Montage a Trois Part 3

Congratulations on surviving to another Patch! Patch 2 represents a system wide rebalance and introduces a number of interesting mechanics we know you’ll enjoy playing with! A number of past items and Feats have been retooled with the new rules in mind, and countless more have been added.

[Patch 2 Highlights]

Dice & Dice Pools: Outside of special circumstances, Dice Pools remain either an Attribute + Attribute or an Attribute + Skill roll, however the total number of Dice has been reduced. The higher Attribute or Skill now determines the total size of the Pool, and the lower Attribute or Skill upgrades an equivalent number of Dice to d8s. A d8 is still marked as Successful on a 5 or higher, but crits on both 7 and 8. Feats or Items that add Dice to a roll are always six-sided unless specified otherwise.

            Example: You are rolling to Attack and have Agility 10 and Martial Arts 13. Instead of rolling 23d6, you roll a combined 10d8 and 3d6. Since Agility is lower than Martial Arts, its 10 Dice upgrade the 13 from Martial Arts.

            Example: You are rolling to endure a long climb up the side of a building and have Endurance 12 and Climbing 5. Instead of rolling 17d6, you roll a combined 5d8 and 7d6, the lower Climbing score having upgraded the higher Endurance.

Havoc Dice: Certain dangerous situations are more volatile than can be adequately represented simply by raising the Difficulty Threshold. For these, we have introduced Havoc Dice. Havoc Dice are rolled alongside your Pool and can be either 6- or 4-sided, with a 2 or lower being a Failure. Three 1s on your Havoc Dice are a Critical Failure and are counted twice. A Failure cancels out a Success. If you have as many or more Failures than Successes, the result is a Whiff.

            Example: A Player without your Feat One Amongst Many is surrounded by four relatively easy opponents and one who is their equal, thus 4d6 and 1d4 in Havoc Dice are added to all of the Player’s Pools to act in this situation. (Incidentally, One Amongst Many has been retroactively upgraded to a Major Feat)

            Example: You have been blinded in a surprise attack and are now trying to escape through a large crowd of panicked bystanders. 8d6 Havoc Dice are added to your Pool simply to represent the chaos of the situation.

Pyrrhic Victory/Catastrophic Success: Critical Failures can lead to situations in which the Player achieves their goal at a cost when the total Difficulty Threshold was not met, or is ultimately more successful than they intended if the Difficulty Threshold was met. The nature of these effects depends on the context of the roll. This does not apply to forced Whiffs.

Extra Successes in Combat: Creative abuse of the system of assigning Extra Successes in combat after seeing the Results has been entertaining but ultimately caustic to space-time in this reality. Players will now have to pre-assign any potential Extra Successes prior to rolls. We apologize for these technical difficulties.

[Producer Reward]

We owe you some thanks for inadvertently testing the new combat rules ahead of Patch 2, and would additionally like to commend your commitment to character and minimal metagaming. There was no planned Popularity Poll for the week, but in our appreciation of your efforts, we allowed Viewers to select two items from the list of potential Rewards:

Abyssal Lens – Black answers to blacker questions. A suitably talented or powerful diviner may use the smoky obsidian orb to effortlessly penetrate even Heaven’s defenses. A lesser diviner, however, risks death or worse in the attempt.

Sage Binding Silks – These two ten meter long, thin white silk ribbons are thin enough to spool around your finger, yet strong enough to hold an elephant. Those restrained by a ribbon who try to escape via sorcery add 2 Upgraded Havoc Dice to their attempts.

[Accept Challenge?]

With your former Challenge being the new base rule for combat, you’ll need a new one if you want to continue sending Rewards to the bottom five members of your Party. As a reminder, you’ll be unable to back out of the following Challenge once you’ve accepted until we’ve determined that your Party can approximately operate as peers. Thus far, you’ve granted them: 75 Experience, +1 Random Attribute, +3 Random Skill.

Challenge: All numerical Results for rolls, your Health, and your Corruption totals will be hidden to you, apart from the rare auditory cue. These can be inferred through other various, specific means, such as your Teaching Feats, but in general can only be determined through observation.

Rewards: Bottom five Party members receive: 100 Experience, +1 Random Attribute, +1 Chosen Skill every week starting the moment the Challenge is accepted.

My eyes scanned up and down the wall of text half in shock. The rebalance was to be expected, but I had somewhat assumed, apparently naïvely, that the Producers would simplify the already byzantine rules over time. This was a Patch? It had more changes than most system’s new editions.

“Alright, kid, hit the showers,” I said, pocketing my laser pointer. “You’re done for the day.”

Smoothie unceremoniously flopped over where he was, asleep before he hit the ground, tensed bestial muscles turning to goo beneath his fur. He was taking to the training well now that we’d moved on from manners to murder, but the poor boy only had one good training sesh in him before his kitten brain needed a reset. I reached down and scratched behind an ear. This was a cute shot; it was a shame we’d have to edit it out on account of the sudden and conspicuous appearance of a Palantir in my lap. I was all for easter eggs to drive engagement, but it didn’t escape me that the Abyssal Lens was the first Item to start with an ominous warning in its description.

First things first: I left the Patch notes alone, scooped up the large black orb, and took it into my alchemy lab. The Viewers must have known something I didn’t, because I couldn’t fathom what to do with the thing other than find a dark place to hide it. The Lens radiated destructive promise in a way that called to the ego, something about its obsidian surface making me want to stare deep into my warped reflection to see what I might find. It was inflicting a hidden Willpower check to be sure, but worryingly, it felt as though it was being continuously applied, battering into my mental defenses again and again. Holding it up to my face caused the walls in my peripheral vision to blend and fisheye away from me, as if the light in the room was trying to flee from the sphere. ‘What secrets lay behind your skin and skull?’ the crystal ball begged to ask. ‘What horrors lay hidden in the dark of your mind?’

All that was to be seen could be known if only I dared to look. One glance, and I could find the others, neither Alan’s inability to remember names or any supernatural defenses able to stop me. From there, I could observe enough of their surroundings to devise a way to contact them, maybe even check on their families back on our original Earth to have some ready reassurance for them at our reunion. My own family as well, I guess, though they wouldn’t have noticed my disappearance yet.

I spun the orb on the tip of my finger like it was a basketball and promptly got the Harlem Globetrotters theme stuck in my head. “Heh. Harlem Globetrotters versus Evil Sphere – hire me, Hanna-Barbera.” That was neat; the spinning made the reflected light spaghettify around the surface like a black hole’s event horizon. “At least you’re not another Peach. Alright, asshole, let’s find you somewhere I’ll completely forget about in three days.”

If this had been the Viewers’ way of telling me to seduce Maki’s ex, Zelda, then they were badly overestimating her abilities. The woman had been harrowed by a passing encounter with Funikugami’s protection when trying to read my Tarot – using the Abyssal Lens would shatter her. It would probably shatter me, if I could even figure out how to work it. The Lens could whisper whatever promises it wanted in my head, but I wasn’t making my first roll under these new rules an improvised attempt to pierce the Veil via cursed artifact. Maybe one of the others had happened to inadvertently specc into Divination the way I had Sex Magic, or maybe just having it around would lead to entertaining chaos.

Regardless, it was something for the future. At least the ribbons were the familiar combination of immediately useful but horny. With some Artifact Tokens to make them extendable, they could make decent graduation presents for Annie.

The knock-off Palantir found its home in a wicker basket underneath a dense layer of dried lavender, and I returned to the Patch notes without the added worry of what ‘death or worse’ could mean.

Shaking my head at my second read through, I hunched over a desk in the lab and busted out some pen and paper. I used to cringe when Nasim did this sort of thing. Spreadsheets weren’t my idea of a fun time, and part of the magic of a new game were those moments of discovery and insight that made up the gradual process of learning. But this was no game from my perspective. Once I accepted the Challenge, there’d be no way of intuiting my way around the re-balance, and there were so many rules interactions in Love Fight that with a Patch this big I was sure the Producers had given us abridged notes.

Just about the only tangible math skills time had preserved in Alan’s life had been those related to tabletop gaming, or more specifically, the arguments about tabletop gaming I’d had with Nasim. James, of course, had cheated his way through math class and remembered nothing. But between Alan’s skills and my spread of Dice across Research, Physics, and Medicine, I didn’t need to do any calculations to grasp how the new rules would affect the probability of base Successes on their own. Converting Dice with a 33% chance of Success to those with 50% versus buying more Dice, meant investing in Skills and Attributes would now mostly be about making those checks more reliable, rather than just ticking up the average number of Successes – taller versus wider probability curves, in other words.

What I was more interested in were those big swings from Crits, both positive and negative. To Alan’s experienced eyes, it felt like the new rules were primarily oriented around controlling the peaks. In combat, you could balance around Crits with opposed rolls. My fight with Ma had been pretty tight and down to the wire, for example. But you only had to look at the night with Aminah and Shania to see the problem with the old system. A handful of uncontested Criticals had forever altered the trajectory of their lives and potentially that of the entire neighborhood. In the current system several of the rolls on the rooftop would surely have been Catastrophic Successes. I’d turned two wallflowers into hentai protagonists and apparently created multiple sex cults. Too much more of that sort of thing, and this whacky world would become downright ludicrous.

I did some back of the envelope math, ignoring Havoc Dice for now. Under the old rules, my Aura + Erotic Sorcery chances for at least one Critical Success were around 80%, and around 20% for two. In retrospect, I could have been a lot bolder with the Skill. After the Patch, the new chances were around 70% for one, and 10% for two.

“But what does that mean, math man?” I asked, derogatorily directing the jab at whichever unnamed part of my psyche was currently holding the pen.

The problem was that I’d never get an idea for what constituted one Difficulty Die of either size, the x-factors in the rebalance. Since I did have One Amongst Many, the only tangible example I’d been given was the one about escaping while blinded through a panicking crowd. Slapdash envelope math said that on 8d6 there was about a ten percent chance for a Critical Failure. So, as long as I could compare any given situation to trying to escape after being blinded through a panicked crowd, I had myself a measuring stick for Crit Fails, which was to say—

“This isn’t at all helpful, you nerd.”

I looked scornfully down at my notes. Character Creation had been a mess in Love Fight, but at the very least, upgrading yourself had been relatively straightforward. There was a surplus of options, granted, but as long as you had an idea of where you wanted to go, you knew how to get there. This on the other hand was almost anti-human in its complexity. Instead of replacing the former linear increases in Difficulty and expected Successes, there was now additional probability-based Difficulty scaling and multiplicative increases to individual Dice. Without knowing how often and to what degree I’d encounter Havoc Dice and how bad Pyrrhic Victories or Catastrophic Successes were, I could barely make educated guesses. On top of that, my existing build had undergone dramatic changes. For example, Rule of Cool now read:

[Major Feat] Rule of Cool –Your physicality baffles belief, allowing you to casually use attacks and maneuvers out of action movies. Not only are you not penalized by engaging in flashy, cinematic, or unnecessarily risky stunts, but when doing so you may ignore up to 3 Havoc Dice.

Honestly, it seemed better now, but the unexpected change was still jarring. I couldn’t imagine how fucked the others felt; they had the combat rules sprung on them as well.

I caught my leg tapping and shaking the table. Stopping it, I took a calming breath and a moment to turn my focus inward, to better listen to my feelings and instincts. The Patch wasn’t bothering me, and the Challenge was whatever. Eight billion people on this planet lived without instant, quantifiable feedback after their every action; I’d make do. Those were not the reasons I was hunched over a messy scrawl of notes on probabilities like a coked-out gambler.

No, the calculations were primarily an emotional pursuit. I was fleeing the discomfort of the unknown. The Patch Notes had tugged on a specific sense of dread that had been creeping on with every direct message from the Producers.

It just felt like they were having a bit too much fun and were either largely ambivalent or actively excited that it was at everyone and everything, literally everything’s, expense. They had described the ‘show’ as a pilot made to test their system, but more and more it felt like the point of all this was the testing. They didn’t care about the end result. The system was designed to grow more labyrinthine and less human with time and to be broken over and over again, so they could put it back together a little stranger every time. It was more entertaining for the Audience that way. For everyone else it was a lit fuse. The system governed every aspect of how we interacted with reality; as it grew more alien, so would we, and so would our effect on the world. We’d been inflicted on this universe, and this universe had been inflicted on us – that was the show. They didn’t pick eight Players so that some would survive. They chose eight Players for the same reason children built sandcastles, to watch them be smashed apart.

Grim.

Hopefully I was just paranoid. How did one even comprehend the motivations of extra-dimensional perverts? Maybe it was the nerves from being so close to our trip to the Call of Cthulhu genre of roleplaying game.

I was in the middle of running through the numbers in various hypothetical scenarios, hoping that I could brute force my way into some grander insight, when Annie poked her head over my shoulder. “Binomial distributions and mass functions? How much does Alchemy come down to probability?” she asked concerned.

“Just don’t bet your life on it, and it’ll be fine,” I said, happy to move on from the topic for now. Victor had always been much smarter than he gave himself credit for, and we would be reunited soon enough. Without the Challenge obscuring his rolls, he’d be able to help me hash all this out fairly quickly.

“Very reassuring, James. I can’t wait for the sinking feeling in my stomach the next time you hand me a potion.”

I smiled, accepting the Producer’s Challenge before dismissing the notifications. “How’s she holding up?”

“She’s not. What did you do to her?”

“What did I do to her? You were the instructor. Me and the Smooth Criminal were hard at work inside. You should’a seen him; the way he’s absorbing his lessons is nuts. I don’t know why more people don’t teach martial arts to cats.”

“A question for the ages, Shifu,” said Annie with a chuckle, turning around for the living room. “Want me to get started on lunch? Not sure how much you’ll get out of Maki without a break.”

I quickly followed her out, rolling a Deception to keep the panic out of my voice. Annie had asked if she could use the Concord grapes on the counter for tuna salad this morning, and I would sooner die than learn what she could have possibly meant by that.

“Aha! But you’ve both had your break, and now that you have, there’s one more lesson in store before lunch!”

Maki groaned a pathetic whimper from the couch. She was laid out flat, a lifeless body bag of pulverized meat. Yesterday had been miserable for her, and despite two naps, had finished with her dead asleep before the sun finished setting. By the end of it, I’d gotten her Endurance to 4 Dice, and her Agility and Martial Arts to 2 a piece. Overnight, a combination of my stupid jizz powers and Icon Feats, the brutality of the day’s training, and her own prior spiritual refinement had led to her growing to Martial Arts 3, Strength 2 and Aura 2.

We’d hit the girls’ Experience cap early today, and before I’d sent the two to train together alone so I could work with Smoothie, Maki was at Endurance 5, Agility 3, Strength 3, and Martial Arts 3. In other words, she was ready to leave the nest. She had her HP bar, her light, medium, and heavy attacks, and her basic throw – it was now up to her to translate her own existing skills onto the template. I wasn’t sure what that would mean exactly, but I had full confidence in Maki’s ability to become a late-lifecycle DLC character, the sort of fighter that inspired equally as many angry posts about being overpowered as she did horny fanart and cosplays. Maki in her Miko outfit with the ability to control the pace of battle and the rules of engagement, I could picture it now. She’d have a stylish library-core outfit for her second costume and a festival kimono for the third.

I looked forward to seeing what she came up with, however, the priestess had volunteered the entirety of today to training in the Black City way. Waking up twice as strong, fast, and tough had given her that much-needed motivation to continue the suffering. So long as I made sure she was capable of a threesome by the end of the night, she was down with whatever I threw at her. Well, her exact words were, “If the grand master of this most esteemed school is somehow capable of the miracle of restraint, then he may move me in whatever way he like today,” but it didn’t take a genius to read through the lines.

“How?” croaked my prone girlfriend. I took that to mean, ‘How did you manage to afflict me with Erotic Sorcery from afar?’

“Oho!” I rocked on my heels, exceptionally proud of myself. “You mean I managed to Curse an Ishida priestess without her knowledge? Ha! This anecdote’s going to go so hard at the next family dinner.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “So, you snuck it in with the Blessing. I should have known. How did you activate it without me noticing?”

I laughed victoriously and stuck a finger up. “A-ha! That’s the brilliant thing, you see—”

“You timed it.” interrupted Maki again, stroking her chin in thought. “Hm.”

“Hey! I let you do your Great Detective schtick yesterday.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I more-or-less let you do your—”

Annie cut in, “Sorry, just very quickly, could one of you spell things out? I don’t actually know what happened.”

“Thank you, Annie, I would love to. See? That’s what we call courtesy in the Martial World.” I turned to my student. “Unless things are really dire, you should always let your adversary revel in their moment of triumph. Just because you’re beating someone to death with your fists doesn’t mean you can’t be polite about it – something that uncouth priestesses will clearly never understand.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you just saying that now because you feel like gloating, or do you mean it?”

“Of course! How are you going to one up them with your own triumphant monologue later if you don’t, hm? Think ahead, Annie, think ahead.” I tapped my temple. She looked skeptical. “Anyway, as I was about to explain, it was a simple spell to cause her arousal to rise sharply anytime her core muscles weren’t under tension. I knew you’d want to work on her balance.”

It was the heightened, meaner version of the same enchantment I used to make sure Shania could gain the experience multiplier from Sex Ed without actually having to do anything sexual in front of her brothers. As long as she threw herself into the workout, then everything stayed PG. The Producers were either generous enough to allow it to count or were just satisfied by the interplay of the girl’s shame versus her exhibition fetish. Maki’s enchantment was the same but harsher in that she could actually reach a full knee-trembling orgasm if she slacked off. I knew the thought of humiliating herself in front of a beautiful woman would make her lock in.

“I wanted more insight about the limits and hazards of Petitioning entities for power,” I continued, “so this morning when Maki Petitioned me, I snuck in a timed Curse as well. I also wanted to see if she would notice, and if so, when. No reason we can’t all get some training in.”

Maki grimaced. “Damn you. I’m regretfully forced to admit the idea was worthwhile after hearing your reasoning. Well done. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks!”

“Though I’m choosing to remain upset until the pain stops.”

“As is your right.”

“Our Clan’s training in binding and bargaining with Kami means that I may have noticed the Curse had I known to be on my guard, but even then, there would have been little I could have done about it. That is a fundamental risk in dealing with the Divine and the Immaterial in general. Once you invite something into your mind or spirit, you cede a great deal of control,” she said, speaking to Annie directly. Considering the sliver of the Carrion God’s rib permanently lodged in my soul, I didn’t need to be told. “Be aware of that when we arrive at your parents’ home. Those invitations are rarely intentional; your doom can start as simple as not looking away from the pale face in the darkened window of an abandoned house, or picking the wrong book off the shelf in the library.”

“Wow.” Annie gulped. “Glad I always chickened out of breaking into the old sanitoriums at night in high school.”

Fucking crazy that kids still did that in this universe, and crazier still that she’d said sanitoriums, plural, but more importantly, “A very concerning second example there, Maki.”

“I agree, which is why,” she paused, lips tight, her words bitter on her tongue, “it might be wise if you continued to occasionally slip in a Curse here and there so that I can train my inner awareness and spiritual control – ideally, something resulting in less pain, James.”

I nodded; made sense to me. “Ah, like Inspector Clouseau and Cato from The Pink Panther movies except less racist and with magic – an excellent idea. I’d be happy to. I mean, I would have done that anyway, but I guess I can be a bit more intentional now. What about you, Annie? Want me to ambush you semi-regularly, keep you on your toes? You know, like a more literal Inspector Clouseau and Cato thing except less racist ‘cause I’ll have lines, presumably. Not that it’s a high bar to clear.”

She looked to the other woman for help. “Um…”

Maki rescued her. “What I don’t understand is how you timed it for the moment I stepped onto the platform. That was what initially threw me off. I thought you may have made a covert agreement with the proto-kami of your gym.”

I dismissed the implied compliment with a wave. Flattery was great, but it had to be earned. “Nothing so fancy. Annie and I are seasoned athletes. Every minute of a full day of training is mapped out, catalogued, and adjusted for in the future. I can estimate how long Annie will take for breaks pretty well by now and I control the schedule – It was an easy guess to nail the start of your lesson together. Anything beyond that is confirmation bias.”

My smirk grew into a full Cheshire smile. Both women listened intently, having recognized this particular gloating tone (didactic gloating, I called it) as a sign that I’d transitioned us into our next lesson. “You respect my abilities, and you know I’m more than capable of precisely timing a spell for a certain outcome, but in truth the Curse was simply set to slowly ramp up approximately when I knew you’d start. I’ve conditioned you to expect deranged uses of magic and pointlessly elaborate training methods from me, and so I didn’t need to do much to sell the image of hyper-competence. If the spell set in sooner, you’d say, ‘Why would you time it for just when she started trying to explain what we were doing?’ If later, then you might say, ‘How did you make sure it would hit its zenith just when I wanted to take a breather?’” I tapped my temple. “Flexibility of outcomes is at the heart of my James Li Style of Being an Absolute Bastard – much less work that way. You’ll want to start thinking about your own take on it, Annie, if you haven’t already. Being a bastard, that is.”

“Gosh,” she said, blinking at the sudden tone shift. “I thought I’d started to, at least in a fight, but yours sounds a lot more fleshed out.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about it,” I said proudly. “My father, a rapacious thief and liar, was also an absolute bastard. Probably still is, I guess.” I thought of my dad locked away in the Pine Barrens for murder, likely scamming someone out of their cigarettes as we spoke. “Pops’ dickery was always singularly goal-oriented; every deception was meant to serve a purpose, get him to the next step in the series of grand plans that was his ideal life. He always had something specific in mind when he was lying, and he was a good enough liar and a degenerate enough gambler that he was comfortable betting on him getting it. Well, gambling is fine and dandy when you’re up, but it only takes a few bad bets for you to spiral out of control.”

“The thing is, people don’t really mind being tricked or lied to. It’s why they go to magic shows and strip clubs. What they hate is being conned, the feeling that someone is trying to finesse something out of them, and, most of all, the feeling of being used. Once things got bad enough that everyone knew my dad was in the shit, it was pretty much over for him. Suddenly you got this guy that everyone knows is both desperate and a phenomenal liar coming around – it doesn’t matter if he’s actually after something from you or not, you sure as hell aren’t trusting him, and the fact of the matter was, he probably was after something. It didn’t help he had this way of leaning on people that in his fucked-up mind was totally fine. Pops figured so long as he did right by people eventually, it didn’t matter if they were put-out in the interim.”

I gave myself the double-thumbs and beamed. “That’s not a problem with the James Li Style of Being an Absolute Bastard, though. You see, I’m in it for the love of the game.”

“It’s more of a performance?” asked Annie generously.

“You just like being a bastard,” said Maki.

“Bingo,” I said, pointing to Maki. “But hold onto that, Annie. It sounds like that could be the key to unlocking the Annie Shine Style.” My student pinched her chin between her thumb and forefinger and looked down in contemplation. Annie lacked my inherited Li-family spite. Petty malice ran in my blood; she would need some way to replicate it if she was master Black City. “Me? I love being a bastard. It’s fun, it makes me smile, and I’m good at it.” I shrugged. “I put it right between doing right by my conscience and looking cool. If I’m getting to be a bastard without any moral quandaries, then I’m winning far as I’m concerned, no matter if I look like a fool or if I’m in imminent danger of being executed.”

“Those might even be positives, hm?” asked Maki in a dry, sarcastic tone.

“Yep!” She sighed. “But more importantly, because I’m always having a good-ass time being an asshole, I create an air of positive expectations. Instead of asking, ‘Is James up to something?’ people ask, ‘I wonder what James is up to now?’ They don’t sweat what I’m after, because unlike Pops, nine times out of ten, I’m just there for the hijinks—”

Annie clapped her hands and hopped on her heels in excitement. “Oh my God! I just figured out what we’re learning!”

“Oh no.” Maki covered her face with her hand as she too determined what the lesson was about. “We aren’t – of all the techniques and stances to turn your prodigious talent to inventing, James... Must I be a part of this?”

“Yes. You’re a critical element of the lesson. It doesn’t work without you.”

She groaned. “The Happy Idiot is the most annoying thing you’ve ever done, you know that? Perhaps second only to perfecting it.”

“Right? So good!” I threw my head back and laughed, falling into the Stance with a thousand thoughtless micromovements. The Empty-Headed God wrapped my form around its shifting, shapeless shoulders like a well-worn coat. “It’s a cruel joke, but a joke nonetheless, and a solid one, at that. It makes everyone think I’m a hapless moron. That’s hilarious!”

Maki licked her suddenly dry lips and shuddered. “You can’t imagine how disturbing it is in person. It’s like you’re a living absence of conscious thought, the terminus of my ability to reason. I know it should horrify me and yet it doesn’t, it merely frustrates, and even that frustration is hard fought for. I have to cling to it with all my power.” She frowned. “James, it’s…so obviously an assassination technique.”

“Is it?” I asked blithely, voice unreadable. “Are you sure? James Li is many things, but assassin?”

Maki hesitated, brow furrowed. Speaking almost to herself, she said, “No, maybe you’re right. This feeling, it’s—maybe it’s mortal dread at encountering the Divine, fear of the unknown…”

It was fascinating to see Maki’s mind fill in the blanks, turn away from the correct conclusion to find the most palatable alternative – Fascinating and horrible, to so easily beggar her genius. Just a few words and her finely-honed intellect meant nothing. Worse, in fact, it was turned inward, crafting a suitable lie for itself. It was theft. I’d stolen her marvelous genius and devoured it without pause. It tasted awful, like bile at the back of my throat. I’d always known of the Stance’s lethality, but for the first time since creating it, I could truly appreciate the unique monstrosity, the perversion it represented. The Empty-Headed God put the lie to my jovial, heroic himbo act; it took all my whimsical shenanigans and my lackadaisical, good-nature and made them inseparably apart of a flawless killing art.

Now stands a man beside my window, day and night the same/I see his feet beneath the curtains, hear him scratching at the pane

The lines of that terrible goddamn poem ran spontaneously through my head. I blamed my actor brain for its need to absorb and overanalyze anything with meter. ‘Ah, scratching out my name, I got it now,’ came the unbidden realization. In those last, clumsy lines, I’d imagined the demon or whatever haunting the poet as standing over him, crossing out his name, a metaphor for the totality of its control, but he’d meant ‘scratching’ as scrawling or messily writing his name. By the end of the poem, there was no difference between the author and the demon, hence the abrupt meter shift. It has become me, was the message, or, since it was penned as a letter to his doctor, ‘It is becoming me.’

Trite, I decided, not at all clever; unworthy of reading meaning into.

Eh, I was probably being too dramatic. Martial arts did break down into hurting people at the end of the day, and the God was a Master Feat at the bottom of a tree of Feats, a pinnacle secret technique. It was meant to command respect from my peers. In terms of brutality, I mean, hell, Ma’s Ten-Thousand Talons Cloak turned her into a living chainsaw; at least my shit didn’t liquefy people.

I decided to finish my brief lecture and move us to the fun bit. “Those nine times out of ten where I’m just dicking around obscure the one where I’m not. And then, when I do want something out of my being a bastard, I don’t get too attached to any single likely outcome. I go with a flowchart of options, which makes that one time virtually impossible to differentiate from the other nine. Did James Li intentionally create an opening by acting a fool, or was he simply acting a fool and decided to seize a sudden opening?”

The Dice for my Leadership + Charisma teaching roll clattered in my mind as I transitioned us to the actual meat of the lesson. The absence of information was surreal. I knew intellectually that there should have been 8d8 and 2d6 from the Attribute upgrading the Skill, and another 1d6 Luck Die from Paragon of Filial Piety, but there was no feedback apart from the sound. If there were Havoc Dice or if I was suffering from any penalties, I couldn’t tell. I guess I’d have to learn to distinguish the size of Dice Pools by their mental clatter. There was a sudden surge of confidence and insight that definitely felt like I’d gotten a Critical Success, but there was no way to know, not now nor after the fact since we’d already hit the Experience cap for today. Theoretically, the confidence could have been misplaced and the insights incorrect. I could have spent most of my Experience to buy 2 Leadership Dice and increase the girls’ Experience caps by 20, but I wanted the budget for the coming reverse ambush. I would have to live in ignorance for however long it took the others to flesh out their builds.

“But my own philosophy of trickery is unimportant at the end of the day.” I walked over to the console and pulled out a thin weathered wooden box. “You can be inspired by someone’s steez, but you can never replicate it, not really. True cool is specific to the individual. Discovering your personal style is a process of self-actualization, not mimicry.”

I put the antique box down on the coffee table and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of it. The over a century of scratches, stains, and dents on its mahogany surface lent me an air of authority. “That’s why I designed our Happy Idiot Stance to be modular. The base of it is, essentially, just a collection of relaxation exercises and a cultivated and aggressively unbothered attitude, but from there, the individual can develop it however best suits their personality. Personally, I used it as a foundation to create Blissful Assassin, focusing on the deciding blow, and Innocuous Oaf, my answer to the Tiger Style’s infamous stealth Stance. If you want, I’ll teach you either or both, though I don’t think you’re suited for the Innocuous Oaf. You’re a star, Annie Shine.”

Her cheeks pinkened. “Thanks. Though, I could say the same about you.”

I waved her off. “Me? Just a pretty face.”

Maki sounded annoyed. “So, it’s explicitly an assassination technique?”

“Would you believe that was an accident?”

It was Annie who spoke up. “But you named one of the forms Blissful Assassin.”

“I was more focused on the Blissful part at the time though. The words work well together; it’s the repeated ‘S’ sound in the middle. Anyway, the Happy Idiot at its simplest is about disguising your intent; I just happened to apply that to killing. That’s what today’s lesson is about, and there are few better ways to train your poker face than, well—” I opened up the old mahogany box, showing off a luxurious array of chips “—poker!”

“Hm, not a bad idea,” said Maki, body sagging with relief at the chance to recover physically, “though I’m surprised we aren’t playing strip poker.”

“We are. Regular strip poker would go too fast, but I figure we can lose an item of clothing for an ante or a blind, or strip completely to buy back in.” I had to include an erotic element somehow for the Feat bonuses, but I was pretty sure both women were about to be too upset with me to be terribly turned on. “Plus, I want to use this poker set; I’ve never had the chance before. My dad claims it belonged to his grandfather who cat-burgled it in Algeria in the 1920s, but I’m ninety percent sure it was stolen from the big annual antique show downtown when I was ten. Check it out, the hundred-franc chips are real ivory, the fifties are ebony, and the ones are African baobab. The whole box is like a crime against Mother Earth.”

“That’s fun – well, not the materials, but you know what I mean” said Annie, kneeling down to join me on the floor. “Never thought I’d train kung fu with poker, but the concept makes sense. I’ll warn you, I was a real shark back in college. Poker’s mostly math.”

Maki slipped off the couch to take her spot. “I haven’t played in a while. The Sunada won’t play with our Clan, and I’ve never been invited to a game twice,” she added with a smirk.

I laughed. I knew this would be a good idea. Beyond just teaching Annie to bluff, I’d wanted some way for her to exercise her intellect not just her cunning. It often went underutilized in our professions, but there was quite a brain inside that skull of hers. “Wonderful, I like that competitive spirit, you two. And I haven’t even told you what the stakes are.”

Both women tensed. “There it is,” said Maki, bracing herself for the news. “What fresh hell have you conceived now?”

Annie scanned her surroundings for traps and surprises. “Oh boy, I should have known. The living room made me forget what was happening. We don’t normally train here.”

I clutched my chest as if wounded. “Jeez, you guys make me feel like a monster sometimes. It’s nothing so serious.” I smiled at Annie, though, while I may have been facing her, my mirth was directed like a knife at my girlfriend. “I’m going to fry up some seitan for half of lunch, but our first game will determine the other half. I figure, if Maki wins I’ll make some shrimp tempura sushi rolls, and if you win, I’ll make some Minnesota sushi.”

“What,” asked Maki sharply, “is Minnesota sushi?”

“Ah, it’s really quite simple. You see, you take a pickle, slather it in cream cheese, and wrap it in salty ham.” My smile grew meaner. By her reaction, I’d have thought I described a war crime.

Annie laughed. “Don’t make that face, Maki. It’s better than it sounds. I promise you’ll enjoy it. Not that it matters, James, but what happens if you win.”

“Not a lot. I already snacked a good amount while you two were outside, so instead of a second dish, if I win, we’ll all be having cans of the Monster Energy Irish Crème Java Monster drinks.” Ha! Why did I need to eat at all? Their looks of horror were enough to feed me for the week. “Consumption will be mandatory,” I added, my canines showing.

“Dear God.” Annie crinkled her nose at the thought. “Do you even like Monster Energy?”

“Nah, Red Bull ‘til I die. And the Irish Crème Java Monsters are among the worst things I’ve ever tasted, but it was too funny to not do once I had the thought. At least you can be comforted by the fact that I’ll be suffering alongside you.”

Maki, who was already barely clinging to her composure seemed genuinely betrayed. “But you made us eat a light breakfast. You said we needed the caloric deficit for the large lunch.”

I would be frying up more than enough mianjin to make up for that, but she didn’t need to know that right now. “Yes, I was lying so you would be extremely hungry coming into this. Clever, right? You’re always saying how you want to see more forethought from me.”

“You’re a monster.”

“Mhm. An Iri—”

“No! Don’t you dare finish that joke. Have some shame, James Li.”

“This is all for your benefit, my dear – well, Annie’s mostly, but I’m sure you’ll get something out of this if you push yourself.”

Annie patted the other woman’s shoulder comfortingly. “There, there, Maki, you get used to it. What I do when training gets really bad, is imagine the future and what it’ll be like after I conquer the task.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Annie, but as someone who doesn’t belong to the degenerate class of maniacs known as martial artists – no offense—”

“None taken.”

“My abilities do not one-to-one correlate with the suffering I endure in training.”

“Oh, no, no, it’s not like that. The strength I gain is only a small part of it. See, what I imagine is I’m outside an inn on a chill, windswept night. We’ve traveled to a remote mountain town to meet with a few fellow warriors about a secret evil. James is inside drinking with some other masters, and while he doesn’t care if I join him, they adhere to a stricter idea of hierarchy, so instead, I stay outside and keep their apprentices company. It’s uphill going for me, though. The other senior students have heard that Black City Kung Fu practitioners are loud and buffoonish, more like circus acrobats than serious martial artists, and are itching for a fight. I deescalate the situation by appearing as an unworthy combatant and manage to coax them into a conversation with a bottle of wine, and though they wouldn’t normally drink, we can hear the sounds of raucous laughter coming from inside. ‘Your masters are fine fraternizing with mine, so why not share a drink with me?’, I say.” She slapped her thigh excitedly. “That’s when my training really comes into play! I start passing the wine bottle around, and use all the unhinged things James has done to me in the name of our art as an ice-breaker. Naturally, they try to one-up me with their own tales, thinking it’s some sort of competition. But over the course of the night, and many drinks, they realize that while Black City doesn’t take itself seriously, it has as deep a respect for fighting and the martial arts as their own styles. By the end of it, we’ve started lifelong friendships!”

“Oho,” I pointed at her, “in a post-apocalyptic future in which we have youxia wandering the countryside, right?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“Heh, that’s funny. I used to do the same thing when I was kid. Helps with all the bullshit, for sure.”

“No way, that’s so cool!”

We high fived.

Annie quirked her head at Maki. “Did that help, hun?”

“In a way, yes.” Maki rubbed her temple with two fingers. “How do you feel about working together? Surely, the energy drink abominations are the worst of the three options.”

The redhead hesitated. “I guess we ought to, but…”

“Sharks need to swim?”

Annie gave her a toothy grin. “Yeah. I want to win.”

Maki hummed her agreement. “Don’t worry, I’m of the same opinion. Certainly, there’s no malice in crushing a friend in a game of cards, or at least,” she said, each syllable smugger than the last, “I hope you won’t find any after the fact.”

“Crushing, huh? Funny.”

The women exchanged challenging stares, Annie confident and smirking, and Maki pointedly unbothered.

“Ha! That’s the spirit! But,” I held up a finger, “conserve your resources on this first game. I have a second in mind, stakes to be announced later.” It was essential to the lesson that they be able to apply their insights, and in poker, those would only be fully realized at the end of the game. “Any clothes used for an ante or a buy-in will stay gone.”

“And what are the rules on cheating?” asked my too-wise girlfriend with a sharp look.

“An instant forfeit, of course. What else?”

“I see. So, you’ll be dropping the Empty-Headed God, then? Obviously, any ability that renders you impossible to be read would be considered cheating in any reasonable setting.”

“I don’t know about that. If I was at a table with other martial masters, it would be an insult for me to not use the Stance.”

“I said a reasonable setting, James. Besides, it’s fundamentally impossible for us to learn anything from your body language right now; you’re a complete black box. That is the point of this lesson, is it not?”

Fair enough, I couldn’t argue with her there. Plus, I had plenty of other ways to cheat. I dropped the Stance. “True, true. It’ll be more fun this way, anyway. I suppose you’ll want to use a fresh deck, too, hm, just in case? Annie, if you check the knickknack drawer in the kitchen, there should be an unopened one inside. I bought it before I realized my friends didn’t want to visit my Harbor Hill apartment.”

“Oh yeah, I always forget this place used to look like a bomb shelter,” said Annie, running her fingers along the Persian pure silk rug she was kneeling on. Almost as soon as the sentence was said, though, the thought seemed to leave her mind.

Maki shot me a curious look as the other woman went to fetch our cards. It said plainly, Does she know we’ll be flagrantly cheating?

That was a good question. After our beachside conversation, Annie’s intuition was better aligned with the unspoken rules of the Martial World, but she could still be fairly naïve, and I suspected she was too blinkered by her excitement to show off her analytic talents to be keyed in. There were two forms of gambling in the Martial World: games played to relax, and games played to be won. In the former, you cheated to tease your friends, and in the latter, you, naturally, cheated in order to win. In both, it was a given that at any table with more than one martial artist, everyone involved would be cheating. In a rare mutually agreed upon moral lesson, Crystal and I had been taught by our parents that you’d only committed a faux pas if you killed someone after getting caught. Pops was of the opinion that undue property damage to the venue was also unacceptable, though Ma vehemently disagreed, stating that calling out a member of the Li-family violated both face norms and common sense, and deserved adequate retribution.

I returned Maki’s look with a noncommittal head bob. There’s two games. She’ll figure it out.

Once Annie returned, I had her open the deck and allowed both women to inspect the cards as they pleased, distributing the chips as they did. The numbering and fancy ₣s, inlaid with gold, enticed in the soft, sensual lighting of my living room. I offered to deal first, rolling a Deception and presenting the offer as a favor to them.

Maki rolled her eyes, insulted by the very thought. “Annie will deal first. You aren’t touching that deck until it’s been fully randomized.”

“Sure. No skin off my back.”

With Annie to my left and Maki my right, I was big blind for the hand, putting up ten francs of my total stack of five hundred. The blinds had been determined by Annie, the only one of us with real experience; apparently, it was customary to allow between fifty and a hundred big blinds to be played. That was news to me. Between my two lives, I could count the number of poker games I’d played on one hand. I was coming into this with every intention of cheating my way to victory.

My lack of experience became apparent on the first hand, which would be the last legitimate one of both these games. I ruminated on every decision, checking and rechecking my cards, scrutinizing the others faces, scratching my head, the lot, everything to ensure my body was in constant motion.

It was all a smokescreen, however my confusion when we revealed our cards was genuine. Maki had folded early leaving me and Annie to duke it out, and I’d sunk fifty francs into the pot. “Wait, three-of-a-kind doesn’t beat a flush? I thought three aces was pretty strong…”

Annie laughed as she slid the chips into her pile. “Good news, babe, Monster Energy is off the menu.”

Maki was less jubilant, blowing out a long breath and giving me a disbelieving look. She’d just now realized to what extent I’d be cheating.  “It’s going to be like that, is it?”

“What can I say? I prefer gambling with my life; cards never did it for me.” And I’d usually been too broke to gamble in general, but mine was a cooler excuse.

It took a few more hands, but I did eventually figure out the basic rules of poker. I could have just asked or looked them up, but I was styling on them. It would make my victory all the sweeter. Everything was going according to plan.

Maki’s eyes were beginning to track the patterns within my seemingly random movements, though, and that required a more proactive defense. For the next ante, I sacrificed my shirt, pulling it over my head with a Presence + Seduction, and followed the roll immediately with the more curious pairing of Endurance + Erotic Sorcery.

“I hope you two enjoyed farming me, because I’m getting serious now that I’ve figured out the rules.”

Maki was momentarily paralyzed at the sight of my sweat-sheened muscles as I stretched performatively but blinked it off relatively quickly even for her. I didn’t have access to her full ‘character sheet’ when I used my teaching Feats, just the parts I bought her, but she must have developed more abilities recently than I’d seen. Her firmly mortal immune system should have been showing more strain than this in the face of the cloud of Qi-rich pheromones pouring from my sweat glands.

She sniffed the air a few times before narrowing her eyes at me. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You expect me to believe that you are sweating right now? The man who routinely lights himself on fire?”

“It’s hot in here.” I shrugged. Cutting her off before she could respond, I added firmly, “I know you weren’t about to speak authoritatively on my wacky-ass biology.” She glowered. “Thinking hard makes me sweat sometimes. Weird, huh?”

“Tch. Annie.”

“Hm?” came a dreamy reply from the redhead. She was seconds away from openly drooling.

“Annie.”

“What? Oh.” She shook off her stupor, crossing her arms as she realized what had happened. “Hey! What the hell, James?”

“I don’t know what you two are talking about. Am I supposed to apologize for being really, ridiculously good looking? How’s that fair to me, and all the other stupidly hot guys in the world for that matter? No one’s ever out there watching our backs, you know. We face challenges, too. This is himbo bigotry in full display!”

Maki ignored me for Annie. “About what I said earlier—”

“Yeah, I’m with you. Let’s make this quick. I fold, James.”

“Same.”

“Bah. You two are no fun,” I said, adding the measly few francs to my pile.

Unsurprisingly, with both women working together, I didn’t last much longer. They had to play with only minimal glances at my literally dazzling form, but both understood poker well enough to coordinate better than I could have expected, though I realistically couldn’t have expected much. Kenny Rogers was right, there was more to the game than high cards and bluffs it turned out. You had to know when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em, and all that jazz. More specifically, you also had to know when, how often, and how much to bet when you were down in chips and playing a two-V-one. I like to think I was picking it up pretty fast considering the circumstances, but once they started to show each other their cards, it was over for me.

It wasn’t the ideal outcome – ten more hands or so and I’d have fully realized my plan – but it was acceptable. As funny as the thought of making Annie and Maki drink Irish Crème Monsters was, the prank did require me to drink as well. The plan had been to finish only half then crush the can in a way that sealed and obscured the rest, but still, half a can was a half more than I wanted. No, it was the second game’s prize I was after.

After I pushed over the rest of my chips to Annie, I offered to be the dealer for the remaining showdown. The women wisely declined out of a general and entirely accurate feeling that I was up to something. It was a shame that I wouldn’t be able to finish marking the cards before the next game, but at least I had a chance to practice reading the marks.

The deck was genuine, your standard set of 52 playing cards that you could find in any corner store in town, unmarked. As we’d played, I’d made it my goal to change that in a way that didn’t tip off my highly intelligent opponents, one of whom was preternaturally observant, and the other, who knew my tricks better than anyone. It was a lofty goal but unlike Maki and Annie, I’d known we would be playing poker for days now, giving me plenty of time to concoct a plan. Should I have spent even a few minutes of that time learning the actual game? Probably. But in my defense, I thought very lowly of most of the poker players I’d met – if those morons could figure it out, then I’d be fine, had been the thought. Plus, it was a strong plan.

My body, and its every individual component, was cursed and blessed to be an extremely potent alchemical reagent. My flesh, my blood, my semen, my saliva, my everything, were prizes for the ambitious sorcerer or alchemist. Imbued as they were with a touch of my titanic wellspring of Qi, they could modestly enhance almost any magical working and significantly enhance those aligned with my Qi-nature. That made them, in the right conditions, extraordinarily combustible.

Mentally, I’d split the back of every into four equal rectangles made up of four smaller quadrants: each of the suits divided into 2 through 5, 6 through 8, 9 through Jack, and Queen through Ace. The constant fidgeting obscured the act of coating a finger in skin or scalp oil before pressing it against the appropriate quadrant. I’d thought of dividing the prints further using a nail mark, but those would have caught the light and thus, surely, Maki’s attention. As things stood, the method was ingeniously subtle. The oil was barely present, a literally microscopic layer, and it was further masked by the girl’s own fingerprints. It was also barely infused with my Qi, really only noticeable to my senses because of my Feat Fire-Proof which recognized it as a valid fuel. My senses and the Feat were pushed to their limits; the oil from a normal human’s skin was only technically flammable, but my Fire-nature pushed it over the threshold. Maki, even with her recent experience channeling my power and heightened perceptive abilities, would fail to perceive the individual prints. Better yet, running my hand through my hair was one of my common tells. I tended to do it when I was worried or anxious, and I’d already established how bad I was at poker. She’d have no way to call me on it, if she even noticed. Annie would be able to spot a trick like this soon, but soon was not now. Once paired with my ability to stack a deck the old-fashioned way, I would have a nigh invincible advantage.

If I could read the marks accurately and in time, that was. It was proving harder than I thought and that was without the added distraction of having to play as well. I nearly let my frustration show when Maki flipped over the flop: 9 of Hearts, 9 of Clubs, and an Ace of Hearts. I didn’t have every card marked yet, but I must have fucked at least one of them up; according to my mark, the 9 of Hearts was both in the wrong suit and supposed to be a Queen, King, or Ace card.

Annie was buzzing. Maybe it was her personality or maybe I knew her too well by now, but even with the 3 Dice in Deception I’d bought her, she remained a poor liar. She tried to play it cool, but it was obvious that she had a heater of a hand. Which was why I was surprised to see Maki call both her raise on the flop and the turn, which was a 10 of Hearts.

The river was revealed to be a Jack of Hearts. Annie raised again.

“All-in,” said Maki without missing a beat. I leaned forward. The exorcist had a placid, even tone at the best of times, but that didn’t mean she had a good poker face. I could hear the slight triumph in her voice. She was up in chips, but only by ten francs. If she lost the hand she’d effectively be out of the game.

Annie smiled wide and pushed her chips into the center. “I call! Now show ‘em and weep! Royal flush,” she said, flipping over a Jack and a 2, neither of which were of Hearts.

Maki said nothing, raising a brow and glancing down pointedly at Annie’s cards and then back up, the corner of her lips curling up into a cruel smirk. She revealed two 9s. “Four-of-a-kind. You lose.”

“Huh?” The redhead frowned and looked down at her cards in confusion. “Wait, what? That’s not—these aren’t—what the fuck?”

“You could strip to buy back in,” said Maki in a bored voice, gathering up the cards as she did. “But I’d save it for the next game. James is much more excited about whatever that prize is than he was for this.”

“But, but…”

I chuckled, plucking the two cards out of my student’s numb grip. I rubbed them between my thumb and forefinger – there was nothing there to my senses, but then I’d expect that to be true. The magic wasn’t Qi-sorcery and, if I was correctly remembering what she’d told me, it should have been more than capable of tricking even minor gods.

“Fox-fire, eh? You’ve gotten much better with it – didn’t see any sparks at all.” The illusory flame, despite its name, had nothing to do with Elemental Fire, and was thus outside Annie and I’s capabilities to combat. Maki had mentioned to me (and demonstrated with lingerie) that she’d learned to use the raw power of my cum in her system to power the ability, circumventing the need to bargain with her Shrine’s foxes. The girls had been burning through the stockpile with their morning shakes, but there was still a jar of the stuff tucked away in the corner of a cupboard.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I shook my head and threw her the two cards. “If I lose to my own semen, I’m counting it as a draw.”

“Wait. But…you, you cheated?” Annie gave the other woman big, watery doe eyes, utterly betrayed. “But, why?”

Maki winced but her face turned cold. “Minnesota. Sushi. Simply unacceptable.” Turning to me, she commanded, “Educate your student, James.”

Annie was crestfallen and hurt, and while I as a man wanted to comfort her, as her master my duty was to correct the flaw here, in the gym, before I sent her out into the world. This was altogether too much earnestness for the Martial World. “Annie, you are the senior student of Black City Kung Fu—”

She groaned and held up a hand, her face instantly going from pained to embarrassed. “Oh God, sorry. Right, right, it was a lesson about being a bastard. Duh.” She sighed and slumped her shoulders, resting her chin in her palms. “Don’t know what I was thinking; I guess I got too excited. At least I have a second game for redemption.”

“Speaking of, what will we be playing for, James?”

I clapped my hands and hopped up to my feet. “So glad you asked! Why, what else but dessert, of course!” From the refrigerator, I fetched a cake box I’d wrapped in a plastic bag and hidden behind the jug of water. A small fortune had been spent on the privilege of having it delivered.

Maki’s eyes went wide as I pulled the bag off the box. As a native to the city, she knew as well as I did that what lay inside was worth its weight in gold. “That can’t be – La Fontaine’s? How? When did you find the time?”

“Oh! La Fontaine, I’ve heard of them! That’s the famous bakery downtown, right? My friends and I tried to go our first time in the city, but they close so early.”

“They sell out so early,” corrected Maki. “Even with the limits on how much a customer can buy, La Fontaine hasn’t failed to sell out of stock within an hour of opening since the blizzard of ‘98. People will usually wait in line outside starting around four or five in the morning on most days. Before Valentine’s and during the Christmas season, they’ll camp out overnight. Which is why I’m confused. How on Earth, James? La Fontaine doesn’t deliver.”

“Everywhere delivers when you take out a Diamond job on Runr the night before.” I opened the small box with a flourish, bending low to show off the single, beautiful slice of opera cake inside like it was a precious jewel. “Behold, our dessert for today, La Fontaine’s famous opera cake, every layer of it perfected by neurotic Frenchmen over generations! Just one slice, ladies, and you’re out of your minds if you think I’m sharing a bite when I win,” I lied. For as cruel as I’d been during the Training Week, I wasn’t a monster. I’d bought two slices; the losers would split the second. But for the purposes of this lesson, I needed them to feel the pressure.

“You know, James,” Maki batted her eyes, “La Fontaine’s has been a romantic staple of Black Harbor for over seventy years.”

“Don’t I know it! I got my first ever handjob from Seema Patel at her birthday party by waiting in line for the mango cake.”

Her face soured. “Lovely.”

“But this is no gift! It’s a prize to be won.” I closed the box and set it in the center of the coffee table. “I’ll warn you two, especially you, Annie, I’ve held back in every other lesson so far this week, but you’ll be getting the full, unadulterated James Li for this one. I didn’t spend two grand before tips on this opera cake to not take a bite.”

Maki nodded and turned to Annie. “I’ll have to do the same. I can’t stomach the thought of James’ smug face savoring every bite in front of us. You just know he’ll be insufferable about it. I’ll be happy to share when I win though.”

“Ha! So confident. I wasn’t even in the game last round. This time will be different.”

The priestess quirked her head and smiled, eyes half-lidded. “Is that right?” she asked, voice smoky.

Annie licked her lips, smile anticipatory as she met the Japanese woman’s gaze. “Uh huh. I’ll even make a side bet.”

How cute! Only two days and they were already flirting so aggressively. This was either the result of my Feat Sister Wives, or they’d cracked from all the erotic and psychological torment I’d put them through.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. If I’m out before you, I’ll do whatever you want for the full drive to Missouri. You want me to do five under the whole way? Done. Want me to skip a greasy roadside dive? Done.”

“Extremely tempting so far. And if you win?”

Annie leaned in, her expression overeager. I recognized that borderline sociopathic intensity; she was about to ask for something social media related. “Act in one of James and I’s martial arts softcore films – not in a sexy way, but there’s only so many movies we can make with only two actors. Even one other person willing to read lines opens up our options by orders of magnitude! Or even a narrator, honestly, that would be super helpful if you don’t want to be on camera.”

I held up a hand. This might have been an instance of Alan’s culture shock bleeding through, but asking someone to be in your amateur porn felt like a lot to put on the line. Granted, it was only in a non-‘starring’ role, but our current stakes were an extremely nice slice of cake. “Woah, hang on. That’s a little content-brained, Annie—”

“One of us has to be,” she said sharply. I made a mental note to finally send her some of the vlogs she’d been asking for. “I don’t see you volunteering to be the producer.”

“True, true,” I said conciliatorily, “that’s fair. It’s just, not everyone’s going to be as comfortable—”

"Just as a regular actor?" said Maki. Her tone was outwardly neutral, but I could hear the undercurrent of pride. The idea of being uncomfortable around pornography was apparently beneath her. "I wouldn't have to strip?"

“No, I just need someone to act as the friend on the other side of the phone, or the laundromat attendant – that sort of thing, you know?”

“I’m hardly an actor. I wasn’t even in the play in elementary school.”

Annie chuckled. “It’s a supporting role in an amateur film. No one would expect anything more before we take the porn into account. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

"Hmm…I can't accept that bet." The Japanese woman's back was straight, her face a perfect mask of control. Her eyes were on me, stern but loving, quietly affectionate. I blushed and scratched my nose shyly. She looked very noble in that moment, I thought. "I would have done that anyway. I'll always support my partner's endeavors. Now, starring in softcore pornography that was meant to be shared with strangers would be the sort of thing I would ordinarily need a great deal of convincing to do."

“Of course! I would never—”

“So I think that would be a better bet.”

Annie choked on her words. “What, really!? Like, um, nudity and all?”

“Yes, full nudity would be a more honest bet. However, the lighting will be set to flatter my skin tone; James looks good under any lights, and I think any lighting that brings out my pale skin will also accentuate your eyes. Also, there are some kanzashi I’ve never been able to work into an outfit – I want at least one of the scenes to justify using them in the costume.”

“Oh, okay. Uh, sure, done and done.” Some pink rose to Annie’s freckled cheeks as the full implications hit her. “Wait, um, you want me in the scene, too?”

Maki wore a smug, half-smile. “Yes.” The word came out more like a command than an answer.

Annie laughed nervously, now fully blushing. “Great. That’ll be, um, super.”

“Excellent. I look forward to vetoing any of James’ attempts to stop at Arby’s.”

 “Hey, Arby’s lowkey slaps. Everyone talks shit ‘til the curly fries hit.” I crossed my arms. “Now I’m craving curly fries and chicken strips. You better win this, Shine.”

The girls shook hands. Annie excused herself to go to the restroom, cheeks still rosy. As soon as the door closed, I felt the air tremor. A brief Aura + Perception confirmed that Annie was cycling energy through her Dantian – experimenting.

After a suspiciously long bathroom break from Annie, we got started. Now that none of us could plausibly be trusted any more or less than the others, we decided to draw cards to see who would draw first.

Annie frowned and made a sound when I drew an Ace to deal.

“Noticed quite a few bursts of Qi coming from the bathroom earlier,” I remarked in response.

“Hmm, what’s that?”

It was an auspicious start: of the eight cards I dealt for the first hands, only one was unmarked—

Eight cards? That can’t be right. The thought was a cold cup of water to the face, the world’s edges sharpening into focus.

“Two for me,” I said slowly, visually verifying I’d dealt correctly. “Two for Annie. Two for Maki. Two for the rat.” I paused. “Two for the rat?”

The undulant menace nodded a hello at me, the gesture sending a wave rippling through his soft body. I almost didn’t recognize him. His fur was no longer matted black with filth, but instead pet-store clean, showing off the gray around his muzzle, and his eyes projected apprehension and social anxiety. He was giving lonely uncle, if I had to describe the change.

“Oi!” I leapt to my feet, arms out and ready to spring into motion. As if this little act of his would work on me!

“You!” shouted Annie with a shocking amount of killing intent. She was shaking with contained fury. My heart beamed with pride in her, so ready to accept our school’s enemies as her own. “You bastard! You have some nerve showing up here!”

“This is the Ascended rat you’ve been fighting with?” Maki was nonplussed. “I must say, not quite as menacing as you’d described, James.”

"Don't be fooled! This little shit is a master of ninjutsu. He's a real bastard, an itinerant thief, and a relentless asshole."

The rat gave me a quizzical look. He didn’t deny the accusation, but it was as if he was saying, “Yes, but surely, you of all people have no room to talk.”

“It’s different when I do it! And I’ve never stolen food; that’s just lowdown dirty.”

Maki cleared her throat. “That claim only holds by the most technical, loose definitions of truth. I shudder to think what our bill would have been at Tamaki Grill.”

“So what? My moral compass rests on the razor edge of technicalities! That’s what it means to be a youxia. As long as I do it to rotten dogs like the Yakuza or the Cranes, it’s in the clear.”

She opened and closed her mouth, shaking her head in amazement. “Leaving your…remarkable philosophy alone. You aren’t even a little intrigued by this mystery, an Immortal rat living in Black Harbor? One of your only seven students is an animal. You don’t want to know how a rat mastered a secret Japanese assassination art?”

Annie made a fist and slapped her bicep. "Questions can wait for when we meet in hell!" All three of us turned to look at her, various degrees of stunned. She glanced nervously around the room. "Too much?"

"No!" I gave her a thumbs-up. "Just right! Only hell awaits the enemies of Black City Kung Fu – you hear that, you little monster?"

He gave me an affronted squeak and gestured to his immediate surroundings and himself with his stubby arms, like he was saying, “That’s a little unreasonable. I haven’t stolen anything today.” His nose twitched at the box holding the opera cake. “I’m here trying to win the cake earnestly.”

“Hmm…” I hummed and scratched my chin. For as much as I hated the vermin, it was still hard to be violently upset with someone who was just sitting there unbothered. But then, I’d employed that same strategy in the past. And that argument was essentially one I’d make verbatim in the same position. “First of all, it’s not a little unreasonable; it’s hella unreasonable – I don’t do anything in inches, buddy. Secondly, even if I was to give it to you about today, you can’t deny our history carries a ton of weight here. You’re sitting at my table like you haven’t pissed inside my refrigerator. On multiple occasions.”

The rat waved his tiny paws in a circle and jiggled in place. Obviously, he was willing to discuss this further.

“Tch. I’m not sure I buy this.”

His whiskers twitched gently. He was happy to make some concessions.

“Alright, then. I’ll invite you to this game under the condition that you don’t steal from me for the next year—” There was an immediate offended squeak. “A year? A year is too much? To ask you not to steal!? Both of our lifespans are measured in centuries!"

He paused to think about it. For one master thief to ask another to go a year without pilfering him was in poor taste, didn’t I think?

I pointed at him and narrowed my eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” I lied.

Annie and Maki had been getting visibly more confused and finally had to break in. The redhead made a timeout gesture. “Wait, sorry, real quick—”

“James, do you speak rat?” finished Maki.

The rat and I shared a look. They didn’t understand him? That was odd; it was all pretty clear to me.

“Our mutual enmity is so great that it extends beyond simple language,” I declared, off of nothing in particular, really.

He let out a skeptical chitter. “Do you think so?” said his posture. “I thought for certain it was your impeccable ability to read Qi movements through body language. I’ve been modulating my Qi to better communicate.”

He was? I stared at him, scrutinizing every micromovement for almost ten very awkward seconds.

Holy shit, he was. But how? I couldn’t even see his muscles under the thick layer of fat. The creature could communicate ideas and words like “impeccable” and “modulating” through the scant few movements I could see? That level of Qi control was outrageous – it was previously inconceivable to me before this moment. It was, it was…

Infuriating. He could do that, and he’d been routinely stealing the equivalent of my lunch money for months? What an insanely petty dick.

“Shut up, idiot. It’s whatever I say it is, and I say it’s because we hate each other.”

“I don’t hate you at all.”

“Fuck you.”

The creature slumped into a sigh. “Even for Man, you are profoundly unreasonable.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m as reasonable as a hurricane; get used to it, asshole.”

His damp nose twitched in disapproval. “Self-knowledge does not excuse a man’s flaws in the eyes of his peers,” said his quivering whiskers. “Willful ignorance is ignorance all the same.”

I made a jerk off motion. “A sanctimonious thief, how glib. Here, how’s this, you can play but under the agreement that you don’t steal from me for a month—” I coughed. “A week! I should decapitate you for the suggestion, you rat. You’ve been robbing me since I moved in! Long before I could do anything about it, I should note.”

“You rose to the challenge,” came the extremely sheepish shrug. He couldn’t even do me the courtesy and project false guilt. “I found you intriguing.”

“A month – I won’t be moved on that. A month, and if you lose, two months. That’s an exceptionally reasonable offer from an exceptionally unreasonable man. I suggest you take it.” He bobbed his head in quick agreement. I sat back down with a huff and gestured to Maki to fetch him his chips.

She taunted me with her flawless hospitality, wearing a mischievous smile as she said in Japanese, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Nezumi-sensei. My lover has told me much about you. Don’t be misled by his complaints; I suspect he greatly enjoys your rivalry.”

He squeaked excitedly at me, flattered by the kindness. “Such a lovely wife you have, a very noble disposition! She reminds me greatly of my old mistress.”

I scowled at him. “No one cares about your stupid fucking backstory.”

Maki raised a brow and gave me a face – I could practically hear the exacerbated “James” in it. I shrugged at her. What did she expect? In an embarrassing twist of fate, the rotund rat to my right was my number one rival. Maki couldn’t begin to understand what that meant for martial artists – anything less than absolute antipathy would have been a provocation, and I really didn’t want to find him raiding my refrigerator with any more frequency than I already did.

But beyond principles and tradition, I owed the demon a wealth of vengeance. He’d shown up three days after I moved in for his first pilfering and come every few weeks since, always making sure to stick around long enough to be seen in the act. My pockets might have been flush since Love Fight started, but I’d felt that loss when I was a mere gig worker. In less than a year, he’d probably ruined close to a thousand dollars in groceries – and with such deliberate antagonism! I didn’t care that he’d probably lived here before me. The jerk had made sport of me in my own home. Me! James Li! I’d kill him!

Maki cleared her throat. I wrangled my fighting spirit back in before I accidentally lit the cards on fire and dropped 105 Experience on 6 Dice in Legerdemain. When I only had the women to contend with, I’d been content to rely on Finesse and whatever situational bonuses I could set up with Deception. If you couldn’t sense the marks on the back of the cards, my stacking the deck in the shuffle could only really be revealed through raw pattern analysis. Annie, to my left, had a bad angle to catch anything, and Maki’s eyes couldn’t keep up with my hands. But the rat – I wouldn’t put anything past the devil.

Centuries of sleight-of-hand and conjuring tricks slammed into my brain with only slight discomfort, feeling like a natural extension of my existing skills. My simmering fury abated completely, replaced by a giddiness that the others clearly found off-putting. The newfound dexterity and knowledge had incited a firestorm of ideas, a dozen ways to apply the Skill to combat and thievery elbowing each other for attention in my mind. I disguised some of the glee with another glower at my hated rival. I should have invested in the Skill before the Training Week – with some work, Legerdemain could finally give Black City its own version of an iron hand technique.

“Can we start?” asked Annie tentatively. Getting no disagreement, she gave the rat a withering glare. “Well, Mr. Squishy, get to it.”

"Mr. Squishy?" I said, sounding out the name. I couldn't say I was a fan, a little too cute for my taste, but for whatever reason, the moniker made the rat wince with genuine guilt, and that was alright at least. "Hm, not bad. But I don't make a habit of naming every random rat I see."

His tail twitched at that, a splinter of fighting spirit piercing through the friendly façade.

Maki shook her head and sighed. “A hater is born every minute in New Jersey, Annie. You’d do well to remember that. I think I’ll stick with Nezumi-sensei.” She started to explain, “That’s rat in—”

“In Japanese, I know, or mouse,” finished Annie, eyes still locked onto the rat. “Nezumi is Hammo’s childhood friend.”

Maki was once more disturbed by the usually cheery woman’s open, violent hatred, looking to me for an explanation. I just grinned, perplexed but too amused to inquire at the moment. “Er, Hammo, from the…popular children’s anime?”

Annie slammed her fist down on the coffee table. “It’s a slice-of-life classic!”

“Okay…”

“Are you going to go or not, villain!” shouted the redhead.

The rat pushed his cards forward, eyeing the room for exits as if regretting his decision not to simply steal the slice. I laughed and did the same. The deck had been stacked with three players in mind.

I’d deduced Annie’s ‘strategy,’ if it could be called that, early into her extended bathroom break from what I’d felt coming down the hallway. My ability to sense Qi at a distance was still untrained and undeveloped, but I’d been so tuned into Annie’s in particular these past days that it had become second nature. We’d dual cultivated at such a high level often enough that there were fleeting moments where her Qi-network felt like an extension of mine.

To throw her a bone, I pooled my Qi in my lungs and got ready to lend a hand. It was the least I could do as her mentor. Plus, it wouldn’t do to have my student embarrass herself while there was a visiting master present.

“Hmm…should I call?”

She bit her lip in faux thought, checked her cards again as a show, and closed her eyes. Scrunching up her face, her skin from toes to scalp rapidly started to flush, body temperature rising as it did. I whistled as if bored, rolling my own Elemental Control to do what I could to make Annie’s play the tad bit subtler it needed to be. Unmodified, this improvised maneuver she was making a stab at would immediately get her called out for cheating.

By the time she opened her eyes, her face was nearly as red as her hair, she looked more than a little nauseous, and she was so hot it was a wonder she wasn’t burning through the silk carpet and the furniture. Thankfully, my control was great enough to disperse the initial intense blast of heat to the rest of the room, wrapping a semi-permeable barrier around the rest of us with my expelled breath. The temperature would still rise rapidly for us, but it would feel closer to a broken thermostat rather than what Annie had done, which could only be plainly interpreted as an attack.

Maki squinted at her. “What did you just do?”

Annie looked at her and then the room, confused by her reaction.

I cut in with a small reassuring smile. “Made herself sick, it seems.” She nodded at that and gave me a grateful look, instantly understanding my message. Maki followed it all, of course, but had no recourse. She turned to the rat for help, but he himself was deep in contemplation, preparing his own Qi sorcery.

“Uh, nothing! I call.”

The rest of the hand was relatively unexciting, though I did note that Maki was being much more liberal with her Fox-fire this game. I could tell via my marks that she’d cast another illusion; I assume to take advantage of the fact that the two players who could feasibly call her on it were out of the pot. It didn’t come up, though; Annie folded at the river.

By the time it was the rat’s turn to deal three hands later – something he did expertly despite his lack of thumbs – the issue of Annie’s ploy came to a quick head. I’d done what I could to subtly ease the transition, but the woman had bizarrely Fire-rich Qi and zero control. It was close to a hundred degrees at the table, and Maki was beginning to sweat profusely, both women now breathing hard.

“Wait,” said the priestess as we went to check our cards, “this is ridiculous.” She touched a finger to Annie’s arm before quickly snatching it away. “You’ve turned yourself into a furnace! How in the world could this possibly be allowed? I was already close to passing out from fatigue.”

“Huh? Oh gosh, I didn’t even notice,” fibbed Annie badly. “I guess when I think super duper hard, my body temperature goes up, maybe.”

"Makes sense to me," I said, grinning. "What was that you said? She can't control her burning Qi until I teach her how to control burning Qi?"

Maki grit her teeth. “Are you—ugh.” She turned to the rat for help again, “Nezumi-sensei, surely you can recognize what’s happening here.”

The rat played coy and shuffled his back feet in place. He was just happy to potentially eliminate two of his opponents. Like me, the ninjutsu master had recognized that whatever Annie was doing was throwing her body and Qi-network into total disarray. There was no point in getting her disqualified for cheating when she’d soon be suffering from a severe self-induced flu.

“Gee, Maki, I don’t know what to do.” Annie bit her lip and made herself look small and vulnerable, rubbing her left arm with her right in a way that just happened to push her breasts together. Her eyes were wide and watering. “I guess I can forfeit if you want me to…”

Maki blushed and turned her head away from the scene. “Hrk. It’s – it’s fine! Let’s just play.”

“Yay! Goodie!”

Maki glared at me, assigning me full blame for creating the ginger monster. I shook my head and smiled. She had come to me this way, I was afraid. Those puppy-dog eyes were an Annie Shine original.

I couldn't tell if the rat actually knew how to play poker as the hands progressed, and not in the way I didn't know how to play poker, but in the 'Why are there clovers in the corner of this one?' type of way. He was folding on every hand, burning his ante to continue gathering energy, and seemed broadly confused. His body language gave the impression that, rather than studying our reactions for tells, he was trying to absorb as much of the rules as he could. Frankly, I was beginning to doubt he could read.

Seeing that the unknown variable, our shinobi guest, was biding his time, Maki grew bolder. Annie was in such rough enough shape and getting rougher that, despite the temperature, it was a coin flip who would have to forfeit first for medical reasons, but the Ishida heiress was too proud. She was playing to win, no matter how unlikely that was, and that required her to play hard and fast.

Still, it was too dangerous to attempt anything when I was the dealer, but the instant the turn was passed to Annie, she struck. An illusion had been placed over my cards, something I only noticed because they didn’t align with my marks. The system forced a Deception roll alongside the realization, my new Challenge giving me a taste of how annoying it was going to become. I felt intuitively, as a decent actor, that I’d done a good job, but I was up against Maki here.

Without knowing how many Successes I'd rolled, I decided I had to play bold myself and trust in my own abilities. Assuming, then, that Maki believed she'd got me, how would she do this? There was a flowchart of possibilities in her head, I was sure. She wouldn't try for a single decisive blow like last game; it was too early for that, but she was still playing aggressively.

I bit hard on the bait for this hand, matching her raises and acting distracted by literally distracting myself. Casting my attention down the hallway and into the utility closet, I focused on the nut that controlled the steam heater. Turning my big toe in a circle, I telekinetically opened it to full blast. There was a loud whistle and hiss as the stems in the room began spitting hot, wet air through their pressure release valves, and I was again forced to roll a Deception.

Maki was clearly suspicious, and no matter what I rolled, I was the obvious suspect, but there was little she could do about it. She’d taken the lead with the last hand, but the clock was well and truly ticking now. Annie had used every second she wasn’t actively making moves in the game to turn her attention inward, pumping up her body heat higher and higher. We’d be past sauna territory soon and into the temperature range where only bizarre fire-people like her or monsters like the rat and I could exist.

I made my prediction. On the next hand, I rolled a Charisma + Legerdemain to make my little twitches and movements give the appearance that I was up to something before losing at the turn, folding with fifty-five francs in the pot. The rat wasn’t the only king of body language present at the table. As I lost, I made an Acting roll, flashing on my face for a half-second a mix of pride and frustration, as though I was charmed as her boyfriend to do battle with her in this way.

I folded early on the next hand, pushing my cards towards the rat only seconds after he'd tossed them to me with his tail. My stack of chips was the lightest at the table after the last two hands, and it made sense in the narrative I was presenting Maki for me to take a little time to regroup and replan my attacks. If I lost again, I was worried it would become obvious that I was setting her up.

“You’re looking pale,” I said, standing up. “Let me get you something to drink.”

Maki squinted at me. Her voice was cracked and dry. “I’d rather you stay where I can see you.”

Annie coughed, playing up her weakness a little, but only a little. “Get me one too, please.”

I shot her a grateful look. There was a vanishingly small chance she knew what I was up to, but Annie was a bro. She was likely just returning my earlier favor. I brought them both a cocktail of cold water, punch-flavored electrolyte powder, and a tablespoon of my stupid magic cum from the jar for good measure.

“If you two could see yourselves right now, you wouldn’t be surprised,” I said at their shocked looks. “This is still a training exercise; I’d prefer if you didn’t kill yourselves.”

The recovery drinks had secondary and tertiary benefits for me as well: they implied I was in for a longer game, and they allowed Annie to up her body heat further. Those worked together to give her the confidence to engage with me the next hand on my deal. Of course, the deck was stacked in my favor. By giving her and the flop two Hearts a piece, I managed to bait her into losing enough to put me just slightly over her in chips.

“Agh, damn it,” spat Annie. To Maki, she added, “We ought to be making someone else shuffle for him.” The Japanese woman responded with an accusatory stare back, too weak to do much more. Annie rubbed the back of her head, chagrinned. “Oh, yeah, no one trustworthy enough to do so, eh?”

“You,” panted Maki, “won’t beat me so easily.”

The redhead tried to chuckle but burst out into a fit of coughs, these all too real. “Ow, shit. Easy’s not the word I’d use. But I am going to beat you.”

“The spirit of youth,” commented the rat via nostalgic chitter. “It’s inspiring, isn’t it? Had I stayed as connected as you have, who’s to say what may have become.”

I harumphed and rested my chin on my palm. How old did the little bastard think I was, exactly?

“Older than your flesh, certainly,” he intimated with a paw.

The mild comment rang louder than the Battle Bell, emptying any thoughts regarding the poker game. Even Ma hadn’t had the insight to recognize I’d literally gained years of life experience when Alan’s psyche had joined James in this body, and I was her only son. Small. Just for a second, I felt small, smaller than the rat to my right. Just for a second, the beast swallowed the room in its shadow, looming like an immense silhouette passing beneath you at sea. I stopped myself from shuddering.

James’s grudge, born of dozens of ruined meals, was put to the side as I inspected the creature with Alan’s eyes. Wisdom, the ability to use Divine Qi, and a decided air of regret and loneliness – was this the Sage of Harbor Hill, then, a washed-up old rat? It fit the setting. I also hid behind a veneer of incompetence, and the two of us were humiliatingly similar in both our styles and approaches to life. The beast had probably been using my abandoned apartment as the rodent equivalent of a secluded mountaintop before I moved in. Getting his kicks by bullying a junior martial artist that reminded him of himself, it was – damn it – it was something I’d do, too. Maybe my total, blind combativeness was the wrong approach…

Nah, fuck him. Fat fuck. I refused to let a goddamn, obese, literal rat hold up a black mirror to my face. This was my apartment now. I lived here. Me. A human person. Not once had this asshole helped out with rent.

“You know,” I said off-handedly, “I’ve had to eat a lot of instant ramen breakfasts because of you. Lot of salt to start a day.”

He squeaked excitedly. “Instant ramen is delicious!”

“God, how I hate you.”

Annie was up to deal, and it was time for me to go for the throat, especially since the rat was still busy gathering his energy. The drink had revitalized both women to a degree, but more than that, it was giving them fuel for their abilities. Hot, oppressive drafts wobbled the air around us as Annie hit the gas, her only option now that Maki had a full tank for her Fox-fire. Everything was in place.

My initial hand was strong if I ignored the marks on the back telling me otherwise. Maki was going for broke as I assumed she would. She needed Annie out of the game just to stay conscious at this point; electrolytes and magic jizz could only do so much. Sweat had soaked through her clothes, and she’d grown so tired of wiping it out of her eyes that she’d stopped bothering, conserving what energy she could. There was no time to Petition me for healing, nor would her pride allow it, I didn’t think. Another surge of my power when her body was already so abused would mean another night spent recovering as well. In other circumstances, I might have expected some unforeseen act of guile and cunning from her, but she was barely upright.

It had been a safe bet assuming we'd end up in this position; now came the tricky part. In order for Maki's illusions to work, she had to enchant all thirteen cards that were dealt, otherwise a single duplicate could doom her. With so many moving parts, there were plenty of ways to break her strategy, but I wanted more than just her out of the game; I wanted to win big. Plus, it felt like bad form to eliminate my girlfriend first.

Two loud knocks at the door distracted the table. The girls jumped a little at the sound, while the rat twitched his head up at me in curiosity, wordlessly asking why I’d used telekinesis. My left hand blurred toward the deck by Annie’s side with a Legerdemain. My right waved off their concerns.

"Forget it, probably Jehovah's Witnesses. Anyone important would shoot me a text first."

If anyone had caught what I’d done, they didn’t call me on it. Maki and the rat had both folded early, the latter to keep summoning his strength, working on what had to be a magnificently complicated work of Qi sorcery, and the former because it was the only way to get Annie out of the game. There was no way the redhead would commit to going all-in after our last game with Maki still in the pot.

Come the flop, my student caught me off guard and went all-in early.

“Bold,” I said. “Are you sure?”

"I know you're up to something, James." She smirked through a grimace of pain, her own poorly executed Qi technique ravaging her body. I had to figure the only reason she hadn't used her Circular Breathing was from fear that she wouldn't be able to replicate it again. "This was the best way I could think of to disrupt you. Whatever's happening is gonna have to happen on my terms now. I can always strip to buy back in anyway."

I was proud of her; she’d fucked me here, that was for certain. My first Legerdemain had stacked the flop, river, and turn to make sure I’d have a flush. Well and good, you’d think, except that Annie, underneath Maki’s illusion, had just happened to also have been dealt hearts and a potential full house. That first Legerdemain had been as safe as I could manage to set up my flush. I had intended for and needed a second.

"Clever—" More knocks on the front door, a convenient coincidence. I grumbled, Acting annoyed and started to stand up. "Goddamn it. This had better be important."

“Oh no you don’t, mister!” Annie sprang to her feet, making sure to scoop up her cards as she did. “I’ll go get it. You stay exactly where you are.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You look like you’re at a wet t-shirt contest. What if it’s a kid?”

She hesitated and looked down at herself, which was all that I needed to slip past as though it was the end of the discussion.

I opened the door, looked in the package pot, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that more alms had been delivered in the hour or so since I last checked. Mentally giving my thanks to the local Buddhist community, I grabbed the small plastic bags of sticky rice and dried fruits and shouted a greeting in Burmese at an imaginary visitor in the distance.

“That’s nice,” I said, making my way back. This worked out better than I expected – now I had a bribe to handle the unknown variable in my plan. “Some kids dropping off gifts.”

Maki sounded suspicious. “Loud knocks for children…”

“Eh, you know how kids are, no sense of propriety.” I tossed a bag of rice and a bag of dried fruit to each of the others, the rat included. “Eat up. This will be one of the few times you’ll ever snack in the middle of one of my lessons.”

The women gave me stink-eyes, but were too weak and hungry to not at least pop a few of the dried mango slices into their mouths, Annie’s death grip on her cards weakening as she did.

My rival, alternatively, acted guileless. He quivered with excitement, but paused before tearing into the bags. “You’d share your alms with me?”

The hair on the back of my neck rose. He’d made it sound like a bigger deal than I intended. “Don’t read into it too much. Just basic hospitality.”

His eyes boggled, but he was too distracted to communicate higher-level thoughts with his Qi. Doing a little spin in place, the rat stuck his head straight through the plastic bag and into the rice – perfect.

“I’ll call,” I said, flipping up my cards, showing a king and ace. I had a straight off the flop.

Annie did the same – a five and a jack. “Aw, what the fuck. Not again.” She turned to Maki and crossed her arms. “Really? You gave James a stronger position?” Shaking her head, she dealt the remaining cards. “Huh? Wait. I would have had a full house…”

I chuckled, meeting Maki’s somewhat alarmed eyes. I was far too smug for her liking, much more than I would be if I’d only won a large hand. “That’s funny. I thought you’d prefer to be rid of Annie’s heat.”

Maki pursed her lips, continuing to stare at me warily. Those were obviously not the cards she’d enchanted, but the only way to call that out would be to admit she was cheating. I nodded with sudden understanding.

“Ah, I see. Sometimes I forget how much credit you give me. You already knew Annie’s strategy, but give me a larger pot and I could do anything, right?” Her clenched jaw confirmed my theory. “And the sooner I’m out, the sooner you can guilt me into healing you. That’s clever; I would have done it, too.”

“Sorry,” said Annie, looking between us, “so, what’s happening? You both cheated? You can just tell me; I’m stripping to buy back in, anyway.”

“You might not need to. We’ve yet to see what the cards actually are. Right, Maki?”

Gorgon’s Lust shot a spike of Erotic Sorcery to accompany the question, exiting my eyes and piercing hers before igniting the recently swallowed semen like a grenade. She clapped a hand over her mouth as an involuntary whine escaped her lips, clamped her thighs together, stiffened like a board, and fell over onto her side. The images on the cards vanished in a shower of sparks as she lost control over her magic.

“Oh, would you look at that, a flush. Guess I won anyway.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “You’re a real dick sometimes, Shifu.” Ending her technique, she took in a refreshing Breath, regaining some of the color on her cheeks. “She lost, then?”

"Getting caught's a DQ. One sec." I reached over the table and placed a hand on the twitching, dehydrated form of my poor girlfriend. She deserved better than me, honestly. Using the ample lust energy around and in her, I channeled two Blessings into her, giving her a heightened Recovery Check and some protection against heat.

“Bastard,” she spat, coming to her senses in a rage. “I should kill you, James Li.”

“I know. You learn anything, at least? Bet you’re better with illusions, huh?” She said nothing. “Sounds like a yes to me.”

“Bastard.”

“Uh, Maki?” asked Annie tentatively, her earlier bravado gone. I could hear the slight regret as she was confronted with the fact that she’d won Maki’s participation in softcore erotica. For as content-brained as she was, that was far outside her comfort zone.

Maki sat up, brushing nothing in particular off of herself and straightening her back. "It's fine, my dear, I'm not upset. With you," she added pointedly. "You win. Well played. We can work on your subtlety, but you did well with what was available to you."

“You really don’t have to, I mean—”

“I want to, Annie. Stakes are what make life interesting.”

“Heh. You sound like James.” The redhead smiled weakly before letting out a long breath. “Well, I’ll tap out here and just deal, I think. Martial World poker is too stressful for me. That was fun, though, Shifu, and useful. I’m already replaying things in my head. There was no one at the door, was there?” I smiled wryly. “Ha! You dick.”

“That leaves me and you, rat. Time to get you out of my goddamn living room.”

He pulled his head out of the bag of dried mango slices, having finished off the rice save for the grains stuck in his whiskers. “Hm? Are we starting now? You’re finished with your instruction?”

“Wrong. I’m about to school your ass. Just remember, no stealing from me for two months after I win.”

“I remember.” He pushed his pile of chips into the center. “I’m ready to bet.”

I tongued the tip of my canine, instantly simmering once more. He was that confident in his ability to cheat me, was he? “The cards need to be dealt first,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Is that so? My apologies, I wasn’t paying close attention. May I ask: why do some of the cards have only symbols and others have pictures?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. This must have been how Maki felt earlier, except the rat wasn't even going to pretend to play poker.

“And are the shades of blue more auspicious than the black?”

“What?” Could rats not see red? “Oh my God. You’re a rat,” I muttered. “You’re a literal rat. My rival is a literal rat. I’m going to kill myself.”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter. I never learned to read.”

“Jesus Christ. I’m losing my fucking mind! Deal the cards, Annie.”

There was no need for sleight-of-hand on the first deal; I either had a three-of-a-kind or a strong pair of Kings while he had nothing. Not that we were really playing poker anymore, but I didn’t want to throw the game away on the off chance his plan failed.

“This is exciting,” twitched his tail. “You’ve become strong,” tapped his tiny paw.

He was all-in before the flop. I thought for a long moment about if there was a way to cut him off before letting him make his move. Without knowing what he was up to, it was basically impossible to plan around in a way that wouldn't disqualify me first. He'd used a Divine mind technique the last time we met, nearly trapping me in an illusory world. I'd barely resisted, and had only been able to try because the Willpower Special Feat Impossible Determination let me go a little mad to make the attempt. Crazy to think that had been over him stealing Smoothie’s cat food. This guy really had zero sense of proportionality – like hammering a nail with a tungsten rod dropped from orbit.

Smoothie!

I almost slapped myself. I'd forgotten that I had a psychotic little guy of my own. He was still asleep, barely fifteen feet away.

I couldn’t see him, but I knew he couldn’t have moved. The room temperature and his exhaustion had sent the tabby into a realm of sleep seldom visited by cats. It took a few tugs on his collar to wake him, but I was soon rewarded with an irritated, throaty sound.

I prepared an Animal Handling to shape my silhouette in a way that informed him of the threat and what I wanted from him, but it was fully unnecessary. Within seconds of his complaint, the kitten rocketed out of my peripheral vision and at the rat, driven by smell alone, presumably.

He was faster, quieter, and more delicate in his movements than any kitten had a right to be, not even disturbing the chips on the table with his lunge. The attack was utterly useless, of course. Regardless of his 2 Dice in Martial Arts, my boy was still a baby. The rat’s wiry tail moved with an eerie grace and misdirected his momentum, flinging him harmlessly across the room.

Smoothie rolled to a stop, hissed, and repeated his charge, far clumsier this time, frustration clouding his skill.

“Sorry,” I said, giving the rat a look of chagrin. “He’s just a kitten. We might as well keep going if you don’t mind. He’ll keep attacking until you leave. You and I might be scoundrels, but Smoothie is a true samurai.”

I received an acquiescent silence, less clear than his usual communication. Oho! The kitten’s effort may not have been futile. It seemed the shinobi couldn’t focus his Qi to ‘talk’, defend himself, and prepare his next technique at the same time.

Well done, my son! I thought toward the cat. Win or lose, there would be endless smooches for the boy after this, whether they were wanted or not.

I called his bet, pushing forth all but sixty francs' worth of chips, and flipped my cards up.

“Go ahead—”

(     )Were there shadows of us left behind on Alan’s Earth, going through the motions of our lives? Time wouldn’t be frozen. They lacked the courtesy, these monsters. We weren’t people to them, just toys.

Our hollow lives. Did they mourn us, our families? Not mine, no – they wouldn't notice for a few more weeks, not unless the police reached out to them. No bodies though…No bodies, no case. Ted's mother would be distraught. Poor woman. God, that was a thought, everything I knew about her – I hope his sister had been there with her when she heard. If she heard. Ted's mom could be a bit histrionic and self-destructive, to say the least. To say the least. Awful hag…At least Nasim’s parents weren’t likely to overdose on Xanax and white wine. They didn’t keep alcohol in the house, for one.

Would my mother mourn me? Did I care? I think I did, maybe…I think—

Grumbling, I pushed the hefty pot at the rat. What a fucking fool I’d been – I couldn’t believe I’d been so easily baited. I should have stacked the deck beforehand. He hadn’t even needed to cheat. I definitely should have at least read my marks…

My head hurt suddenly, right behind the eyes. A Circular Breathing charge did nothing to alleviate the pain. Strange. Physical pains were all too common as James, but a stress headache was unusual. It kind of felt like the acute pang that immediately followed Willpower Damage, but way harsher than what I’d experienced before, maybe 3 or 4 points of Temporary Damage – or, God forbid, even a couple of Permanent points.

I frowned, freezing in place. All of the marks were obvious to me – it had become second nature once I'd gotten the hang of it. I must have crushed that first Perception. Why wouldn't I have at least read the marks? I had plenty of ways to distract the creature to give me room for the Legerdemain. And hell, I'd spent over a hundred Experience on the Skill, why hadn't I used it for that sake alone?

My rival was panting, his skin puddling around him. His snout was pure white – Jesus, was I really beefing with an old man? He looked concerned, confused, and surprisingly afraid, considering he was a guest in my home today. Hospitality kept me from outright attacking him; he should have known that much.

The rat’s fear transformed into excitement tinged with fighting spirit. He didn’t mean to communicate it, but it was plain as day: a recognition of my strength. Another pang, right behind the eyes, a deep wave of nausea.

I slammed my hand down on the coffee table. “Oh, you fuck! What is this? What did you do?" I looked around the room wildly and then at Maki. "Is this real? Is this happening?"

“I,” she blinked, seemingly baffled, “I believe so. Are you…alright?”

“No! Look at him! He’s half the size and twice the age he was seconds ago.”

The accusation rang hollow in my head after I said it. What was I talking about? Hadn't he arrived at the table looking like he did now? I'd even made a few cutting remarks that I remember thinking were funny, but maybe a little too harsh. 'Your fat ass catch cancer or something?' I'd said. 'Awesome. Keep me updated on the slow, horrible death.' Maki had been horrified.

“The fucker’s done something.” I pointed at the menace, slightly losing control of my killing intent as I did. “Beating me in a dream won’t count, you shit!”

A dream? But I could remember every second since he’d arrived…

Who cares! Fuck this guy!

That was right! Through hatred, I could ignore all things! Nothing had to make sense or be reasonable when you hated someone hard enough.

“He’s…identical, no? Annie?”

My student was rubbing her temple, her earlier queasiness returning, greying her face. “I…maybe? I think so.”

The rat brushed his whiskers with a paw, graceful and controlled, as though calligraphing a poem. “Your Eyes can see the shape of the Mountain, but its peak is beyond you, lost behind the clouds.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Jeez. Sorry.”

“What? Oh, no, not you. The rat’s doing poetry at me.” I buried my head in my hands and tried to clear my head. The memories felt so real, and yet I couldn’t fathom behaving as I’d done. Maybe if I had let my James half’s cockiness take hold completely, but Alan would never have allowed it. You didn’t sink a ton of resources into a new ability to not use it as much as you could. I would have done something; there were dozens of ways to distract him. There was condensation on the ceiling, I could have turned the oven on to clean and filled the room with the scent of food, and, of course, in terms of allies, I had—

Smoothie.

“Smoothie!” I exclaimed, turning to check on him. Like a vice grip, unexplained terror for his well-being had suddenly seized my heart.

The tabby cracked an eye at hearing his name, sniffed the air, and became a liquid missile, rocketing at the rat. I laughed. I swear, the old shinobi barely reacted, save to fling the kitten away, but I could see the sigh in his demeanor.

I gestured emphatically to Annie. Smoothie’s single-minded, obsessive predator drive had lit the fire in me. “Again, I want to see it again. Another hand.” I’d probably lose, but I could strip to buy back in, a privilege not afforded to the animal. “I need to see it again.”

Annie shuffled the deck with shaking hands. Killing intent had pushed out all the remaining air in the room. I knew I should have wrangled it back inside me – I was sure it felt like drowning for the women – but I couldn’t. A bone-deep certainty had control of me: somehow, in some way, I had been violated just now.

My win was probable after Annie’s shuffle, but I rolled the Legerdemain anyway, using her shaking hands and Smoothie’s distraction to guarantee my win. If the rat noticed, he said nothing. Probably a good sign, I thought, it looked like he couldn’t spare the focus while also turning the kitten away every few seconds.

I pushed my remaining chips in before the flop—

(       Empty      )Awful hag. I’d always hated Ted’s mother.what is this?It would be difficult to fake my grief at her funeral if she did kill herself. The last time a storm had knocked out power in their area, a dark part of me had wished her CPAP machine would malfunction in the night, somehow choking her to death. She was like an anchor around Ted and Cici’s necks, impossibly selfish. He was just too reliable and stalwart for his own good. I wonder if he knew it was killing him.where amI? I liked to think I was pretty reliable – I mean, I tried to be at least – but, goddamn, there was a difference between being helpful and being a doormat. God, I hoped his sister’s cellphone was dead whenever their mom first got the news, and I hope the crone had been squirrelling away extra Xanax like he feared she was, I really did. Evil bitch. I’d hated her the first time we met. You ever meet a friend’s parents and think to yourself, ‘Oh, so you guys are why he’s like that. Huh.’

Would I be the only one of us who’d get no funeral or memorial? Probably. Mom would rather forget than confront the loss. That was for the best, I think, a life blessed by ignorance

I screamed into my hands, my head pounding. It felt like I should have a nosebleed. In a movie, I would have had a nosebleed.

I stared at the vermin through my spread fingers. God, why couldn’t I have been born blind? The light was unbearable. There were needles in my eyes. “Changing…the…timeline?” My voice was hoarse and weak. It was my best guess; I wasn’t sure how else to explain what was happening. “You’d go so far…for a slice…of cake?”

His white and grey skin draped over his skeleton like a burial shroud. For as miserable as he appeared, the look in his eyes was one of pure joy. One foot in the grave, that was how a warrior was meant to live. “I’d go further.”

I burst into a fit of manic giggles, clutching at my sides and trying not to cry. In another life, in another time, I’d been born as a rat.

Maki started to get up to comfort or check on me, but I waved her down and rolled a Willpower to try and gather myself quickly.

A wolfish grin spread across my face. “You won’t survive the third time. If you think I’d spare you…”

Contentment on his withered form, he radiated, “Don’t you know? The strong come to this city to die.”

“James,” said Maki, panic touching her voice.

She was right. One more trip past the Veil of reality and I might not return. Or worse, something else would come back in my skin.

What horror. There were supposed to be demons and monsters in the Abyss, formless, hateful beings from before Creation. Instead, all I'd found in the darkness were my worst impulses, my cruelest desires – the worst of all possibilities. There were supposed to be demons. You could punch demons.

I sat cross-legged and upright, and put my hands on my knees. Hm. If I couldn’t hold it together, I would just have to use my last moments of sanity to liquefy my brain – not so bad. Maki would be very upset with me if I survived and livid if I didn’t, but she would come to understand. “It’s true,” I said to my rival, “whether a youxia or a shinobi, a true martial artist should meet death head on.” With a flick of my wrist, I tore my shorts and boxers off and tossed them to the side. “Cash me back in, woman.”

“James Li! You listen to me—”

“Hey,” interrupted a dreamy, confused Annie, “has that door been open the whole time?”

I turned and saw that the door to the Meditation Chamber was wide open, faux daylight spilling through. Framed in the threshold and sticking out of the carefully cultivated sand was the Bleached Bone Blade, white steel gleaming. No wonder the room was so damn bright.

I turned back to Annie. How had she noticed the change in the timeline when Maki couldn’t, and without my specialized Feats?

My intent stare snapped her back to her senses. “Uh, is something wrong?”

“I forfeit or whatever. Enjoy the cake. I’ll kill you next time.” I waved the rat away and grabbed my student by the shoulders. He silently vanished with the box in a cloud of half-eaten cherry blossom petals. “Annie, this is fantastic! Holy shit, an actual clue, I can’t believe it!”

[Hidden Quest Complete!]

Faced the rat in a life-or-death game of cards.

Reward: 10XP, Artifact Token; Annie and Maki gain +1 Perception, +1 Wits; Smoothie gains 30XP, +2 Martial Arts, +1 Agility, +1 Willpower

“Huh? Oh. Cool.” She paused. “Sorry, what’s happening?”

“An excellent question,” said Maki, maybe just a touch angrier than I’d expected her to be, which was to say, extremely upset.

"Things are beginning to add up, Maki! Between that freaky poem, the case of Augustus Fletcher, and this, a picture starts to form of Crucifixion, Missouri. A pretty grim, Lovecraftian picture, come to think of it – but I'm in no condition to be thinking!" I clapped and jumped to my feet. "This calls for a celebration. I'm making you guys a full lunch, bets be damned."

“You can’t bribe your way out of this, James.”

"Can't I, though?" I wagged my eyebrows.

She gave my student a sidelong glance and switched to Japanese. “You’re unwell. I want to know what’s going on.”

“Speak in English,” I said in Japanese. “She’s my senior student.”

Maki nodded, chagrinned, and repeated her statement in English.

I weighed my words quietly, the silence stretching for longer than I’d have preferred, before responding in kind. “We can discuss it later.”

“We can discuss it now.” Her hands had a slight tremor. She tried to hide them beneath the coffee table.

“At our level,” I gestured to where the rat had been, “no one walks away from a duel unscathed.” I held up a hand to halt her reply. “I’m not pretending I’m fine. I’m injured, I’m taking it seriously, and I’ll recover. Just give me a minute, okay? Please.”

“Over a game of cards. A game of cards! At least my brother’s pride drove him to his death over a sacred duty!”

I chuckled and ran a hand through my hair. “Yeah, well, the sequel’s dumber than the original. Ain’t that the way it goes?”

She sucked in a breath, apoplectic with anger, too much so to even speak.

“Look. I promise I’ll take this, uh,” I tapped my temple, unsure how to describe Willpower Damage, “this seriously. After lunch, I’ll spend the rest of the day meditating and recovering. You and Annie can do self-study. I’ll even try to avoid any major life decisions for the next few days. I just need…I’d like if we could talk about this later, please. Everything’s fine. I’d just like a second.”

Her lips were tight, but the anger was being edged out by worry again. “That’s what it means to pursue strength? The eternal pursuit of self-destruction?”

“Yeah. More-or-less.”

“Hmph!” She turned her head away. “It would be nice if you could be a little more selective when choosing opportunities to risk your life, James. There should be a distinction between nobly facing death and sprinting headlong towards it.”

“That would be nice, yeah.”

“It’s not too much to ask for as your partner, is it, a modicum of self-preservation?”

“No, it’s not,” I said evenly.

Maki closed her eyes, lower lip trembling as she gathered herself. What could I say? Sometimes a hero’s death wasn’t always so heroic. Sometimes you were murder-suicided by your rat rival over a slice of cake. That was a hazard of the job…

Huh, maybe she was on to something. That didn’t sound right when I put it that way.

There was a long silence, contemplative for the two of us, and intensely uncomfortable for Annie. Eventually, though, Maki let out a long breath and turned to face me again, neither happy nor mad.

"I can't be too upset. A rival Kami challenged you in your own temple; you were always going to respond. It's like expecting a bear to de-escalate after being attacked in its cave." She rested her chin in her palm, suddenly very tired. "I knew what I was getting into. Your nature is to pursue strength above all – as inextricable as waves from the sea." She glanced at Annie. "You don't need to learn everything from your master. It must be exhausting to be a martial artist at times. Maybe if we're proactive, we can preserve some of your remaining sanity."

Annie's relief at no longer being a bystander to a couple's argument was palpable enough that it brightened the room, returning some much-needed levity to the atmosphere. She giggled. "Don't worry, James was raised in this life. You've got years before I'm as crazy as him."

“I’ll be sure to savor our time together, then.” Maki pushed herself to her feet with great difficulty and held a hand out to Annie. “Come, my dear, we both need showers, and I fear I might need some additional assistance.”

“Okay!”

“It’ll give us time to discuss our future film as well.”

Annie gulped. “Haha, uh, cool!”

“By the way,” I said, stopping them in the hallway. They turned around to see me wearing a soft smile, shoulders slightly rolled forward, one hand behind my head, the very image of ‘a man who is going to be alright’ – sans the nudity, unfortunately, but allowances had to be made. “Good work today. You were both fantastic.”

“Thanks, Shifu!”

Maki said nothing, but the tension left her shoulders. I had definitely crushed my Acting roll.

I grinned. “I’ll have to come up with all sorts of new, creative ways to keep challenging you.”

She rolled her eyes and turned around before I could catch her smile, pulling the redhead behind her.

I stood in place, perfectly still, and waited a few minutes after they’d disappeared into the bathroom to break character. The static returned in force. My smile faded as I found myself sinking into a low crouch, head cradled in my arms.

My nature?

That couldn’t be right. I wouldn’t just mindlessly pursue strength without reason. I did this for my friends. Neither side of me wanted power for power’s sake. James wanted to be a character, to embody a child’s fantasy in real life, prove that heroes could exist, and Alan…Alan enjoyed storytelling and the company of others. All the greatest pleasures of life, all the memories worth making, were found by a friend’s side. If you want what you have, you’ll always have what you want, I used to say. I’d never been sure what I meant by it, if I was being hopeful or despondent, but it was pithy and made my friends groan. That alone made it worth saying.

“Whose hands are these?” I stared at them, and past them, at a silk rug that I’d never purchased, under lights that had never been installed. The vintage clock on the console ticked a solemn reply. It existed. I’d bought it with Base Tokens.

It was a shame heroes could only cry when dramatically appropriate; might have been helpful right now.

Steam hissed erratically from the pipes. Behind me, through the door to the Meditation Chamber and cast in artificial sunlight, the Hakkotsu no Ha taunted me with its continued silence. I hated that; it was the Abyss all over again. Evil swords were meant to talk to you, to whine at mercy and barter for mayhem.

I turned to eye the white steel spitefully. “Don’t look so smug. So you opened a door, big deal. I open doors all the time. Just ‘cause you don’t have thumbs doesn’t make it impressive.” It said nothing, as usual. “Dummy.”

Smoothie meowed up at me from my side, tail twitching in concern. My body language, stiff, afraid, and bubbling with mania, was new to him.

“Aw, jeez, sorry, little guy. That rat did a number on your old man.” I ran a hand down my face and rolled my shoulders, standing up to my full height. Doing my best Gollum impersonation couldn’t have been helping with my mental health.

What exactly had he done, anyway? Funikugami had tied Fate for me once, ensuring that I’d meet the Hungry Ghost on the night of the exorcism, but the rat’s technique lacked all the elegance of the Carrion King’s Curse. I had felt unmoored from reality, lost in a vast, pointless, cruel place devoid of all meaning. It was like he’d imposed a crude fiction of his liking onto the world – not unlike what the Producers did regularly, to draw the uncomfortable parallel. Insane. How did you fight a power like that?

The sword said nothing.

“What a mess. Willpower Damage was the last thing I needed before Crucifixion.” I scooped up Smoothie and held him to my chest, instantly feeling more myself. “Man, I hate losing. All that for ten Experience and an Artifact Token. At least you and the girls got some Dice out of it – well deserved, of course. You three are the reason today wasn’t an embarrassment for Black City Kung Fu, really showed your stuff in front of our guest.”

Smoothie squirmed and purred, torn between enjoying the attention and his inherent hatred for all forms of restraint. He felt a bit stronger than he had before his nap and was more deliberate in his attempts to escape than usual.

“All things considered, it was pretty fun getting to fight alongside my precious orange son.” I smiled – a real one, this time. “We didn’t do too bad, pushed him to the edge, at least. You don’t remember, but you forced him to put you back to sleep every time he used his technique. Shit, that’s no joke. Less than a year old and already making a meaningful difference in a duel with an Immortal, that’s gotta be a record.”

I held him in front of my face. He started rapidly whapping me without his claws, demanding I return him to the warmth of my chest.

“It was a thing of beauty; you embodied the best of your personal style, unrestrained, unreasoning, violence – a complete and enduring commitment to murder, very impressive. You know what that means?” The kitten began using his claws, recognizing the shift in tone. “Smooches for Smoothie!”

I buried my face in his belly and started firing off kisses. Smoothie returned fire, raking at my neck with his back claws and chomping down on my scalp. My Force Armor could still hold him off, but he was coming along nicely. Soon the little tyke would be able to make me bleed. They grew up so fast, didn’t they?

“Mwahahaha, you’ll need to sharpen your claws to escape my Ten Thousand Smooches Technique, young warrior!”

AN: These apologies are becoming all too common. I did have surgery in this midst of writing this that left me with bad brain fog, but honestly, I'd given myself the challenge of writing an update that represented every genre in the story and it was more difficult than I assumed. Sex scene in next update.