The last time Arthur had set foot in Manchester, he’d been seven years old. It had been thirteen years since then, and the place hadn’t changed a bit. He still hated the place. It was like someone had taken everything dull and dystopian about city life and made an altar to it. That was how he'd describe Manchester.

  Arthur was being biased. He knew that. He didn’t hate the place so much as the people he associated with it, his mother's side of the family. They were as traditional as they come and were much of the reason why his mother had suffered so much when marrying an American man. Arthur wouldn’t give the time of day to such prejudiced people, especially so considering how they’d abandoned him, but it was amusing thinking about how they’d react if he ever brought Iris home.

  A blue alien chick would fry grandma's brain.

  Arthur’s initial impressions of the city held some truth, though. The System's descent had not been kind to the place; many of the buildings on the outskirts were now piles of broken rubble. Nature had claimed the places mankind had failed to defend, and Manchester took the cake for the most post-apocalyptic city he’d seen to date. In the last three minutes, he’d witnessed three robberies and an old man getting lynched by a group of teenagers. The former, he allowed it to happen, but he couldn’t just walk by and let the old man die. Even with stats, a good enough beating could kill you.

  Saving the man wasn’t difficult, but it did take time. That was the one resource Arthur didn't have. Even the scant four minutes he’d spent here could prove to be his undoing. Renewing his stride, Arthur hurried to the city centre. That was where the Agroth family and his ticket to the fallen realm lay.

  With news of his death spreading through the bounty hunter circles, he was a lot safer now. That didn’t mean he'd abandoned caution altogether. The Faceless Mask adorned his face, currently in the guise of a middle-aged man of Russian descent. He stood out from the crowd, but no one would associate the big, scary Russian with the dead pretty-boy Originator. It took him a little under half an hour to finally reach the noble family's house of operations.

  The Agroths were wealthy, and they made it known through their headquarters. It was a massive building made from white marble, more a palace really, and looked completely out of place next to the dull, lifeless grey belonging to the rest of the city. Entering the building was an easy process—there was no security to speak of, visibly at least—and it reminded him of his first foray into the recruitment tents. As large as the building was, it was tiny compared to how truly massive its interior was. The entrance room itself was larger than a football field and filled with hordes of people looking to delve into invasion points.

  A cursory glance through the room revealed a level of power that was honestly surprising. With an average level of 123, the people here surpassed him by quite the margin. When you factored in the most common class grade in the room being Rare, however, Arthur suspected he could have given them all a run for their money all the way back when he was level 50. Still, for the purpose of delving into carefully managed invasion points, such a level of power was more than adequate. Just as he was about to head for one of the many receptionists, Arthur started in place.

  He recognised someone.

  It had been half a decade since he’d last seen them, but there was no way in hell he’d forget such a face. After all, the woman was the spitting image of his mother, only with a more angular face and colder eyes. Aunt Kim Soohyon. Arthur found himself rooted in place. It was a face that was so familiar yet alien. The System had removed her developing wrinkles— she looked much younger—just like Mom would if she were still alive.

  That hit him a lot harder than he expected it to. It had been over a decade since she’d died, he hadn’t cried about it in nearly as long, but the sudden swell of emotion made him feel like he’d be breaking that streak. Steeling himself, Arthur looked away. His family hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, and he was happy to keep it that way. Even if his feelings had changed, getting involved with them now would only put them in danger.

  As much as he might have wanted to hate his family, Arthur couldn’t deny the relief he felt in his heart when he saw his auntie still alive and kicking. I guess The Perfect Homunculus isn’t as vindictive as the human race. Or I’m less jaded than I thought. His family was doing well, thriving even. Kim Soohyon was level 117 with a rare class, and her son, his first cousin, had managed to obtain an elite class. That meant he was in the top percent of humanity, someone strong enough to dictate their own fate in this new world. From what he could remember, Kim Il-hwan had been a decent enough guy. There had been too large an age gap between them for them to click when they were children, but the teenage Il-Hwan hadn’t been a bad guy. Just a little awkward.

  Sighing, Arthur finally made his way over to one of the free receptionists. He was a middle-aged man who looked just a little dazed, as if he wasn't altogether there. His raised eyebrows gave the impression that he was perpetually in shock, and with his nametag identifying him as John Walker, he was about as unassuming as you could be. Arthur didn't let that fool him. For one, Arthur was almost certain the receptionist wasn’t human.

  “What can I help you with, sir?” The receptionist’s voice sounded human enough, but it was also subtly off—nothing that you could put your finger on—but something that would leave you feeling vaguely unsettled.

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  “I’m here to see Edward Agroth. Tell him Aaron White is here to see him.”

  The receptionist’s eyes unfocused for a second, “Our files state that you’re supposed to be a man of English descent. A disguise then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well it’s a damn good one. I couldn’t tell a thing. I’m going to have to request that you provide your aura signature to verify your identity. It’s just standard procedure.”

  Arthur had never given his aura signature before, but it didn’t prove to be difficult. It just boiled down to releasing a steady stream of his aura through his index finger into a magical sensor. He managed to get it right on his first try.

  The receptionist’s eyebrows rose even further in surprise, something Arthur hadn’t thought was possible. He got up from behind his desk and bowed to him. “Right this way, Mr White. It seems Sir Edward thinks very highly of you. Two point seven three seconds. That's the fastest he’s ever reacted to a visitor.”

  John Walker set a brisk pace, leaving the entry hall and taking the stairs to the fourth floor. Surprisingly, there were no elevators in sight. His intelligence was high enough now that he didn’t need to actively focus on the route to memorise it. Arthur remained vigilant, though. While Iris trusted the man, the Agroths were a powerful family. Edward betraying him would be more than a little troubling. Before he knew it, they’d arrived in a luxurious living room, reminiscent of the first place he’d met the man.

  Edward Agroth stood up the second he saw him and bowed. “Oh, Mr White. You have no idea how happy I am to see you alive and kicking.” “Likewise. And you can drop the fake name. I’m sure you’ve realised who I am by now.”

  “Oh, in that case, you can call me Rumplastershin, Mr Ward.”

  “Rumplas—I’m sorry. Do you mind if I just call you Rumple?”

  Edward Agroth stared at him incredulously and then exploded into laughter. “I’m only messing with you. Sadly, I’m not interesting enough to have a fake name. Edward is all I’ve got.”

  Arthur sighed. Why was everyone around him so childish? “I’m guessing you already know why I’m here, then. Has Iris told you?”

  “No, she’s been under too much scrutiny to keep up communications. I don’t need the lady's input to know why you’re here, though. That’s self-explanatory.”

  “You need to lay low for a while and get stronger while you’re at it. Where better to go than a tier 1 fallen world, especially having just joined our Guild of Fringe Walkers? You’ll get paid for doing something you would’ve had to do, anyway.”

  “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds pretty simple. Just one correction, though. I don't need a place to steadily grow. I need to become exponentially more powerful and the only place I can do that is—”

  “Haadran. The world without water,” Edward finished. “I’m not sure if that’s a great idea. Compared to other tier 2 fallen mirror worlds, Haadran is an outlier in terms of how much danger it poses, especially to a water-based life form like yourself. The very laws of the planet are inverted, an antithesis to life itself. More than the monsters you’ll find there, the environment is far more deadly. Extreme temperatures that are backed by powerful concepts. As a tier 2 planet, even though it’s a fallen one, the world possesses a will too, a powerful one bent on the destruction of all things foreign, which only makes things worse for you.”

  “So what… the planet itself will actively try to kill me?”

  "Basically, yes. I know of your special nature, but this is a tall ask for someone who’s only just reached level 104.”

  Arthur smiled. “You're just making the place sound better and better. If I could go to a Tier 3 world right now, I would. This is the next best thing.”

  Edward stared at him dubiously. “Well, the mistress certainly believes you’re capable enough, and I’ve never known her to make a misjudgement. Have you got all the equipment you need?”

  "I was given a water flask that produces a hundred litres of drinkable water a day. Beyond that, I have enough food supplies to last me two months and twelve sets of clothing made specifically for desert terrain. If I need anything else. I’m hoping you can sell it to me or purchase it from the System store on my behalf. Being dead does come with a few complications.”

  Edward smiled at him. “You’ve already prepared better than most. You don’t know how many fools I see who think they can give up food for some reason now that they have magic powers. That being said, you’re messing up one key piece of equipment. An Etherious node.” Reaching into his pocket, he placed a small purple crystal on the table. It looked like an ordinary, albeit rather pretty-looking rock.

  “Since you’re part of the Fringe Walkers now, you’ve gained clearance to a lot of hidden information. Just how much do you know about the System?”

  Arthur contemplated the question, “Not much,” he eventually replied. “Only the true reason why it was created and the name of one of its designers, Sir Rufeus III.”

  “That’s not a name many know. He was erased from history when he fell to corruption. Elves don’t like being reminded of their ancestors' disgrace. For brevity's sake, I’ll only explain this little stone here. The Etherious node is a unique gem that refines the chaos of the fallen realm and its denizens to produce the purest form of ether. It’s the fastest and most efficient way to get the refined energy, and it’s also the primary source of energy the System runs on. The system burns through 6,342 such nodes of energy every second it continues to run.”

  “It’s almost poetic. The System can only exist because of the fallen realm it was created to destroy. That's where people like us come in. An Etherious node left unattended will quickly succumb to corruption. It requires the constant company of a sapient being, and the stabilising factor their souls bring to the surroundings to remain usable. That’s why we can’t just drop a bunch of these in the fallen realm and come back to collect them. We have established a few safe cities where we can farm them, but Fringe Walkers are what allows such cities to exist in the first place.”

  Edward passed the stone to him. “This is a tier 3 Etherious node. Keeping it on you while you delve into the fallen world will allow you to passively gather Etherious, though it’ll take 112 Earth years before it becomes fully saturated. It sells for a hundred million credits, so it's still a profitable business.”

  “And if I hunt monsters.”

  Edward grinned. “I thought you’d never ask. If you can fill that thing up in a month at your level, the Guild of Fringe Walkers will go to war against the universe to keep you alive.”

  “I’ll fight my own wars,” Arthur replied. He’d learned how relying on an organisation turned out when shit hit the fan. The Guild of Originators had hung him out to dry. “I won’t need a month either. I’ll be back in two weeks.”

  Etherious: Originator

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