We split from Rabban and Sonak near Outpost Eight. It had a city nearby, but Mahya had already visited it, so she wanted a different one. After checking the Map and a brief consultation, we agreed to head to the train station near Outpost Fourteen and then take a train to the domain capital of the Demesne of House Jook.

Why Jook?

Because when we conjured IDs, they stated that we were under the protection of House Jook, probably because of the first outpost we visited. The IDs resembled a passport, but without the pages, only the covers. One side had our picture, and the other showed name, class, and house affiliation. That part was new, but I was traveling to experience new things. So I figured I was officially part of House Jook, whether they liked it or not.

The way there turned out to be “exciting.”

When we headed toward the Gate, we wanted to talk with Rabban, so we went invisible and chatted along the way. With a long distance still ahead of us, we switched to bikes and the ATV, which, of course, drew the attention of the local monsters, beasts, and all the other nasties.

It was a crazy ride. Monsters came at us from all directions—left, right, and from above. Mostly, we just outran them. Long reptile-looking things with too many teeth rushed us from the brush. A black-scaled brute crashed through the trees, fast for its size. And that was only some of what showed up along the way. Some black birds tried to swoop down on Mahya and Al, but I fried them with lightning without slowing down.

We drove as fast as possible, the bikes and the ATV eating up the distance. At one point, the trail dipped into a stretch of towering trees, with trunks so wide that five people would be needed to surround them. We had to weave between them at full speed. Something huge crashed after us, its claws raking bark and its weight shaking the ground. I couldn’t make out the details, with all my attention on the trees and not crashing, but it was brown, big, covered in fur, and armed with long claws. We zigzagged between the trunks, the monster smashing into them as it tried to keep up, but it finally gave up with an angry bellow as we pulled away.

The ground rose into a wide hill, and we didn’t slow down. At the top, the wheels left the ground, and for a second, we were airborne. All of us shouted. Rue let out a long howl, followed by loud barks. When the ATV landed with a bounce, he yelled in my head, “Again, John! Again!”

Mahya laughed the entire way down. Al stayed stiff, but I caught the way his eyes lit up. He was enjoying himself, even if he tried not to show it. A few times, we had to fight. Quick bursts of lightning, crossbow bolts, and bullets cleared the way before we kept moving.

By the time Outpost Fourteen came into view, we were laughing our heads off, including Al. Yes, it was dangerous, but it was also a lot of fun. Rue’s tail whipped like crazy as he howled, barked, and shouted, “Zoom! More zoom!”

We drove around the outpost to the train station and stored the bikes a couple of kilometers away. They were too different to risk showing up with them. As we got closer to the station, I felt three Travelers. A few hundred meters later, Mahya’s shoulders went tight, and not long after that, Al’s head tilted slightly as he picked up on them too.

“You think they’re the same ones you felt in the zone?” I glanced at Mahya as we walked.

“Probably.”

We didn’t change our pace, but the Travelers started pulling away.

“They’re running again.” Mahya’s lips pressed thin as she quickened her steps.

Al lifted a hand in confusion. “I do not understand why. We do not intend them any harm.”

Mahya shrugged, then flicked her hand in the direction they’d gone. “Who knows? Let’s follow them.”

We pushed harder, the feeling leading us straight on. Soon we were jogging, then running, trying to close the gap. After a few minutes, their backs came into view. One large figure and two smaller ones. All of them had long black hair and green hands, the only things showing from beneath their clothes.

“Hey!” Mahya cupped her hands around her mouth. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just want to talk!”

The biggest one hesitated, slowing for half a heartbeat, but one of the smaller figures barked something sharp, and they all picked up speed again.

Curiosity got the better of me. I shot into the air and flew toward them, cutting ahead. The moment their faces came into view, I froze midair. The leader was a massive male, broad-chested with a heavy jaw and tusks jutting past his lower lip. Behind him, two females sprinted, both towering above the height of any human I’d met, their green skin slick with sweat and black hair streaming behind them. Their features were rough, with broad noses and big eyes, and their tusks curled upward as they bared their teeth at me. Then, without breaking stride, they turned back and kept running.

Some people were staring up at me with open mouths.

Flying isn’t common here?

I dropped back down to the gang, and Mahya punched my shoulder hard enough to sting. Her eyes narrowed. “Nice work keeping it low-key,” she said, sarcasm heavy in her tone.

I waved her off and tried to ignore the stares following me from every direction. “Those Travelers are Shreks!”

Al tilted his head, eyebrows drawn together, his face practically a question mark.

“Green with tusks?” Mahya asked.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Orcanis. No wonder they ran off.” She folded her arms and watched their receding backs.

Now it was my turn to frown at her the way Al had at me.

Mahya giggled.

“Why would they run off?” I asked, still confused.

“Stupid Travelers and their prejudice.” She rolled her eyes and let out a quick breath through her nose.

“I do not know what you are referring to. There are mentions of the Orcanis race in my family’s archive, but no mention of Orcanis Travelers, prejudice, or anything similar,” Al said.

Mahya shook her head. “They’re rare. I’ve never met any myself, but my dad told me that some Travelers have problems with Orcanis. They refuse to view them as human and attack them.”

“Stupid, narrow-minded people,” I said.

“Indeed,” Al said.

Mahya nodded.

People were still staring at me, so we picked up the pace toward the train station. I didn’t like feeling like a monkey in a zoo.

The station was massive, crowded, and loud, with hundreds of people arriving and leaving all the time. The sound was a mix of shouting, boots on stone, steam hissing, and the grind of machinery. Guards were everywhere, at the entrances, along the platforms, and moving in groups through the crowd. They moved with purpose, always watching, and it was clear the place was under tight control.

Most of the people looked like Eliminators, armed with melee weapons or those strange wand-rifle contraptions. The rest wore the colors of different houses. I already knew three uniforms from the outposts and recognized two of them here, House Jook from Outpost Ten and House Salit from Outpost Three. I didn’t see any from House Pelmen, which was fine by me. On top of those two, I spotted at least another ten, all busy unloading crates from trains with plenty of shouting and the occasional curse.

The trains themselves were similar to those on Earth, but not quite the same. The cars were longer and broader, with heavy siding reinforced by plates. Thick pipes ran along the tops and underneath, venting bursts of steam. The wheels were broad, built for weight, and the engines up front were at least twice the size, with vents along the sides and a line of chimneys on top that released clouds of steam nonstop. With all this steam, I felt like we’d stepped into a sauna. It drifted upward, but there was so much of it that it was hard to breathe. The smell of hot iron, oil, and coal smoke filled the air, and the entire station was a noisy, chaotic scene, with trains constantly coming and going.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

At least this world wasn’t allergic to signs. We followed the aforementioned signs to buy tickets, which Mahya handled. It wasn’t cheap. The trip to the domain capital took two days in a sleeping cabin and cost five mithril each. Judging by the distance on the Map, these trains were a lot slower than the ones in Tatob.

Inside the train was a letdown. Once I saw the steam, I didn’t expect enchanted speed or expanded dungeon dimensions inside, but they were basic even by Earth’s standards. The corridors were narrow, the metal floors clanged with every step, and the air was hot and damp from the constant hiss of steam.

The sleeping cabin wasn’t much better. Four bunks bolted to the walls, two on each side, the upper ones almost grazing the ceiling, a small table squeezed under the window on the far wall, and a tiny room held a seat with a hole as a toilet, without even a faucet to wash our hands. The door we came in from took up most of the opposite wall. There was barely enough room to move, and every shift made the metal groan. At least the door locked from the inside, there were shutters on the window we could close, and a “do not disturb” sign we could hang on the door.

I pulled out my core and turned it over in my hands, thinking.

Mahya leaned against the door, arms crossed. “What’s the holdup?”

“If I open my house, won’t the mana clash with the train’s power or drive, or whatever?” I glanced at her, still unsure.

She tilted her head, one eyebrow lifting. “Why should it?”

“I don’t know,” I said, rubbing the edge of the core with my thumb. “Because it’s tech.”

Mahya pushed off the door and gestured toward the window where steam hissed past. “It’s not tech. Yes, it runs on steam, but I’m sure magic’s involved somewhere. Don’t worry. If it works in a mana world, the core shouldn’t disrupt it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

The only wall I could open my house against was the one with the door. I did it with a slight twinge of uncertainty, unsure of what would happen, but everything turned out fine. The door materialized, the house inside was as always, and when I stepped back into the cabin, everything looked normal. I let out a relieved breath.

We spent the two days at home, mostly playing cards and snacking. I wanted to look at the view and enjoy the new world, but it was impossible. The train clanged too loudly, and steam clouds covered most of what I could see out the window. On top of that, the cabin was hot and humid, to the point of being unbearable. And they charged fifteen mithril for this atrocity.

Al occasionally went to check on his greenhouse and came back with good news. One of the cacao seeds had germinated, and a tiny green shoot was poking up through the soil. That lifted my spirits, and I forgot all about the train letdown. Good news was always welcome.

The domain capital, Jookmaris, was also a disappointment. The train station was even bigger and more crowded than the last one, set at the outskirts of the city, with clunky, loud buses shuttling passengers to the main hub in the center. They also ran on steam instead of cores, and by the time we reached the center, my clothes were soaked through with sweat. It seemed like anything tied to fighting—whether against monsters or between nobles—was advanced and heavily invested in, while everything else was left behind.

The city itself looked like someone had built it with a ruler and a gray palette. Houses were square boxes, stacked side by side with no variation, and the streets cut straight lines in a perfect grid. There wasn’t a single curve or flourish, just harsh order. No trees, no gardens, no splash of green anywhere. Not a park, not a courtyard, not even the occasional tree planted along the roads. Just endless stone, smoke, steam, and gray.

We asked around for the best hotel in the city, but it didn’t go the way we hoped. The place was tall and polished, with wide steps leading to glass-paneled doors and liveried staff opening them for guests.

Inside, a receptionist in a crisp white uniform greeted us with a polite smile. “Good evening. Do you have a reservation?”

“No,” I said, setting my hand on the counter. “But we’ll need three rooms for a couple of nights.”

Her polite smile wavered while she studied our IDs, her eyes stuck on the crest of House Jook. “I’m sorry, sir. This establishment is reserved for nobles and their families.”

Mahya leaned an elbow on the counter, eyebrows raised. “And what exactly are we? We’re under the protection of House Jook.”

“Yes, I can see that,” the receptionist said, her tone still pleasant but firm. “Protected by a house is not the same as being of noble blood. I’m afraid I can’t offer you accommodations here.”

Al’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That seems most unreasonable.”

The receptionist dipped her head in a small bow. “Rules of the house, sir. I do apologize. However…” She slid a small card across the counter. “There is a fine establishment three streets over that would suit you well. Comfortable, clean, and well within the standards for guests of your station.”

Mahya sighed and pushed off the counter. “So basically, not good enough for the shiny palace, but not the gutter either.”

The receptionist only smiled again, as if she hadn’t heard.

I pocketed the card. “Thanks,” I said, because at least she hadn’t been rude about it.

The new place wasn’t as nice, but it wasn’t terrible either. The lobby was plain, with scuffed floors and faded curtains, but it was clean and didn’t smell of mold or smoke. The rooms were small, each with a twin bed pushed against the wall, a narrow wardrobe, and a single lantern mounted by the door. The bathroom was as basic as it got, just a toilet and a metal tub, but at least the water ran when I turned the tap. That alone felt like a luxury. Running water in mana worlds was never something to take for granted.

We toured the city for two days, but didn’t see anything particularly interesting, except for the church. It was the only bright thing in the whole bleak place. The building rose like a jewel among gray stone and smoke, its walls gleaming white and carved with vines, flowers, and animals. Wide arches opened into a hall big enough for a small town, and every corner overflowed with life. The air was heavy with the smell of incense, dozens of sticks burning in clay bowls as people pushed forward to light their own. The crowd was thick, shoulder to shoulder, with voices blending into a low hum of prayers and chants.

Ceremonies filled the space. At one end, a young couple knelt before a priestess, hands joined, as their families cheered. At another, musicians played pipes and drums for a wedding procession, with kids scattering petals underfoot. Nobles in bright silks and embroidered cloaks dominated the center aisle, their wealth on display as they celebrated yet another marriage.

We stopped with the rest of the spectators when the latest bride entered. She wore layers of green and gold that shimmered in the lamplight, her face veiled. At the altar, her groom waited, an older man with a belly straining his embroidered coat and sweat gleaming on his bald head.

A line of six women stood behind him, each in bright silks. Two clapped and smiled as if they were part of the celebration, while the others stayed stiff, their faces tight and joyless.

“Seventh,” a man muttered behind me, his voice low.

“Seventh?” a woman gasped, leaning closer to him. “Poor women.”

I glanced back out of the corner of my eye. The pair were middle-aged, dressed like farmers, whispering behind their hands as they watched.

“Not all of them look poor,” another man said with a snort, arms crossed. “Two of them are grinning like they just got handed a chest of gold.”

“Probably from humble families,” a thin woman behind him added.

I shifted my gaze to the line of women again. He wasn’t wrong. Two looked pleased enough, clapping along with the music, but the others seemed carved from stone, their eyes downcast. The two happy ones wore so much jewelry they looked like BA from the A-Team television show I watched as a kid. The gloomy ones were more reserved regarding their adornments.

“Look at the rest,” the first man said, shaking his head. “Grim as a gallows line.”

A young woman in front of us turned, her braid swinging over her shoulder. “Wouldn’t blame them. Six wives already, and now a seventh? Man’s got no shame.”

“Or too much money,” the man with crossed arms added.

“Or both,” the farmer woman said with a sharp laugh.

I watched the bride step forward to take her place, the crowd cheering while the line of wives stood behind their husband like a wall. Two smiled, four looked grim, and the bride seemed undecided. The whole thing felt less like a wedding and more like theater, half joy and half tension, and everyone in the hall knew it.

We stayed long enough to see the vows exchanged, the crowd erupting in cheers as the priestess raised her hands. The wives stepped forward to greet the new addition, some offering kisses and warm embraces, others giving only stiff nods. The whole scene left me uncomfortable, with a weight in my chest, and a bit sad for the new wife.

In the late afternoon of our second day, we walked past a bookshop with a display that made me stop. The window displayed the same kind of romance books we’d taken from the healer: cheap paperbacks with gaudy gold titles, featuring half-dressed men showcasing impossible muscles, women swooning in awkward embraces, and painted sunsets glowing in the background. A wooden sign above the door announced that the shop sold both new and used books.

“We should sell the healer’s books there,” I said, pointing at the display.

“Go ahead,” Mahya said with a shrug. “You’re the merchant.”

So I did. Inside, the place smelled of ink and old paper, the shelves stuffed full and stacked higher than my head. The shopkeeper looked pleased as soon as I mentioned how many volumes I had. In the end, I sold all of them and got an okay price, seventy gold for more than two hundred books. Not amazing, but not terrible either.

The moment the money touched my hand, the red light blinked in the corner of my vision. I was sure it was another level in Merchant. I was wrong. So very, very wrong. And to make things worse, I felt a little insulted.

You have taken possession of large quantities of goods through retribution and punishment, and profited greatly by selling them.

New Profession Unlocked: [Pilferer]

Would you like to take Pilferer as your Sub-Profession?

Note: Selecting this Sub-Profession will grant you access to unique skills and opportunities in acquisition and resale beyond traditional trade channels.

Cost: 3 Ability Points.

Y/N

I looked up at the sky. “Hey! That’s not fair! You make me sound like a thief!”

Mahya covered her face with one hand and shook her head.

Al frowned at me, puzzled. “What is the matter?”

“Look!” I said, channeling mana into my system notice to make it visible.

Both of them burst out laughing.

With their laughter came something else—a light sensation, like a giggle. It was faint and distant, as if it traveled through thick fog, but it was unmistakable. The system was laughing its ass off at me.

I almost shouted back in protest, but stopped myself. Not because of the spectators. No. Despite all my bitching and complaining, it was good to feel the connection again, faint as it was.

I groaned, then covered my face and shook my head the same way Mahya had, ignoring the strange looks from passersby.