ugh, this freaking hangover.” John grabbed the cover from around Noname’s feet and yanked it over himself.

Noname moaned, getting tugged against John’s side without being covered. She wriggled about, remaining facedown.

Xanhilt observed her, too. “Well, other than some differences, the female anatomy between our races share similar positions for male entry. However, I do fear for Noname’s life. Her body is so puny compared to saurian females. How would she have enough room to produce your clutch of eggs before laying them?”

“Birthing egg death,” Noname groaned. “What a sucky… demise.”

John shared the cover, throwing it over the girl’s backside. Looking around the guest quarters, he found radiant sunlight beaming through the portholes. It was so bright it seared his eyes and made the hangover worst. John covered his face, groaning from the torment.

“Why are you standing perfectly fine when we all drank a lot last night?” John grumbled.

“Miss Betsy shared her remedy for curing hangovers. It was beneficial since we went from drinking [Good] quality to [Great] quality. The latter is a rank above ours which is why it’s overpowering to our resilience right now.”

“She shared that with you?”

“Indeed!” Xanhilt exclaimed happily, making John and Noname groan in unison. “We’ve discussed a lot of things last night, bridging the gap between our races. I dare say that she might even like me, though I had to brave some of the stories she had about the atrocities my kind has committed here. My burden to bear, of course. Regardless of that, I’m rested well enough to ensure that you two are ready to face the new day.”

Xanhilt flashed a smile filled with razor-sharp teeth.

John squinted at him. “One, share the remedy with me. Two, what’s got you so chipper? Betsy didn’t do anything magical to you, did she?” I played just enough games to know about a spell called charm. What if she said something nasty and used that spell on him to cover it up?

The thought was kind of ridiculous. It also made John’s head hurt more. Besides, John didn’t take Betsy as the type to do something underhanded like that. Then again, he didn’t really know her, did he?

“I’m wonderful,” Xanhilt said dismissively. “Well, I’m still aware of my precarious position as a saurian. But the most pivotal questions I had were answered last night, including information that will prove useful for all of us, especially you. This leads me to ask what level are you.”

“Level 29 last I checked.” John checked again. “Yup. One level from 30.”

“Excellent!” Xanhilt shouted.

John and Noname groaned in unison again.

“It’s too early for this torment,” Noname said.

“I thought you could ignore pain,” John said.

“I don’t wanna ignore, I wanna sleep in bliss.”

“There is no time for that,” Xanhilt said.

“Kill me,” Noname replied.

“No time for that either.” Xanhilt balled his hands into trembling fists. He was so animated it worried John a little.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked the saurian.

“The basic knowledge of magic and the history of this world. Betsy’s words put it into my mind, so that’s what has gotten into me.” Xanhilt faced away sharply and pointed out the window where a new morning shone over Urmatia.

“So, like, you’re a believer now?” John asked.

“What? No.” Xanhilt shook his head. “Not a believer in the religious sense if that’s what you mean. What I believe is having a sense of order to the basic makeup and rules governing magic beyond just the tools we’ve been given by the game system. I’ve also come away with an idea which dawned upon me after conversing with Betsy.”

“What’s that?”

“We must gather power. Become what they deem as gods. Then change the rules.”

John looked at him hard. “That sounds more ridiculous than you becoming a religious fanatic.”

“It is the natural trajectory for us. Climb this level system. Research the deepest reaches of this world’s history. Perhaps defeat the Monster God. And most importantly, master the system of mysticism that’s been structured as part of this world’s reality. And we can start on the latter right now.”

“That sounds like studying,” John said.

Xanhilt whirled toward him. “Isn’t it wonderful? This world isn’t too primitive to forgo the scholarly pursuit! There’s even a branch of science… or magic… that combines mysticism with technology. They call it the Artifice School. Don’t you see? Everything around us isn’t random happenstance at the mercy of the gods. This ship is a creation of engineering with rules, guides, and regulations. All of this coexists the game-system itself and has records to back it.”

Noname pushed up slowly, the bed cover slipping down her back. Her hair fluffed up into frizzy black strands that made her look like a little witch. Rubbing her eyes, she dropped out of bed and stuffed a pillow into Xanhilt’s face.

“Shhhhhh,” Noname shushed.

“Fut ouf muh unzersaf ow fivofal is sssss!” Xanhilt said against the pillow.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh.”

John flopped backward, a prisoner to his hangover. It made the morning terrible, which was a shame because last night was the best night of his new life so far. When he glanced over at Noname’s bedraggled form, she didn’t seem like much right now. He knew now she was wearing a different face than the one that changed his world views last night.

This might be funny, but I think I like both of her faces. He was also lowkey happy to hear the enthusiasm in Xanhilt’s voice. It was a little disconcerting how excited he was after talking with Betsy, but it was better than the more morose saurian last night. He’s probably a fanatic when it comes to studying.

Ugh. Studying.

John covered his face with a pillow, dreading the thought of having to study. His hangover punished him further.

***

It took some convincing on Xanhilt’s part, but John and Noname eventually dragged themselves out of their guest quarters, took turns showering, and dressed up. Inside the galley, a goblin cook handed out mugs of Betsy’s special hangover no-more brew with [Great] quality. It was bitter for John. Like the nastiest tea in the world. But when his head stopped pounding, and the world around him felt still, he drank more of it.

The goblin cook held out a hand.

“I’m guessing you want a tip or something?” John asked.

The cook waited patiently as John pulled out some coppers from a pouch tied to his belt. He filled up the goblin’s hand with copper coins until the goblin nodded, satisfied.

Meanwhile, Noname disappeared down one of the passageways. John continued to nurse his tea in the mess hall while Xanhilt pushed his nose in a book he’d borrowed from Betsy. He flipped through the pages quickly, humming with delight.

It made John wonder if Xanhilt was an ace in his old world when it came to academics. A part of John was a little envious of the saurian since school had always been a struggle for him. Being stuck in a classroom while forced to read boring books was not what he would call a good time. With that in mind, John figured learning about his new world might spice things up at least.

Noname returned, sliding into a seat next to John. “I paid Dolala her tribute. They have a shrine dedicated to the hero gods at the front.”

John looked at her strangely until he remembered the final bit the system notifications talked about last night. His heart nearly sank into his stomach since he had totally skipped over the use of protection.

Noname poked his cheek, catching him off guard. “It should be okay. I paid a good amount. If not, raise my eggs like they’re your own when they burst out of my belly.”

Xanhilt shook his head at them. “This is so irresponsible of you two, especially you, John. A male of your caliber should at least uphold standards for Noname to pass.”

“It took about three days for me to get into his pants.” Noname tapped her chin. “We better protect John, or else everyone will think he’s easy and try to tap that.”

“If you mean having pleasurable reproduction practices, then yes, that’ll be terrible,” Xanhilt said raspily. “Father did tell me males that appear easy lose their sense of selves and are run ragged by domineering females. I would hate for that to happen to you, John.”

John raised his hand, bringing the conversation about him to himself. “I think I can handle myself, guys.”

“But can you handle all of my eggs if I wasn’t the responsible one?” Noname said dryly.

John’s mouth flapped open and closed.

***

Breakfast was scrambled eggs, bacon slices, thick sausage links, toast, and more of the bitter tea. Other than the special hangover be-gone brew, the meal was scrumptious and made John sigh in pleasure. He even saw a glint of a smile on Noname’s face as she rested her head on her arms. Obviously, Xanhilt was more than happy with the plates of meat brought over.

Once they let breakfast settle in their stomachs, Noname offered the idea to pile their loot together and sort it out. It would also give John a chance to see what the gods had gifted him for making a huge impact on the battle yesterday. Just as they left the mess hall, they saw Betsy coming down the hall across from them.

The trio stopped at once. John’s eyes widened at the leather and steel strapped to Betsy’s form. It was like a fantasy knight’s armor with sharp edges, gauntlets that ended with claws, and boots with a bladed point to them. Her helm had an open visor and silvery horn pointing out above that. The set of armaments shared a theme, including the wicked battle axe she held in her steel-clad hand: [One-Horned Diablo Armor, Superior].

“Ah, you three younglings. I got work for you later.” Betsy rested her [One-Horned Diablo Battle Axe, Superior] on her shoulder. “It wouldn’t look good if I let you laze about on my ship.”

“I thought we were guests.” John flashed her his winning smile.

Betsy smiled back. “You are guests at night. But during the day, you’re also my charges, little puncher.”

John’s smile shrank.

“Hm, [Superior] quality. That’s the equivalent of a Rank 4 hero. But you are a Rank 6,” Xanhilt commented.

“Quality gear for my rank stops being the cool stuff you find. It becomes what you can create and enchant from the most bizarre of materials. That’s when you start seeing girls walk around in bathing suits made from special spider silk and can go out tanking hits from behemoths.”

“Magic pajama armor, here I come,” Noname said.

Betsy chuckled. “Being a high-quality magic seamstress pays in the later ranks. And the fashion scene has gotten closer to what you’ll find from the old world.”

That explains her outfits from yesterday, John thought. Someone would have to recreate that for her here.

“So what’s with this getup?” John asked.

“PR stuff, you get me? Upstairs called down for it, and this is one of those occasions where I can’t say no. It’s to present the idea that you’re in a new fantasy world to your peers,” Betsy said with a sigh. “We still got younglings who haven’t made it to town. With this stage cleared, any more that show up will be in town, but we gotta go secure the ones who had started in the mist like y’all.”

That sounded like a big deal to John. “They should be safe, right?”

“Eh.”

John clenched his jaw.

“When the mist takes over an area, most creatures that were there prior will slip into another plane reserved for them,” Xanhilt explained. “It is a function developed by Bastulus, the God of Nature, Hunting, and Security, one of the more reserved gods apparently. Through him, a safe harbor is possible, and why we’ll find everything we need there. It is also safe to assume now that this island is secured, the beasts that went away will return fully.”

“Well, I’ll be damn,” Betsy said. “Someone’s been paying attention to my yammering.”

Xanhilt beamed.

“With the mist gone, does that mean we’ll see other threats?” Noname asked.

“Low-level beasts that are neutral, yeah. Nothing that’ll truly trouble us. But for anyone who isn’t on the giddy-up like us, that’ll still be a danger to them,” Betsy said.

“When do we head out?” John asked.

“We’re already on our way,” Betsy said. “Flying ship, remember? We’re moving to the center of this island before we set down. I’ll have my crew magic up some flares, prepare a compass stone, link our minds to keep up to date with each other thru telepathy, then we’ll go spread out and find your peers.”

Whoa, there’s a lot that goes into this. It almost sounded like a real search and rescue mission to John. Like being in the military.

“Are we deploying now?” John asked.

“In about an hour and a half,” she answered. “My crew needs time to prepare the compass stone and telepathy spell. They’re new at this, but I thought it’ll be fun raising up a clan of goblins from nothing to something.”

“Interesting,” Xanhilt commented.

“I’ll say,” John said.

Betsy chuckled.

“So, that means we’ll have enough time to sort through the loot,” Noname added.

“And I can start teaching them what you told me last night, Miss Betsy,” Xanhilt said excitedly. “If it isn’t too late, we can develop John’s magic sense.”

Magic sense? John wondered what that would lead to. He was also curious about how much loot he had at this point.

“Meet me on the top deck in an hour and a half then,” Betsy said. “I’ll have my goblins bring you guys some [Good] quality armors and leathers. Wanna look the part, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” John said. The others agreed.

Parting ways from Betsy, John, and his friends hurried back to their guest quarters. It looked like they had another full day ahead of them.