Before going to bed, I set out the love potions Danio needed to take to the Driam Trana for me. In my sleep, I fought against nightmares of my original life, of jail life, of the electric chair, and all the times I'd died since then. I awoke at dawn with Danio still asleep.

Hopefully the Shevira I was born under would for once help me out a bit. Ket'ha was supposed to be about willfulness, faith in yourself and your abilities, and the duality of both. Ket'ha was the Shevira that ruled over all the others. Each Shevira was a personification of Energy that flows from the unmanifest realm of the Shevirat through Ket'ha into manifestation in realm of formation--the realm people live in. Ket'ha was the head, the crown, the first Energy source.

And if Ket'ha was real, they'd let me die how many times now?

I made my way through dark streets back to the hotel since I had to meet up with Rolf today. I'd only been in my room for half an hour when a member of the hotel staff knocked on my door to deliver a message. It was from Caemor, and apparently I'd been accepted. The note read:

Congratulations, Gerard Viscoti! You have been accepted into Caemor Academy. Should you accept this invitation to join us at Caemor, please return this note two days from now in morning at 8 o'clock sharp with your belongings for move-in day.

─ Caemor Academy

Immediately after I finished reading it, a System notice came up.

[Notice]

Congratulations!

You have completed your Quest [Get into Caemor Academy]. You have been rewarded a secondary Class of [Mage]. Would you like to accept?

I declined because that'd tell me just how important the System thought this secondary Class would be. I'd never even heard of a secondary Class. I'd never had one. No one I knew had told me they had one, either.

[Notice] System reconfigured to prevent a Class change decline error by removing your option to decline. Once again, this message is a simple courtesy. Please stop declining or the System will no longer offer a courtesy message. You have been rewarded a secondary Class of [Mage]. Would you like to accept?

I declined because I didn't want a stupid courtesy message if I couldn't decline anyway. What was the point?

[Notice] Congratulations!

You've added the secondary Class of [Mage]. Reconfiguring your Stats based on your new secondary Class. This may take awhile...

Now my decline was an accept. Got it. More and more like the prison system every damn day now, wasn't it? Whatever though at this point. I wasn't sure if I'd gotten into Caemor based on my own merit. Maybe it was my Luck. Or, fuck, the System could've made it happen. But I didn't care. I'd wanted to get in, and I got in, so nothing to complain about.

Feeling in good spirits despite my growing love-hate relationship with my System, I prepared for my meeting with Rolf in the industrial district. I didn't have the rest of the investment money I'd promised him, and I wasn't sure if he'd bring it up or not. Seemed faux pas for the son of a wealthy merchant family just like it was pretty faux pas for nobility to discuss money like that. Was hoping for it at least.

My Stats updated around the time I headed out of the hotel.

Name

Gerard Viscoti

Primary Class

Noble Assassin

Secondary Class

Mage

Soul

F-Class (Stage 1)

Strength

18

Cunning

15

Perception

20

Energy

15

Skills

Lucky Number 7 [2.10%]

Silver Tongue [1.20%]

7-Lives-Bloodlust [5.00%]

The increase in my Energy Stat almost made me stop walking. How in the world did a secondary Class change that so much? The System was clearly trying to prove a point. That it was trying to help me. The problem was that I didn't believe that was true. Why start acting this way now, after how many lives? No, the System had just found a new way to torture me. I could deal with torture though.

In the industrial district, I found Rolf sitting on a bench near the docks, watching the ships come in and out, the seamen shout over one another, the merchants haggling with the fishermen. People were out walking around, laughing, talking, and enjoying themselves. Rolf had picked a good location to convince me that the industrial district would be a good spot for the shop.

"Gerard!" Rolf stood when he saw me. He was always doing too much. "I thought I'd have to wait a bit longer. You seem like the type who runs late."

Insult? Backhanded compliment? Oblivious observation? Who knew. I ignored it.

Instead, I said, "I got into Caemor. The message came this morning." I pulled out the note to show him.

"Oh, that's great! I wasn't going to ask in case you hadn't. Congratulations!" He hugged me, although I wasn't sure what gave him the impression I wanted one.

"Thanks," I said, letting the hug happen since Dad had told me many years ago that it was best to just accept them since that was the socially appropriate thing to do in most situations. "So let's talk business. We're going to open up a magic shop. More exciting for you than my Caemor acceptance, I think."

"Yes, we are!" Somehow he redoubled his hug and added more enthusiasm to it. Be easy to knife him in the gut; I'd just have to angle a knife just right and he'd do all the work himself. He pulled me under his arm and directed us down the street deeper into the industrial district. "I secured a storefront for us not too far from here with the investment you gave me last time. I think you'll like it a lot. Come on. This way. So exciting."

"Yes," I said. "Exciting."

Rolf guided me a few blocks deeper into the industrial district. This part of town was a little rougher than the other parts, but there were a ridiculous number of shops. Street-level had several shops in each building and stairs down to basement level shops.

And they were all busy. A few butcher shops, a few produce stores. A few of them that sold weapons and armor. There were a couple of places that specialized in magic items, and a place that made furniture.

It seemed like this was where the commoners, the real residents of Brugge, shopped.

Somewhere in the middle of all of it. Rolf pointed at a small building on the corner of the street. It was a simple wooden structure with a sign that read 'SHOP POTION.' Creative.

"Here it is!" Rolf announced.

"Shop Potion?"

He deflated. "You said you didn't care about the name."

There would be no reasoning against that. "Great name. Can I get a look inside?"

He beamed. "Yeah! Let's go in."

We went inside and Rolf showed me the store. It was fairly spacious, and the walls were lined with shelves. The floor wasn't fancy but would polish up well enough. The counter was solid wood, even if a bit aged-looking. Probably better that it wasn't fancy like the market district. That'd probably turn people off.

"Nice setup, isn't it?" Rolf asked. "I've had my eye on this spot for a while. It's perfect. Next steps are stocking up, employing some people. All of that though... takes more money. Where is your father on the second part of the investment?"

I'd overestimated Rolf's manners. That bothered me less than the hug.

"He's been bedridden the last few days," I lied, "so I'm not expecting him to write back for a little while longer."

"That's unfortunate. I suppose we can wait until he gets better. It'll be a good chunk of change to get the ball rolling and get this finished up soon." He started showing me to the back of the store. "Got any ideas for what we should sell? Potions seem to be like easy money, definitely. A few magical items but not the same as the shops down the block. We don't want to compete with them. I guess we could sell a few enchanted weapons. Swords, axes, bows, those sorts of things. I don't know how much demand there is for enchanted weapons, though."

As far as I knew, those were usually only used by the Adventurer Class doing dungeon raids. I'd never bothered. We didn't have dungeons where I came from, so I hadn't bothered to find out more than a few basic details anyone in this world would know. But not learning magic because it wasn't in my original world hadn't done me any favors.

"Do you know what Adventurer Guilds are big here?" I said. "Maybe we can ask what their members need and work from there."

Rolf grinned. "You're a smart one, Gerard."