How the hell did he have -15 Karma? [Hand of Karma] only cost a single point of Karma, and he had his full 10 positive points at the time of using the Skill. Apparently, he had just lost nearly 25 Karma from a single Skill. What were even the consequences of having so much negative Karma?

He didn’t have time to think as the announcer descended from the sky once more, landing right next to Alistair in a puff of dust. “Unbelievable! What a truly remarkable performance from the first group of contestants! The crowd cannot believe their eyes!”

The announcer was right. The audience was going wild, surpassing the volume of the initial cheers.

“Typically, the first batch is thrown against an opponent far beyond their capabilities, a pre-ordained failure for the audience’s spectacle. Yet you overcame Kellus Bratevella with surprising ease. What was it that allowed you to counter the Chaosbeast Bloodline’s Fate-warding Skill?”

Blood still trickled down his stomach and torso from where the crystal impaled him. The announcer’s question broached something he really didn’t want to mention to a universal audience, so he did his best athlete dodge.

“I think we just got really lucky, you know? But this was a team effort, I wouldn’t have been able to land the final blow without the help of Kevan Macadeen and his allies, and the brave orcs and elves who distracted Kellus.”

“And he’s humble too! Now, the audience is dying to know more about you, the first breakout star of this series. Can you let trillions sitting at home watching into the head of Alistair Tan?”

Alistair smiled at no one in particular, hoping the camera was picking it up. He needed his Charisma to put in some work. “I’m just trying to survive and make it back home. I bet many people watching can relate to feeling like a cog in the machine, aspiring for something greater. Now that I’ve been given this amazing opportunity, I promise I won’t squander it. Thanks for the support, and I won’t let you down!”

He did a double-handed air kiss for the crowd. It felt really dumb, but assuming that the Final Frontier Empire’s culture was similar enough to Earth’s, he hoped it would work.

“What a nice kid,” the announcer said. “I’m sorry, folks, but that will be all from Alistair for now. We have to move on to the next batch of matches! After the first match, the next matches will be streamed simultaneously on twenty different channels. If you have a Mental Divider, all rights reserved by the Akata Corporation, you can watch all twenty at the same time!”

The announcer snapped his fingers, and Alistair found himself in a hospital that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Earth. The only difference was the technology was far more sophisticated, or it at least appeared that way. People were being bussed around on self-driving floating beds, and doors and passages opened out of nowhere in the white walls.

“If you need medical attention, the front desk will take you.” A strip of white around the ceiling of the hospital glowed whenever the detached voice spoke. “Treatment is free of charge. Enjoy your stay at the Lykanean Sanatorium, franchised location within the Dreyar’s Alchemist Guild consortium. Transportation for your next taping will occur in 24-36 hours, also free of charge. In the meantime, the complimentary pass stamped on your souls allows free lodging at any 3-star or less hotel.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to actually do it,” Kevan said. He looked a bit tired but had no other injuries. The orcs and elves left right away, not bothering to talk to the humans.

“Wait, so if I’m understanding this right, you went in there expecting to die?” Alistair asked, remembering the words of the announcer.

“Of course,” Larsa said. “The first match is a great honor, but yes, we all expected to die. I thought you knew that.”

“I had absolutely no idea. Why couldn’t you just leave? Are we forced to fight?”

Latez gave him an incredulous look. “I apologize for my omission of the basic facts. I had forgotten your planet is woefully undereducated.” The stolid Magus almost looked exasperated. “It would be a shame beyond words to flee from participation. We and our families would lose untold face. In turn, that makes the fact we succeeded beyond remarkable. It marks only the second time in the last hundred years that the first match ended up in a success for the fellows as opposed to the felons. Usually, the contestants are middle-of-the-road cultivators, to better ensure the victory of the felon.”

“Middle of the road,” Alistair muttered. He supposed his rank wasn’t as good as it could be, but he was still in the top 0.00001% of the world. Speaking of rank, Alistair checked the System Store, happy to see that, with a level up, his rank had shot up all the way to #701. “Well, we proved them wrong, didn’t we?”

“You might have won some PR points, but most people will view what happened as a fluke,” Larsa said. “And honestly, I’m inclined to agree.”

“My partner means to say that you did a wonderful job,” Kevan said, jabbing Larsa in the shoulder. “Do you require medical assistance?”

Alistair looked down at his wounds, which were already closing. His health was at 250/328 and he didn’t feel like he was in any danger. “I think I’m good.”

“Why don’t we go celebrate our victory then? I took out my life insurance deposit early, expecting to die, so I have a decent chunk of drachma.”

Alistair was in the mood for some relaxation after the battle. While he felt righteous in defeating Kellus, who clearly was an evildoer of cosmic proportions, he felt that it didn't resonate as much with his Dao as he would have expected. Alistair wasn't sure exactly what it was, but something about the contrived nature of being pitted against Kellus for entertainment felt wrong. Also, it was a perfect opportunity to gather intel. He had so many burning questions that he thought he might explode. A nobleman like Kevan should know more than any person he had encountered on the Pathfinder AI and the Final Frontier Empire.

“We need to get changed. You especially.” Kevan pointed at Latez. “What is that beard and ponytail, man? That fashion is so last millennium. Only the Progenitor Clans still dress like that, and that’s because they’re the Progenitors.”

“The people of my homeworld are the direct descendants of Karsus el Nassar.”

“Uh-huh. A bastard line doesn’t count,” Larsa said.

“In any case, you all are welcome to join us at the local tavern,” Kevan said. “But I am serious about the change of clothes.”

The city was a weird mixture of ancient Chinese and cyberpunk. Giant pagodas and skyscrapers shared equal amounts of the horizon, and zooming hovercars and holographic advertisements packed the streets. Alistair would have guessed he was in a sci-fi movie if he wasn’t living it in the flesh. All he knew for certain was that he was definitely not on Earth anymore.

He still had 30 Upgrade Points to put to use, including the 15 from the last level up. In the end, he put them toward the Communion of Spirit Branch, to the Solid Spirit leaf. Alistair reasoned the arena possessed the echoes of powerful warriors, but his current [Ghost Whispers] wasn’t powerful enough to specify individual beings. With the Solid Spirit leaf, he could identify spiritual imprints and potentially even actual ghosts who rejected the call of the afterlife.

At first, he wanted to stay in the hospital, to wait for Sofia or Alexandra or someone else he knew, but Kevan explained that with the gigantic number of participants, they could be anywhere on the planet, so it wasn’t worth it. They would have a chance to reunite after the second round, once the competition whittled down to under a thousand contestants.

Latez abandoned the group, saying that such frivolities were not appropriate for a cultivator. The planet Latez called home tended on the old-fashioned side, harkening back to a time when cultivators were expected to be prim and have untouchable reputations. The time scales of the Final Frontier Empire were beyond any human creation on Earth, but it didn’t mean that things didn’t evolve or change.

Kevan seemed to know his way around the city, confidently traversing back alleys and shouting at slow pedestrians. He would have been right at home back in a city on Earth… which was Alistair’s biggest curiosity.

“How is everything so similar?” Alistair asked as he ruffled a pair of robes he just changed into.

“What do you mean?” Kevan studied Alistair’s change of clothes intently, giving it a thumbs up.

“I haven’t had much time to think about it, but even the presence of humans in the universe makes no sense. Is all of science and the 4.5 billion history of the planet false? Even if humans exist on other planets, I don’t understand how our cultures could be so similar.”

“I forgot you’re from a completely uncontacted planet,” Kevan said. “What scientists have divined about the history of your planet is most likely accurate. What you were missing is that the grand history of the Multiverse works through archetypes found in the Dao. Humans and human culture are just one of the innumerable archetypes that exist. Creatures like orcs, elves, and lizardfolk are also common. Life that goes along the human path tends to not stray too far apart in terms of culture, though with the sparsity of the Dao and Mana on your planet pre-initiation, it created a strange result.”

“Indeed,” Larsa said. “Your choice of clothing is peculiar and unlike anything I’ve seen in the Final Frontier Empire.”

Alistair fished for more info with how talkative Kevan was being. “Can you explain more about the Multiverse? And the Pathfinder AI? Is it some kind of god?”

Kevan and his friends started laughing.

“A god? That’s a good one,” he said. “As if that buggy heap of junk could be called a god.”

“The Final Frontier Empire purchased the Pathfinder AI from the Sublimed Machine millions of years ago. The only problem is, we have the lowest possible tier product, and there’s no way we could afford the next tier up. As you get to higher levels, it becomes useless, or you have to spend a hefty chunk of change for a personal upgrade,” Larsa explained. “There’s a reason it’s called the Final Frontier Empire; we’re literally at the edge of the Multiverse. Your planet is hidden from the Dao because of how close it is to Chaos, the eternal storm of darkness that surrounds all of creation.”

“So let me get this straight. You’re saying the Final Frontier Empire is at the bottom of the Multiversal totem pole?” Alistair asked.

“Indeed, my friend. We’re classified as a weak grade-4 polity on account that the Emperor is our only Exalted realm cultivator,” Kevan said.

One of the archers, named Taikos, said, “In terms of the realms of cultivation, it goes Foundation, where we are, Adept, Domain, Profound, Visionary, Exalted, Ascendant, Divine, and finally, Truthseeker. You’d have a better chance of hitting an atom a light-year away than reaching Truthseeker. And even then, the peak is still higher. There are rumors that there are levels even beyond Truthseeker, but in these parts, we’d have no way of knowing.”

“Before being initiated, my father’s planet had a sparse amount of Mana, impeding our progression. For us, it’s been almost a year since the Pathfinder AI arrived. Just goes to show you how important being Premium tier is for fast improvements. You’re being subsidized at an insane rate,” Kevan said.

“Wow, I think I’m starting to understand. I hope I won’t have to keep slaying monsters forever, though,” Alistair said.

Kevan shook his head. “Once we reach level 30, we will have to undergo a trial to form a soulcore. After that point, you can level up merely by absorbing the ambient Mana of the universe and concentrating it within your core. Of course, killing is always a popular path to eternity.”

“Sorry, I just have one more question,” Alistair said as they walked out of the clothing store decked out in new robes. “You might not understand what I’m talking about, but what about Daoism and reincarnation? I feel like I’ve seen a ton of references to them, and I’m wondering if they’re a part of the Dao archetypes you mentioned previously. Like is Budd—”

They barely made it out on the street before Larsa put her hand over Alistair’s mouth. “Are you trying to draw Heaven's attention?”

“What?!” Alistair said through her hand. Everyone nearby gave them a large berth, looking up to the sky as if they were about to be smited. After a few seconds of nothing happening, he saw Kevan and the others breathe easier.

“You don’t talk about that without special permission,” Kevan said. “Heaven is always watching.”

“So I can’t mention that, got it.” Alistair felt a bead of sweat drip down his forehead. Why did things have to be so complicated? “Any other life-threatening ontological consequences I need to be aware of from just saying a word?”

“Not that I can think of.” Larsa glanced above one last time. “And it’s not just your life that is in danger. If you get your Karmic balance messed up, you could spend a trillion years in a tribulation hell before being reincarnated. I hope your planet has a conception of what THAT means.”

Alistair nodded. Though he did wonder, about the Karmic balance part, what that meant for him with his -15 Karma. If he died, would he go to hell? He didn’t plan on dying soon, but it couldn’t hurt to bring that number back into the positives.

“On a lighter note, I think we’re ready to go out!” Kevan announced. “We have even more reason to celebrate! Let the Macadeen Clan forever praise the mercy of the Heavens!”

Alistair learned some more about the structure of the Final Frontier Empire from Kevan as they took a floating train made entirely of Mana to the tavern. The leader of the Empire was the thirteenth Fell Emperor Dragus Laketor, of the Laketor founding line. The Empire contained thirteen fiefs, each ruled by a prince, and each fief was split into several duchies, and each duchy into several provinces. That made Kevan the lowest rung of noble that controlled an administrative district. There were other types of nobles, but at a subdistrict level.

The array of 88 Progenitor Clans contrasted the bureaucratic system of the landed gentry. Kai Arcos Laketor, the first Emperor, was joined by eighty-eight men and women in discovering the universe they would later come to control. The descendants of those eighty-eight made up the original rulers of the Empire, but over time, their power waned. Now, only four of the thirteen princes were from the Progenitor Clans, and many of them were even relegated to being ducal lords. The Progenitors still held power at court and carried ancient cultivation secrets, but the new line of nobles was quickly rising.

There was even a third competitor, other than the new nobles and the Progenitor Clans: the corporations. During Dragus’s reign, an economic system Alistair recognized as capitalism back on Earth became more popular. The big names, like the Akata Corporation, Dreyar’s Alchemist Guild, Feiyn Goods, and many more, were under a million years old, fairly young in the grand scheme of the Empire, which had lasted just under one hundred and fifty million years.

Due to the Emperor being an entire realm of cultivation higher than anyone else, the Imperial Family was a faction in and of itself, despite being under a thousand people. The internal politics and strife of the Empire, with no competitors in their universe, were central to its existence. Sometimes the Emperor would side with the corporations against the new nobles, and sometimes the new nobles would side with the Progenitors against the Emperor. For the most part, things were balanced.

Kevan explained the intricacies of court life with a smile on his face. The nobleman was at home discussing politics, his family clearly having prepared him well. Alistair suspected the shock of nearly dying made him appreciate life all the more. Alistair, who had nearly died at least three times in the last week, was less affected.

They arrived at the tavern in under thirty minutes, flying across the city on their spectral ride. Alistair wasn’t sure he could properly describe the building they arrived at as a tavern; it was as tall as the nearby skyscrapers, a giant pagoda that mixed classical and futuristic styles, complete with Mana billboards and projections. Loud music boomed from inside, just like a club back on Earth.

“We’re on Faxor, a city planet near the Imperial Core,” Kevan said. “If we were any closer to the core, the Dao shielding would cost too much.”

Alistair started to ask Kevan what Dao shielding was, but he stopped himself as he felt an inauspicious feeling overcome him. He didn’t dare use any more Karma, but he would have bet his life if he activated [Eyes of Truth] dozens of black lines of Fate would be pointing to him.

He foresaw everything but was powerless to stop it. His limbs moved in accordance with the line of Fate in front of him. One careless step and he toppled over. What were the chances of him tripping with his improved proprioception? One in a hundred thousand? It didn’t matter as he found all of his weight falling on top of a woman in front of him in line.

“I’m so sorry,” Alistair said, quickly getting up. He had landed on top of a beautiful young lady, an unusual variant of human with pitch black skin with glowing white veins.

“Excuse me?” a man said. He helped the woman up from the ground, clearly of the same species as the woman. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Alistair groaned internally. His negative Karma was coming back to bite him.