A instrumental version of the original theme song to a certain wildly popular pet battle-based anime played in the background as Fey entered the battle arena, a large circular platform made of plain gray stone. Each instance of the arena contained enough seating for thousands, but there were was no audience for this first match of the preliminary round between two players who were not internet celebrities.

“You ready, Amethyst?” Fey asked her most senior pet.

Amethyst squeaked enthusiastically. (“Let’s eviscerate them!” She had recently learned the word ‘eviscerate’ and it was currently her favourite.)

Fey still did not understand the specifics of the Squeak language, but there was a particular sharpness to the translation of ‘eviscerate’ that made her wince. “Okay, calm down. We need to win with the minimum amount of force and without giving away most of your skills.”

Amethyst squeaked disappointedly. (“But that’s boring.”)

“It’s more important to get to the finals,” Fey said sternly.

Similar to the structure of the laser tag tournament, the pet tournament consisted of a preliminary round of ten matches with pets battling randomly chosen opponents in the same level category, followed by a ten-round knockout tournament in the finals to determine a winner. Players were allowed to issue commands and use any skills that relied on the player-pet bond, but were strictly forbidden from stepping onto the battle platform itself or initiating any skill or ability against the opponent’s pet that did not originate from their own pet.

Pets were allowed to wear any equipment they could physically carry into the arena. Amethyst’s opponent, a bright white frost wolf, was wearing a leather harness that would provide some defence and studded with spikes that looked mainly decorative.

Amethyst was wearing one of Caleb’s custom creations, an ultrathin body suit that precisely matched the hue and transparency of her natural membrane and was somehow able to stretch and adapt to her full range of size changes while still doubling the defensive power of her Double Membrane ability and offer a decent amount of magical defence. Covering even her face, the suit was nearly invisible and Amethyst looked unarmoured to anyone who had never seen her without the suit on.

Fey’s opponent, an elven archer based on her leather armour and longbow, only saw the small King Slime’s crown at the base of her bubble-arm, which looked entirely decorative. The archer smirked, anticipating an easy victory.

Fey was the kind of person who took some effort to look fairly inconspicuous and unremarkable, but would then feel irritated after being treated dismissively. (*paradoxical*) Seeing the smirk, she began plotting her opponent’s ignominious death.

“That wolfie thing will definitely bite you. Just poison it. A lot. That should be enough.”

Amethyst still looked disappointed that evisceration was off the table and hopped onto the battle platform with a decidedly unenthusiastic attitude, looking rather lifeless even by beginner slime standards.

In contrast, Arctic, a wolf the same height as Boris though only about half the mass, trotted in with ears pointing forward and a threatening show of teeth.

Amethyst appeared to break out in a cold sweat but was actually secreting a layer of poisonous slime.

The frost wolf wasted no time charging in and closing its jaws around the slime, only to spit her out with a surprised whine as soon as she came in contact with its tongue.

Fey read Amethyst’s poison choice off the system notification and raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Really? Bitterbug poison?”

In one of those incomprehensible feats of frightening competency she frequently displayed, Mimi had taken the month since the pet tournament had been announced to collect, buy, or trade for a sample of every poison and venom available in the eastern part of the continent, and Amethyst’s repertoire now contained over three hundred options with a huge range of damage infliction and side effects. Bitterbugs, which looked exactly as one would expect if a game designer had started with a bitter melon and turned it into a caterpillar, were only debatably poisonous when it came to inflicting damage – less than the passive regeneration of anyone above level 10 – but were so bitter to taste as to be debilitating if eaten.

Fey’s opponent called her pet back and administered an antidote, which made Fey raise an eyebrow (judgementally). The tournament allowed players to use up to three consumable items per match, and this seemed like a waste on a side effect that was unpleasant but ultimately harmless.

The archer glared at Fey across the arena, making Fey smirk. “You were the one who made dumb assumptions,” she muttered under her breath. “Can we get a little more serious now?” she called over to Amethyst, who squeaked in a way that reminded her of a teenager being forced to do chores.

Recovered, the frost wolf advanced again. Clearly wary of ingesting more poison, it opted for swiping attacks with its claws. A canid’s shoulders were not built for this type of movement, so the attacks lacked strength, but a blow was still able to send the diminutive Amethyst flying through the air.

Landing on the other side of the arena, Amethyst rolled upright and changed the shape of her bubble into a wide, shallow scoop. As the wolf came charging over to attack again, she accurately flung a glob of poisonous slime that splattered over its eyes, nose, and mouth.[i]

The wolf yelped, this time in true pain as Amethyst had chosen the truly toxic poison of a death toad, a higher level poison that increased its damage the longer a poison effect lasted and would not resolve without an antidote. It made to return to its owner again, but the archer yelled, “Just finish it quickly!”

Snarling, the wolf ran over and again engulfed Amethyst in its huge jaws.

Fey tsked in sympathy for what was to come. Her opponent was making the classic assumption that once you were poisoned, you could not be poisoned more.

A howl of pain as hellweed, the magically enhanced cousin of furyweed, was stacked on top of the existing poison. Panicked and enraged, the wolf bit and unleashed its magic uncontrollably, its saliva freezing and random ice crystals growing several feet from the arena floor. Fey had a moment to worry about frost damage given Amethyst’s relatively (keyword “relatively”) low magic defence, but relaxed when the system notification showed that she had created a warming potion for herself.

The wolf was now trying to spit Amethyst out, but the slime wedged herself behind its teeth, adding a new poison to the mix every time her Poison Slime ability cooled down. Its health was going down by the hundreds every second.

“Arctic! Come back!” The archer tried desperately to recall her pet so she could administer another antidote, but by this point, the side effects of the various poisons meant the frost wolf could barely stand, let alone walk across the arena.

Fey cringed at the last few moments before the wolf’s death. Not a pretty way to die.

It finally toppled to the ground and turned into a flash of light, leaving a slimy-looking Amethyst behind. (As a slime, Amethyst is always slime-y, but you get the idea.)

Amethyst hopped back to Fey, still slightly sulky about not being able to eviscerate her opponent but mollified by the fact that she had been able to try out so many of her newly acquired poisons.

“Good… job, Amethyst,” Fey said, not being able to fault the slime for doing exactly what she was told, but also unable to express too much exuberance at the morbid way they had won. She picked up her pet.

“Oooh, snit.” (The word wasn’t ‘snit’.) With now level 12 Immunity, Fey was used to ignoring all sorts of poisons and handling Amethyst regardless of her skill usage, and this was the first time since Poison Slime had been so majorly improved that Fey had come into contact with it.

A huge flood of notifications came in as twelve different poison effects were applied and partially nullified by Immunity. Fey did some high pressure math to estimate whether her life was in danger.

The answer came out to be “a little bit”, with the total damage coming out to approximately one and a half times her maximum health. Fey judged it was safe enough that she could tell Amethyst to secrete some healing potion rather than an antidote. With her level of Immunity, she could now heal from even higher level poisons that typically would not resolve without an antidote.

Pale but alive, she dealt with the aftermath of the match by collecting her winnings and exiting the arena. She caught up with her party, finding that Blade and Firefly had also won their first match.

“Anything we need to work on?” Fey asked. The next match was not until the next real-life day, so they had time to do some quick training.

All the matches were publicly broadcast and available for viewing after the fact, which was why hiding as many skills as possible in the early phase was an important strategy. Mimi looked up the pets slated to be their next opponents and opened the footage of their first matches for analysis.

◊◊◊

“Hya!”

Arwyn’s foot slammed through the target as she executed the last roundhouse kick in a set of ten. Her eyes widened as her partner lost his grip and the target went flying.

It was not an uncommon occurrence for people to misjudge their grip while holding targets for their partners and have it kicked out of their hands, but that was something that other people did. In her memory, Arwyn had never done this to anyone but a rank beginner.

The last few months had been a period of subtle but steady improvement in her kicking technique that had ultimately resulted in this happening. Under the influence of her nightly fighting in Fantasia, her previous picture-perfect movements had undergone minute changes in balance and position to maximize the force she could generate. Used to operating an avatar with enhanced strength, speed, and stamina, she tended to push her real life body to its limits just to approximate what she could do in game.

The change had not gone unnoticed by her instructors. Though she had been advancing through her belt levels without issue, and had in fact passed her black belt exam with full marks, her actual fighting ability had essentially plateaued two years after starting tae kwon do. Her current improvement represented a major breakthrough.

The grandmaster pulled her aside to compliment her and ask if anything had precipitated the change. Arwyn then had to explain the concept of virtual reality gaming to the eighty-nine-year-old.

Despite his age, the grandmaster’s eyes were bright with vitality. “Very interesting. Maybe I’ll try.” Bowing, he wandered away to converse with his assistant instructors.

Arwyn had the feeling that she had just triggered something, but she was not sure exactly what it was. Shrugging, she went back to hold the target for her partner to kick.

Arwyn: Hey mom, are you busy next week? There’s someone I want you to meet

Mom: Who?

Arwyn: His name is Leander. I met him in Fantasia

Mom: I can do after 6pm on Thursday or any time Sunday

Arwyn: Sunday for lunch works

Mom: Okay, I’ll meet you at the hot pot[ii] place at noon

Arwyn: See you then

[i] Mucous membranes line the surface of multiple organ systems such as the digestive tract, respiratory system, and eyes, and tend to be more permeable to toxins compared to the skin. Subfootnote: “Mucous” is the adjective and “mucus” is the noun. It is a pet peeve of the author when people get this wrong.

[ii] This is referring to a style of meal where a communal pot of broth is set in the middle of the table under constant heat and diners immerse a variety of meats, vegetables, noodles, and tofu-based products to cook them before scooping them out to eat.