Raymond lay in the medical pod, eyes closed, and sent the mental command to the World System to transfer his consciousness to the lobby.
His body went unconscious. The medical pod's display registered the change—heartbeat steady, breathing shallow but regular, vitals stabilizing into the pattern of deep sleep.
Raymond's consciousness awakened within the white room.
The bed was gone this time. No furniture. No objects. Just the empty space stretching in every direction, walls seamless and featureless.
He focused his mind, calling up the status screen.
The familiar pale blue interface materialized before him.
=== PROFILE ===
NAME: [Ray #776784]
LEVEL: [3] [0 EXP]
TITLE: [None]
=== ATTRIBUTES ===
STR: 4
AGI: 7
END: 7
PER: 5
INT: 4
WIL: 7
=== SKILLS ===
[ Basic Interrogation Technique ]
[ Basic Shooting - Handgun ]
Everything was in order. Raymond sent the command to start the next simulation.
A menu materialized in front of him.
[ Please select the world ]
Two options appeared below:
[ Derivative World 502 ] [ Random ]
"So that desert world was called Derivative World 502?"
The words came out as a mutter. He selected the first option.
The menu shifted. A new prompt replaced the previous one.
[ Please select your difficulty ]
Six options displayed below:
[ Easy ] [ Normal ] [ Hard ] [ Extreme ] [ Legendary ] [ Hell ]
Raymond held his breath, staring at the options. A few seconds passed as he contemplated.
His plan had been Normal difficulty. Safe. Manageable. The smart choice according to every piece of advice he'd received.
But a dilemma gnawed at him.
He knew he couldn't technically die within the simulation until after his fifth attempt. His consciousness wouldn't be destroyed. From the sixth simulation onwards, death became real. Permanent. But for now? He had room to take risks.
That knowledge changed the calculation.
He could afford to be bolder.
His selection moved to [ Hard ] difficulty.
A new prompt appeared.
[ Do you confirm the choices? Once confirmed this will be unchangeable. ]
[ Yes ] [ No ]
He hesitated for a second.
Then selected [ Yes ].
The system prompts disappeared. The main interface remained, and lines of text materialized across it.
[ World Selected: Derivative World 502 ]
[ Difficulty Selected: Hard ]
[ Generating Main Quest... ]
[ Main Quest: Locate and Destroy Sand Rat Gang.
Description: The Sand Rats represent a persistent Tier 0 hostile infestation operating within the Serenity Desert & outer Cyber City region. Locate the gang's hiding place and eliminate their members.
Completion Rate: 0% ]
[ Player Level: 3 ]
[ Generating Sub Quest (2)... ]
[ Sub Quest 1 (Level Requirement 1): Eliminate Sand Rat Outpost.
Description: Destroy all members of the Sand Rat Outpost at the Serenity Desert.
Completion Rate: 0% ]
[ Sub Quest 2 (Level Requirement 3): Rescue Rakheel Abu Al Bakar from captivity.
Description: Rakheel Abu Al Bakar is being held captive at the Sand Rat Outpost of the Serenity Desert. Infiltrate and rescue him.
Completion Rate: 0% ]
Raymond read the text carefully as it appeared line by line.
"So the missions are all targeting the Sand Rat gang."
The words came out as a whisper, contemplative. He nodded to himself.
The quest about rescuing Rakheel surprised him somewhat. He hadn't expected the merchant to survive that robot attack. The transformer had dropped from the sky, fired that laser—Raymond had assumed everyone at the oasis was dead.
"Maybe I can get info out of him about what happened afterwards. I just hope he won't be too scared and think I'm a ghost after seeing me alive and well."
A chuckle escaped him. He shook his head and shifted his focus back to the interface.
Another prompt materialized.
[ Do you want to enter the simulation? ]
[ Yes ] [ No ]
Raymond took a deep breath. Held it. Exhaled slowly.
He confirmed affirmative.
His consciousness became blurry. White light flooded the entire room, overwhelming his vision, washing out everything until only brightness remained.
Control of his body returned gradually.
Raymond found himself lying in desert sand, facing upward. The sun burned overhead, bright and merciless against pale blue sky.
He pushed himself up to sitting position, then stood. Still disoriented. He shook his head slightly, letting the sensation pass, and dusted sand from his clothes. The grains clung stubbornly to the fabric.
His eyes swept the surroundings.
The oasis. The same one from before. Date palms clustered around the modest lake, their fronds rustling in the hot breeze. The flat ground where the caravan had pitched its tents.
Empty now. No tents. No carts. No mercenaries. Just sand and vegetation and the quiet lap of water against the shore.
Raymond's gaze lifted skyward. He raised one hand to shield his eyes from the glare, squinting as he tracked the sun's position. His brow furrowed with concentration. The sun sat slightly past its zenith—not directly overhead but displaced westward by a margin that suggested time had passed since morning's peak.
His lips pressed together as he calculated. Experience from desert operations in his previous life provided the baseline. The angle, the shadow length from the palms, the quality of light.
Midday. Maybe one or two hours past noon.
He walked to the pond's edge. The water looked clean, reflecting scattered clouds. He knelt, cupped his hands, and splashed water onto his face. Cold. Sharp. It cut through the lingering fog in his head.
He moved to the nearest date tree and sat in its shade, back against the trunk.
I need to find civilization and then gather intel about the Sand Rats before coming up with a plan of attack. Maybe something in the store could help me.
Raymond focused his mind, calling up the Reputation Store interface.
[ Reputation Store | Authorization Level: 1 | Current Points: 110 REP ]
The familiar display materialized in front of him. He scrolled through the list, eyes scanning the available items and skills.
There—the one he'd been looking for.
[ Basic Tracking | Cost: 20 REP ]
The description expanded below it:
[ When you focus, you can actually see the path your target took, a trail of disturbances obvious to your eyes. You can now spot the scuff marks, snapped branches, or faint impressions that others miss. The chaos of a crowded street, dense forest, or desert is less likely to make you lose the scent. (Accuracy and detection range are determined by PER). ]
Twenty reputation points. A bit costlier than the stat increases, but he had one hundred ten points to work with.
Raymond didn't hesitate. He redeemed the skill.
[ 20 REP deducted | Current Points: 90 REP ]
[ Received: Basic Tracking ]
He focused his mind, mentally commanding the skill to activate.
His vision shifted.
The desert around him remained the same—sand, palms, water—but now faint traces overlaid everything. Impressions that hadn't been visible before became highlighted in his perception. The ground where the caravan had stood showed disturbances—rectangular outlines where tents had been pitched, parallel grooves where cart wheels had rested, circular depressions from the camels' feet.
Raymond's gaze moved to where the central tent had stood.
Faint traces marked the sand. Someone being dragged. The disturbance pattern was clear once he knew how to look.
He walked up to the trail and crouched, examining the markings more closely.
Three sets of footprints. Two were firm, deep, showing the full weight of someone walking normally. They flanked either side of the third set—shallow impressions, incomplete, the pattern of feet being dragged rather than stepping. The middle person's hands had left drag marks in the sand between the footprints.
Raymond followed the trail. It led toward the side of the oasis, moving away from the water. The footprints continued for twenty meters, then stopped.
New marks appeared. Car tread patterns pressed into the sand—wide, aggressive treads, the kind used on desert vehicles. Buggies, most likely.
He deactivated the skill.
The highlighted traces vanished instantly. His vision returned to normal. Just bare desert sand stretched before him, showing no sign of what had happened here.
"Damn!"
The gasp escaped his lips before he could stop it.
Well, compared to being transmigrated into another world in the body of a teenager, this doesn't seem as magical but still... damn.
Surprise flickered in his eyes. He shook his head, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Points well spent. I should be careful using them from now on until I can figure out the mechanics and find a way to produce them steadily.
He activated the skill again.
The traces reappeared in his vision—the tire marks cutting across the sand, heading away from the oasis in a clear line.
Let's see where these tracks lead to.
Raymond started following them, his eyes tracking the highlighted impressions as they curved around the vegetation and pointed toward the open desert beyond.
Raymond followed the tire tracks across the desert for nearly three hours. The skill kept the impressions visible in his vision, a highlighted trail cutting through otherwise featureless sand. The sun had moved further west, casting longer shadows from the sparse rock formations that dotted the landscape.
A mountain rose ahead.
Raymond stopped nine hundred meters out. The tracks continued forward, but now he could see more—multiple sets of tire marks crisscrossing the area near the mountainside. Fresh ones overlapping older impressions. Traffic. Regular activity.
His eyes narrowed.
The outpost mentioned in the sub quest?
He scanned the terrain for cover. Most of it was open desert, offering nothing. Then his gaze caught on a small rock formation a couple meters away—three weathered stones clustered together, barely chest-high. Not enough for full cover, but sufficient for basic reconnaissance.
The sound of engines reached him. Distant but growing louder. A roar that echoed across the sand.
Raymond ran to the rocks and dropped to his knees behind them, pressing his body low.
Damn it. A binocular would have been wonderful. Should I buy a skill that can help with that?
He paused, considering the Reputation Store. Vision enhancement. Long-range observation. Those skills had to exist.
Nah. Not important right now. Let's wait and see.
His eyes stayed fixed on the mountainside, tracking the source of the engine noise.
Two off-road buggies emerged from the mountainside.
Raymond's eyes tracked them immediately. The same type he'd seen the Sand Rats use before—reinforced frames, armor plating welded to the sides, aggressive tire treads designed for desert terrain.
He couldn't make out details from this distance. No faces. No specific equipment. But the way the vehicles moved told him something. They accelerated hard, engines roaring as they picked up speed. Not the cautious approach of vehicles returning to base. These were leaving. Heading out.
So the outpost could be on the other side of the mountain?
The buggies tore across the desert, kicking up twin plumes of dust behind them. The sound of their engines faded gradually as distance swallowed them.
Raymond remained crouched behind the rocks, watching until they disappeared from view entirely.
A plan started to form in his mind.
Time passed. Evening arrived in the desert, the sun dropping toward the horizon and painting the sand in shades of orange and red.
Raymond remained at the rock formation, lying prone, thinking through his options.
Night reconnaissance was the best approach. He could move under cover of darkness, scout the outpost's layout, assess its defenses. Get a proper picture of what he was dealing with before committing to action.
If I get a chance, I can even infiltrate and take out the men in the outpost.
His gaze returned to three skills he'd bought from the store.
[ Basic Night Vision ]
[ Description: You've accepted that turning on a light isn't always an option. You can now make out shapes and outlines in low-light or dark conditions, instead of just walking into walls. Stumbling around in the pitch black is now slightly less of a problem. (Clarity and range of vision are determined by PER). ]
[ Basic Sneak ]
[ Description: You've learned the revolutionary concepts of "lifting your feet" and "not breathing like a steam engine." Your movements are now muffled, making you less likely to be heard when trying to be quiet. You can now cross a room without sounding like a herd of angry... things. (Effectiveness at avoiding detection is determined by AGI). ]
Both costing 20 points each.
These skills will give me the breathing room for recon.
His attention settled on the last one.
[ Basic Concussive Strike ]
[ Description: You've seen it in movies, and now you can almost do it. This skill lets you focus your strike on specific weak points, like the side of the neck or the temple, to non-lethally incapacitate a target. You now have a better chance of knocking someone out cold instead of just giving them a serious headache. It's the difference between "lights out" and "an angry person who hits back." (Success chance and precision are determined by AGI). ]
Which cost him a whopping 30 points.
There was a Chinese operative back in Bolivia. He'd used something like this—silent takedowns, precise strikes to the neck and temple. Dropped four trained bodyguards protecting the Secretary of Defense without raising an alarm. No gunshots. No struggle. Just bodies hitting the floor one by one. We'd anticipated the tactic, though. Deployed a dummy in the Secretary's place. Otherwise, that operation would've been a complete failure.
Raymond's mind lingered on the memory for a moment.
Wonder what happened to him afterwards.
Raymond snapped back to the present, his gaze fixing on the mountain. The buggies that had left earlier hadn't returned yet.
The sun has already set. Should I infiltrate now or wait for their return?
A moment passed as he weighed the decision.
Then he stood and sprinted toward the mountain.
His boots hit sand in steady rhythm, the distance closing quickly. After a few minutes of climbing, he made it to the summit.
The other side opened before him.
Raymond activated Night Vision. His vision shifted, shapes and outlines becoming visible in the darkness. The cliff face dropped away sharply, and there at its base sat the outpost.
The installation wasn't fancy. It looked old even in the dim visibility range his skill provided. A tower rose three stories high, metal framework visible against the darker rock behind it.
Probably a lookout sentry.
Adjacent to the tower stood a single-story barracks. Simple construction. Flat roof. To its left sat garages—open-sided structures with vehicles parked inside—and beyond those, a makeshift warehouse. Open-air. Crates stacked under a corrugated metal roof.
Raymond's eyes tracked movement below.
Two figures on the tower, leaning against the railings. Not alert. Casual posture. Three or four more moving between the garage and warehouse, carrying equipment or supplies.
I see two people on the tower. Three or four more by the garage and warehouse. But I don't see any other structures, and that barracks feels small to house so many people.
Puzzlement crossed his face. His brow furrowed.
Maybe...
Understanding dawned.
There's an underground bunker beneath the barracks?
This complicates things.
Raymond's lips pursed. His thoughts raced, working through infiltration scenarios, trying to find an approach that wouldn't get him killed.
Sneaking into an unknown underground bunker is out of the question. Without knowing how many enemies they have down there, going in would be tantamount to suicide. I need a better plan.
His gaze shifted back to the garage and warehouse. He watched the figures moving between them, observed the layout, the spacing, the way the structures connected to the rest of the outpost.
His creased brows smoothed.
Hmm... That could work.
His hand came up to his chin, fingers resting there as the plan took shape in his mind.