*ding!* The skill [Detect Poison] has been acquired!

  The bite of honey-slathered sweetroll with a disturbing nutty scent was millimeters from his lips.

  He froze, and carefully set the fork with the chunk of sticky pastry down.

  That was too close.

  If he hadn’t read that book—

  If he hadn’t overheard that conversation—

  If he didn’t have [The Learn] boosting his experience gain—

  Would he have caught it?

  [Calm Down].

  His heart rate settled, and everything snapped into focus.

  Whereas before, there had been too many unknowns, too much uncertainty, and the uncertainty itself had been stressing him out…

  Everything became clear in an instant.

  This came as almost a relief.

  The beauty of training is that training takes over automatically in a high-stakes situation.

  And his cover was effectively blown.

  Not in the sense that they knew Earth’s God had sent him here.

  But a poisoning attempt was a pretty clear indicator it was time to get out immediately.

  And his training with the CIA had been clear:

  Don’t hesitate, don’t delay, don’t try to fix things yourself.

  Disappear, get out, re-establish contact at a later time.

  Re-insertion with a cover story was always easier than a contested extraction, and if an agent was dead…

  Zack’s CIA handler, though they had only ever spoken over the phone, had made it clear that the CIA took the lives of its agents seriously.

  Better to abandon a mission than lose an agent.

  Zack had only what he had come with, plus a few training tunics and a pair of soft leather shoes.

  And the poisoner’s handbook.

  So he put on his underarmor, and then a training tunic, and bundled up the book and his Earth clothing and set out.

  The poisoned sweetroll he left on the desk.

  Disposing of it would be better, but not worth the time.

  He stepped out of his room into the hallway.

  And immediately ran into one of the grey-robed [Priests], peering at him from the shadow of his cowl.

  Zack smiled.

  “Excuse me, do you know where I could find a maid? I’d like to have some laundry done.”

  The [Priest] watched him a moment, expressionless. The man’s face was wrinkled and pale, and his hair was thin and wiry, that which Zack could see. His nose, a large yet narrow mountain on his face, drew the eye, and his lips were thin.

  Slowly, he nodded.

  Zack smiled a little wider. “Thanks! I’m Zack, by the way. May I have the pleasure of your name?”

  The [Priest’s] only reaction was to narrow his eyes slightly, before he turned and walked away.

  Zack returned to his room, and waited.

  Only five or so minutes later, a maid arrived, arms loaded with bedding.

  It was Emma.

  The maid who, the other night, he had caught listening in on his room.

  Zack dropped his mask entirely. He rose, and gestured her closer, bringing his lips to her ear.

  “Emma,” he whispered, “I’m calling in the favor Eleanor said she owes me. I must flee the castle, as discreetly as possible.”

  Her eyes widened, but in this case her professionalism held.

  “Oh dear,” she said aloud, “I’ve brought the wrong size of sheets, these won’t do. Please wait here, sir Zack, while I fetch the right ones.

  The poisoned sweetroll sat on the desk, cooling, and the honey hardened into a shell encapsulating it.

  Another five minutes later, Emma returned.

  “We will clear a path; be patient.” She changed his bedding, swapped out his training tunics for clean ones, and departed.

  Time seemed to drag.

  At any moment Maria could return to check on his body.

  At any moment knights could arrive to capture him.

  But, he had called in his favor, and if this world was anything like the world he was from…

  It was only about twenty minutes later that [Maid] Eleanor opened his door without knocking and leaned in. She jerked her head, beckoning him out silently, and he followed, his belongings regathered. As he stepped out, she handed him a cloth bag, and whispered barely loud enough for him to hear.

  “Listen; do not speak. The path is clear. From the training courtyard, there is a side gate. You will exit from there. Do you have a plan?”

  Zack shook his head silently.

  “Then I will direct you to one of our organization’s subcontractors. Tell him “the waters collect at the lowest point,” and he will grant you shelter until he can send you along to one of our safehouses. Once you exit the castle gate, head straight for the woods and proceed deep enough into the shadows that you can’t be seen. Then turn, put the castle on your right, and head south until the castle is out of sight. Then you can return to the road and follow it to Fortinium. As soon as you enter the city, you will come upon the pleasure district. Pass through and you will come upon the Rose Theater on the other side; they will still be open this late, but do not tarry. Ask to speak to the Director; he is your contact.”

  Zack nodded silently.

  The halls were empty and silently, and they padded softly through to the training courtyard.

  All the armor and training weapons had been put away, and it was empty save the archery practice target, which stood alone.

  At the far end of the courtyard was a gate; one of the castle exits.

  In the event of a siege, this courtyard was a rally point for knights to sally out and attempt a flank attack on forces attacking the front.

  But now, in peace time, the portcullis was kept slightly open.

  Guards patrolled the exterior castle walls, and it was a pain to keep opening and closing it between shifts.

  So the portcullis was kept open just enough for a man to duck under.

  When they arrived, a maid Zack didn’t recognize was already waiting with a tray bearing a steaming pot of tea and several sturdy metal cups.

  “Go,” Eleanor said, and the maid ducked out under the portcullis, deftly carrying the tray.

  Eleanor held up a hand, and after a minute’s wait, they too ducked under.

  Torchlight flickered to the right along the wall; four guards were facing castleward, pouring themselves tea and chatting with the maid.

  “You as well. The forest is yonder. Move swiftly to the treeline and then slowly until you are sure you’re unseen. Remember, castle on your right, head south, go to the Rose Theater. ‘The waters collect at the lowest point.’ The favor is now repaid.”

  “The favor is now repaid,” Zack repeated, and then he took off, [Running]. He kept low, the posture suboptimal, but in less than a minute he had crossed the grounds just outside the castle walls and made it to the treeline. There, he slowed, but continued deeper until he could barely see the lights from the castle walls behind him. He paused a moment to catch his breath.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  No signs of a chase.

  Turning as directed, he walked through woods. The ground was level and there was a lack of underbrush, simply the trunks of trees and dense foliage above shading him from any moon or star light.

  Several minutes of walking through the forest he reached a slope, and the manicured forest of before was put behind him. There was undergrowth now, and branches to navigate. Just before the castle was out of sight, he started to relax, and his mind wandered as he paused to catch his breath, having made his escape.

  He had failed to become part of the [Hero’s Party].

  The [Priestess] had hand-delivered him a poisoned sweetroll.

  The [Guide] had discussed his disposal with someone higher up…

  Most likely, the Pope.

  Possibly the King, but given the factions and the choice of poisoner, most likely the Pope.

  Zack committed to avoiding both factions from now on.

  Behind him the castle itself was a squat, low complex of buildings surrounded by thick stone walls set on a hill. And, on the other side of the castle…

  There was the Grand Cathedral.

  Soaring spires of white stone pierced into the night sky, visible even in the pre-industrial darkness.

  Zack was going in the opposite direction, towards the city below.

  Fortinium.

  He walked further down the slope, keeping to the forest, the better to hide in the deeper shadows though he could see the road running alongside.

  The castle passed out of sight behind him, obscured by the hill’s bulging slope.

  And having got away, Zack Adder had to consider what to do now.

  He had no backup.

  He had no employer.

  He had no resources.

  He did have one connection, though to what organization with what motives, he couldn’t say.

  Oh, and the majority of the [Hero’s Party] and their backers wanted him dead.

  This was… very nearly the worst position he’d ever been in in his life.

  The only worse time had been the day between his parents’ death and his emancipation paperwork going through, when CPS had been trying to stick him in foster care.

  Thoughts of his past filled his mind as his feet moved with [Soft Steps] on their own, carrying him towards the city. It was largely dark, but from the hill he had seen one area that was still lit.

  That was probably where he was headed.

  So where had he gone wrong?

  Before his parents died, there wasn’t anything he could have done.

  Foster care would have been the death of him, as it was so many others in his podunk hometown.

  The Army had only given him one option in terms of occupational specialties.

  He couldn’t have refused his orders to the NSA detachment.

  Zack noticed that he was dwelling again, and forcibly stopped thinking about it.

  The past was the past.

  Learn from it and move on.

  And he had already solved that problem.

  He had gotten out.

  Just like, in fact, he had gotten out of the castle.

  The castle…

  To his surprise, Zack found himself feeling bad about leaving as fast as he had.

  Barclay and Henry… Eleanor and Abigail and Emma and the other maids…

  They were all nice people.

  And Bradley…

  Well, he was the summoned [Hero].

  He’d be alright.

  He was blessed by the Goddess of this world, after all.

  And She answered his prayers, at least.

  Yeah, he’d be fine.

  Zack’s mind continued to wander as his feet carried him out of the forest and onto the road and directly to where he was heading.

  Down dark cobbled streets, past wood and stone buildings with small glass windows and artistic wrought metal signs advertising their shops without the need for written language. A tailor, a baker, a potter…

  Zack arrived in the one part of the city that was still lit.

  A red light district.

  Funny how even in another world they had settled on the same signal for morally-dubious entertainment districts.

  Scantily clad, tired looking women lurked in doorways, and Zack avoided making eye-contact.

  That wasn’t his fight.

  Not tonight.

  No, he was heading towards the crowd of people streaming out of a large building on the very edge of the district, just barely not inside it. The crowd of people chattering about monologues and performances and spectacles and plot holes and gossip about actors and actresses…

  A theater.

  The Rose Theater.

  Seeing the late night performance crowd lingering outside, Zack couldn’t help but let the corners of his lips rise into the smallest nostalgic grin.

  For three and a half years, Zack Adder had been a member of the after-school activity that stayed latest and let him avoid his parents for the absolute longest amount of time, while also asking the least of him in terms of actual participation.

  Zack Adder had been a theater kid.

  And during that time, he had learned a thing or two about how theaters used to work, back in the days when plays in theaters were the most advanced and sophisticated form of entertainment available. They had often been places tied to both organized crime and the wealthy and powerful. A meeting place of sorts.

  As a child, he had bet on the Army when he’d had nowhere else to go.

  And now he had an introduction to some kind of spy organization.

  This wasn’t ideal.

  Ideal would have been fleeing into the wilderness: get away, get across the border, get to another kingdom or country or whatever and start a new life.

  But this world had monsters.

  And Zack was only level one.

  And he had no weapons and no magic.

  That would be suicide.

  So if he couldn’t get as far away as he could, as fast as possible…

  Relying on Eleanor’s organization was the next best thing.

  He was certain there would be a search.

  They would see he didn’t actually eat any of the poisoned sweetroll.

  And he had a unique skill.

  [The Learn].

  They had wanted to control him, before they wanted him dead.

  Not enough information, and not enough power. He had chosen to pursue more information while lacking power, and look where that had gotten him.

  Now he would pursue power.

  [Skills].

  He needed to hide long enough for the searchers to assume he had gotten away and let down their guard.

  Then he could actually flee the Kingdom.

  And if what he had learned all those years ago in theater club…

  Actually, crap.

  It had only been five years ago.

  It felt like a lifetime.

  Technically, it was a lifetime ago…

  Focus.

  Zack stood outside the theater, looking in through the open doors.

  The ushers and the actors, still in their costumes, were starting to shoo lingering attendees out the door so they could close up.

  What he was relying on…

  Was the shady underbelly of professional theaters.

  It had astounded him, and thereby stuck in his mind, how much historical theaters had been connected with organized crime throughout history on Earth.

  And he assumed it was no coincidence that this theater, open this late, was located right on the edge of the red light district.

  The theater’s name was emblazoned above the open doors, flanked by masquerade-style masks.

  The Rose Theater.

  Zack squared his shoulders and walked in.

  Eleanor expected him to use her passphrase and seek shelter with her organization.

  But he didn’t have to do that.

  Eventually, she would make her report, and her organization would come around to see if he’d made it here or not.

  It was just a matter of time, but if he could get the right [Skills] before then, he’d be in a much better position.

  Immediately, he spotted his target. The man still yet surrounded by wealthy-looking patrons and a man and a woman signing autographs, clearly the lead actor and actress of tonight’s performance.

  Their smiles were flawless.

  But the short, rotund, balding man gesticulating wildly was the most important of the three, as the surrounding crowd departed and he turned his attention towards the actress standing head and shoulders above himself.

  “Sandra, that was a fantastic performance tonight! Simply stunning! You had the crowd on the edge of their seats! But Ronaldo—” he turned now to the actor standing several inches taller even than Sandra, “—you let her overshadow you! You need more stage presence! We're working on that tomorrow, mark my words. Now get out of here you lot, party all you like but be back here for rehearsal at noon! Don't be late! Now shoo!"

  Zack took one last deep breath and put on his most winsome smile.

  It paled in comparison to the smiles of the lead actors, but perhaps it was better this way.

  He walked past the departing men and women, and the short man noticed him, glaring much more fiercely than he would have expected.

  “We’re closed! Show’s over! Come back tomorrow night!”

  Zack approached anyway.

  “Are you the director?”

  “Yeah, whadaboutit?

  Zack bowed as elegantly as he could, copying how the knight Henry had introduced himself, with his hand on his chest, and still bowed, he raised his head to look the director in the eye.

  “It’s my dream to be an actor on the stage! I—”

  “No. No, no, no, a thousand times no! Not at your age. What’s your angle here?”

  Patreon!