Prologue

* * *​

To any work, whether it is sweeping the streets or saving the galaxy, the key is a methodical approach and a healthy amount of caution to avoid trouble. Do that right, and you will breeze through most of the problems in your way, sometimes not even noticing them. Smart people act exactly so: methodically and cautiously, just to make sure that they won’t lose balance, thus giving their many enemies (and smart people always have those) a good reason to give a push to their downfall.

Rulers of Auriel considered themselves smart people, and they had all the reasons to have such an opinion. Those, they addressed a problem of external interference very seriously, as it happened to cause them losing power and authority. Their approach was effective, I must say. In fact, it was successful to the point, that during last few centuries the rulers’ power and influence staidly rose, their sons and daughters acquired shiny new legendary and epic classes, gold and levels kept accumulating with frightening speed, and problems tended to keep their distance from the life’s chosen few.

The toll for that power and stability was paid in lives, blood and souls. Consequently, it’s fair to assume, it wasn’t the ones in power who had to pay the bills. Well, actually, they never did, as such an all-important responsibility was shifted to those, who’s job description is solving the world’s problems.

That is, to Heroes.

The Institute of Chosen One’s Summon was instilled in the world a long time ago. Some say, it was in place even before the System, not to say anything about modern kingdoms. That structure was fused into the foundation of the world itself, by the Gods, and not those who are being worshipped now. No, the ones from ages ago did it.

They were different, ancient among the divine, they created a structure absurdly complicated even by their standards. This structure allowed to rip someone’s soul from another world, give it a body, but most importantly, power. Chosen Ones and Heroes received a gift of power from the world itself, power, that is all but unachievable to normal inhabitants of Auriel.

Acquiring an epic or even legendary class from the get go? Not even something worth mentioning, as heroes got those pretty much in every instance, which allowed them to grow into terrifyingly powerful beings in a very short notice. Add to this an accelerated rate of experience gain, and much easier leveling, and you will get a literal killing machine, that steamrolls everything living, unliving, and even conceptually indestructible.

Obviously, those who had so much personal strength had all the rights to expect a certain social status, might makes right after all. The total lack of volunteers among the powerful of the world to share said status with the summoned aliens is also a given. No one wanted to accept those impudent nobodies. Unfortunately, the nobodies were strong, really strong, absurdly strong even.

And not every powerful person in Auriel could boast a tremendous amount of personal strength.

They tried to make Heroes fight one another, sent them to suicide missions, poisoned them when they could, and generally did their best to get rid of them when possible. They allowed some of those who were summoned to be elevated, tying them with bonds of marriage, intrigues and other miracles of social magic.

Sometimes it worked, sometimes it did not, and that’s when things went terribly wrong for the unfortunate schemer.

At one point someone, perhaps even the Gods themselves, found and realized a solution to that particular problem.

Said ‘solution’ was vile to the extreme, yet beautiful in its simple elegance.

It is well known, that the creators of Yoke spend countless hours conversing with a variety of different summoned, hunting even the tiniest details about the summoning process and its inner workings. And then they made their masterpiece.

Heroes were really, - and I can’t stress this enough - really well protected against mental interferences and all kinds of abilities and magics that targeted one’s mind. This is actually one of the boosts that is guaranteed to be acquired with the title of a Hero. The moment someone becomes one, his mind and will get the protection. Its not a complete immunity, but it’s a really good shield that renders any and all interreference a colossal pain in the ass for the one who tries it. With a growth in levels and power of the summoned, attempts to control, dominate or charm the Hero are all but doomed to failure.

Yoke didn’t fight the Hero Title and its protections.

It was applied in the exact moment, when the soul already arrived to the Halls of Choice, but didn’t yet selected a class and divine gift. Therefore, it was a completely normal human soul from your run-of-the-mill world, usually the technologically-oriented one. Making such a soul submit wasn’t quite elementary (you had to work through a lot of obstacles after all), but well within the realm of achievable.

Then, after the summoning was done, the Hero was carefully manipulated – some alchemy in food, a girl in a bed, some spells to completely bind his mind, and he never even noticed anything, much less resisted. Heroic title was a really solid defense, but if the path is already well known and cleared, bypassing the defense is just a matter of practice. The poor bastards were usually directed to clear camps of orcs and dens of bandits, just to get those first, easy levels.

And then they, who didn’t even understand what was going on, were sacrificed in rituals, their classed literally ripped from their very souls, and then implanted into those who needed them more, that is in; sons, daughters, in most loyal of the ruler’s underlings and of course, in rulers themselves. Sometimes, if the Hero is eye-catching enough, he or she may be used as human pet or a lover, seeing that their personal power was still just as absurd. However, I believe this is still death, even if not a physical one.

So why were some left alive you may ask? Surely, having an elite bed-warmer isn’t worth the potential loss of personal strength, considering that people who could summon heroes, were usually influential and powerful enough that they didn’t have a problem with acquiring all sorts of beautiful lovers.

Simple, if you extract someone’s class, it gets downgraded by a rank. Mythical class turns to legendary, legendary becomes an epic, epic becomes rare and so on.

Sometimes, if you need a good and reliable weapon, its easier not to kill, but to use (in every possible way) Heroes as they are. The fact that it wouldn’t be you, who have to risk your life on the battlefield, but the summoned nobody, was just a sweet bonus.

Add all this to the fact that Heroes, unlike normal people, receive a right to acquire three classes on their very first day in Auriel. They don’t have to wait until twenty fifth level to get the second class, and until level fifty to get the third. Heroes are getting the best stuff. No registration or SMS required. The full fledged Chose Ones get a total of five slots for classes, as well as a wider choice of said classes, all on level one too.

A fairy tale of a live.

So lived the Heroes, never even realizing their own enslavement.

And so were they dying.

It lasted for a long time, and it seemed, as if that order of things would have stretched until time immemorial…

…yeah, that’s the part where I come in.

I was saved by a universal power of human -and inhuman- idiocy multiplied by a factor of sheer chance. Someone didn’t get the right ingredient, someone wasn’t watching the ritual carefully enough, someone just plain and simply fucked up… and so I lived.

It actually wasn’t uncommon, sometimes the Yoke wasn’t successfully applied on the summoned, those things happened from time to time. Its troublesome, it causes unnecessary expenses, but it isn’t really a problem. Said ‘lucky’ summoned were killed the moment they appeared in the summoning circle; they were given no chance to survive.

Everyone knew about our Heroic might, and no one could allow to risk needlessly.

However, the fuck up in my summoning was considerably more major then just failed attempt of brainwashing – as I didn’t even appear in the summoning hall. Even that, by itself, was hardly a problem. Things like that happened from time to time too, and the way to deal with those situations was also sharpened by millenniums of practice, that is, sending a search-and-destroy taskforce after the Hero always did the job.

No, the real problem was that they though that the summoning itself failed, those giving me the most precious thing they could, the very same thing that they shouldn’t have given any rogue Hero no matter what.

Time to prepare and to get stronger.

And that’s how it started...

Wait.

Actually, let’s take a step back. To the time, when I just appeared in the Halls of Choice and was completely fucking awe-stuck by what was happening, as any normal being in my situation should.

Literally a second ago I’ve seen a blinding light of a crimson, glowing pentagram, that appeared under my comfy chair, then boom! I am here.

The ‘Here’ appeared to be a giant hall, where the ceiling was so high up, I wasn’t able to see it. In the middle of said hall, like pumpkins in Harry Potter, a lot of cards were floating. At the time I had no idea what they were there for. I felt no panic or excitement. I just knew somewhere deep inside that ‘that was it’. I got issekaid. Just like in so many novels about issekai with a System that I’ve read.

Yep, no more no less.

So, I didn’t break down sobbing, I decided to look around, instead of, say, go around choosing cards, that were probably gifts from the System that any intitled Issekai protagonist was supposed to receive. This decision, by the way, saved me and my ass from a very terrific fate, as when I was turning my torso around, I caught a glimpse of movement behind my back. I’m so glad I was smart enough not to freeze, or turn around to search for the source of the movement. Instead, I jumped ahead, as if diving into transparent-looking [censored] floor.

When I finished the roll (and it was a roll, not me falling painfully on the floor!) and turned around to face the source of my troubles, I screamed. Like a virgin nun on the gathering of serial rapists, I too, was ready to confess all my sins and repent in hopes of divine salvation. The eldritch-looking thing, that resembled a product of love between a flying spaghetti monster, and classical tentacle monster, didn’t appreciate my heroic maneuvers, nor did it like the strength of my vocal cords, and it was clearly planning to repeat the previous leap, probably to hentai me in every hole I’ve got.

My heroic soul was strongly against said act of hedonism, which immediately maxed-out my motivation bar, and made me scream a few pitches louder then I already was, even as I started running in circles, wobbling from side to side, praying to god and everything holy to save my ass, and for the first time in my life I meant it literally.

God didn’t come down for me, but it seems he was somewhere nearby or was at least listening, because somehow the fucking thing didn’t catch me. In my attempts to escape from it, I crawled into the furthest corner of the hall, -said hall, by the way, wasn’t actually as big as I would’ve liked-, when suddenly this filthy thing just… vanished.

I still had enough fight in me to silently curse, after that I fell to the floor. It seems, I even lost my consciousness from all of the new traumatic experiences I lived through. Maybe I fell asleep. Can’t tell.

When I woke up again, there was a giant folder just frozen in the air in front of me. No, really, like an actual folder with files, it was white and made of paper that was held together by paper clips. Back where I worked, we had some of our useless reports stored like that. The kind, that we weren’t allowed to just dump in the trash because the boss said so. The funny thing is, the folder was there from the start, I just never noticed it – I had other things to worry about, problems that needed to be addressed first. Saving my anal virginity, for once.

I got to my feet, trying really hard to burn a hole through the folder with my stare alone. Then I carefully and quickly touched it, after which dove to the ground, shielding my head, you know, like in the movies. When the main character is being bombed, or have a grenade thrown at him, and he falls to the ground like that, while the shrapnel and the blast wave just goes past him. You know, the classics

Nothing happened, and I felt like an idiot. I mean the bigger idiot then usually, and that by itself is one hell of a milestone!

I rose to my feet once again, this time touching the levitating folder a bit firmer, then I opened it, and did what is supposed to be done with any folder with a report. No, not whipping my ass with it, even though I did consider that option. I started reading the thing with caution – you know, in case it’s a Necronomicon or something and I’ll accidently summon good old Cthulhu?

But my caution seemed to be in vain, in the folder there was exactly what one would expect: a report. A report about all the heroes who were summoned, about their deeds, lives and deaths. Amazing read I must say, even if a bit dry in language and written too methodically, but that’s how a report should be. And the further I was digging into the lives of my predecessors, - I didn’t start with ancient times, I actually started reading about the ones who got summoned just before me – the more I was getting enraged, well that, and also horrified immensely.

You know, I, myself am quite something. I can’t really call myself a good person, but neither was I a complete scum and degenerate, or at least so I hope. And even though my mind was seasoned by internet and 4chan, I was getting grossed out by what locals did to my fellow issekai-victims/colleagues. I also was getting scared shitless the further I went, as a realization settled in, that what happened to them, could have happened to me. Still could happen in fact.

So, I did what life never prepared me for – I sat down and started to think.

It was obvious that I had to choose classes to leave this place. I didn’t feel thirsty or hungry, but neither did I felt like spending the rest of eternity here.

So, I had to actually open the System window, and start reading the information provided there.

I, as a full-fledged Hero (and it’s a real shame I wasn’t a Chosen One) was supposed to choose one legendary and two epic classes. I could’ve exchanged one of those things on, say, an artifact of a higher grade but that’s it. Considering the sheer scope of the problems I will be having, what I was offered wasn’t exactly enough.

“Hey there! Above! I am the first hero in who-know-how-many-years who can potentially kick the living shit out of the locals! Am I not supposed to have some extra boost to do that?”

I heard the low-ringing ‘dink’, like the one in modern elevators when they arrive to a destination, and in front of my eyes a text appeared. It was green.

Due to the special circumstances you are eligible to receive three mythic classes and an artifact of a similar grade. Have a nice game!

That encouraged me quite a bit, right before I glanced around, and realized that I am in the massive hall with a fuckton of cards, and no real way of finding out what I may need. No, really, how the fuck would I do that, there are thousands of those things here, and I had no idea what to look for!

“Can you at list give me a tip on what type of classes are most useful for my survivability? You know, so I wouldn’t pick some useless shit? They’ll kill me, you know?!”

Surprisingly I did get an answer, and a nice one at that. Before my eyes I got the familiar text. You know, the green one.

Mythical class received: Lord of Shadows.

Mythical class received: Master of Dreams and Reflections.

Mythical class received: Mystical Alchemist.

Please choose an artifact.

Even all of my lackluster (relatively) experience in gaming and rich (just as relatively) experience in reading ranobe was enough to understand, that I got one class for stealth, one for the fighting and one for the craft. When you think about it, it is pretty much perfect for someone who has to be a powerful, unnoticeable self-sustaining loner.

Well, I wouldn’t say no to a powerful healing and a summoning class, just to completely cover all the possible needs I may have.

“Can you also make me a Chosen One? And teleport me far away from any settlements? Also, some gold for the road would be nice.” Shouted a future justice bringer and world savior, staring in the absent ceiling.

I mean me, by the way.

There was no answer, but something passed me with a whistling sound, and I swear to god it broke the sound barrier on the way down. A second later a thunderous crush almost made me shit myself despite the complete calmness I was feeling in this place. When I slowly turned my head to the source of the noise, I discovered a giant modesty generator on the floor next to me. It was a giant machine that seemed like an industrial torture-device.

How did I know it was a ‘modesty generator’? Because on its side there was written; «A modesty generator»

Well, I always did appreciate a good joke…

But did I ever tell you that I have a huge problem with keeping my mouth shut? No? Well, I do now. I was told that by my mother, father, by my first and second bosses (the third one just fired me instantly), by the fourth and the final boss I was working under before this whole mess, even all of my girlfriends and that old lady from next flat, Evdokia Kerosinovna mentioned that at least once. Needless to say, they would have probably face-palmed in sync if they’d heard what I said next: “Are you fucked up in the head up there?”

There was no answer, instead, text appeared in front of me, and it was green once again. This text, written with the same font, informed me about a rather interesting development.

To acquire the titles of the Chosen One, kill Bobik.

I was already thinking about how I would be killing some poor puppy, when suddenly, I heard a growl full of anticipation behind me. Doing no sudden movements, I turned around.

I regretted it almost instantly.

Imagine a giant dog that looks as if it was made of pure molten metal. Now, imagine it having a head with such a savage and enraged expression, that the number of bricks you would shit seeing it, will be enough to build a second Moscow. Picture formed? Good. Now take this image but multiply it ten times in intensity, and add to that a size of a train wagon.

Oh yeah!

Above that abominations head, there was this shining, green (that’s important) text, that proudly proclaimed to all reading that it is, in fact, the one and only Bobik

I shrieked like professional opera singer who’s balls got stuck between am industrial press and a hard place, and started running away in a direction opposite to Bobik, leaving only tears and shitstains in my wake. Well, to be more precise I tried to run, and in my defense, it is quite challenging to outrun a speeding train.

The paw-hit I received in the back was enough for any normal person to puke their guts out, but as if by some miracle, all the hits and bites from this cute little puppy left no damage on me. But damage is one thing, it still didn’t stop me from feeling every moment of it.

I was holding up, never retreating nor surrendering in this heroic fight, for about twenty minutes during which it felt like I was mowed, chewed and shitted out well over two hundred times. I may have kept it up a bit longer, if it wasn’t for a short break, during which I managed to make out a new text massage.

Yes, it was fucking green, how did you guess?!

Please, choose an artifact.

I would have shared my highly valued opinion about said massage with the world, but Bobik, once again, flicked his head and sent me flying in a long, and - hopefully - graceful arc across the hall.

It was more an act of desperation then hope, but I did outstretch my hand and attempted to grab one of the cards levitating in the air to stop the momentum. Obviously, I wasn’t able to, but when trying to bring my hand back, I did grab something. Suddenly I noticed that I wasn’t just flying straight, I was also flying into a blue tear in space, that couldn’t have possibly been anything but the portal.

Just before falling into It, despite myself, I was shouting: “Motherfuuuuuuuu”

I calmly exited the portal in this wonderful new world, that I knew I had to dominate and conquer. My stride was calm and graceful, my head held high in confidence, and my posture was radiating so much pure awesomeness as if I was an incarnation of all primarchs from 40k combined.

Ok, I’ll cut the bullshit.

I fell out of the portal head first and with surprising speed. The only reason why I didn’t break any bones immediately, was a miracle in a form of a last-year pile of fallen leaves. It still made me curse a lot when I was trying to dig myself out from this compost pit without accidently getting any of it in my mouth.

I dug myself out.

Just to face three weird, short, ugly creatures who were armed with spears. The spearheads of which appeared to be made of bones. This pleasant aesthetic in their weapons of choice was complimented by their looks. Angular, unhealthy malnourished bodies barely hidden by the rags they were wearing were a nice, fashionable touch. All in all, they looked so bad, that Auschwitz and Dachau prisoners would have probably looked almost presentable next to them.

In essence, those were typical goblins. Even the text above each of their head proudly proclaimed: goblin. I even saw their levels, two had level two, and one level three. You could say those were ideal first frags.

Those ideal first frags shared a glance between each other, then turned to the future ruler of this universe, measuring him with a menacing stare. One even licked his lips and the others were visibly salivating.

We stared at each other for a second, and then I decided to go ahead, and become the (possibly) first Earthling to ever talk with another sentient (debatable) life-form: “Hey there hajis. How do you do?” I was the tolerance incarnated, multiplied on itself ten times over.

So, I did tell you I had a problem with speaking before thinking, right?

Let me just say it again.

I was sprinting across the forest in silence, while thanking the gods and my boss for allowing me to come to work in snickers. If I was in normal shoes, I’d probably break my legs by now. My silence wasn’t just a mark of my remarkable stress-resistance, but also an attempt to save some breath.

Though I do have to point out, after Bobik this didn’t even scare me anymore.

My survival until now was mostly determined by the fact, that I was quite a tall guy, -almost 6.2 height- and the ugly bastards chasing me were too short footed to keep my pace, even if they probably had higher vitality. This vitality of theirs seemed to be reaching its limit too, seeing they were getting slower. That would have made me feel more hopeful, if it wasn’t for the fact that my stamina was decreasing too, and if those bastards weren’t constantly howling and shouting, probably in an attempt to call their friends.

So, the only thing I could do, was to keep on running while hoping that I wouldn’t die in the process. A few times when I felt that yeah, that’s it, I’m done, I miraculously opened a second breath, to once again get some distance from those cheering fuckers.

Instead of a cliché cliff I run into a very normal river, in which I dove with almost no hesitation or afterthought. First of all, I was a pretty alright swimmer – a testament to my childhood in rural village. Second of all, something was telling be that goblins probably liked water only as a part of whatever broth they planed on making out of me. So, I thought I had more chances in water then on land.

Angry, and honest to god indigent shouts of my chasers only affirmed that decisions, and made me mentally pat myself on the back. Mentally because I was a bit busy trying to get to the tree trunk that was drifting down the river. Maybe some kind of issekai-loving deities send me this as a sign.

It wasn't until I got a foothold on this message from heaven that I turned around to look at the shore and the crowd of goblins gathering there. My expectations were justified, for they really didn't go near the water. They were probably afraid it would wash away some of the grim, dirt and shit that covered them like a second skin.

I couldn't help but make an obscene gesture to the creatures watching me intently. Oh, how mad they got! How they squealed! Like the bitches on a vegan forum, where I once uploaded a picture of my steak. Some even stepped into the water in the vain hope of catching up with me (I already got an idea of how fast the current was, so I feared neither pursuers nor arrows). I was about to gesture to them in hopes of, despite the language barrier, conveying what I’ve seen their goblin mothers do last night, when three of them, who had swum the farthest, were devoured by a huge mouth, that looked like it belonged to an ungodly crossbreed between a crocodile and a shark.

It just swallowed three of them whole, not even chewing. At the same time.

I looked very carefully at my feet, dangling knee-deep in the water, and carefully pulled them out onto the floating tree, removing myself completely from the water surface that had become so unwelcoming all of a sudden. I suddenly felt far more in danger than that one time I was chased by a drunken neighbor with an axe.

I was able to shift a centimeter at a time so that I could lie completely on the trunk without feeling uncomfortable. Like hell I was going to risk a swim to shore!

It took me several hours of subjective time to rest and get myself together. I can't say anything about the real time, because the cheap watches on my hand got wet and stopped working. But at least the sun had time to set and the moon rose instead. Ah, its two moons here.

So, in the moonlight, I opened my character sheet for the first time, trying to organize my knowledge of the world. Apparently, a mythical class is incredibly cool, and three of them put me only a few millimeters lower in the ranking than the full-fledged Chosen Ones. Okay, not by a few millimeters, but still pretty close to those guys. And the artifact I'd snatched was still with me, even though I quite literally forgot all about it.

I set the artifact aside for later, staring into the system window before me. Thank tits that the font was normal, not fucking green.

Name: Constantine

Race: Human

Level: 1

Titles: Hero

Characteristic Points: None

Class Points: None

Characteristics (standard):

Power: 1

Dexterity: 3

Endurance: 4

Perception: 1

Concentration: 1

Energy: 1

Characteristics (class):

Shadow: 1

Dreams: 1

Inspiration: 1

Class: Lord of Shadows

Rank: 1

Basic characteristics: shadows, dexterity, perception.

Abilities:

Shadow Control: 1/5

Allows you to control the shadows in your field of vision and to give them limited physical shape.

Shadow Sense: 0/5

[undisclosed]

Bonuses:

Shadowborn: stealth skills grow five times faster; in case of danger, shadows will shelter you as their brethren.

Dexterous: Dexterity grows faster.

[undisclosed]

Class: Master of Dreams and Reflections

Rank: 1

Basic characteristics: dreams, concentration, perception

Abilities:

Create a dream: 1/5

Allows you to control the dream you are in, and allows to influence the passage of time in it within limits.

Send a dream: 0/5

[undisclosed]

Bonuses:

Dreamer: social and magical skills associated with the class grow five times faster; no one has power over your dreams but yourself.

Undeterred: the concentration grows faster.

[undisclosed]

Class: Mystic Alchemist

Rank: 1

Basic characteristics: inspiration, perception, energy

Abilities:

Creating a compound: 1/5

Allows you to create alchemical compositions from available reagents by instinctively understanding the creation process.

Reagent breakdown: 0/5

[undisclosed]

Bonuses:

Understanding of the essence: the ability to see and, within limits, understand magic in things and reagents; all craft skills related to alchemy grow five times faster.

Attentive: perception grows faster.

[undisclosed]

Special:

Limit of Excellence (from the title ‘Hero’): raises the maximum limit of natural characteristic growth to 50 (Now: 60), accelerates trainability and increases the amount of experience gained.

Hero's Will: Thought-affecting skills a rank lower than your classes can’t affect you.

Hero's gaze: allows you to see a certain amount of information about others; depending on your level.

Mythic: Limit of characteristic development raised by 10 (Now: 60), allows you to choose three classes at once.

Skills:

Provocation: 1 (apprentice)

Running: 4 (apprentice)

Stealth: 6 (apprentice)

Swimming: 3 (apprentice)

I finished familiarizing myself quickly, and the first thing I did was to curse (albeit in a whisper). I thought a mythical class would give me the ability to immediately bend over anyone I wanted, let alone three such classes at once! So far, only the ability to control shadows seems somehow useful to me, but even that is not nearly an arch-cool universe-crushing skill I was hoping for! How, for fuck sake, am I supposed to fight off enemies that want to tear my guts out?

I was almost killed by three fucking goblins!

It's a total disgrace! I'm a goddamn noob in the middle of nowhere, with no fighting skills, no weapons, no money, no knowledge of the world around me. I have nothing but a runny nose from wet clothes!

I pulled the mythical artifact from my pocket, trying to suppress my irritation and move as little as possible. It was a fine-looking ring, a delicate piece of craftsmanship. The moons were shining brightly enough that I could make out the coat of arms on the ring...

Arms growing out of an ass?

No way!

What does the System have to say about it?

Perverted Mentalist Ring (Mythical)

This ring belonged to one of the greatest mental-mages in the universe, absorbing some of his experience and skills. This mage was known for his power, but he was remembered for having a huge harem of women no less powerful than himself, who were completely loyal and obedient to him.

Properties:

Indestructible: The object cannot be broken.

Non-redeemable: the item cannot be lost, sold or stolen.

Mythical: it's a very cool artifact, be proud of it.

Granted abilities:

Subjugation of women (active): pointing your finger at any female of equal or lower level, you permanently turn her into your most loyal servant and slave. Does not work on those whose class is a higher tier then yours. Activation is instantaneous, takes 24 hours to recharge.

Incurvation of beauty (passive): any individual subjected to this ring acquires a relatively pleasant and desirable appearance (depending on the victim's original race), whatever that appearance might have been before. Even goblins or trolls. Activation is triggered by Subjugation skill. The transformation lasts anywhere from a few minutes to 24 hours, depending on the target's external parameters.

Admin, you bitch! (active): when this skill is activated, all system administrators within a radius of one kilometer experience a sharp stomach upset. If there are no representatives of the specified profession nearby, the skill finds one on its own within the whole universe. Activation by the phrase: [I hope you’d shit yourself up there!], reloading one minute.

[undisclosed]

For a moment, I was tempted to ignore my need for staying quiet and the possible presence of water predators nearby and scream my head off!

I can’t deny, the skill in the artifact is powerful and useful, and it's also a neat one. Some schoolboy - and I, too, in another situation - would have given his hand (yeah, the right one) for the possession of such a harem-creation constructor. But not in the middle of a forest with aggressive goblins and shark-crocodiles!

I'd trade this ring for a fireball generating wand right now, and I'd be very happy with the deal. I'd pay extra too, if I had anything to give!

How can it even be like that?

Well, sure, maybe I was going a bit too far when I demanded the Chosen One title, but not to the point where you’d need to throw Bobik on me, sent me straight into the jaws of goblins, and then fuck me over with an artifact like that!

Stop, wait a second…

If these guys run the System, does that mean they are the legendary system administrators for whom this ring was created? Whoever you are, unknown magician, I appreciate your help, even if you are a completely perverted degenerate!

“[I hope you’d shit yo...]”

**BAM!**

With a sound like that, lightning struck about a hundred meters away from me. And that’s despite perfectly clear sky and nice weather.

I think… I think I’d better not anger these guys until I learn how to dodge lightning and destroy Bobiks in bulks. But I guess it confirms that I do have such a useful skill, and that it probably works.

I am also pretty good at keeping track of my grudges.

So I'll wait.

And let them stock up their toilet paper.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep like a baby.

The morning was not a good one.

For starters, I did catch a cold after all, which wasn't at all surprising given the wet clothes and the cold night. How I didn't freeze to death that night with such an attitude is honestly a better question. Another thing that added some new spicy experiences was my body, which was completely swollen from half-sitting half-lying on a hard and cold log for a long time. It was so stiff that a certain proud issekai protagonist almost had a heart attack just because he mistakenly though he was paralyzed.

Woke up.

Shaken up the body.

Sneezed and blew my nose.

And now I was sitting and looking at the shore, about a hundred meters away, thinking about how not to be eaten for brunch by the sibling of that underwater dweller who had recently eaten three goblins, who, in turn, wanted to eat me. No ideas came to mind, at least no clever ones.

I went through all my skills, but I couldn’t find anything among them that suits my purposes. I tried to take apart a fallen tree (is it just me, or is it getting wet and slowly sinking more and more?) for alchemical ingredients. To my surprise I realized that the young leaves and bark of this forest giant had some magic inside them. I did pick a few pieces of both.

So here I am, looking at these pieces of vegetation, having no idea what to do with them. Unless I can tear some with my hands into large pieces, rub them in my hands like that, crumple them into a tight ball and breathe meaning and life into them...

I stare dumbfounded at the pill in my hands, which the System identifies as an ordinary-grade cold remedy. A few seconds of doubt and a loud, snot-spreading sneeze convinced me to shove this dubious medicine into my mouth and chew it thoroughly.

Strangely enough, the pain in my throat and chest went away almost instantly, though not completely, and my breath smelled like peppermint instead of unbrushed teeth. I was surprised and somewhat relieved, so I plucked every ingredient within my reach. Unfortunately, not all of the leaves or the bark were suitable, only pieces in specific areas.

I still gathered enough for three servings of the same antibiotic. I would have crafted four, but after the third consecutive creation I felt a sucking emptiness in my chest, so I didn't risk straining myself any further. It would be idiotic to get exhausted and to die in the middle of a river like that.

My stats pleased me with increased energy, concentration, and perception, new skills were unlocked and leveled up. That pleased my kind and forgiving heart.

Alchemy: 9 (apprentice)

Herbalism: 5 (apprentice)

A happy start to an alchemist named me.

I'm hungry, but for obvious reasons a though of trying to fish in the river horrifies me to no end.

When I recovered from my first potion (I took another serving), I realized that at this rate I’d either starve to death on this log, or, more likely, I would be eaten by some monster of the river.

Towards evening, when the shadows got as long as possible, I decided to use my only limited combat-ready ability. I meant shadow control, just so we are clear. The energy characteristic that went up to three, would allow me three times as much as the one measly point in that stat. For example...

I stood on the edge of my watercraft closest to the shore and waited until the shadow of one of the trees standing tall on the shore was near me. And then I grabbed the shadow, it was like grabbing a blanket and dragging it over yourself.

It felt like my stomach and chest turned into the hollow abyss devoid of anything, literally pulling my strength out of me, but the log's movement down the current first stopped, and then I was drawn to the shore. I was afraid, for a moment, that I would not have enough strength, and that I would pass out, falling into the water and drowning, but I didn't, somehow.

The last few meters I did not drag myself with a shadow rope, but simply jumped off and walked, thankfully it was not too deep. It was still scary, of course, but there was no other option. Nobody came to chew me up, and I fell out on the river shore. I had no energy to kiss the ground, or to prepare the camp or other nonsense. I only managed to crawl (literally) ten meters into the woods and lean my back against a tree.

And then came the darkness.

I woke up closer to dawn to find myself being eaten by mosquitoes. Apparently, even if there weren't any in the middle of the river, they were flying in swarms here. When I realized that at this rate, I was going to be eaten alive, I got up and walked to the water. I needed fire, food, and mosquito repellent.

And if the latter was completely out of reach, I could try to get the first and the second thing in the list. There was a rather expensive gas lighter in my pocket (not mine, but a colleague's; I wanted to return it today, but in these circumstances I’m glad I didn’t), so I hoped it won’t stop working because it got wet. There must have been some fish in the river, in addition to the monsters, that I could try to catch.

In short, it was better to start doing things, rather than feeding forest-dwellers with my own body.

The gathering of driftwood and branches for the fire went surprisingly quick and with no complications. I didn't encounter a single goblin, wolf, bear, or anything else that would try to eat me. I did, however, find a few different herbs that I felt were promising ingredients for alchemical experiments. I picked them up and tagged them right in my pockets, and carefully placed the few that had really tangible magical property right in my wallet, which dried up by this point.

I had to use some of the money for kindling, because I didn't have the strength nor the motivation to find normal chaff. But the fire for two hundred rubles was very bright and almost smokeless, worth the investment.

Warmed up and even more hungry, I went fishing. Have you ever tried fishing with shadows? Strangely enough, I even liked it. Probably because it wasn't straining for me. Not after dragging a whole log with a shadow. I just sat down at the very edge of the steep bank, looked into the clear and clean water and waited. And when a few big fishes did show up, I picked up these water dwellers with their own shadows, pulling them out of the water and brutally killing them.

The legends and songs could have been written about my attempts to gut a fish with a three-centimeter penknife trinket that was attached to my house-keys, said songs would consist entirely out of curses and swear words. However, our story is not about that.

Though, I have to say, the charcoal-grilled fish is inexpressibly delicious, especially after nearly three days of starvation. It was purely out of a reluctance to strain my stomach that I limited myself to a small amount of food. I refuse, having survived all of those ‘adventures’, to die because I overate.

I fell asleep almost happy.

* * *