Chương 5: Chapter 4: A New Kind of Farmer

Once I calmed down from the hysterical laughter, my mind returned to practical matters. I had five stat points, just enough to trade for an Ability Point. After looking through the endless list of spells and skills and seeing all the amazing things magic could do, hope bloomed that I'd find something to bring Sophie back. The last vestiges of my laughter died down, and I dove into the list in earnest. My eyes ran over the screen, scanning line after line.

The endless list kept growing, filling the screen as I scrolled down. After a while, the words blurred together. I looked for even a slim chance to bring her back, or at least reach her. My heart hammered. My fists clenched and unclenched while I skimmed the descriptions as fast as possible, desperate to find something. Anything that might work. With each item, my frustration grew. Every spell and skill category led to a dead end. My shoulders slumped, and hope faded with every line.

Then I reached the Death Magic section and its Necromancy subsection. Just reading the titles made my skin crawl. The words seemed to carry something wrong and sinister, something unnatural, like they didn't belong in the world of the living. It felt like the screen darkened as the letters twisted into something that shouldn't be read. Those were just words and letters, but somehow they affected the surroundings outside the screen. And it wasn't only in my head. Or at least I didn't think so. The room grew darker.

The air heavier. I had a strong sense of foreboding, as if something was warning me away. I felt that this magic might be right for some people, but not for me, and that if I took it or did something with it, it would cut my future. It wasn't the Knowing I got earlier. This was deeper. It came from me. NECROMANCY Channel the arcane arts to wield the power of necromancy and command the forces of death. RAISE UNDEAD Summon skeletal warriors or spectral guardians to serve you.

The number and strength of undead raised depend on your skill level and mana expenditure. Cost: 3 Ability Points. DRAIN LIFE Siphon vitality from living beings to replenish your own health. The potency of this drain increases with mastery level. Cost: 3 Ability Points. RAISE THE DEAD Command the deceased to rise as puppets and do your bidding. The number of risen dead increases with the level of mastery. Cost: 3 Ability Points. MOLD FLESH Use the flesh of the fallen to create creatures based on your needs.

The number of creatures created and controlled increases with mastery. Cost: 3 Ability Points. Mana Cost: Varies based on the complexity and power of the necromantic spell. I let out a shaky breath and leaned back, my body recoiling on instinct. The hope that had burned so brightly a while ago was gone, leaving only an empty hollow in my chest. Silent tears ran down my face as I stared at the screen, my spirit sinking even lower than before I'd discovered the Gate.

I couldn't bring her back, and it felt like losing her all over again. I slumped into the armchair by the window, the leather cold and unyielding. Outside, streetlights cast a weak glow over the cobbled streets, the light pooling in shallow puddles and leaving the shadows between the stones even darker. My coffee sat untouched on the table, long gone cold. Disappointment weighed me down. My mind drifted, grasping for something beyond this painful moment. Should I cross the Gate and leave?

I imagined myself standing on that mountain, right at the edge of the Gate. Wind in my face, alien sky above, and a new world stretching out in front of me. The idea excited me. It scared me too, but the excitement was stronger. This was a chance. A real one. Strange worlds, weird creatures, magic, skills that would've made teenage me lose his mind. Maybe it was time to live and stop drifting through memories like a shadow. After all, it was right before I discovered the Gate that I realized I needed a change.

That need hadn't gone away. If anything, it had only grown stronger. And the Gate, with all the possibilities it offered, was the most significant change of all. Of course, that's when the doubts kicked in. Could I even handle it? What if I stepped through and ended up just as lost as I was here? Lost and alone in a place that made little sense, surrounded by people who looked at me like I didn't belong. Language wouldn't be the problem. I'd know the words.

But everything behind them—the culture, the mentality, the thousand little things that make a person feel a part of something and help them fit in—would be missing. And there'd be no backup. No safety net. Just me, my gear, and whatever spells or skills I could buy from the list. And what if things went wrong? Things always went wrong. Always. I knew that from experience. Next came the guilt. Sophie should've been here.

She would've jumped through the Gate without blinking, dragged me along, calling it an adventure. Talked me into believing it too. The thought of leaving her behind felt like a betrayal. But was I really leaving her behind? Yes, I was leaving her grave behind, no doubt about that. But was that the same as leaving the person? I didn't feel like I was leaving my mom, and her grave was here, too. That's all I have left here. Two graves.

I sat with that for a while, waiting for the pain and emptiness this thought stirred up to fade. Everything holding me here was just two graves. Just that. Two slabs of rock in the ground. The people I loved weren't in them. They were gone. The voices, the smiles, the warmth, everything that made them so dear to me, were gone as well. They weren't here. Not anymore. If I lied to myself and said I was staying for them, all I would really be doing was running laps in a cage made of memories.

Telling myself I was honoring them, when really, I would just be too scared to step into the unknown. That realization left me feeling completely empty. What was even left for me here? My job? That had been taken from me, courtesy of Sophie's father. Friends? Not really. We had a few dinner couples, movie nights, the usual, but they'd always been more her friends than mine. The last time I saw or heard from any of them was at her funeral. I didn't have anyone I could actually lean on. Family wasn't any better.

My mom's parents disowned her when she got pregnant with me, and when she died, they made it clear they didn't want me either. I spent years bouncing between foster homes and then a group home until I was old enough to get by on my own. There was no one to call, no one who'd notice if I vanished. Maybe my lawyer would, but only because of the paperwork. And that was the truth I could no longer pretend away. There was nothing left for me here.

I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, decided to travel through the Gate, and felt something in me let go. I shed a small fraction of the emotional weight. The air tasted cleaner, like I had just exhaled something stagnant that had been suffocating me. I wanted to leave. Not to run away, not because I had no other choice, but because I wanted to see what else was out there. Now it didn't feel like a risk. It felt like a choice, one that was entirely mine. I chose to leave.

I had no idea what was waiting on the other side of the Gate. There was no plan, no safety net. But despite the fear, maybe stepping into the unknown was precisely what I needed. I had to find out what was out there, waiting for me. I pulled up the abilities list. If I were going to travel, understanding different languages was a must. Learning the language and talking without barriers was a solid step forward.

I converted my free stat points to an extra Ability Point, then unlocked Local Adaptation: Spoken Language. One thing settled. That was progress. Curious, I tried converting another five points from my Vitality, hoping for another Ability Point. Nothing. I frowned at the screen, wondering what I'd missed. Maybe because those points were already part of me, and only free points could be converted? It was something to look into later. There was a lot to figure out, and I needed every advantage I could get.

I dove into the Archive, looking for anything helpful. Under World Information, only Earth was currently visible, but there was a General Knowledge section with practical notes and advice, like breadcrumbs left behind by other Travelers. I dove in, reading entry after entry, trying to figure out what it meant to live this kind of life. As I scrolled, I spotted a small icon in the upper-left corner labeled "Tips & Tricks." Hmm, that looks interesting.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The first tip was a game-changer. No, it was downright genius. If I put in the effort to learn a skill the hard way, by actually learning, practicing, training, and building it up through real experience until I got it as a recognized skill in the "Guidance", I could trade it in for an Ability Point. Simple enough. But there was a catch. A big catch. Once I converted it, the skill would be locked.

I would still remember how to do it, whether it was swinging a sword or playing an instrument, but I would lose the ability to level it up. It could improve further through learning or practice, but this would depend purely on my effort. There would be no help from the Guidance through leveling. It had another catch. Once a skill was converted, that was it. No do-overs. No going back and relearning it or buying it as a skill. If I sacrificed something, I had to be damn sure I wouldn't need it later.

It was a one-time deal. Despite the restrictions, I loved the sneakiness. The next tip in that section was even better. I didn't have to leap into the unknown right away. I could stand by the Gate, touch one of the portal stones, and read the world's information before stepping through. That was a relief. No blind jumps into the unknown, but a way to get my bearings first. The person who left the tip got it. I could almost hear them saying, "You're not alone. We've been here, too."

It was exactly what I hadn't known I needed. Maybe I was being overly cautious, but jumping blindly into some unknown world full of god-knows-whats wasn't exactly appealing. This? This was smart. A way to test the waters before diving in. A safety net, in a way. The next thing I found fascinating was the trading advice. It was a masterclass in gaming the multiverse for profit. The idea was simple: buy cheap, mass-produced goods from tech worlds and sell them in low-tech mana worlds for a fortune.

Items like knives, cookware, bright fabrics, and even basic wooden toys. All of it was worth its weight in gold in places where everything was handmade. It worked the other way as well: buy weapons, pottery, woven rugs, leather goods, or carved figurines and sell them in a tech world as traditional handmade treasures for a lot of money. I imagined some wealthy collector paying a small fortune for a hand-forged blade or a simple clay jug picked up from a village market for peanuts.

The thought of flipping worlds for profit made me laugh. Then came the practical stuff. Tips included having transport options for different terrains, packing clothes for all kinds of weather, and planning for the fact that tech wouldn't work in mana worlds. It was like having an experienced Traveler holding my hand and pointing out rookie mistakes before I made them. Sadly, no AI assistant. But this was good too. A significant number of posts covered currency. No surprise there.

Cash didn't transfer between realities, but jewelry did. Rings, chains, pendants, preferably silver or gold. Coins worked too, though the advice was to rough them up a bit, make them look worn, so they'd pass as "foreign" rather than obviously mass-produced. In tech worlds, the trick was to stick to jewelry and sell it at small pawnshops to avoid raising any flags. Over and over, different Travelers repeated the same advice: learn to fight. Apparently, it wasn't optional.

At a minimum, I needed to get good with one melee weapon, one with range, and some basic hand-to-hand combat. They also recommended investing in a defensive spell, a ranged attack, and a healing spell. It was practically a starter pack that kept appearing in the Tips and Tricks section and in some of the regular posts. That got me thinking. I needed Ability Points and had to convert skills to get them. The problem was that I didn't have skills I was willing to part with. Then I got an idea: tennis.

I hadn't picked up a racket in years and doubted interdimensional aliens would be interested in a friendly bout. Seemed like the perfect candidate. After a few calls, I booked a lesson at a local tennis center for two days later. Not exactly the epic training montage I'd imagined after reading the fantasy books, but a point was a point. To "farm" Ability Points, I looked into private courses and workshops that could teach me specific skills.

Of course, I gave myself a well-earned mental pat on the back for using the correct jargon. Making handmade pasta — I would like to learn this for myself; I love cooking. Ceramic workshop — a strong contender. Pencil sketching workshop — one more in the bag. Macramé workshop for jewelry making — I will never need this skill. How to make beer workshop — this I might need on my travels, worth checking out. Painting on vinyl records workshop — one more point. Flower weaving workshop — and another point.

Iron wire sculpture workshop — definitely another point. Lining up all the options was weirdly satisfying. I was planning my interdimensional future, one macramé workshop at a time. A grin spread across my face as I looked over the list. Some skills I might actually use; others I'd never touch again. Still, I made the calls and filled up my schedule for the next week and a half. It gave me a sense of achievement. I was turning my decision into reality, one small step at a time.

On my way to the tennis lesson the next day, I tried the Identify skill on everything I passed: people, signs, anything that caught my eye. The results were, to say the least, underwhelming. Everyone appeared as "unintegrated male" or "unintegrated female." Not exactly groundbreaking. Objects fared little better: "door," "stairs," "street sign." At first I was disappointed, then annoyed, and finally I threw the skill to the back of my mind, never to use again.

My only hope was that the paid skills would work better, not just on paper. Or, well, on a magical screen that only I could see. At least my tennis idea worked out. Fifteen minutes in, I scored my first point against the instructor. As soon as I did, the red light started blinking. You have learned the skill Playing Tennis Immediately, I clicked it with my mind, intending to give it up. Are you sure you want to convert the skill Playing Tennis into an Ability Point? Y/N Yes, please and thank you.

You have 1 new Ability Point Yes! It worked! Bless you, anonymous Traveler. I jumped up and down in excitement, fist-pumping the air, and got some judgmental looks from the instructor. It was probably the first time somebody celebrated scoring a point so vigorously. I felt embarrassed for a moment, but the excitement about the Ability Point soon erased it. In the following days, I attended all the workshops and learned the skills. The Class description wasn't kidding; learning skills was easy.

I kept the pasta, beer, and pencil sketching since I liked them, but converted the rest. With six more Ability Points in the bag, I first purchased the skill One of the Crowd. Thinking about protection, I bought the spells Mana Dart and Mana Shield. Initially, I wanted to get the Fireball spell, but eventually realized that avoiding any potential fire hazards might be prudent. MANA DART This offensive spell conjures a dart of magical energy.

Often used by battle mages and sorcerers, it delivers precise attacks, with the number and potency of darts increasing when the level of the spell rises. Cost: 1 Ability Point. MANA SHIELD This protective spell surrounds the caster with a barrier of magical energy, offering protection that starts weak but strengthens with use. Favored by mages and sorcerers, the shield absorbs incoming damage, allowing the caster to endure more with each level. Cost: 1 Ability Point.

Additionally, I invested another Ability Point in my Storage. Based on everything I read in the Archive and the books, I would need the space. Now, I had 64 cubic meters. A lot of Travelers in the Archive recommended getting a healing spell, so I opened the Healing Magic subsection under Life Magic. That's when I ran into a problem. Most of the spells were grayed out, listed but unavailable for purchase.

My Class was supposed to let me buy anything—at least that's what the description implied—but clearly there were hidden limitations. I wondered what the criteria were for unlocking them, but in the end, it didn't really matter. The options were limited, and I had to work with what I had. Clicking on the locked spells did nothing. To confirm, I checked a few other categories. Some also had restricted spells. In the end, the only spell I could actually buy was Minor Heal.

There were some other options, like Rejuvenate Body, Stamina Boost, Heal Headache, or Lower Fever, but they were too specific and not really workable in my opinion. MINOR HEAL A staple for adventurers. For 50 mana, Minor Heal mends broken bones, cuts, scrapes, and common ailments like colds. It provides quick relief for minor injuries and ailments, but will not heal severe wounds or complex diseases. Its effectiveness improves slightly with each level. Cost: 1 Ability Point. Something in me rebelled.

I paused, staring at the spell description, and all my years of medical training flashed through my mind. The all-nighters, the crammed study sessions, and feeling tired all the time between studies and work. That knowledge was part of me. My white coat wasn't just clothing; it was proof of everything I'd worked for. Using a healing spell would feel like a betrayal of all that, like throwing away years of hardship. And yet, I couldn't argue with the recommendation. It was smart.

No matter how much medical knowledge you have, a broken leg is a broken leg. I thought about the risks medical knowledge couldn't prepare me for. A quick heal would make an enormous difference.

"Mends broken bones, cuts, scrapes, and common ailments like colds." Finally, I sighed and bought it. Yes, my mind rebelled against the idea, and it did feel like I was betraying all the hard work I had put into becoming a doctor. However, being injured and helpless in a strange place sounded even worse.