“This is report number...758-A, Barry Livingstone reporting. We got another subject for the rewire project today, some guy who was in a pretty bad car accident, and we’re being pushed to move on with stage three. And for the record, I'm not entirely comfortable with this. Stage one was kind of cool, a test to see if we could use the virtual reality to change a person’s tastes in wine, or how they felt about certain art pieces. It was neat, and it was something that’d been looked into before as a social experiment.

Stage two took it a step further, going deeper into a person’s mind. Trying to change which hand a person used, how they stood or even the language they thought in. It got... intense with some of that, the techniques bordering on torture for a few people. But i got through it, and no one remembered the more... painful sections of the training.

After recording it I wiped my own memories as well.

But stage three... some of these papers suggest what they’re looking for are physical changes, way beyond what I signed up for, and I've got to question whether it’s even legal. But the executives are just saying to get it done and not worry about that side of things. I've got to wonder though, who exactly is bank rolling this project? Because I've heard them taking orders as well, and this sort of technology doesn’t come cheap

Screw it, my contracts up in two months, I’ll put up with it till then, dump it from my memories and head to Hawaii for a few months. What I don't remember can hurt me right?

End of report.

“I take it you two aren’t the tailor’s friends, and this is just a huge misunderstanding?” Dave asked, eyeing the weapons in their hands carefully. They were clubs, little more that treated sticks with a handle, but sticks could kill just as well as knives with force behind them.

One of them stepped forward with their weapon raised with intent to rush him, but the other dwarf slammed a hand into his chest, stopping him.

“Not,” they said quietly. “While he’s by the door. You always walk into trouble like this, or did you feel like some exceptionally stupid choices today?”

“Seems like the case at the moment, but it doesn’t look like everything’s going your way either.” He said, eyes glancing around the room, seeing if there was anything he could use as a weapon if this got violent fast. The store was well kept, fabrics neatly folded away and clothing on racks against the wall. The bench by the old man’s body was flipped over, scattering the notes and designs on it over the floor. Some kind of argument maybe, he thought to himself, or a burglary gone wrong?

“We’re not the ones who’ve come in wearing nothing but a sheet.”

“Oh you’d be surprised what you can accomplish with nothing but a sheet. But let’s stick with words for now yeah? No need for things to get... well like that.” He said, gesturing to the body. “No need to make a ruckus that could draw the attention of people outside.”

The dwarf in charge growled to himself. “Dammit to hell, this isn’t how I wanted this day to go.”

Dave shrugged. “Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.”

At that, the dwarf straightened up and lowered his weapon, rubbing his eyes while swearing heavily before looking back to him. “I love that movie. So how are we gonna do this?”

The other dwarf just looked at his partner confused. “Movie? What’re you talking about Gus? Are we taking him or not?”

“Well, Terrance,” he said, glaring at having his name given away. “What he said just now is... something from where I'm from. Where we’re from.”

“So he’s like you? He keeps coming back?” Terrance said, eyes bulging slightly.

Dave nodded. “I am indeed. Which, as your friend there realised, means silencing me isn’t going to work. So let’s figure this out like the respectable people we pretend to be outside. You two here for something in particular or...?”

“People in this city are still trying to figure out how a protection racket is supposed to work, so I decided to show em the ropes. Their boss gave me this guy to work with, probably to make sure I wasn’t going to rat them out to the law around here. Unfortunately Terrance struggles to tell the difference between threats and orders, so things went badly here. What about you?”

While the dwarf named Gus was acting civilly enough, Dave kept a close eye on him, knowing things could shift at any moment.

“Had a rough day and lost pretty much everything. I was just coming in to try and find something to wear. So I can see two ways this can go. We could throw down now, and whoever survives can take what they want, while the one who died will come back for vengeance. Unless Terrance there dies.”

“What happens if I die?” Terrance asked nervously, the situation getting away from him.

“Then you stay dead, obviously.” Gus answered. “And the other way?”

“We split the money, all take what we want, such as pants, and never speak about it again. We could even start a fire to try and make it look like an accident.”

Gus shook his head. “Won’t work. Magic can deal with fires too easily. But the rest of it... agreed.”

“The Boss won’t be happy about you giving away money...” Terrance said nervously.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He said, walking towards the body.

“But I’m supposed to...”

In a single movement, Gus turned, grabbed the club from his belt and brought it down hard over Terrance’s head, dropping him like a puppet with its strings cut.

“The quality of criminals in this city is just sad. I’d planned to join them and work my way up the ranks, but now I'm thinking I may as well just make a play for the top right away.” He said, shaking his head at the dead dwarf before turning back to Dave. “I don't suppose you’d want to give me a hand?”

“You’re recruitment timing could use work.”

Gus waved him off. “They’re not real, despite what people say on the news. And real people come back, so no harm no foul right?”

“Tempting, but not really my goal here. Now should we divvy things up now? We don't want someone else to come in.”

Grinning, the dwarf wiped a bit of blood off his club on a nearby mannequin. “Nice to see someone can remain professional. In here I go by Gus, and you’re..?” he asked, offering a hand.

“Just passing through.” He replied, rejecting the hand. “Not looking to make friends right now, but hey, good luck constructing your criminal empire.”

Gus nodded slowly, dropping his hand. “Fair enough I guess, but when I rule this city, you’re gonna wish this had gone differently.”

Dave sighed. “I wish a lot of things had gone differently.”

With an agreement reached, they began to loot the building, first taking what money they could find, then moving on to what they believed to be valuable supplies. In the end, Dave ended up with eighty silver coins and a small pile of copper, while Gus took his share in a few rolls of silk that he said he could sell through a fence he knew. In addition, Dave picked out a pair of dark canvas trousers, a white cotton undershirt, a red vest and a black jacket that looked like it was one the old tailor had owned himself. He was still missing a pair of shoes, but he didn’t look like a bum anymore.

“Ok then, now, we should go. Its closing time in the market, so if anyone here’s anything fairly soon, it’ll definitely be suspicious.” Gus asked, rolling up his share in an old sheet to hide it.

“The bodies won’t be a problem?”

The dwarf hesitated. “Player bodies fade away after a while, so it hasn’t been an issue when I've mugged them, but computer people stick around. I doubt they have crime scene investigators, but magic keeps screwing with my plans.”

Dave nodded, thinking. “The old man can stay, him dead here wont draw too much attention, but we need to move Terrance.”

“Where to? No swamp about to throw a body in to. I've already looked.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“What do you mean you’ll take care of it?”

“I mean, I’ll take care of it. Don't worry about it.”

“You... fine, there’s no time and we need to go. It’s on you, so whatever happens, it’s your fault.” He said shaking his head before heading to the door. “You’d better be quick though, this part of the market is pretty much deserted after sundown, so the guards will be interested in whoever’s around.”

As the dwarf left the building, Dave waited for a minute, then collapsed to the ground, taking in deep pounding breaths, his heart still beating like mad. It had taken everything to try and remain calm in that situation, but it looked like he’d pulled it off, and become richer for it. Legs still shaking, he fumbled around the darkening store and found a small pouch that could hold his coins and tied it around his waist, making sure it was secure. From what Gus had said when he questioned him while they searched the room, people didn’t get inventories, though high level magic users could make them eventually. They cost more than the average person made in a year, so they were little more than a dream for most people.

That left him looking at two bodies lying on the floor, with no real idea of how to deal with them. As he tried to figure out how much he could actually eat in a single sitting, he wondered at how quickly he was adapting. A week ago, he’d probably scream if he saw a dead body, though he was sure it’d be a manly scream. But now he was trying to figure out how much he could eat of a person who’d been killed right in front of him.

Which was another problem he needed to address. He’d walked in here wearing a face that he planned to share with the world, and one that a murderous dwarf would recognise in the future. He needed to try and take other appearances in the future, but he wasn’t imaginative enough to come up with one on the fly. But learning songs had given him a decent enough memory...

Grabbing the dead tailor, he dragged him over and propped him up in a chair before studying his features closely, looking at how his eyes creased in the corners, the faint scar on his arm, the slight distortion in his right eye. Each detail was carefully noted until he had the image in his mind, then became it himself.

His skin warped and cracked, the signs of aging appearing rapidly, the hair on his head thinning out before greying and falling out in some spots completely. After a few minutes he looked in a mirror mounted on the wall, and could see that he now matched the old man perfectly, and began to repeat the process with the dwarf.

His body twisted, becoming shorter and denser as he made the change, before expanding out as his shoulders widened, his muscles expanding, a new beard rapidly growing out. He felt his bones cracking and folding in on themselves as they replicated the necessary framework, a feeling he doubted he’d ever get used to. Trying to lift the table in the room, he found that despite his change in appearance, he hadn’t actually become any stronger.

Going back over the conversation in his head, he tried to remember how the dwarf had sounded.

“So he’s like you? What happens if I die? The Boss won’t be happy...”

He kept repeating the phrases he’d heard, trying to dial in the exact cadence and sound until a feeling ran through his head, startling him and interrupting his thoughts. Remembering what the programmer had told him, he opened the menu to see what had happened.

New skill unlocked: Book of Faces 1.

Mockerman race only.

Lets you store a number of identities you’ve learned within the system which can be used as if by memory. Both appearance and voice will be kept.

At the current level, 10 Identities can be stored, and can be deleted to make room for more.

“Well that’s helpful.” He said, still using the dwarf’s voice. “Now how do I sneak the bodies out of here, and where am I going to put them?”