I won.
She, meanwhile, was bleeding out. Shards of metal from her broken armor pierced her skin like nails through paper. I remembered her—the girl who challenged me right before a dungeon run years back. Same tactics, same fire, but nowhere near as refined. I'd crushed her before she could even show me much of her arsenal. Truth is, I was a lot heavier-handed back then.
Still, her improvement was staggering. She'd turned obsession into skill. But I improve too. And I improve faster.
Lambdo had shouted about "no mercy," but the fight was done. No need to beat her while she was already broken. The best I could do was leave her alive and hope someone had the sense—and magic—to patch her up.
I headed up the stands. The crowd surged. Autographs, cheers, outstretched hands. I did the celebrity thing—smiles, waves, handshakes. Said some words to the kids. Told them to eat their greens, work hard, all that.
Areva finally managed to fight her way next to me.
"That was incredible!" she shouted, trying to compete with the roar of the crowd.
"Thanks! Your rune helped a lot!" I yelled back.
She grinned. "Then I better get your other rune working, huh?"
"Looking forward to it."
"Where are we going?"
"To Lambdo. Best get what we came for before he tries something."
"How so?!"
"He always fulfills his promises—but never without twisting the deal in his favor. You'll see."
We climbed toward the announcer's box. Lambdo was already staring at me, grinning like a fox. He raised his mic-crystal, voice booming.
"And now—for an encore! An extra event! A special battle the Immortal himself requested!"
"Ah, shit," I muttered. That grin meant trouble. I already had a bad feeling where this was headed.
The arena floor groaned and split apart. Chains rattled, gears screeched. From the gaping pit, a vast, floating form rose—an orb of flesh and teeth, crowned with writhing stalks tipped in eyes that glowed with hate.
Lambdo spread his arms, shouting with theatrical glee.
"Behold… a beholder!"
Fuck. Kaela's still down there. Guess I'll do this the barbarian way.
I jumped.
Dozens of beams lanced out at once—lightning, fire, frost, antimagic, and effects I don't even have names for. Some curved midair to follow me. That's what makes beholders so terrifying: their eyes see everything, attack from everywhere. Before most people even realize what's happening, they're corpses.
I'd fought these things before. I knew the rule.
You don't beat a beholder without getting hit.
So I didn't bother trying.
I let it all hit me.
My skin boiled away. Muscles sloughed from bone. Nerves screamed. Then I hit.
I slammed my palm into its slimy body, drove it into the sand. It screeched, eyestalks flailing, beams scattering wild into the arena walls. I followed with a kick that pulped half its body. The rest went still.
Dead.
The crowd roared like thunder.
I stood over the twitching corpse, breathing steady. I hate beholders. Not because they're tough—they're disgusting. Floating meatballs of paranoia, killing whole villages not for food, not for survival, but because it's in their nature. Pure malice with eyes. I wouldn't be surprised if they were artificially made just to cause pain and suffering. They're why remote settlements vanish overnight, leaving nothing but ashes and shadows burned into the ground.
There's a bounty for a reason. People don't want these things anywhere near civilization. That bounty, alongside its parts being valuable magical reagents, are the reason they're almost extinct outside of dungeons. Almost.
But that's not the only reason I hate them.
I looked down at myself as my body finished regenerating. Yep. No clothes. Just like always.
Whenever I fight a beholder, I end up naked. Every. Damn. Time.
The people, of course, went wild. A few ladies fainted. Some men too. Guess it looks different from the statues.
"I said one fight!" I shouted at Lambdo, knowing it was pointless.
"Hey, hey—don't yell at me. I fulfilled my promise. You wanted a beholder? I gave you a beholder." He still had that shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
"You owe me."
"Sure, buddy. Consider the debt paid. The materials'll be shipped to Alimony—express delivery, free of charge."
"Fine. Tsk. But what are you even getting out of this? You're definitely not feeding off of one fight. And I didn't even kill her."
"Relax." He waved me off. "I'll handle that part."
"Lambdo…"
"Okay, okay," he chuckled. "I'll take care of her. Don't you worry." Then his grin widened. "But since we're here, why don't we talk future business? I can already see it now—Delinger Nights! Weekly! Just like the good old days. What do you say?"
"No." I smiled anyway. "I've had my fill of blood in this place, Lambdo. Enough's enough."
Truth was, I didn't hate him. For all his tricks and profit schemes, he'd given me chances back when I was climbing. Mutual benefit or not, that counted. "Besides—you've got your new champion, don't you? She's got plenty of potential."
He snorted. "Well she's not quite like you John."
"Then she'll do fine," I said simply.
Lambdo sighed, then perked up again. "Well! Your shipment'll be in Alimony in a few days. Are you sure there's no way to keep you here?" He gave me those ridiculous puppy eyes.
I exhaled through my nose. "You got any strong space-warping creatures down there?"
He blinked. "Space-warping? Pfft, no. Not flashy enough for the crowds. Why?"
"Personal project."
"Not to worry, not to worry! I'll swap out the printers. Have some grown in no time! Raven to your doorstep when they're ripe."
Knowing Lambdo, "no time" meant a decade at best. I didn't even know how old he was.
"Great. Thanks. We're leaving."
"See you soon, John!"
The doors opened—and of course, a parade waited. Confetti. Music. Fire dancers. All perfectly timed, like they'd been cued. I glanced back. Lambdo grinned like a devil and gave me a little wave.
I sighed. Should've seen it coming.
So I played the part. Smiled. Waved. Signed autographs. Shook hands. Told kids to chase their dreams. Lambdo milked every second.
"Aaaand now—say farewell to our eight-time Ocular Champion! Joooooohn 'The Immortal' Delinger!"
The city screamed itself hoarse.
Areva was glowing, laughing, soaking it all in.
In just a few days, Theiopolis had changed. New statues of me and Kaela stood tall. Merch stalls overflowed with action figures. Some people had even branded their skin with my runes as tattoos.
Then I spotted it. A small action figure.
"Areva," I said, grinning. "Buy that one. It's going to be a gift."
Her eyes widened, gears turning. "Wait—that's—?!"
"Yes."
She cackled. "I'm buying ten!"
As we crossed the gates and the noise faded, I looked back one last time.
Lambdo was still on his perch. Still grinning. Still watching.
He winked.
Then we were off.
The trip back to Alimony was without accidents. We maintained a steady, slow pace, since I cannot run around as fast as I normally do with Areva in tow. No point anyway. With our current pace, we would arrive just as the materials did.
"So, John," Areva called while we were traveling.
"What was Earth like?"
I was quiet for a moment. "...Colorful."
She tilted her head. "Colorful?"
"Yes. Colorful."
"How so?"
"It's not until I really thought about it in depth, but Earth just has a lot more colors you come across with in your daily life." I paused, trying to put it into words. "Like blue-green for example. I don't really see that here."
"Blue-green?"
"It's exactly how it sounds. A mix of blue and green."
She blinked, processing it. "Huh."
"Pink as well. That's rarer. Red, I mostly see from blood. Purple is rare here too."
Areva had a pondering look on her face, so I asked back,
"What about Infernus? How was it like?"
She shrugged. "Red. Lots of red. Black, grey, and brown."
I gave her a look. "I'm not exactly asking about the colors, but okay."
"Hey—you were the first one who answered in colors!" she shot back.
"Fair enough." I chuckled, then looked ahead.
"Hold on. We're here."
Alimony sprawled in the distance—walls like jagged teeth, smoke rising from chimneys, adventurers coming in and out. After Theiopolis, the place looked almost small. Almost. But there was a kind of comfort to its familiarity.
When we reached the walls, Tom greeted us, joking about how I'd been "receiving more deliveries than the whole damn guild combined." I gave him a nod, but my focus was already ahead.
From the distance, I saw them—rough men in adventurer's gear, clustered at the steps of Julius' lab. Their stance wasn't casual. One of Julius' colleagues—Marvin—was out front, looking nervous, arms crossed too tightly.
I didn't think. I sprinted, landing between them in a crouch. Dust scattered.
"Hey! What's all this?"
"John!" Marvin's face lit with relief. "Thank the gods you're back. These men were looking for you, asking about where you are."
I turned to the group. Brutish faces, scarred arms, gear that looked well-used but… mismatched. Not locals. Not guild-affiliated. My eyes narrowed.
"And who are you people?"
They glanced at each other like kids caught stealing bread until one finally stepped forward—a lean man with sharp eyes that darted around too much. He swallowed, then tried to steady his voice.
"John Delinger."
"That's me."
"Why are you still here, John?"
I frowned. That wasn't a question you ask politely. That was… accusatory.
"Who's asking?"
He flinched. Tried to hold my gaze, failed. Stepped back. "W-we just… You've been staying here a bit too long, we noticed."
Ah. One of those. I relaxed a fraction. People who don't like the power blackouts I cause when I stick around too long. Fair enough.
"I see. Well, don't worry. I'll be on the outskirts. I won't cause blackouts in the city."
But when I looked closer at his face—no relief. Just… tension. Fear, maybe.
"Outskirts? Why?" he asked, voice too sharp, too curious.
"Why?" My tone dropped. "It's none of your business."
Now I was suspicious. My memory's sharp—I remember faces, voices, movements. It's why Kaela never left my mind after all those years. And yet, these men? Not a single familiar one. I've lived in Alimony long enough to know every adventurer's face by sight. These weren't locals.
"In fact," I continued, stepping closer, "who even are you and your group? I don't know your faces."
The lean man's composure cracked. His eyes darted around, looking for backup, but his companions were already losing their nerve.
"We…" He faltered, then muttered, "We're gonna go."
And just like that, they scattered. A bit reluctantly, if I had to put a word on it. I watched them until every last one was gone from view. My gut told me this wasn't over.
"You okay?" I asked Marvin.
"Yeah," he said, letting out a shaky breath. "I thought it was going to get violent there."
"Don't worry. For adventurers, they look meek." Besides, Julius could've handled it.
"John!" Areva finally caught up, panting. "What was that?"
"I have no idea." I kept staring down the street where the men had vanished. "I thought they were just people worried about the blackouts. But now?" I shook my head. "I'm not so sure anymore."
Marvin cleared his throat, eager to move things along. "Come in. Julius is already tearing through your last delivery."
I sighed and followed him in. If Julius was "tearing through" something, it meant the lab was about to look like a hurricane had blown through it.
We stepped inside, and sure enough, Julius and the gang were elbow-deep in beholder fluids.
"Hi Julius. Having fun?"
"John! Just in time. How's Lambdo?"
"Hasn't aged a day. How's the materials?"
"Best condition I've ever seen a beholder in. What did you trade for it?"
"I negotiated for one fight, but Lambdo conned me into two—as always. Anyway… we brought you a gift." I signaled to Areva.
"Hey Julius," Areva said, grinning. "I bought one for everyone. Souvenirs!" She pulled out the action figures we'd snagged.
The researchers froze, staring, brains stalling as they processed what they were seeing.
"…Is that—?" Marvin muttered.
"Julius?" Sophrania gasped, jaw slack.
I grinned wide. "That's Julius. Accurate to the very last detail."
It was, of course, an action figure of Julius in a heroic pose—with heroic proportions to match.
"They're still selling those things?" Julius groaned, face twisting with exasperation.
"Of course! If you hadn't quit so early, you'd be as popular as me in the Ocular! You should join me next time."
"No, I won't. And I don't want to. I only competed for the prize money."
"Come ooon," I teased. "It'll be just like old times!"
"The good old times," Julius deadpanned, "were when we were starving, homeless, and almost dying every other day."
"Exactly!"
"Please," Julius sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "don't show those toys outside."
"Julius! I didn't know you were such a…" Sophrania muttered, cheeks burning red.
"…" Marvin said nothing, just breathing heavily as he clutched the figure, also red in the face.
Meanwhile, Eldric was already laughing so hard he nearly dropped his own. He set it proudly on his desk like it was a holy relic.
Julius was quick to change the subject.
"Let's proceed, John. Let's get your new rune going. I heard the noise outside—some people want you out."
"Yeah, yeah. I had my fun." I sat down. "There were some people, but I don't think they want me gone for purely nice reasons."
Julius raised a brow.
"They just felt off. When people genuinely complain, they go through the city council. These guys? Confrontational. Desperate. Either way, best not to linger."
"I'll look into it," Julius said. He gestured toward his desk. "I'm done with the diagrams. Not my first time handling a beholder, so I had everything prepped—just needed the materials to graft it onto you." He glanced at Areva. "You good?"
"Let me unpack and rest first, Julius. I'm still covered in dust. We'll do it tonight."
And so we did.
By nightfall, I was lying in the cabin while Julius prepared the ink and Areva loaded it into her tool.
"Whoa, wait—are you not going to shave me first?" I asked.
Areva tilted her head. "Did you even read the diagram I gave you?"
"I skimmed it. I don't have the background to understand it."
"Well, no shaving needed this time."
A thought hit me. Beholders. Eyes.
"…Don't tell me it's going in my eye?!"
"Yes, John." She said it so casually it hurt. "This is a special rune. Unlike your others, it's permanently active. Always on. And it's going in your eye."
"Hold on, my heart is not prepared for this."
"It better be. The ink's prepared, and it'll expire if we wait."
I groaned. "Alright, alright." I laid back, forcing my heartbeat to steady. This felt just like the time I had a minor surgery back on Earth—knew it was safe, but nerves don't listen to reason. Only difference now? This was experimental.
"Let's do this," I said, bracing myself.
It took forty-five minutes—probably would've been thirty if I hadn't kept darting my eyeballs around. Strangely, it was almost painless. Turns out, eyes don't have many pain receptors. Mostly just itchy.
"That's it?" I asked.
"That's it. Your eye's a small body part." Areva shrugged.
"…Comforting."
"So, is it working?" Julius asked.
"Wait… yeah, it's kicking in." Suddenly my vision sharpened to unnatural clarity. I saw everything. The ant in the corner. The dried droplets of blood on the needle. The tiny tremor in Julius's hand as he adjusted his spectacles.
"Wow. It's working. I can see… everything."
"Good," Julius said, "but that's not the primary purpose."
I nodded, heading outside. Pulling off the non-conductive cloth on my arm, I activated the Portal Rune. One end opened on the ground where I was looking, the other on my right arm.
"It works." I grinned.
"Again," Julius urged. "We need to test consistency."
So we did. Over and over. And I could feel it: precise, perfect. The Aiming Rune on my eye acted like a brush—always on, always drawing. The Portal Rune was the paint, streaking where I willed it in the instant it flared.
"Fantastic work." I grinned. "I feel like a real magic man now! Let me play with it."
Portal Point A: right arm.
Portal Point B: tree trunk.
Punch.
My arm passed through the trunk cleanly.
"Awesome. One-two combo time."
Right arm punch. Left arm punch. I took advantage of the fact that the rune remains open for a split second after it's deactivated, then bam-bam. The portal closed just as I pulled back. Perfect.
"It's a hit-and-run tactic. I'm unbeatable!" I laughed like a maniac.
Kicked through another portal. Tested distances. Max range: sixteen feet. Julius nodded, scribbling notes.
"We'll check again in a month—see if range improves. What about your Warp Rune? How fast now?"
"Harder to measure. If I push the limit, it's catastrophic."
"Then we'll need special tools."
"For now? Let's celebrate." I stretched. But then—something. My new vision caught a shift in the trees. Someone hiding. I wouldn't have noticed if not for my newly improved eyesight. I warped instantly, grabbing the figure before he bolted. "Now who are you?"
He was camouflaged with mundane means. No magic involved. He was covered in paint, mud, and leaves like a sniper in a ghillie suit.
"D-don't hurt me!" he squealed.
"I won't if you answer me."
"I-I'm sorry! I'm Caspian—the one who talked to you earlier!"
I wiped the dirt on his face. I recognized him. "The man who wanted me out of here. Why are you following me?" I was getting annoyed, so my grip was a little rougher than usual.
"We just—we just wanted to see what you were up to! You weren't doin' your usual job!" he stammered, words tripping over themselves.
"We? Who's we? Who are you working for?"
At this point, Julius and Areva caught up.
"Who's that?" Areva asked.
"It's the annoying dude from earlier. He was just about to tell me who he was working for."
"I'm not workin' for anybody! I swear on the gods!" Caspian whined, voice breaking.
"So what? You and your group of misfits just confronted me and followed me because you felt like it?" I tightened my grip. He winced, eyes wet.
"John. Let me. You're hurting him. I'm sure he has a good reason." Areva touched my shoulder with a soft smile, then crouched down to meet Caspian's wide, pitiful eyes.
"Caspian. Sweety. Why are you here?" Guess she's playing good cop.
He bit his lip, shaking like a child caught stealing bread. "I-I'm… I need money," he finally blurted, his voice breaking again.
"Ok. How does that relate to John? He's not exactly filthy rich."
"Well… it's just…" His eyes flicked from me to the dirt, to Areva, back to me again. "He hasn't been doin' dungeon delves for two months now!"
"I'm confused."
Caspian swallowed hard. "We—we're scavengers, alright? That's what we do! Me an' my mates, we figured it out years back—dungeons kept gettin' cleared, one after another, but not all the loot was taken. At first we thought it was dumb luck, some delver dyin' before grabbin' the shinies. But it kept happenin'! Over and over! So we followed the trail… and it led to him." He pointed at me with a trembling finger.
"Somehow, he was clearin' the deadliest dungeons in the world, but leavin' treasures behind—like breadcrumbs! For us! Free coin, free gems, rare parts—no danger, no blood spilled! It was… it was heaven." His voice broke into a pitiful laugh that bordered on a sob.
"I see. Then why are you looking for John now?" Areva asked.
"Because—because he stopped!" Caspian's voice cracked, desperation spilling out. "Two months, not a single delve! Never happened before! We need him to keep goin'—we need it!"
Julius frowned. "Hmm. I know how much John leaves behind. Whatever was left in those dungeons should've been enough money for a lifetime for dozens of people. How are you in need now?"
"I-I… we spent it all," Caspian admitted, eyes darting around in shame. Then he collapsed to his knees and clung to my leg like a beggar. "Please! Sir John! When are you goin' delvin' again? Just one more dungeon! Just one! I swear, I'll never bother you again if you do. I'm beggin' you!"
I shook him off.
"I'm not going dungeon delving in the near future."
"No! No, please! I need it!" He sobbed openly now, snot running down his face. "Just one more! One more, I beg you! If you don't, I'll—I'll starve!" His nails clawed at the dirt, scrabbling closer to my boots again.
I stared down at him. He looked less like a man and more like a broken animal. As much as he annoyed me, he was still just… broken. A man who fell apart chasing after scraps I left behind. Guess I could help a bit.
Before I could open my mouth, Julius stepped forward and casually tapped his temple. Caspian crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
"What the hell, Julius?"
"Helping him with money won't help. He'll waste it all on the same stupidity that got him here. Let him go. He's not our problem."
"He kind of is," I shot back. "If I cleaned up after my mess, he wouldn't even be in this position."
Julius' eyes hardened. "It's not your mess. If anything, you gave him a better life than he ever would've had. A few years of wealth, food, safety—luxuries he wouldn't have seen otherwise." He stepped closer, gaze steady, cutting. "John. The world isn't your responsibility. You can't carry everyone. Sometimes, you have to let go."
I stared at him, then sighed, the weight heavy in my chest. I crouched and picked the man up like he weighed nothing.
"You're right. But as a decent human being, the least I can do is get him to someone who can help."
Julius held my gaze for a moment longer, then turned and walked back toward the cabin. "Fine. But I'm not helping you with this."
"I'm a big boy," I called after him with a faint smile.
I knew, deep down, Julius had a heart of gold—he just wore it under too many layers of logic. He always thought in the long term, always trusted the system to sort itself out rather than stepping in personally. I understood it. Really, I did. But that same mindset was what cut him off from people, what pushed him to change the world through research instead of unleashing that enormous magical potential himself. It was his strength… and his weakness. Maybe all successful people were stubborn like that.
"I'm heading back to my shop," Areva called over her shoulder.
I gave her a nod, then looked down at the unconscious man in my arms.
"Now what to do with you?"