The largest and most prosperous kingdom on the continent, the Idil Empire. The militaristic kingdom is in a state of perpetual war, forcing lesser kingdoms to give a tribute or fight against the Idil Empire to keep their independence. This aggressive strategy has allowed Idil to bolster their economy and crush the weak underfoot. The drain on resources from choosing either option forces lesser kingdoms into slowing their growth and expansion, or even stagnating. Certain forces deemed far too valuable or powerful to alienate, such as Elway, Garbrandt, Welton, and Wisperium are exempt from this tactic. Few can rival or surpass the kingdom’s sheer military might.

~ ‘Idil’s Stronghold on the Continent’, an essay by Lester Surtsey

Chester explored the entire house with the fluidity of an experienced thief; only wearing his underwear. The scratch and bite marks present on his skin were beginning to fade the longer his regeneration worked.

It seemed his constant use of his class skill, Change Self, had allowed it to level up.

Change Self (Level 3)

- Assume a different form. You can change body and facial features. Illusion cannot be applied if vastly different to base shape.

- 5 MP/min, No cooldown. Sustaining 50 points of damage will dispel the illusion.

It was one of his most used skills, even Invisibility was a distant second compared to the frequency at which he used the spell.

‘Maybe there’s some sort of info I can get on my class…I want to see what else I can do with it.’

Illusionist (Unique)

- A class that uses magic to disrupt, trick, and deceive opponents. 1.5x boost to INT, 1.3x boost to AGI and CHA.

He had stressed over selecting his class. At level 20, he had qualified for a dozen potential classes. Chester decided to go with what resonated with him the most, and selected Illusionist. He was certain that Unique classes were better than Rare and Normal ones.

The tattoos on his skin were noticeably absent, covered by illusion magic after the realization that such things weren’t common here in this new world. He didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention.

‘I can’t believe she actually managed to damage me enough that the illusion spell broke…good thing we were in the dark.’

The elf’s tabby cat meowed loudly and he panicked. The man inwardly listened in to see if the elf had woken up, but was relieved to hear only quiet breathing. He gave the kitten a scratch behind the ears, before moving further to find what he was looking for.

The house was small, but cozy. Simple and classy wooden furniture was the common theme throughout the house, and the assistant evidently invested most of her paycheck towards her feline. Cat toys and scratch posts were placed all around the living room.

Chester opened another door, revealing a busy office. Stacks of paperwork almost a foot high filled the desk, and he began to get to work. He worked efficiently, scanning through every paper, searching for any useful information.

After almost ten minutes, he had found the document he needed. Scanning through he discovered where the Attainium was located.

‘Jackpot!’

SHIPMENT ARRIVALS - August 25th

Augmentation Rune 1028 - Egana Warehouse

Highland Oak Wand 1029 - Egana Warehouse (DELAYED)

Kraken Blood 1030 - Corpsfield Warehouse

Marbas’ Contract Scroll 1031 - Corpsfield Warehouse

Attainium 1032 - Corpsfield Warehouse

He committed the names to memory; and kept searching to find any more useful documents. The illusionist had no clue where Corpsfield was, and hoped to find its address here.

Chester found it interesting how everything functioned so similarly to Earth. He was unsure when the address system or the months of the year were invented, but he found it unlikely that they would exist in a magical world without some form of intervention.

‘Did a human from Earth do this? Or was it present in this world already?’

Ever since his entry back into civilization, he always wondered how traces of his Earth remained here; he questioned the likelihood a human from Earth came and replicated these things, and how they went about it. The theories formulated in his mind, but vanished like foam on the waves. He decided that there was too much speculation to find anything meaningful.

‘Enough, Chester. Gotta focus on the task at hand.’

Chester’s mind did multiple tasks at once; listening to see if the elf had awakened, sifting through documents, and thinking about the mysteries of this magical world.

It was only possible due to his high INT stat, and not only did it make him more perceptive, but also enhanced his ability to think or improvise. He figured that further investment into the INT stat from now on was the right move, instead of an all-rounded build. His class had multiplied the effectiveness of putting more points into INT and AGI, after all.

‘Will I become some sort of super genius? Do I turn into the Flash if I keep going with AGI? Is it going to affect my personality if I get too smart? Oh god, I don’t want to be a fuckin’ nerd…’

Chester wondered if pursuing strength should be his main goal. He had gotten dragged into the cycle of getting stronger and killing monsters out of necessity. But now, it seemed that he was strong enough to survive whatever this world could throw at him. That was one of the reasons why he selected Illusionist instead of the other classes which seemed to have more viability in combat.

‘Isn’t it okay to just settle down somewhere?’ He thought to himself. Chester wondered if a life like that was possible for him; someone who had never stayed too long in one place, who was never bogged down by attachments and relationships due to his criminal lifestyle. The idea had some value, but he sourly remembered how things worked out when he last tried such a thing.

‘...I’ll keep going. Maybe once this heist and trip is over, I’ll find something to do with my life. Maybe I can be a street magician? Or be a guard at some backwater town? It's easy for me to settle down almost anywhere; I doubt they had birth certificates back then.’

He found it ironic how his life here hadn’t changed much to his previous one. An undocumented criminal travelling city to city. Except now, he just happened to possess superhuman powers. The aimless, wandering lifestyle had followed him into this new world.

‘Well, maybe that’s not the only thing that’s different.’ His mind drifted to his vampire companion whom he had met through sheer coincidence; an absurdly strong child with good morals.

‘I’ve always trusted my gut. And my gut tells me he’s going to be something special in the future.’

He was right on the mark. The boy had told him he came from a prominent family of vampires, and was second in line to the throne.

Their entire trip consisted of him pestering the boy for questions ranging from ‘What’s your family like’ to ‘Do vampires poop’, and generally doing his best to get friendly. The boy went from wary and hostile, to being in a constant state of annoyance when it came to their interactions. The progress was astounding.

Their time together had been short so far; but Chester enjoyed it compared to being solitary. A long-term companion was something he never had; friends, lovers, and relationships had always been temporary for him. Cutting people off before they could realize he was a criminal became a regular occurrence. He hoped that once they went their separate ways, he could find a fine woman to either settle down or travel with.

“If only he would take after me…Then he could be like Robin, and I’d be Batman. But then we’d be committing crimes instead of preventing them.” He sighed, sad at the lost opportunity to have a sidekick.

Upon finding no other useful documents or secret compartments, Chester placed everything back in its original spot and closed the door behind him. The entrance to the bedroom was slightly ajar, revealing Baudelaire, satisfied and asleep. He quietly put his clothes on, and took his glasses from the nightstand.

Chester searched for a quill, and hurriedly wrote a note with an excuse for his disappearance and left it by her bed. Not wanting to be impolite, he covered her body with the blanket.

Taking another glance at the beautiful woman, he dispelled his disguise and left.

It was midnight once he had left the house. Exposed to the cool air of the night, he decided to explore the nightlife available in Elway. Chester felt as though he had devoted enough time towards his heist, and deserved some time off.

Some more walking led him to a rambunctious building, teeming with activity and music. A rectangular sign was posted outside, glowing brightly in big, bold, multicolored letters.

SADIE’S CASINO

Chester grinned, feeling a sense of belonging as he entered. Glamorous furniture, and red velvet carpets lined the interior. The slightly dim lights gave off the atmosphere of mystery and excitement, perfect for drawing in customers. Not a single clock or window in sight, unknowingly trapping the customers in a space where it would be difficult to discern how long they’ve been inside.

He could see drunken dwarves enjoying the slot machines, stone-faced elves engaged in a game of cards, and a variety of other games taking place. Further ahead, he could see a bar where many were served a variety of colorful, alcoholic beverages.

The guards on either side of the door gave him a cursory nod. They wore armor that didn’t cover their large, imposing physiques.

It truly felt like he had stepped back into Earth, the surroundings felt so familiar to him. Chester cracked his knuckles, a wide smile on his face.

He approached a table, observing quietly from behind and making sure that the game was identical to the one he had played on Earth. A revolving wheel with a ball spinning inside. Chester approached the human dealer, a blonde man with a patchy beard.

“Hey, do ya’ mind giving me a quick rundown of this game? It’s my first time here.”

The dealer obliged, telling the man about Roly-Poly. The game continued, and Chester learned that it was roughly the same as roulette, with negligible changes that didn’t affect him.

He joined an open seat once a new round had begun, and accepted a free drink, which he had downed all in one go. It warmed his stomach, and he sighed with relief as the alcohol entered his system.

“Ah, liquid courage…” He said quietly to himself, his eyes were half-lidded, indicating to everyone on the table that he was a light-weight. The other players, two dwarves, two humans, and one elf, glanced at the new player; some were bored, and others were curious about the drunken newcomer.

He exchanged five gold for a large stack of chips of numerous values, idling around as the table prepared for another round of roulette. Chester eyed the people on the second floor; peering over the railings and looking at the tables below in a scrutinizing manner.

‘Surveillance..?’

“First time?” The dwarf beside him asked. He was a head shorter than Chester, but incredibly wide. His beard was blonde, luscious, and healthy. His forearms were thick and muscled; similar to a powerlifter.

Chester gave him an inebriated grin. “Yes sir, I’m from down south. Wanted to see what the city’s like.”

A quick chat passed the time, and he learned that the dwarf, Phillop Horntoe, was a blacksmith that specializes in crafting shields. The small talk was cut off by the beginning of a new round.

He made his bets; one gold-value chip laid underneath a silver-value one, betting on a number as though he was unfamiliar with the game. Chester ordered another drink, sipping on it as he watched the dealer spin the roulette.

Unfortunately, his bet wasn’t a winning one, and he took the chips before being gently reminded by the dealer to avoid touching the chips after he had dealt them.

He sipped his drink quietly as he placed the chips back down on the table; and the dealer collected his two silver chips, unaware of what he had just done.

“Ah, damn…” Chester scratched at his head, doing his best to act discouraged.

The dwarf patted him on the back. “Don’t worry kid, you’ll win eventually.”

Chester had bet on the winning number once again, doing a drunken celebration as he did so.

The massive pile of chips accumulating before him had stunned the other players and the dealer, but had no way of telling that his winnings were nothing more than the result of beginner’s luck. The man had won and lost at a regular pace, but most of his wins seemed to be a large wager.

“Kid, mind telling me what your luck stat is?” Phillop asked, astounded at the stack of chips beside him.

“Eight, why?”

The dwarf guffawed. “That’s horrible! How th’ hell are you getting so lucky then?!”

Chester shrugged, doing his best to act tipsy. Even after several drinks, he was still sober.

A voice came from behind him, feminine, and sickly sweet.

“Is there a problem here, Martin?”

He turned to see a purple-skinned female with dark hair looking down on him. She wore a simple, but classy black attire from head to toe. Her defining feature; a small set of horns erupting from her forehead, signaled to Chester she was far from human.

The dealer managing this table scratched his head. “I’m…not really sure, ma’am.”

“Wow, you’re pretty!” He said, slurring his words slightly. “May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, miss..?”

“I’m Sadie, the pit boss. How are you this evening?”

Chester hiccupped, giving her a lazy salute. “Feelin’ lucky, that’s how I am!”

“Would you mind a quick inspection? It’s standard procedure here at my casino.”

He obliged, standing up to his full height, swaying slightly as he did so.

The trinket on her sizable chest began to glow, going over every inch of his body and highlighting the amulet on his neck, and the rings on his fingers. Sadie frowned, looking at a screen before her that reported no suspicious magic being used.

To Chester, it seemed as though she was scrutinizing him, and he continued to sway on his feet for about a minute, doing his best to make the silence awkward and uncomfortable by staring at her chest very openly.

“...Apologies, dear customer. You may continue.”

She turned on her heel, continuing to observe the other tables after finding nothing suspicious about him.

He inwardly smirked. Chester had figured they had a way of detecting magic being used, and elected to stick to ordinary means when cheating. Every casino he had been to was hellbent on catching cheaters like himself.

His sleight of hand had become even better thanks to his increased AGI, performing moves so fast and subtle that it only took him a split second to swap out his chips whenever he touched them. A slight twitch of his finger was all that indicated he had even done anything. When he lost, he would swap out the gold-value chip in his wager for a lesser one, and if he won he left it as it was, getting massive earnings in return.

This cycle of minimal loss, and maximum gain was a tried and true method he had used to make a killing in Vegas, and he did his best to ‘lose’ a few bets here and there, just to throw off any suspicion that he was cheating. A subtle glance above showed that there were three people observing his table; stares drilling onto the back of his neck. It was a sense that had been honed in the forest, detecting the moment any monster decided he was a tasty meal.

‘Guess they figured I was up to something anyway. I’ll stop for now.’

In Chester’s mind, he figured that he had won more than enough. He had turned five into twenty gold in an hour. The man wasn’t confident in his ability to keep the charade up while being closely scrutinized by the people from above.

He collected his winnings, and went to the cashier counter. After taxes, his winnings had come down to eighteen gold and twenty one silver. A respectable amount, all things considered.

Chester went to the bar to celebrate his spoils, asking the bartender for the best alcohol they’ve got.

The bartender, a male elf, suggested one called ‘Pernatia’s Golden Ale’, allegedly produced by the largest religion on the continent. Its bottle was branded by a skeleton with shining, golden orbs for eyes. Its maw was wide open, with a bright red ruby placed within.

He was amused at the existence of holy alcohol and watched as the bartender poured a small glass. Chester tipped him, before noticing a gathering of people at the corner of the room. The man could see movement on the wall, and went to take a closer look.

He approached them to see a large projection where people fought in a massive coliseum. It was almost like an image projector from the old days, except it was more high quality and reminiscent of a television screen.

It showed warriors battling in a vicious free for all. A large, circular, concrete arena trapped the fighters within. There were several people unconscious or heavily injured on the floor.

“What is all this?”

A man turned to him and responded. “We’re watching the Finamore Tournament. Wanna place a bet? You’ll have to wait for the next round, though. It's too late to bet now.”

He was content to watch the fighting; a massive battle-royale was waged on screen, from a view he expected in sports games. The man had enjoyed sporting events, mainly because it was too easy to sneak in and enjoy the best seats in the arena.

People began to cheer, some groaned as the ones they had bet on were viciously knocked out or seemingly killed. Chester had asked if the tournament suffered from casualties, and they only responded with laughter.

Unfortunately, he found this somewhat boring. He had expected a lot more magic powers and epic battles; but he supposed that not everybody was going to be strong. The majority of the fighters were closer to regular humans in ability except for a large, hulking man that seemed to run over his competition with a buckler on his forearm. The ones watching with him were murmuring about the warrior, who was apparently a newcomer they hadn’t seen before.

The warrior on the screen had bronze skin, and a build similar to a powerlifter. His muscles were reminiscent of a dwarf, but he towered over the largest contestants by nearly a foot. Despite that, he possessed an immense amount of speed and skill.

“Think he’s hiding his level?”

“Doubt it; Finnamore’s really cracked down on that stuff. Probably just a mutant, or half-giant.”

“Jasiah continues his brutal stampede! Noone can stop him!” The announcer shouted, in awe at the man’s sheer strength and durability.

The man wielded no other weapon, electing to bash his enemies with brute force. His bare skin was exposed, but no blows made it past his shield. Several men surrounded him, but to no avail. His deceptive speed and defensive ability allowed him to avoid and parry any attacks coming his way. The man’s hair; deep-red dreadlocks, swung wildly due to his erratic movement.

A mana blast rocketed towards him, but Jasiah simply slapped it away with his shield like a nuisance.

‘That guy’s strong. I wonder what his class is. Maybe some sort of tank? Surely not as good as an Illusionist.’

He asked one of the onlookers about the absurdly strong warrior.

“Oh, him? He definitely doesn’t have a class. The tournament has a level cap, so only level nineteen and below can participate. They check when you register.”

Chester whistled. “He’s going like that without a class? That’s amazing.”

“I agree. Recruiters will be on him like dwarves to metal. The Elway army would kill to have him.”

Chester realized that the tournament was a good way to make money while also advertising a person’s combat skills. He was sad that he couldn’t enter due to the level cap, but figured it wasn’t the biggest loss.

The fighting continued until five remained; one of whom was the shield-bearing warrior, who looked relatively unharmed from the battle royale. The circular shield on his arm was small; barely covering half his forearm. It looked more like a ceremonial item; a marble-like surface with gold laced on the edges. He flexed and roared to the crowd, proclaiming his victory to the skies.

A few minutes went by as mages repaired the arena, smoothing out any cracks that had occurred, before a small voice introduced the next group battling it out.

“Introducing the final block, give your applause for our gladiators today!”

The group began to spread themselves around the arena, where the noteworthy fighters were introduced. He raised his brow at the unique individuals shown on screen, but decided there was no point in betting. He didn’t want to push his luck.

“Starting with the skillful assassin, Victor Lupin!”

A mysterious person covered in bandages bowed their head on screen, wielding two daggers.

After several cups of strong alcohol, he had begun to feel the effects. Chester noted that his tolerance was significantly higher than it should've been, which he guessed was due to his END stat. He figured that to get wasted, it would take enough alcohol to kill a horse. The man asked for a refill from the bartender.

“Give your applause for the ever so talented mage, Rex Sawmann!”

The mage looked like a teenager, but was flamboyantly dressed in an orange outfit including a pointed wizard hat.

Speaking of horses, the man stared at the system the casino had worked out; it was similar to horse-racing, except instead of who finished first, it was who survived the round. The machine seemed to operate based on how much the customers had bet on each contestant, adjusting the odds as an employee placed the money inside and flicked a button.

'Man, this world is advanced in all the weirdest places. They have teleportation, but they don't have proper toilets. The hell's up with that?'

The machine, which looked like it was made of wood, hummed with power. The numbers shifted and so did the order of the names on the board.

“Introducing the talented spearman, Hody Weinstein!”

An incredibly tall, lanky and armored individual appeared on screen. His face was set in a firm frown, and his spear was clenched tightly in his fist.

His eyes scanned the names at the top. Many were betting on the spearman Hody and the mage Rex, almost equal at the top of the board. Chester was curious to see if he could fight in the coliseum. He was almost certain that he could wipe the floor with any of those guys on screen. The previous block was nothing compared to what he had fought in the forest; and he wasn’t even half as good as he was now.

‘Those guys aren’t shit compared to me. Who cares if I cheated to get these stats; in a straight fight, I’d dust ‘em!’

He enjoyed the feeling of certainty that came with power. Although there were some characters he knew that would wipe the floor with him, they were far and few in between.

‘Well, there was that one swordsman at the adventurer's district. He looked like a young Frank Sinatra. I have a bad feeling about him…’

His mind wandered upon remembering the mysterious swordsman whom he passed during his exploration of the city. The hairs on his skin had stood on end, warning him that there was something dangerous nearby. The mysterious man had stood out due to his demeanor and attire, sticking out like sore thumb even amongst the hardened warriors around.

A slew of names covered the top of the screen, and as his eyes went down, Chester recognized a familiar name. Doubting that it was a coincidence, he turned to the projection on the wall where a familiar face was shown on screen.

“The newcomer, a young and promising swordsman, Damien Rose!”

He almost spat out his drink upon seeing the tiny vampire child fighting in the arena. The projection zoomed in on him wielding a shortsword, and the crowd seemed to cheer and swoon at the handsome boy. Unlike most of the melee fighters, he was only wearing a dress shirt with no protective armor. Chester opened his coin purse, and went to the bookmarker taking everyone’s bets.

“Hey! Fiv-no, twenty gold on Damien Rose.”

“Sorry sir, the maximum bet allowed is ten gold. House rules.”

He dumped the money into the bookmarker’s hands, and he was given a ticket. The machine had changed Damien’s standings from near the bottom to the middle, as the massive sum had directly affected the odds. No one in the building had expected much from the pretty boy.

The ticket displayed the odds his bet was at, and the estimated winnings he would receive, which was fifty six gold, according to the paper in his hand.

He disliked horse-racing or gambling on sporting events, as he could not control the outcome like he did with cards and roulette. However, Chester never had this absolute certainty for the outcome of a fight.

‘This is the easiest fuckin’ money I’ve ever made in my life! He’s going to slaughter them!”

He poured another shot of the holy alcohol, raising it high. “Go Damien, GO!”