The Last Experience Point

Chapter 19: Last Few Moments of Freedom

Briefly steering the bicycle with one hand, Zach wiped sweat from his brow and resisted the temptation to crack open one of the four bottles of water he’d somehow managed to fit inside his cramped backpack. Though he desperately wanted to quench his thirst, he knew it wouldn’t be wise to indulge his parched throat until he had a better idea of where he’d be going next and, more specifically, how long he’d need to make his current supplies last. Nevertheless, it wasn’t easy to stop himself. He badly wanted to down all four of the bottles right here on the spot. Gods, how was it so hot? It was still at least an hour before noon, and already, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

It’s only going to get hotter, too, isn’t it? Wouldn’t even be so bad if it wasn’t also so damn humid.

“Zach,” Fluffles called to him from the basket in the front of their bicycle.

“Yeah, little buddy?”

“It time to make shiny ball yet?”

“Five more minutes,” he replied, wanting to get just a little bit farther away from Doom-Bound Keep, where he and Fluffles had caused a bit of a stir.

It had been just under an hour since the two of them had biked out of the town, and while Zach was glad to have put it behind him, he couldn’t help but feel very strange about the way in which the two had left. To be perfectly honest, he was weirded out and uncomfortable—and believe it or not, it had nothing at all to do with the little bit of mayhem that Fluffles had caused. Instead, it had everything to do with the peacekeepers’ reaction to it.

Wanting to both avoid trouble and prevent any more of it from arising, he’d taken off at a brisk pace, making straight for the suburban road that would lead him and his snoozing cat out and away from the growing commotion. He’d almost made it, too. Unfortunately, he’d been spotted just as he’d gotten onto the final stretch of the road leading out of town.

Several DEHV cruisers had pulled up in front of his bicycle, and six men and two women in white-and-blue polyester uniforms had approached him. For a few moments, he had been terrified of what might happen next, as it had been impossible for him not to notice the HC-9m service pistols secured in holsters at their sides. He’d fully expected them to arrest him or, at the very least, take him in for questioning. But to his surprise and astonishment, the eight of them had done neither of these things. Instead, what they had actually done had left him so shocked that he still couldn’t fully bring himself to believe it.

“Good morning to you, sir. We ah, we…we heard about the incident that just took place,” one of them had said, approaching Zach. He’d felt himself becoming anxious, wondering if this was the moment he’d end up thrown in a cell somewhere.

“I’m…I’m sorry about that,” Zach had replied, having had no idea what to say. In fact, he’d been thinking more about whether or not to try making a run for it with Fluffles. He’d almost done it, too, but he’d stopped in his tracks as the peacekeeper had winced fearfully at him and released a nervous laugh.

“Don’t be sorry, sir,” he’d said, waving a hand at Zach. “Honestly, it’s probably our fault anyway. We just wanted to let you know how sorry we all are. In fact, we’re investigating what might have provoked you, and I give you my word it will not happen again. So…please,” he said, extending both of his arms towards the road and actually bowing, “feel free to go on about your business.”

With his eyes wide, his mind blown, and his brain struggling to interpret what it had just witnessed, Zach had merely nodded his thanks and continued on his way, with Fluffles still having been asleep in his basket.

It had only been around fifteen minutes later, when the shock began to wear off, that Zach pieced together the most likely explanation for what in the name of the Gods had just taken place. The peacekeepers, both from witness reports and basic common sense, must have reasoned that whatever had just been done in their town had been done via the use of abilities from someone higher than level 1. They had also likely thought that Zach had been responsible, not the cat. But either way, they almost certainly feared him and therefore treated him like royalty who was above the law and immune to consequences.

Just like Varsh, he recalled bitterly.

The craziest part about all of it though was that if one of them had pulled out their gun and shot him, Zach would probably have ended up in the hospital if not dead. Though he was no expert yet on the subject of leveling, he was still pretty confident that his 3 points in constitution would not protect him from a bullet. Sure, it might make the difference between death and hospitalization, but it certainly wouldn’t stop their guns from tearing into him. The only conclusion he could draw, then, was that the men had not known that and would likely not be willing to risk it.

Can’t say I blame them, though.

So yeah, Zach wanted to make sure he was just a little bit further away from the town before he stopped pedaling. Just in case, you know, they reconsidered for whatever reason and decided to come arrest him after all. In truth, the only thing protecting him from prison—or worse—was the mere perception of him in the minds of those who actually could take him down if they were brave enough to try. Knowing this, Zach wanted to make absolutely sure he didn’t cross paths again with them by mistake. Yet at the same time, he also knew he needed to stop and summon the wisp sooner rather than later, as he no longer had any solid idea if he was even heading in the right direction.

Right now, the two of them traveled just off to the side of a divided, interstate highway called Basilisk Way, which unlike the Blood Rain Expressway, was far older, very lightly trafficked, and did not contain a single hover-lane, which meant DEHVs would have to use their ground tires, capping their speed at less than a hundred miles per hour.

In the hour he’d spent biking along this interstate, the scenery around him had changed dramatically. Back in town, there had been trees, ponds, a lake or two, as well as houses, business, and playgrounds. But now, no matter how far he glanced into the distance on either side of the road, there was nothing to be seen but an endless, seemingly infinite stretch of farmland. Other than the occasional ranch, cabin, or pen for livestock, it was just grass and crops as far as the eye could see.

Zach squeezed the brakes on his handlebars and came to a stop. To his left, he heard a rumbling sound as a massive commercial DEHV with a label painted on that said “SOIL BOYZ” sped along the road and passed them by. It had been almost fifteen minutes since the last time they’d seen a vehicle. It was such a stark contrast to the Blood Rain Expressway, which was constantly overflowing with traffic and activity.

From what he understood, Basilisk Way ran for several-hundred miles and led to the breathtakingly beautiful city in Tomb of Fire, which Zach recalled learning used to be the capital city of humanity until Peter IV was beheaded and the kingdom was dismantled.

Once the bicycle came to a halt, Zach reached over and scratched Fluffles’ chin. The cat purred, then hopped out of the basket to stretch his legs. “Now we make shiny ball, Zach?”

“In a second. Actually, let me use the ability now so that I can recover first if we need to chase after it.”

Zach activated Boundless, and he immediately had to take a seat. He’d already been sweating profusely to begin with, but having activated his ability, he was now dripping sweat from both sides of his face. He could feel it uncomfortably rolling down his back, as well.

“Whew,” he said, panting. “Gods be damned.”

Was it possible that it wasn’t as bad as the last time he’d used it? A part of him thought so, but it was kind of difficult to tell, because last time, he’d come off a nice, long period of bedrest, whereas this time, he was already exhausted from his “five-minute test” with Fluffles; the ability actually seemed to make his body’s aches a bit more pronounced.

While he caught his breath, Zach reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I need to figure out some stuff really quickly.”

“What Zach need to know?”

He smiled at Fluffles. “So, when I summoned the wisp on the roof of my apartment back in Whispery Woods—err, the city of Whispery Woods, I mean, I decided to use distance as a guide to when and where to use the wisps.” On his phone, he tracked his current location and then entered the address to his apartment. “According to this, we’ve traveled 70 miles since leaving home. Gods, that’s amazing.”

“That not so far,” Fluffles said, clearly disagreeing.

“Maybe not for you, little buddy, but for me, that’s a lot. Wow, I can’t believe that’s how far we’ve come already.” He tapped his finger against his chin. “Anyway, the point is I’ve been heading in the direction I think it moved in. The thing is, the farther we go, the easier it is to get off track. Especially since you can’t always move in a straight line, at least not when going through towns and the like. So, my point is, I have no idea if we’re still heading in the right direction. The only thing I know for sure is that the wisp went south.”

“That important?”

“Yes. Come here. I’ll explain.”

Zach patted the spot next to where he sat on the side of the road, gesturing for Fluffles to come over. “Come look at this,” he said, shaking his phone. The cat walked up to him and sniffed it. Zach had to force himself not to laugh. He knew how volatile Fluffles could be when Zach laughed at his weird cat behavior. It was just hard not to chuckle at the fact that, even knowing fully well what a phone was, Fluffles still decided he had to sniff it.

“What Zach want Fluffles to see?”

He pointed at his screen. “So, here’s the situation we’re in, okay? The spawn we’re looking for is either going to be to the south, the south-east, or the south-west—obviously, to varying degrees. Now, if it’s heading southwest, we can follow this road on our bike without an issue, and it’ll take us to the Tomb of Fire. That’s what I’m hoping will happen.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one, because I’ve always wanted to see that city, but really, because if we stay on the road, not only can we bike the rest of the way, but there’ll be plenty of places to stop for food and water.”

The cat meowed, likely at the mention of food. Zach waited to see if he had any questions so far. When he said nothing, Zach resumed his explanation. “So,” he continued, pinching his phone screen and zooming out on the map. Fluffles leaned in closer as he panned the map in another direction. “If the spawn is either due south or mostly south, then we’ll have to trek through farmland for a bit, but only for a few hours, because we’ll end up coming across more towns just like the one we passed. Then we can get on this main road here”—he ran his finger along it—“and it’ll be smooth sailing. Overall, it’ll be a bit rougher, but still doable.”

Again, Fluffles meowed but said nothing. So Zach, after a brief pause, pinched the screen to again zoom out, then like before, he panned the map in a third direction. “If it's south east, that’s going to be the one that sucks.” Zach pointed across the divided interstate to the two-lane road on the other side, which was separated from the one they were currently on by a small, but continuous patch of grass that seemed to run along the entirety of the interstate. “Then we’ll have to go straight that way.”

“Why that suck?” Fluffles asked.

Zach sighed. “Because if we end up having to go that way, it’s almost entirely farmland for more than three-hundred miles. There are some very, very small towns and a couple of even smaller villages here or there, but they’re spaced pretty far apart. And this bike, I mean…it’s not a mountain bike. We can’t take it with us, so we’ll have to ditch it since it’ll only slow us down. We’ll both have to walk.”

“That okay. Fluffles like walking.”

Zach rubbed his chin as he thought. “The only good thing about south-east is that, at least based on how the map looks on my phone, we can probably go in pretty much a straight line—well depending on how far away we have to go.”

“Far away?”

He nodded. “Well, yeah. Don’t forget, Fluffles. We don’t actually know how far away this ‘nearest Aquatic-type enemy’ actually is. So we might be stuck on this one stretch of farmland for over three-hundred miles. Or wait…no, sorry. That’s how long it takes to get to the city in Shadowfall Coast. To get back to just regular-sized suburban towns, it’s only two-fifty. But that’s still a lot.”

Apparently, if he were to head due south-east, he’d actually officially leave the Whispery Woods region in a hundred-fifty miles, crossing into Shadowfall Coast. The terrain wouldn’t change, but the level of danger might. Zach really hoped they found the spawn before crossing that border, as according to the news, the fighting between the Guild of Gentlemen and the Royal Roses had become extremely vicious, intense, and the death count was really starting to rack up. That was just fine with him, of course, but what had him worried was the muttering that things could soon turn ugly even for regular civilians.

Zach knew from social studies that every major guild—and even most minor ones—had roughly a century ago signed an agreement called the “Sanctity of Human Life Accords” that forbade any warring guilds from engaging in combat with ten or more participants while within the confines of a densely populated area, such as a city, a mall, a movie theater, etc. It also forbade guild officials and their officers from seeking refuge inside of these areas. If found to be inside, they were given three days to either surrender or meet on the field of battle, or at least that was how it was supposed to go. But from what Zach was hearing, many of the highest-level members of the Guild of Gentlemen, as well as tens of thousands of their level-1 troops—according to the news, anyway—were currently fortifying themselves inside their city.

Supposedly, there was even talk of the Royal Roses losing patience and considering returning to what the news called “conventional warfare,” which was some really old type of fighting that involved tanks, bombs, and using…what was it called again…? Something like “long-range artillery?”

Zach had gotten that one wrong on a multiple-choice test once, so he’d gone back and studied the material twice as hard, and he was pretty sure that was what it was called—long-range artillery. But whatever the hell it was, they were saying crazy stuff on TV about this turning into a “classical conventional war.” Zach seriously doubted it, though. There was no way something like that could happen in modern times. This was just the guilds talking up a big game in order to rattle one another.

It’s never going to happen.

Even knowing how ridiculous the idea, Zach nevertheless hoped to avoid that region just in case the guilds started engaging in open, tactical-based warfare instead of doing what they always did: agree to meet on some empty field somewhere far away from citizens, wait for an independent moderator to arrive, and then fight once the war-whistle was blown.

“Zach look worried,” Fluffles said.

“I’m not.” He smiled. “So yeah, those are the three ways we might end up going. But whichever one it is, at least we’ve got a great view here!”

Topographically speaking, they just-so-happened to be on a section of the interstate that had the highest elevation of any stretch over the next few-hundred miles. This meant that, gazing out into the farmland, Zach could see far, far into the distance, especially in the south east, where the terrain would have a very slight and gradual decline for several miles before mostly leveling off.

Bringing himself back up to his feet, Zach patted a few pebbles and some dirt off his exposed knees. He felt a bit better now that he’d had a chance to sit down and rest. “Are you ready?” he asked the cat.

“Fluffles ready!” he said cheerily.

“All right, let’s do this. And hey, maybe we’ll get lucky and the spawn will be right around here somewhere. It’s at least possible, you know?”

Zach removed his backpack and held it in front of him. First, he reached into the smallest pouch in the backpack and retrieved the compass that he’d bought for 2 gold—well, more like 250 gold, but whatever—and then he opened the primary compartment, fished through his disorganized mess of clothing stuffed inside, and pulled out the box of Frog Snax.

“Zach,” Fluffles moaned, watching him with hungry, greedy eyes.

He twisted his lips. “Come on, this is important.”

“But…but I love Frog Snax. Frog Snax are Fluffles’ favorite.”

Zach pressed his forefinger against the cardboard flap at the top of the box, peering inside and visually confirming that seven of them did in fact remain. Then he looked over at Fluffles, who was now meowing repeatedly. The fact that he was even considering giving him one made him feel like a soft-hearted idiot—but not as much as the fact that he then actually reached in and gave him one.

“Hurray!” Fluffles cheered, slowly and loudly munching the treat. Was it possible that, earlier, on top of his apartment building, the cat hadn’t been eating it slowly just to taunt him? He couldn’t be sure with someone like Fluffles, but it was starting to genuinely seem like the cat really did just love these things so much.

To be fair, they are really good, he thought.

He waited for Fluffles to finish so that they could be ready to go on a moment’s notice. Zach stuffed his compass into his pocket, then pulled one of the Frog Snax out of the box and placed it into his mouth—but he did not chew. Holding it there, he stuffed the package back into his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and straddled the seat of his bike as Fluffles hopped into the basket in front of him. Then he began to chew.

The moment he swallowed down the buttery- and cheesy-tasting snack, the wisp appeared immediately above his head. Even amid the punishing, scorching, and unrelentingly bright sun, Zach had absolutely no problems following it with his eyes. He refused to even blink as he watched it rise into the air while making a soft, buzzing hum. Higher and higher it went, until it reached the altitude he’d expect to see from a fairly low-flying helicopter.

For a few seconds, he remained motionless, and even from down here, he could continue to hear the buzzing hum. And then, without warning, it took off—blasting away as though it were powered by jet fuel. “Shit!” Zach shouted. “It’s heading south-east. Fluffles, come on! Ditch the bike!”

Zach threw his legs over the bike, hopped off, and then began to sprint like a madman across the two-way road to the other end of the intersection. He did not bother to look to see if Fluffles was following, because he knew the cat could be trusted to come along with him. His heart racing, he darted his eyes around in search of any possible oncoming traffic as what he was currently doing would emphatically be considered suicidal had it been done on literally any other highway in North Bastia aside from these old, much-less-used lanes.

Pumping his arms and sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him, Zach shot across the grassy partition that separated the divided highway, then continued onwards, now reaching the second of the two-lane roads. Not far ahead of him was an old, metallic, and waist-high guardrail. Not wishing to spare even a single moment, he bent his knees, launched himself up into the air, and then easily brought himself over it, landing back down softly onto the grass on the other side.

I can jump way higher than I used to be able to.

Sparing just the briefest, most fleeting of glances over his shoulder, he confirmed with his eyes that Fluffles was indeed following behind him—no, not behind him, but beside him. He was easily keeping pace with Zach, which made him realize Fluffles was telling the truth earlier about only toying with him and not really trying to kill him. Clearly, the cat could have caught him if he’d wanted to.

Cupping his forehead with his right hand to block out some of the sunlight, Zach kept his eyes laser-focused on the wisp, which moved so fast that it left a trail of white, slowly fading light behind in its wake as it moved.

Running down what was a slight, but still palpable decline in the terrain, Zach gained speed, now moving faster on foot than he’d ever run before in his life. Then, the terrain leveled off and became flat, and with Fluffles still by his side, the two of them burst into a cornfield. The stalks were taller than the top of his head by at least half a foot, and so it was difficult to keep the wisp in his sights, and after just another few seconds, he lost sight of it completely.

“K-keep…keep running!” he gasped out. Overheated, thirsty, panting, and quickly running out of breath, he fought through the pain and relied on his willpower to keep propelling himself farther. It wasn’t long before he finally made it through the stalks of corn, once more able to see the wisp, which was clearly moving way too fast for him to keep in his sights all that much longer.

At the very least, this confirmed one thing to him: the “45 seconds” that this thing was supposed to last likely didn’t start until it actually reached the mob it was heading for. This meant that, theoretically, if Zach had been able to actually chase after this thing—which definitely moved far faster than he could reasonably match—it would lead him all the way to wherever it was going.

A scary thought came to Zach as he realized it was technically possible that this spawn was in another continent. Despite what Mr. Oren had said—or rather, implied—about there being more spawns out there than people realized, Zach himself did not have so much faith. It would be just his luck to chase this thing all the way to Shadowfall Coast only to have to start swimming after it.

Gods damn it, I can’t keep running like this forever!

Badly winded, but nevertheless fueled by a burning determination, Zach continued to throw himself forward. “You…you okay…F-Fl-Fluffles?” he panted.

“Whee!” Fluffles cheered. “I love running! Why Zach not go faster?”

Even if Zach had wanted to answer the cat—and to be clear, he didn’t—there was no way he could speak, as his chest was on fire and his mouth was now wide open as he sucked in as much air into his lungs as he possibly could. He concentrated all his energy and effort into keeping his legs moving one foot in front of the other for as long as possible.

Together with Fluffles, the two of them began running through a beautiful field of yellow. Zach recognized these flowers: they were what people used to make vegetable oil. They were called rapeseeds. Everyone in class had snickered when they’d learned about modern agriculture and this particular plant had been brought up. One boy in the class had even raised his hand and asked, “What if I’m not into seeds?”

Ganks and his off-color jokes, Zach thought, wanting to laugh but too exhausted.

Just a few-dozen feet up ahead, Zach braced himself as he realized he and Fluffles were heading right into a thick row of underbrush that ran from the ground up to a height almost twice his own. Gritting his teeth, he slammed straight through it, coming out the other side and nearly tripping over a cucumber. He realized he was now in a field of them. Thousands of cucumber plants organized in neat little lines separated by patches of dirt that was hard to walk on because it was uneven and hurt the arches of his feet.

That’s it. I’m tapped out. Not that it matters. The thing is almost too far away to keep tracking.

As the wisp continued to streak across the sky, it moved so far away that it was almost to the point of leaving his vision, Zach, taking in deep, fast inhalations of breath, began to slow down while reaching into his pocket to grab his compass, holding it up in front of him and aligning it exactly in the direction the wisp was flying.

All right. 145° southeast. Got it.

Then he slowed from a full-out sprint to a jog to finally settling on a steady, gradual walk. Fluffles overshot him and had to spin around and come back for him. “Yucky cucumbers,” he said, making a stink face at the vegetable. “I hate cucumbers. They look like snake.” He unsheathed his claws and scratched the one nearest to him. Like it would make a difference. There were so damn many of them.

“What we do now?” Fluffles asked, coming alongside Zach after “killing” about ten more cucumbers.

“We keep going,” he replied. “I just need…to catch my breath. No point in running anymore, I think. Wherever this spawn is, it’s, at a minimum, fifty miles southeast of us. That’s at a minimum.”

Catching his breath, Zach walked at a faster but still moderate pace through several more fields until finally he found a section of land that consisted of nothing more than short stalks of grass. It only went on for about a mile before he’d again be forced to trek through field after field of any given plant or vegetable.

There were dirt roads that could get around all this stuff, but Zach didn’t want to risk going off course. He was determined to walk in a straight line until he found his spawn point. Especially since he only had five Frog Snax left on account of Fluffles eating three of them. Thanks, Fluffles!

I can’t afford any mistakes.

Removing the plastic bowl from his backpack, he poured Fluffles half a bottle of water and then downed the other half. It felt so good on his throat, but it also only made him realize how thirsty he was. He craved more of it. The half a bottle was just a damn tease. Fluffles seemed to be feeling the same way.

“Fluffles want more water,” the cat said. “Zach give Fluffles more.”

“Buddy, we need to conserve our supplies. Getting more water would mean we’d have to go off course and head, uh…we’d have to head”—Zach removed his phone and glanced down at the map—“we’d have to walk twelve miles to get to a tiny, dingy little grocery store. But if we keep going on our current course…”

He panned the map and then traced his location to the south east. “We’d only have to go off course by about two miles to get to a small town. Really small. Only two-thousand people live there. But they have a general goods store.”

Fluffles meowed. “Okay but give more water.”

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

The cat hissed. “Fluffles thirsty!”

Zach grunted. “Okay, fine, but we only have three bottles left, so this is your half of the next bottle. You don’t get any more water on the next water break, okay, little buddy?”

“Okay. Fluffles drink his half now.”

“All right then.” Zach poured the water into his bowl. “You don’t get any more the next time we stop.”

He did get more the next they stopped. Obviously. And really? He was a fool to expect otherwise. Three hours passed as Zach, a sweaty mess, marched, waded, and stomped his way through field after field with the cat by his side. When he couldn’t bring himself to take a single additional step without having some water, Fluffles put on the whole “poor me I’m so thirsty” song and dance, and then made a series meows and hisses that eventually wore him down.

His tongue splashing water as he lapped it up cheerfully, Zach rubbed another pool of sweat off his forehead and simply proceeded onwards. Distantly, he wondered how it was possible for a gods-damn cat to be consuming the same amount of water as a human. Since he was such a tiny little ball of fur, shouldn’t he only need like a couple of sips? It also kind of aggravated Zach how much he kept catching Fluffles sneak off to piss somewhere. It meant he was definitely drinking way more than he needed to, just so he could pee it out.

So greedy, he thought. And Mr. Oren tells me I need to work on my damn generosity. Then again…

As Zach watched Fluffles pee then scuttle over to return to his side, he actually felt guilty for thinking the cat was greedy, because truth be told, Fluffles was literally spending all of his time with Zach for the benefit of Zach. It was the diametric opposite of greed. If he was just a normal cat and not a level-47 talking fur-ball with godlike powers, he wouldn’t be here right now. He’d be out running around and chasing birds all day or sleeping or doing whatever it was that cats did. Fluffles probably would prefer that, too. But here he was with Zach, instead.

I seriously hope we don’t end up dying out here of dehydration.

The difference between walking and biking was tremendous. This became unbearably obvious as, after another three hours came and went, the two had only traveled twenty-five miles, or twenty six in total if including the mad dash the two had made chasing after the wisp. Worse, it was also becoming clear that they would seriously need to find some more water. They were down to just a single bottle, and the nearest village was seven miles away in the wrong direction. This meant that he and Fluffles could continue on in the correct heading and reach a village in about fifteen more miles, or, they could make a diversion for supplies and lose seven miles’ worth of travel time.

We’ll never make it fifteen more miles, he thought. Then he swore, shouting out his frustration loudly and angrily, which caused Fluffles to take notice and react to him.

“What wrong?” he asked, sounding concerned. “Why Zach just scream out, ‘Fucking mother fucking son of a bitch!’ at Fluffles?”

Embarrassed, Zach sighed and rubbed his sweaty hair. “Because I’m a terrible person. And also because we now have to go in the wrong direction just to not die.”

Fluffles meowed happily. “That means more adventure! Why, not having fun?”

“No, actually…” He tilted his head somewhat, surprised by his own feelings. “No, you’re right. I am having fun. It’s just Kalana is going to get more and more ahead of me. And I already go through most days lately trying my best not to feel like trash.”

Fluffles said nothing for a while as they began to walk in the direction of the nearest village which, if nothing else, was at least less off course than the previous one would’ve been had they decided to head towards it earlier. Exhausted, Zach said little as they journeyed together, and so did Fluffles. In fact, for the next hour, neither of them spoke a single word to one another. But then Fluffles abruptly halted, which caused Zach to then stop a few feet ahead of him and turn around.

“Zach not worthless,” Fluffles said; his tone was far more serious than Zach had ever heard from the cat.

“I know.”

“No, you not understand. Fluffles appraise you. I see it.”

“See it? Appraise?” Zach laughed, then immediately apologized, knowing how much Fluffles hated that. But Fluffles didn’t seem to be annoyed. If anything, he seemed to be distracted with another thought. He was acting unusual and bizarre. It was only made worse as he walked directly up to Zach and then stared at him for almost an entire minute before speaking.

“Special humans glow when Fluffles look,” he said.

“Huh?”

“When Fluffles look, they glow.”

“You mean, to your eyes, they glow?” The cat meowed affirmatively, and Zach asked, “What do you mean by special people?”

“People Fluffles see that very special.”

“That’s kind of circular.”

As if finally becoming annoyed, the cat hissed, and Zach held his hands out defensively. “All right, all right. I hear you. ‘Special people’ glow when you look at them. Got it.”

The two resumed walking, but this time, it was Zach who stopped short in his tracks—and only five minutes later, too. “Did…did Kalana glow? When you looked at her, I mean.”

Fluffles meowed happily as if at a fond memory. “Kalana glow! She bright.”

Swallowing nervously, Zach asked, “Did I glow?”

Fluffles answered the question so quickly it was as though he’d been waiting for him to ask it. “Zach glow. Zach glow more than anyone Fluffles ever see. Alex not know. No one know. But Zach glow more than anyone. That why Fluffles go with Zach.”

The words were so confusing and difficult to believe that Zach basically couldn’t help but pester Fluffles with a thousand-and-one questions about what he’d just said; somewhat unsurprisingly, Fluffles refused to answer even a single one of them. Even still, Zach tried to get him to talk anyway. He wanted to know: what exactly did Fluffles mean? What did it mean to ‘glow’ in his eyes? Did it mean that he saw some hidden value in Zach that maybe he himself couldn’t see just yet?

I don’t care if I glow or if I dim. I just want to get to level 10 so I can see Kalana again.

Continuing onwards, the two made only light conversation as they spent the next hour and a half making their way to the location on his phone’s GPS. As a testament to the unbelievable strength the sun was showing off today, there had not been a single occasion since early this morning when his phone’s battery had gone below 100% power.

Like any modern cellular device made in the last two decades, whenever a phone was taken out of a pocket or put near a windowsill, its internal light sensor would automatically and instantly switch the internal batteries over from charge mode to solar mode. Even with his screen on the brightest setting, Zach did not once see the top-right of his screen read “Sol 99%.” But now, roughly around two hours before sunset, the device shed a few percentage-points for the first time today.

“Zach, look,” Fluffles said, meowing.

Taking his eyes off his phone, Zach looked ahead and sighed with relief, suddenly glad they’d taken the detour. Up ahead, just beyond a few stables and a ranch, was the outskirts of a small town that, even including the small, but cozy-looking houses, contained fifty or maybe fifty-five structures at max in its entirety. A crooked, badly damaged sign reading “Viper’s Haven” hung on the wall of a tiny little cabin that said “Sherriff’s Office.”

With Fluffles by his side, the two entered the village. A few people turned to look, and they mostly seemed pretty nice. A woman cleaning the stoop outside of a pub waved at the two of them, and Zach waved back. As he would come to learn, this particular little village, like many of the farming villages in this part of North Bastia, thrived by providing services and a place to rest for the numerous deliverymen who traveled from all over North—and in many cases since the drought, South—Bastia to pick up vegetables and other plant-based products. Some traveled great distances, and these people were the lifeblood of this cute little village’s economy. They would often spend the night, shop, or stop by for a drink. Oh, and their inn allowed cats, too!

Yawning, Zach wondered if it was best to call it a day. In truth, he wanted to continue onwards, but Fluffles insisted that the two of them rest. In truth, even Fluffles looked tired, though unlike Zach, his fatigue did not appear physical; rather, he just looked like he needed a snooze. Zach, on the other hand, needed every kind of rest a person could get.

Well, I better get us checked in for a night, then.

He didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary. He’d get them a room, then go to the general goods store, buy a whole bunch of water—and a bigger backpack to carry it all—and then wake up early the next morning ready to leave. That was the plan, and he was sticking to it.

As he made his way towards the middle of the town towards the inn, something in the corner of his eyes made him stop right in his tracks. “Look!” he told Fluffles, becoming excited.

Fluffles looked where he pointed, then meowed.

There was a tiny store across from them: a place so small it could almost be called a shack. It was a little wooden building with barely more space inside than his bedroom back in his apartment in Whispery Woods. But it was what was inside this small space that counted.

“We have to buy one,” Zach said. “I don’t care what it costs!”

Although it might have been the world’s smallest bicycle shop, with fewer than seven different bikes to choose from, Zach could not peel his eyes away from the black and red mountain bike that hung suspended by a chain from the ceiling with the price tag 550g attached to it. Even better, there was a place for him to attach a basket, too.

“Fluffles, I think our lives are about to get a whole lot easier. With this and my”—he dropped his voice to a whisper—“three points in strength, I think we can probably find the spawn by tomorrow afternoon. I’m dead serious.”

“Hurray,” Fluffles whispered back, even though him speaking quietly wasn’t necessary.

If Zach had known that he’d be heading through such rough terrain, he would’ve bought a mountain bike back at home. Even still, this was turning out to be a very, very fortunate turn of events. Because if he now had a way of crossing this more-or-less open terrain in a straight line, then they might end up reaching the spawn points way faster than he would have if he were traveling on smooth roads through town after town.

Zach filled with excitement. As long as it was within this continent, he was going to get there far sooner than he’d ever thought possible.

“Zach look happy,” Fluffles said as the two of them walked to the inn.

“Because I meant what I said,” he replied giddily. “Our lives, buddy, are about to get a whole lot easier.”

In hindsight, Zach should have known better than to say something so bold as if challenging the universe itself to prove him wrong. It was an interesting thing to wonder, though: would Zach have still felt this way if he’d known he was about to be trapped inside of a mob-filled dungeon with no way of escaping aside from obtaining a boss key?

Eh, probably not. Either way, it was good that Zach enjoyed his last few moments of freedom with his furry pal Fluffles. Because tomorrow, he'd get his wish.