Today's Earth date: January 3, 1991

From what we're told, the Cuts used to be an ocean, so the dwarves built an enormous Lighthouse. Today, the ocean is gone, but the Lighthouse is still there.

Rathain wants to see the top. It feels corny, but I do too. The view has to be incredible.

I've been in a few lighthouses on Earth, but an east coast lighthouse is nothing compared to this one. It's unbelievably tall. I don't know if this makes sense, but it's what I would picture the Dark Tower looking like in The Gunslinger.

Our squires know of a guide they like who can take us up.

-The Journal of Laszlo the Paladin

"Saw this on my way back," Margo said, setting a poster on the table in front of Wayne. He looked at it by the light of the setting sun.

Wayne sat outside the Blackwell house at one of the garden picnic areas eating a dark red pasta that Sammy and Vanilli insisted he try. It had the faintest hint of pepper flakes and tasted similarly to red curry on Earth, but not as sweet.

As for the poster, it pictured a man with his back turned to the viewer, a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. The man looked up at the posters' focal point: a three-headed monster that loomed over the tiny challenger, looking down with apparent glee at its next meal.

The text read:

The Zero Hero vs. Three Deaths

Will this be the fight Three Deaths falls, or will he be the first monster to conquer champions from two worlds?

"That was quick," Wayne said, thinking that Sanders must have had the posters made up the minute Wayne left his office for the first time. According to Margo, they were everywhere in the city.

"Targitaus is one of four monster dealers with businesses in Iomallach," she reported. "He's likely the largest but has a close competitor. I didn't see him do anything particularly interesting. He shopped and ate and drank. That's it."

"It was worth a try," Wayne said, still looking at the poster.

"I did find out where his ranch is, though."

Wayne perked up. "Really?"

"I talked to Hector already. We're both going to ride out tonight to see what we can learn."

"That's pretty above and beyond," Wayne said. "You're technically not on the clock right now."

"If we leave tonight, we can be back in time for the match. Three days should give us plenty of breathing room for that."

"You don't have to."

"We want to."

Wayne considered Margo for a moment. "Okay, but be careful. You and Hector are more important to me than any piece of intel, so don't do anything that puts your safety at risk."

"I'll be home by curfew, father."

"Har har, but seriously. I'll leave Voice open. Ping me if something goes wrong."

Margo nodded and departed, leaving Wayne alone in the gardens again. He looked out over the fog rising from the Cuts and then up to where the Lighthouse touched the clouds. Then he returned his attention to the poster.

Three Deaths was big. Sure, it was just an illustration, but he knew it wasn't much of an exaggeration–if it was an exaggeration at all.

Was he really doing this?

He wasn't a performer on Earth. The biggest audience he ever had was when he gave a webinar to 78 viewers. He couldn't see any of them–only the number in the lower corner of his screen–but that didn't matter. Just knowing that many people had his video playing in a tab somewhere was enough to amplify the pressure.

And sports? He kind of played soccer for a few years. No playoffs. No championships. Not even any big rivals. At no point was he scrutinized by a large crowd there either. Chicks didn't really dig soccer players, and his parents didn't come to games. The stands were mostly a few of the same parents slyly passing "water" bottles between each other.

A strange thought occurred to him: Arena arcs were common in RPGs, and those crowds never bothered him, so why should this be different?

That was the first time he thought of this world as though it was nothing but a video game. Not similar to, as if it truly was. Like Horcus. And like Horcus said in the journals, thinking that way was easier. So much easier.

Real life or no, he had three days to prepare. Thanks to the system, he was already in shape. He could eat relatively clean for the next few meals as well, though since getting a younger body, he found it much easier to eat whatever he felt like with no repercussions.

That was very much not the case for the Wayne in his forties.

The only real preparation he could think of was to make sure his gear was in good condition and then grind as much as possible. Even one level-up could make the difference.

Grinding it was then.

When Wayne entered the house to change, Billium's two daughters were about to step out the front door. They wore short, thin sundresses, cowboy hats, and cowboy boots. To Wayne's relief, they didn't stop for conversation. They waved and jumped into a carriage to go to town.

"Delivery came for you," Vanilli said moments later, standing in the doorway of Wayne's shared room.

The uncanny valley feeling made it hard for Wayne to look Vanilli in the eye for long. The feeling itself wasn't unbearable, but thinking about Sheeri was still a complicated topic, even within his own mind.

As if the very thought of Sheeri warped reality, Wayne recognized the handwriting on the envelope. He opened it, releasing a gentle cloud of the art dealer's perfume. It read:

Wayne,

Thank you for the gift. I've been thinking of you too.

-Sheeri

And that was it. "Can I ask you a weird question, Vanilli?"

"Yes."

"Is romantic love a thing for demons?" When Vanilli hesitated to answer, Wayne winced. "That was an asshole question to ask. I'm sorry."

"It was not. Demons can experience love. Survival in our homeworld often punishes those who pursue it, though. Is that letter from your demon acquaintance?"

"Yes, and you can tell me to fuck off on this, but were you ever in love?"

Vanilli stared at Wayne for a long time. "I have wanted to be."

With a soft smile, Wayne nodded and said, "That's kind of the same thing to be honest."

"Are you departing? Can I do anything to be of help?"

"I'm just going to work out for a bit, but thank you for offering," Wayne said. "What do you think of Iomallach so far?"

Wayne considered whether he should use leather or plate for the match while Vanilli answered. "Armond says other cities are very different. Is that really the case?"

"From what I've seen, yeah. I'd agree with that."

"I am enjoying the exploration, but I doubt I would choose to spend 900 years here. I do like the music, though."

"That's fair. Cuan, the city closer to the Water Temple, is a lot more artsy. I don't know what our next stops will be like, but there's another port city in our future. I have a feeling you'll like it."

"Because it is near water?" Vanilli asked, seriously.

Wayne laughed. "Yes. Port cities like Bata attract a lot of trade, so there are a bunch of different cultures coming and going at any given time. More variety, in other words."

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"I see."

"I'd also bet Iomallach is a lot different after the festival when the visitors all head home."

"What will happen if you die?"

The hard pivot in tone disrupted Wayne's thoughts for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"In the arena."

"No, I figured that part out. I meant in what regard?"

"What will happen to my employment and the party if you die?"

"Fergus will pay out the contracts, but I doubt the party stays together after that. There's a good chance they lose system access if I die, so there's even less of an incentive for the party to continue on. You won't be alone, though. You know that, right?"

"If the party separates, I will be alone."

"The friendships won't automatically end, and everyone knows that you're new to all this. I can say for certain that Fergus would be happy to show you life in the Capital. He did the same for me when I was new here."

Vanilli nodded. "I would prefer you didn't die."

"Same."

Wayne was up before anyone else in the house, so he departed under darkness, the sun rising at his back as he ventured farther and farther from town.

Grinding in the Cuts didn't seem like an efficient option. The density of the canopy made it inconvenient for him to cover long distances with Blitz, so he decided to head toward the Lighthouse. He wanted to see the area regardless, and it was away from civilization. If he didn't find any monsters, at least he could enjoy the view.

Along the way, he thought through the upcoming arena fight.

Mark of Fire made the fire breath of Three Deaths a non-issue. No one but his party knew that he had the immunity, and that would definitely be useful. The poison-spitting goat head and Three Death's ability to regenerate were his larger concerns. He and Fergus had already talked about smuggling a few Cure Poison potions into the arena. That was against the rules, but Wayne didn't give a shit if it meant not dying. Having other solutions for the poison wouldn't hurt, though.

And regeneration: that was a tricky one. Old school hydras regenerated when their heads were cut off, and burning the stump was the answer in those stories. Other types of regeneration, though? Obliterating the target was the only other solution he could think of, but that only worked with basic regeneration.

The Deadpool and Wolverine varieties of the ability made them virtually unkillable. If Three Deaths was that lucky, the best Wayne could do was Dynamite the ground until the arena collapsed and end the match that way–or escape it. Either outcome was fine because he lived in both cases.

Grinding for better stats would be helpful, but knowing what he did about Three Deaths, what games had the best chance of providing something useful? He couldn't guarantee he'd get any unlocks at all, but he knew using an ability made it more likely to earn another from the same game.

Railroad Tycoon gave useful abilities, but none of them were combat oriented thus far. Spellcasting 101 was too much of a gamble. He hadn't tested the Emverdoo Display setting yet, but summoning an organizational chart didn't sound promising. After Burner II was all Skycat upgrades, which seemed unlikely to be useful in an arena. Super Monaco GP gave speed and movement upgrades. LHX Chopper gave him Altimeter. And Wolfpack gave him Periscope, a skill he had used exactly once, which was when he tested it in the Water Temple to spy on the empty floor above him. He hadn't needed it since. Buck Rogers? He hadn't used Jury Rig. Ever. He didn't know how.

Chessmaster 2100 hadn't revealed a trend in ability types, and Centurion unlocks seemed to be leadership focused.

That left Cyberball, ESWAT, Phantasy Star II, Pat Riley Basketball, It Came from the Desert, Golden Axe, and Tunnels & Trolls.

He scratched It Came from the Desert off of the list. Dynamite was an amazing spell, but he also unlocked Wheelchairs from that game. +1 to Agility was helpful, but not groundbreaking. With a game as weird as that one, the risk of unlocking something useless seemed too high.

Phantasy Star II could be useful, but he only recently unlocked the Maruera Gum ability, which he knew worked after a dip in the Blackwell pool. Could he really use Phantasy Star II spells enough to get his sixth and final before the match?

Of all those choices, Golden Axe and Tunnels & Trolls seemed like the best games to grind. The chance of a new bad ass spell from either was worth rolling the dice for.

Hopefully he didn't get another Dum Dum-esque unlock.

Hopefully.

On the way to the Lighthouse, Wayne fought fifteen goblins, five orcs, five wargs, and twenty one ratmen. Generic ratmen–no modified varieties, at least none that were visible during daylight.

He didn't gain a level, and he didn't unlock new skills.

Wayne did, however, learn what summoning an organizational chart meant. When he activated Emverdoo in his Display settings, every monster within his line of sight populated the side of his HUD with health bars. If he mentally focused on any one health bar, he instinctively knew which enemy it belonged to.

That was far more useful than he expected and would certainly come in handy during big battles like his recent zombie wereshark dungeon excursion.

Firenze V12 allowed Wayne to run faster, another new insight gleaned from experimenting in battle. That sort of speed felt superfluous because of his access to Blitz, but traveling the roads in the Cuts was best done on foot. With the ability to run much faster, he might be able to start grinding in the jungle, after all.

With his mind on training, Wayne traveled farther than he intended. The sun was going down when he realized he was well-past the Lighthouse, so he Blitzed back. When he had gone by the tower the first time, he saw what looked like a small town built at its base. He decided to stop there for the night instead of heading all the way back to Iomallach. It turned out to be more of a tourist trap than a town, but that was fine.

The guidebooks recommended hiring one of the guides who lived at the bottom if you wanted to venture into the Lighthouse. A hike to the top took three days, one way. The structure was large, and more than a few people had gotten lost over the years. Many of them died of dehydration.

In addition to being a place to hire a guide, the mini-settlement also had an inn, a tavern, and a general store that was more or less just a gift shop.

The inn had ten rooms and was well-weathered. The front desk doubled as the bar, and the wood was scuffed, battered, and pocked with rings from decades of cold, wet mugs. The tables and chairs were similarly worn, but the inn was clean and had big windows.

"Don't get many solo travelers," a short, tired man with a shiny bald spot said when he saw Wayne. He appeared to have been sleeping when Wayne first came in. "Need a room?"

"Yes, please."

"I can also recommend a guide for your trip up, if you'd like."

Wayne counted out the appropriate amount of silver for the room. "I'm just passing through, but thank you."

"No problem. Kitchen's closed, but I'd be happy to get you some bread and cheese."

"That sounds great."

The man drummed on the bar and said, "I'll grab it for you now."

While Wayne waited for his room key and his food, he turned around to find a poster tacked to the door, advertising Zero Hero vs Three Deaths.

He didn't need the reminder.

A little more than two hours later, Wayne was fully rested. He left his key at the front desk and resumed his quest to level up. When he felt the night air and looked at the tower under starlight, he paused. He remembered his party's discussions of simple pleasures. Instead of diving back into grinding, he walked to the base of the Lighthouse.

A single "guard" manned a small booth on the path up the entrance. He was asleep, so Wayne left him that way.

Gently closing the doors behind him, Wayne spammed Rise to rapidly ascend the tower.

For the first time in a long while, he had to pause around floor 30 to let his mana regenerate, so he used the time to wander through the halls. Like the books said, the layout was positively labyrinthian, more so than the Water Temple. Apparently, bandits used to take up residence on the upper floors to prey upon sightseers. That changed when Iomallach established the tourist town that was there now.

The 50th floor had an open-air walkway wrapping the perimeter of the Lighthouse, bordering a colossal crystalline structure that Wayne guessed generated the nighttime beacon. Or was supposed to when the Cuts were nothing but ocean. The light hadn't worked in some time.

On a whim, Wayne cast Rise once more. He sat on the steep roof on the eastern side of the Lighthouse and watched the sunrise.

He could see as far south as Vientuls and as far north as the edge of a desert. When sunlight reached the tops of the Cuts, the exposed coral glinted and shimmered as if they glowed amongst the dark, dense foliage. A short time later, the change in temperature shrouded the Cuts in mist. Rain clouds seemed to be gathering as well.

Wayne laughed to himself. He escaped into games so often as a kid that he had hoped with serious earnestness that being isekaied was a real possibility. He always felt silly and ashamed of those thoughts because of how immature they seemed.

And now he was here, enjoying a quiet moment in the lead up to an arena duel with a three-headed monster.

When the sun was beyond the mountains, he jumped from the roof to seek out more experience points. He wanted to be cool enough to only Brake once on his way down, but terminal velocity was still panic-inducing despite his newfound comfort with heights. In seconds, and with a few Brakes, he Blitzed across the wilderness north of the lighthouse.

He happened upon a batch of ettins, seven of them, and then found a band of nine orcs and nine wargs. That tipped Wayne over the edge to level 18 and unlocked a new spell from Tunnels & Trolls:

Slyway Robber – Enables the caster to drain attribute points from a victim and add those points direct to his own attribute. Last one to six normal rounds.

As a kid, Wayne ignored debuff spells and abilities completely, seeing more utility in raw damage-dealing, but age and actual combat experience taught him that debuffs were often the most useful.

He played with Strength and Dexterity drains enough to know that he liked both. Either hobbled the enemy, and adding those stats to his own further pushed his advantage.

The drawback was that it used an enormous amount of mana. Draining twenty stat points made him feel the same as hitting floor 30 in the Lighthouse. With so much of his build reliant on mana, he needed to be careful about emptying his gas tank completely.

But he was happy with the unlock, and he was happy with his new stats:

Hero: Wayne the Guy

Level: 18

HP: 272/272

STR: 35

AGI: 26

VIT: 19

LCK: 32

That jump in hitpoints was larger than usual, and he was grateful for the timing. More hitpoints ahead of a boss fight was always good.

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