Chương 16: Chapter 14: New York Is Not a City, It’s a World

New York had no shortage of places to find hidden or not-so-hidden treasures. A quick online search netted me an unbelievable number of pawnshops, over thirty flea markets, and endless thrift stores packed with everything from antique furniture to last season's designer castoffs. My Storage wasn't full yet, but just in case, I expanded it to 512 cubic meters—big enough to hold a city bus with room to spare. Then came the workshops.

Scrolling through listings, I found classes for everything under the moon and stars: podcasting and audio production, urban gardening, event planning and management… The sheer variety was incredible. I signed up for 43 before I stopped myself. There were plenty more, but 50 skill points had a nice ring to it, and I had to draw the line somewhere. Digital Marketing Strategies Financial Planning for Beginners Stand-Up Comedy Workshop DIY Electronics and Robotics Self-Publishing Your Book Astrology and Birth Charts …

and over thirty more, covering everything from virtual reality development to ethical hacking. On my third day in New York, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen, then answered.

"Hello?"

"Is this Dr. John Rue?" The voice was calm but serious.

"Yes, this is Dr. Rue. Who's calling?"

"Good morning. This is Detective Marcus Hanigen with the Chicago PD. Is now a good time to talk? I have a few questions regarding last night." I straightened in my seat.

"How do I know you're really a police officer?"

"My badge number is 3489217. You can call the station to verify. I'll call you back once you've confirmed." There was a short pause.

"No, it's okay," I said finally.

"What did you need to know?"

"Where were you last night?"

"Last night?" I echoed, working to keep my voice steady.

"I was here in New York. What's this about?"

"I'm afraid I can't disclose that right now. Can you give me more details about your whereabouts?"

"I've been in New York for the past three days," I said, rubbing a hand over my face.

"I flew in on Monday. If you need proof, I have my plane ticket and hotel registration."

"Yes, please. Can you share that information with me?" He still sounded all business, but there was a slight shift in his tone, a little less tension than before.

"Sure," I said, already pulling up my email.

"I flew in on American Airlines, flight AA123, and I've been staying at the Midtown Hotel. I checked in right after I landed. Do you need anything else?"

"That should be enough for now. Thank you, Dr. Rue."

"Okay, but can you at least tell me why you're asking?"

"I'm afraid I can't discuss it at this time. We'll be in touch if we need more information. Have a good day." The line clicked, and the call ended. Of course, my in-laws accused me. That they were right this time was beside the point. For two months, I learned new skills while raiding pawnshops, thrift stores, and flea markets. New York turned out to be a playground for my Merchant skills, and I learned to appreciate them. Skills differed from spells.

While spells involved "flexing" my mana to cast them, skills didn't, even though they used mana too, just a lot less. The more accurate way to describe skills would be that I had to "flex" my intention. It was still intuitive, like I had always known how to do it, but using them repeatedly made them sharper in a way. They came in handy one afternoon when I walked into yet another shop. The bell over the door let out a cheerful jingle as I stepped into a pawnshop in Queens.

Dim lighting, scuffed tiles, and a counter lined with fingerprint-smudged glass. Behind it, a wall of cheap guitars and old TVs. I wandered over to the glass case and leaned down to browse. There was a busted gold chain, a pair of diamond studs that I knew immediately were fake, and some junk with tangled price tags. Then I spotted a dull-looking ring near the back. Gold Ring Value: $380 I rapped my knuckles against the glass.

"Mind pulling that one out?" Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. The guy behind the counter, a heavyset dude with thinning hair and a Yankees cap, gave me a quick once-over. He grunted softly, unlocked the case, and reached inside.

"How much?"

"Ninety-five." He pointed at the fake diamond studs.

"I can offer you a good deal on the diamonds."

"No thanks." I slid out a hundred-dollar bill and held it out.

"Keep the five." He looked at the bill, then at me, squinting.

"You a reseller?"

"Something like that." Walking through a flea market with Nose for Business activated, my attention kept snagging on things. First, a stall selling carpets—two of them stood out right away. At another stall, a set of glass bowls with a leaf motif caught my eye. Further down, cast-iron pots and boxed silverware sets caught my eye. Every time the skill kicked in, it tugged me toward high-quality items priced way lower than they should've been. I had to admit; I really liked my Merchant skills.

Hot food went into Storage first, then fighting staves, bows, and arrows packed neatly into plastic buckets. And of course, more coffee. You can never have enough coffee. A thrift store run for resale clothes sparked an idea, and I cleaned out two wholesalers, one for sewing supplies and the other for knitting. Sunglasses, hats, and office supplies followed, along with all the best pawnshop finds. At a medical supplier, I picked up gloves, scalpels, resuscitation bags, and anything else I might need.

Magic was great, but those were the familiar tools of my trade, and I trusted them. And, naturally, I bought a ridiculous amount of bug repellent. With only $20, 000 left, it was time to fly to Europe. I planned to cross from Frankfurt to Shimoor. Gate-hopping to raise my Gate Traveler level no longer felt worth the effort. It would rise on its own as I moved around. At this point, I didn't care. The waiting had dragged on long enough. All I wanted was to leave and finally get started.

After formatting my laptop and canceling my phone plan, I sold both at a pawnshop. As the last step in the US, I withdrew all my funds, converted them to euros, and purchased a ticket to Germany. During the flight, I checked my Storage and immediately felt dizzy from the mess. I knew exactly what I had and where it was, but the massive pile stacked on itself still made me feel like a slob. Wanting to sort it out before crossing over, I found a big empty warehouse in Frankfurt to rent for the day.

After emptying my Storage, I stood there and gawked. Buying a lot was one thing, but seeing it all laid out in front of me really drove home just how much I'd accumulated. Wow. Immediately, I put the food back and started organizing everything logically. Thank God I'd bought extra shelving units from IKEA, along with chests and baskets from the flea markets. I ended up having to rent the warehouse for an additional four days, but it was finally done.

Everything was arranged, and I knew exactly what I had and where it was. The amount of jewelry caught me off guard. Knowing I'd bought a lot and actually seeing it were two very different things. There was a surprising amount of gold and platinum jewelry, some with gems, some without, and an extensive collection of silver pieces, with or without semi-precious stones.

Thinking back, between the life insurance, trust fund, house sale, my savings, the cars, and my in-laws' "gift," I had spent over a million dollars in the past year. Yeah, that explained it, but it still made me wonder if I should be nominated for Hoarders Anonymous. I used the last of my money to buy German lager in wooden barrels, some more interesting foods—cooked and raw—as well as more copper coins from the gaming stores. On my last day on Earth, I wrote a detailed description of Earth in the Archive.

It included geography, the political landscape, and a warning that the US knows about the Gates and has them locked down on army bases. I covered travel methods, money and its complexities, television, how to use the internet, and where to sell jewelry (pawnshops, not official precious metal exchanges). I explained how to find good deals at flea markets and marked every useful store on the Map, along with detailed notes on all the Gates I had visited.

I stressed the importance of understanding local customs and laws, trade regulations, common scams, and tips on how to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Practical advice on blending in came next, including how to dress, what to avoid, and why a world atlas from a bookstore and local maps from gas stations were essential for keeping the Travelers' Map updated. I recommended picking up an abridged encyclopedia that provides general knowledge in a single volume.

The list kept growing, a mix of essentials and useful things to know from the get-go. The following day, I changed into comfortable hiking clothes, checked out of the hotel, verified the taxi fare to the Gate, and spent my last 157 euros at a bakery. That was it. I took care of everything. Time to travel. A taxi dropped me off at the gas station near the Gate, and I walked the rest of the way. I stood in front of the Gate for a few minutes. Two unassuming boulders that led somewhere far beyond Earth. Just stones.

And yet, one step through and everything would change. I had done everything I could to prepare. Stocked supplies, trained skills, and learned as much as possible. But no amount of planning could erase the sparks of uncertainty that kept flaring up. This was it. No more hotels, no more flights, no more pawnshops or workshops. No more Earth. Staying wasn't an option. There was nothing left for me here. And yet, my chest felt tight, a tangle of relief and hesitation.

Not doubt or regret, but the weight of stepping into something unknown, something no one else had done before. Sliding down, I sat on the ground with my back against one anchor. It wasn't exactly hesitation, just an unwillingness to let go of my family, despite both of them being dead. I thought of my mom, as little as I remembered of her. To my surprise, I remembered more than before. Her face was sharp in my memory now, not the washed-out, faded picture I used to have.

Her smile, how she used to punch my arm and call me "champ," her expression when I came back with dirty or torn clothes, and the negotiations we used to have about dessert. The memories made me smile and feel lighter. As long as I remembered, I wasn't leaving her behind, but taking her with me. Next, I thought of Sophie and the years we had together. My grief was better now, less suffocating. Between the effects of the mana and the year and a half that had passed since her death, it was easier to deal with.

But it still hurt. I still missed her so much.

"I hope you're not pissed over what I did to your parents," I said.

"In my defense, they deserved it and much more." A soft breeze caressed my face.

"Yeah, I love you too, baby, and still miss you every day." It was time to get up and go. Heaving a deep sigh, I got back up and looked back one last time. Although all I could see were bushes, trees, and glimpses of the highway, I thought of everything this world represented—and let go. A persistent feeling nagged at me, an irritating itch in the back of my mind that I had forgotten something. But what? I ran through everything again: the Storage, the preparations, the Archive.

No matter how much I thought about it, nothing came to mind. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been important. I exhaled slowly, steadied myself, and stepped forward through the Gate.