I cleared my throat and waited an appropriate amount of time for the tension to build. “I have the power,” I said with a dramatic flourish. “To suck the life out of people.”

Brookie furrowed his brow. “Hmm,” he said. “That sounds powerful. Certainly stronger than most of the combat Brands the Brokers sell. How much MP does it cost? All the power in the world won’t do you very much good if you can only use a few times a day.”

“That’s the thing,” I said. “It doesn’t cost anything. It generates MP.”

Brookie’s head snapped back. “Wait… what? How is that possible? Every Skill costs something.”

“Don’t ask me,” I said. “I just got to this world. That’s how it works. So? Do you still think powering through the Adventurer’s Guild ranks is impossible?”

Brookie rubbed his chin again. Frantic this time. “I think I finally understand why rissians are so averse to Black Magic Skills. It is unnerving to know you are in a room with someone who can kill you at a moment’s notice.”

“Says the guy that could snap my neck in a second,” I countered. I tried giving him a disarming smile, but he didn’t respond to it. “Seriously, though. I not going to just kill people because I can.”

“Yes, but that’s not what they say. Anyone with a Skill like that is supposed to be a cold-blooded killer. Just look at Malice Heartrender.”

“Who?”

“Nobody you would know,” Brookie said, waving away my concern. “Just a famous criminal and serial murderer with a powerful Black Magic Skill. He has the largest bounty on his head in the world.” Brookie took a deep breath. I could tell he was considering our earlier conversation. “I agree that your Skill sounds powerful,” he finally said. “With it, I suppose advancing in the Adventurer’s Guild is a plan with at least the possibility of success.”

“Then it’s decided,” I said. “I’ll go kill enough monsters for them to give me access to that library. You can look for a cure your own way. We’ll see who wins.”

Brookie laughed, deep and from his belly. “Very well, little orgkin,” he said. “We will compete to see who gets to save your life first. What do I get if I win?”

“My undying loyalty,” I joked. Not a real joke. I meant it. If Brookie saved my life I’d do whatever he wanted me to do to get us both home. “So what exactly do I have to do to rank up in the Adventurer’s Guild?”

Brookie shrugged. “Kill monsters? I am not overly familiar with their internal political structure. All I know is they work on contracts of varying difficulty, specializing in the extermination of monsters. Some monsters can be sold for parts regardless of when or where they’re found, but when they threaten the lives of rissians, special contracts are ordered to have them exterminated. Well, we should not stay here any longer than necessary. If the spies hired to follow me find out we talked at length, they might begin an investigation into you.”

“Yeah, uh, just so we’re clear we are not working together. Not yet,” I said. “When I’m not dying, then we can talk.”

“And I will endeavor to assist you,” Brookie vowed. He walked over to the desk he’d jammed up against the door and hauled it back to its proper place. I could hear papers shifting around within the drawers. Whoever’s office this was would probably notice the damage and tampering. I just hoped they wouldn’t be able to figure out I was involved. “Remember,” Brookie said as a final warning before opening the door, “you must not tarry here in Oxenraith. I suggest you leave immediately. The further away you are before nightfall, the safer you will be from… it.” He poked his head out the door, then motioned for me to come forward. “You go. I will be in touch. Ask for messages for you from Lady Moxie and be as careful about disclosing our arrangement as you are discussing that Skill of yours.”

“I will,” I promised. “Where at the Porter’s do I go to—”

Brookie disappeared. He gave no signal, no warning. One second he was there, the next he was gone. Spooky.

“Never mind,” I said to myself. I could probably figure out where to go to send and receive messages by just asking a Porter. That Skill of his… was pretty impressive. I had to admit there were still parts of Earris that downright impressed me.

I returned to the hall to see it wasn’t occupied. Nobody seemed to be looking for me, so I returned to the spiral stairs. They were far less intimidating the second time I used them. You just sort of stepped onto them as they went by, then walked to the nearest handle near the center to wait for your floor to go by. Sure, the thing could probably chop me in half if I tripped at an inopportune moment, but the same held true for elevators back home, to a certain extent. I rode the stairs down to the busy interchange on the twelfth floor. Nobody really remarked on my unusually short height in such a crowd. It was a short walk to the Blue Branch concourse. This time, I didn’t get winded taking the stairs. In fact, I was feeling pretty damn good. There was still a gnawing ache in my gut, but with the Pain Taker’s blessing, I could almost totally ignore it. It was almost like I wasn’t even sick anymore. If I could just find a Skill to regrow hair, I might even be able to pass for healthy. At least… for a while.

In the halls of the Blue Branch, I passed a few students with blue streaks in their hair. I gave them respectful nods, finding that was a custom that persisted across cultures. When I reached Professor Clarice Finkman’s office and knocked, she immediately called out to welcome me inside.

“Clarice?” I prompted, as I cracked open the door. “It’s Vince. I’m back.”

The professor was at her desk writing a letter. She quickly folded it and dropped it into the top drawer of her desk. “Welcome back, Mr. Koutz,” she said. “Please take a seat. I will out-process you shortly.”

I did as instructed, giving a glance out the window to admire the way very little smog filtered up into the air above the rissian city. “Well, I met with Professor Lightglow,” I told her. “He wasn’t able to heal me, but he gave me a treatment that helped a lot.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Clarice said in a perfectly neutral tone that indicated no such feeling. She moved straight to business. “I have finished processing the results of your interview. University policy requires that I inform you that your test shows several risk factors for black magic Skill development. While you do not currently have citizenship with any specific nation, permanent settlement within the FSR would require you to register on their “Dangerous Persons” list. This would restrict your ability to purchase certain Brands from the Broker’s Guild and prohibit you from having children.”

“Sorry, what? I’m a dangerous person?”

“You possess the personality traits that indicate that, yes,” Clarice confirmed. “As described by the Diagnostic Manual of Personality Shaping. There is a treatment offered by the Church of Marketh which can take you off this list. I would advise you to take it.”

“That’s just going to be the mind-slave thing again, isn’t it?” I asked. “Forget it. Does every country in this world have a list like that?”

“Only the Falon-Sten-Raith Republic has recognized Skill Shaping as a legitimate science,” Clarice said, then added a belated, “unfortunately.”

“So, no?” I guessed. “Nobody else does it? Then forget it. I’ll just move somewhere else. Do you need anything more from me, or can I get my payment and that travel voucher now?” Nothing about Clarice made me want to stick around her office longer than I had to. It’s not like we were going to have a fun chat about one of her many hobbies.

Clarice opened a low drawer on her desk and pulled out a sealed envelope. “Here is your travel voucher,” she said, pushing it across to me. “It is good for one trip through the main Porter’s network. If you would like to travel to an end node, you will need to purchase that ticket yourself.” She flipped open a binder and jotted down a quick note with her quill while I took the envelope.