When Clouds Rain Red

Acting was something that Harper never had thought he had a problem with.

He had always believed he was terrific at the skill. His last bit of luck had managed to nearly convince the man before him with an accidental spark of potential talent and his little skill. Law enforcement had never suspected him, not that they had any reasons. He killed at random, leaving behind nothing to track him. When someone asked him about the string of murders, it was out of his opinion on the matter, and his ability to remain calm and appear unrelated to the deaths in any form was the root of his flawed disposition.

The guard before him didn't appear gullible; he would not fall for his words again. It was apparent that the acting skills he held so much pride in from his previous world weren't as applicable here. The killer had never had any actual experience with interrogations or so much questioning from the police in his previous world. Thus, his acting skills were entirely in his head.

Harper didn't have amazing acting skills. He could act enough that people who weren't looking for a serial killer wouldn't notice him as he lived his daily life.

His acting was Okay at best.

"What? I don't see anything."

Even without the information, he could have ascertained from learning about this guard's 'level,' stats, titles, abilities; Harper knew this guard was a fucking unit and a half. No amount of meager hand-to-hand and knife experience he had would save him if he tried to attack this man. And the bare minimum of not knowing, at least however far behind, left him uneasy.

Sighing, the guard looked like he was about fed up. Confusion, annoyance, and nervous anger that he had done terribly to conceal. He was visibly not in the mood to deal with him, or even gaze at him for that matter.

If Harper thought those damn murder rabbits were fast, he had to think again.

The twirl of the spear had been impossible to register, nor the action of the weapon being thrust through his chest. It all occurred within the time it took to blink. Harper's blood was pooling to the ground below him, a grin splitting his maw as he gazed into the guard's eyes.

The guard's eyes twinged with far too much suspicion than Harper had hoped for. "You have too many unknowns," he said.

Harper understood well; he had no resentment towards the guard. He was doing his job, and Harper would revive five minutes prior anyway. He could find another entrance to the town and hoped to high hell that it wasn't someone else who came from Earth. It would be another nightmare, especially if he couldn't get some new clothes on his person.

"Can you make it quick?"

The guard hesitated for an instant; then, a spearhead impaled Harper's heart.

Gasping, Harper's eyes teared up as he stumbled forward. It was a miracle that his legs didn't fall out from under him as he revived. Was revived the right word; he was not too sure. Resurrected? No, still not right. Whatever it was, he decided he could think on it later. Harper had a mission, and considering the town was far larger up close than from afar, he wanted to believe the trek to another wall entrance wouldn't take an hour or two.

To his dismay, it took four.

Roughly the same size as the previous gate, the guard stationed here was undoubtedly a pushover. He was not a pushover for Harper right now, for obvious reasons. Still, a beer belly, scraggy long beard, half-lidded eyes, and the tip of his unmaintained longsword haphazardly resting on the ground were easy indicators.

A curt nod was his greeting to the guard; his eyes lingered momentarily. The stench of booze rolled off the lazy bastard in a haze, and his posture left Harper wondering how the wind had not yet toppled him.

Three-fourths of the way past, the guard spoke. "You goin' somewhere?" He had to take two steps to turn towards Harper, a sleazy, unfocused grin on the man's face. "No identification, weird clothes, no weapon or cart. You ain't no guilder or merchy."

Harper turned towards the fat guard with a fraction of the effort.

"Don't got anything on me; this is the first town I've been to. Here to get identification."

"No identification, no entry."

"I don't have any identification, only the clothes on my back."

"So, ya saying ya don't have access to the world order?"

"The system?"

"Ahh, otherer speech."

The fat bastard sighed, his shoulders managing to slump lower. "Ya know how to open yur world order? If ya can show it to me, I'll get ya to the guild house. They'll allow ya to stay the night if ya do a quest in the morn."

"That works for me. How do I show you my sys- World order?"

Doing what the previous guard had done, he waved his hand to do what Harper assumed was the act of showing one's world order. "Ya gotta wave your hand in the direction you want to show your world order and activate it using World Order, show."

Nodding, Harper did as the fat bastard confirmed.

Walt scratched his head; he had never seen something like this. What was the World Order doing, and why did it show this for the otherer? He'd never seen something like this in his fifty-two years of life.

[Quixroth World Order]

Name: UnNamed

Level: UnKnown

Age: UnKnown

Titles: Blocked

Magic: Blocked

Abilities: Blocked

After agreeing to bring UnNamed to the guild house, Walt led the way, remaining on the side of caution. Leading the obscure individual, one of the few otherers in this town came to mind. Riley.

Riley's World Order would only ever say Hidden, never Blocked. He was honestly stumped, but a deal was a deal. Even if he didn't get any information on the otherer, he wasn't wearing anything, and he doubted he was powerful. Regardless of this, the guard wanted to warn everyone. This individual was extremely dangerous due to the fact he lacked any details in his world order.

He wasn't dangerous now, but he was a potential disaster in the making.

Everyone in this world grew at different rates. Some could rise above level one hundred in less than a year... He had seen it himself, another otherer who had arrived forty years ago. It's been over a decade since he had last met the individual, now a king of his own nation.

Rin was an extremely emphatic king. Kind, gracious, and fair, with a mean streak for getting everything he wanted for his kingdom.

Rin's kingdom wasn't perfect, but Walt considered it as close as it could get. Food was available on every table, schooling was provided to every child, and money was easy to earn. Lastly, entertainment was few and far between, one of the best positive impacts of the presence of otherers.

It was a paradise, for the innocent, at least.

The guard's thoughts moved back to UnNamed, hoping to Reius that he wasn't like Rin regarding his growth rate. He already gave him an uneasy feeling, but he supposed it was better to keep an eye on the likely low-level individual. UnNamed was potentially dangerous in his previous world, but Quixroth wouldn't be nearly as forgiving. Walt knew the dangers of this world and how tame other worlds were in comparison, thanks to his conversations with hundreds of otherers. UnNamed will not last long in this town, his town.

Walt would make sure of that.

Harper was talking with the guard on his way to the guild house. The guard seemed distracted by his thoughts, seemingly unaware he was actually conversing with him. Harper didn't care; he had his own thoughts racing.

Everything was on the fly; he had no plan and still lacked the details to make any. Hopefully, the guild house would hold valuable information about this world. That was if he had the time to gather information. The guard, still smelling of booze, his posture appeared to improve. He was on his guard, just as much if not more cautious of him than that of the previous guard.

That made this man dangerous; he wouldn't fall for his acting. Acting he was quickly learning wasn't as effective as he believed it was. Arriving at the guild house now, if the guard remained lost in thought, would be a miracle. Surviving the night would likely leave him with an eye over him till he left the town; if he is lucky, it would only be in this town. Harper wasn't sure how fast information spread in this world.

Flashing his eyes at his surroundings, Harper wanted to scan as much of the town as possible. He needed to imprint the entire layout into his memory. One thing that Harper had total confidence in was his memory. It was photographic; he could recall almost every memory of his lift to the second. There were spotty areas, but only when he had gotten a little too drunk.

Quickly reproducing the streets he had seen, a building far larger than any others came into view. It was wider than it was tall, not that its height was anything to scoff at. From its front, it was on par with the face of a small supermarket. Counting the windows going up, it was three stories tall, a little shorter than the four and five-story buildings on either side.

The guard remained to his rear the entire time, so Harper opened one of the large, wood double doors. Entering with the drunken guard behind him, his eyes fell upon a lone receptionist, mid-yawn.

"Oh, Walt. Good evening, who's the newcomer." Harper's brow raised slightly. So that was the guard's name, good to keep that in mind,

"Yeah, another otherer. He's... Unique. Need to get him a tight room for tonight, I'll deal with him in the morning."

Nodding to Walt, the receptionist turned to Harper. "So, newcomer. What's your name?"