Bog Standard Isekai

Brin felt his consciousness split off, and knew at once that he was the copy. He knew that wasn't really how it worked since every thread was the real him, but he couldn't help feel that he was a clone. He would do a job and then he would end. He knew he was the copy, because he couldn't control his body—that was left to the main thread. This was by design, he didn't want his other threads accidentally flinching or tripping because of something they saw through an Invisible Eye. It had actually been quite tricky to make it happen, and would’ve been impossible if he hadn’t taken up [Meditation] again.

When Brin had asked Hogg for help getting the most out of his [Multithreading] Skill, he'd been given a long list of meditation exercises to go through. He'd taken [Meditation] as a General Skill again, and it was already up to level 11.

If he kept up his meditation training, soon he would be able to split off separate threads without speeding up his perception of time, though he wasn't sure exactly how that was going to work. For now, he was stuck doing mostly preparatory exercises.

The thread of Brin knew what he was supposed to be doing, so he dutifully went to work. First, he went to the controller, a log run by a directed thread that was in charge of telling all the other threads where to go. It assigned a section of glass where live recordings were stored, so he could use that to watch Marksi with an Invisible Eye.

Actually, what was his name? He was Brin, sure, but which one? He wouldn't know until he said something in the master log. He was supposed to do that anyway.

CT1: Online.

CT1: Found the feed being recorded by DT3. Observing Marksi.

So his name was CT1, huh? He really should get better at naming his variables. Except he was literally the only person that would ever read this, and he always knew what he meant, so did it really matter? Besides, thread or not, he couldn’t stop thinking of himself as Brin.

He turned his attention to the feed and saw Lurilan.

After helping Brin again with his sea monster problem here in Blackcliff, Lurilan the [Hunter] had hung around Blackcliff for a while even though he hated cities and there wasn't much good hunting around here.

Lurilan had offered to take the little dragon hunting, and Brin had immediately agreed and started packing a backpack. Then Lurilan had told Brin that he meant only Marksi, and Brin had agreed with a little more hesitation. In the end, he knew it was a good idea. Marksi kept getting overshadowed by Brin's growth. He needed to learn to do some things on his own.

Right now, they were mostly walking along in silence. Marksi had grown again, now so big that he looked extremely awkward on Lurilan's shoulders. He'd gained some mass in his arms and legs and had definitely grown more like a lizard and less like a snake, though he was neither. Despite having scales that shimmered in alternating rainbow patterns, Marksi was somehow a mammal.

Together they sliced across the landscape. Lurilan must've had several movement Skills working, because he almost looked like he was on one of those airport moving sidewalks. Every step he took seemed to move him three steps worth of distance.

They'd need to move quickly to get far enough into the forest to do some actual hunting, and it looked like Lurilan was doing just that.

Brin decided to speed things up. He was already only taking up 10% of his total consciousness, and because of the training and his high Mental Control, time was already going at only 6 times the regular speed, but no reason he couldn't give some of those resources back until he needed them. He checked the log and saw... nothing from the main thread. Typical. He always forgot to log what he was doing. A quick glance through his regular eyes and he saw himself working in his glass workshop.

CT1: Marksi and Lurilan are walking. Reducing investment from 10% to 1%.

That was probably the biggest breakthrough he'd made, realizing that he could reduce how much processing power his own thread was taking up. He couldn't do it to other threads, but he could always ask them in the log to use less if he wanted more for himself.

Time zipped by. Lurilan and Marksi walked, now appearing to his eyes as if they were careening across the countryside in a racecar. They topped hills and waded through patches of forest, zooming across the earth.

He kept an idle eye on them, and watched the time tick by. It was a minute every one and a half seconds.

He’d finally figured out how to get an accurate number for how fast time was moving for him. The key had been to do time tests with his directed threads. Since a directed thread was a version of his that was completely focused and without thought or distraction, when he told it to do something, it always did it with utterly perfect efficiency. For example, a directed thread using 50% of his processing power could count to twenty in 0.89 seconds, and it would always take exactly that long every time. If he told it to count by flashing an image of the numbers in his head instead of mentally 'saying' the numbers, that time went down to 0.02 seconds. His brain was a fast computer.

Since it took the same amount of time every time, he could take that and use math to figure out the rate at which he was experiencing time.

Oops, something was happening. Lurilan had said something, and Marksi had hopped down, but now they were walking again. Rather than put his time back to 10%, he spun up another directed thread to write out everything Lurilan was saying to a new log for him.

Lurilan: I think we're far enough out now that you may start seeing some game. Why don't you hop down. No, don't look at me like that, I will not tell you what my tracking Skills see. The point of this is for you to hunt something. First, why don't you show me what you can do? I'd like to see what your regular habit is before I start to give suggestions.

Marksi seemed to forget he was hunting after that. He acted the way he usually did when they went out into the forest. He played and danced and ran around, giddy at the freedom and the adventure. He climbed trees and jumped in every puddle.

Lurilan spoke here and there, but he spent enough time in silence that CT1 could read everything in the log even if it was too fast to make out audibly.

Lurilan: That bird you scared away is called a Blue-chin. So named for the tuft of blue hair below the beak. Yes, you heard me right, hair. It's one of only four birds in Frenaria that grow hair, and one of only two that grows both hair and feathers.

Lurilan: There are many burrowing squirrels here. They tend to stay underground, you'll only see one for every hundred that are present. Don't kill one if you see it, please. They aren't dangerous, but they're very territorial and quite annoying when offended.

But of course, Marksi was Marksi.

Lurilan: See why I told you not to kill one? Oh, you thought that they'd all swarm you and you'd have an exciting gauntlet of enemies to fight? Well, I hope you learned your lesson. They won't stop that annoying chirping for hours. Come, let's get out of here.

Marksi and Lurilan spent a lot of time running out of the burrowing squirrels’ territory. CT1 noticed in the master log that Sion visited the shop, mostly a warning to not suddenly jump up the resource usage. Then Sion left, and the main Brin got back to work trying to figure out why his oven wasn't hot enough. CT1 would probably be allowed to slow his time down if he needed to. Did he need to, though?

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Lurilan: Hungry? Well, we're hunting, aren't we? Fetch some lunch.

Lurilan: Nice kill. That snake never knew you were there. And that'll do for a meal for us both I think. No, don't give me that look. If you kill something you must eat it; that's the hunter's code. We do not kill indiscriminately. We’d be eating that squirrel if you’d managed to keep hold of it.

Lurilan got a fire going, and quickly removed the scales and bones and fried the meat on a frying pan. CT1 couldn't be sure because of how fast time was moving, but it seemed like Marksi chomped down his portion before letting it cool at all.

Clean-up happened at lightning speed, and then they were off again.

Lurilan: How would you hunt a larger animal? For fetching lunch for yourself this is fine, but if you really want to be a help to Brin you'll need to be able to hunt larger prey. Something like that.

Lurilan pointed with his bow at a deer that had just bounded into view. Brin decided there was no way that it was a coincidence it was there. Lurilan must've been tracking it for a while. The deer startled when it saw them both, and bounded away. Marksi zipped after it.

Brin checked [Inspect].

Race: Deer

Age: 4

Level: 16

He hurried and left a message in the master log.

CT1: Ok to increase investment? Watching Marksi hunt a deer.

Main: Granted

CT1: Increasing investment 1% to 35%

Time suddenly slowed down. At thirty-five percent of his brain power plus the bonuses that Mental Control gave him, he was now experiencing time at just around twice its normal rate. Things slowed down, but everything was still happening fast.

Marksi was in hot pursuit of a fairly large deer, closer to the size of a reindeer. It still hopped more than ran, bounding through the forest in great leaps. The dragonling was pretty fast on his own, but couldn't match the pace of the deer. He only stayed within sight of his prey because it kept changing direction to try to throw him off. But every time Marksi looked like he was about to reach the deer, it leapt away from him again faster than he could follow.

Dragons were not persistence predators; Marksi was going to tire soon. In fact, Brin was surprised he hadn't given up already. He usually needed a nap right after he ate anything. The fact that he hadn't insisted on it after eating that snake here with Lurilan was a testament to how serious he was taking this.

Marksi had been extremely impressed with Lurilan from their first meeting. He'd seen the way that Lurilan had fought on the beach, casually bringing down waves of monsters without letting a single drop of blood or dirt touch his clothes. Now, he looked like he wanted to show Lurilan that he was a hunter, too. He wouldn't get the chance unless he could find a way to catch that deer.

Suddenly, Marksi went invisible. He was a natural at changing his glittery rainbow scales into the colors around him as camouflage, and combined with his quickness and sneakiness he was impossible to keep track of. The directed thread guiding the Invisible Eye lost track of him, and Brin worried that it would return if not given further instructions.

He dashed out a message.

CT1: Follow the deer!

DT3: Understood. Following the deer.

The picture shifted, now focused entirely on the deer. It bounded through the forest at top speed, much faster than Marksi would ever be able to keep up with.

Suddenly, it startled at a loud sound, and turned to run to the left, launching itself even faster across the forest. Again, a loud sound startled it. It nearly tripped this time, and changed direction again. Brin would be willing to bet that Lurilan was doing that somehow. Maybe by using some kind of Skill, but more likely he was just throwing rocks at trees.

Then, before Brin even realized Marksi was there, the little dragon was leaping onto the deer's back. He landed claws out, and his claws grew longer to latch deeply into the deer's flesh, using the Wyrd power that he'd gotten by eating Siphani's enchantment focus back when.

Despite Marksi's best efforts to hold on, the deer flung him away and fled, bleeding freely and leaving a trail that even Brin would've been able to follow.

CT1: Follow Marksi!

DT3: Understood. Following Marksi.

The image swerved back around to Marksi, who stood up on shaky legs. There was a look of extreme frustration on his face. He was spent. He'd never be able to catch up to that deer again.

Lurilan stepped into view. “Well done, friend. Let's go finish it off, shall we?”

Everything Lurilan was saying was still being repeated in the log, but time was slow enough that Brin could understand it in real time, so he ignored the log.

Marksi chirped in glee and jumped towards Lurilan to get back on his shoulders, but the [Hunter] caught him mid-air. He delicately used a handkerchief to remove all dirt and blood from Marksi's legs and claws before gently setting him on his shoulders again.

He took off in a light jog, and the landscape blurred. In moments, he'd caught up with the struggling deer. It was lagging now, starting to weaken from blood loss.

“Now, if I was a more fair-minded teacher, I'd make you wait until it weakened and collapsed on its own, and I'd make you follow it on your own by its blood trail. But I'm frankly too impatient for that, and I hate to see it suffer. Go ahead and finish it off, won't you?” Lurilan heaved Marksi by his middle and flung him towards the deer.

He landed on the deer's hind legs and bit into them, attacking with new energy now that his prey was near again. He drove the deer to the ground, then swerved around to go for the neck.

It was neither messy nor clean. Neither was it quick. Marksi's claws were only as sharp as regular animal claws, and he just didn't have the muscle power to do more than shallow wounds. He had to dig through the tough fur and skin of the deer scratch by scratch. Finally, he hit something that sent out a spray of arterial blood, and the poor deer was put out of its suffering.

“Well that could have gone better. But could have gone worse. Hey, wake up!” Lurilan grinned as Marksi yawned and slumped on top of his kill, eyes already drooping for a nap. “You wouldn't want some beast of the forest to steal this out from under you, would you?”

Marksi suddenly perked up, staring out around him at the trees in fierce suspicion. It honestly surprised Brin that that had worked. He thought Marksi needed a nap after eating, the way that snakes needed time to digest their food. Maybe that was his mistake; he still thought of Marksi as a little snake, no matter how many times he was reminded that he was much, much more than that.

“Help me dress this. It's something you'll need to be able to do if you want to be a hunter,” said Lurilan, and Marksi shifted his attention to him. Lurilan immediately began stripping the skin to bare the muscle underneath. It was grisly work, but also fascinating in a way, the way that a [Hunter] could turn an animal into materials and resources.

“Shall we talk about the hunt as we work? Usually a creature such as you would be an ambush predator. You would wait in hiding until something tasty walks by and then leap out and kill it with a single bite. However, you also have a marvelous ability to keep your camouflage activated even as you run at top speed.”

Marksi puffed up in pride.

“Where you're lacking is in the takedown. You do well against creatures smaller than you, but you struggle against larger opponents. The best you can do is act as a distraction to give Brin an opening.”

Brin didn't think that was quite fair. There was nothing that could beat a good distraction, and Marksi's “distractions” tended to be things like clawing out a monster's eye.

Lurilan continued, “If you had strong jaws like a crocodile, or if you could squeeze like a constrictor snake, or sharper claws and stronger legs like a lion, or maybe a venomous bite, you could reliably kill monsters your size or larger.”

Marksi scuttled around in a circle atop the dead deer, looking down at it and perhaps imagining the monster core that he would need to improve his killing ability. Strong monsters or animals often dropped a beast core that he could use to evolve and grow, but he refused to eat the core of any beast that he didn't have a large role in defeating.

“Of course,” Lurilan said quietly, almost to himself. “All that would be nothing if you had endurance. I only needed to step in here because you couldn't keep running. You would have killed it without aid if you had been able to keep up.”

Marksi snapped his jaws at Lurilan, as if to say, “I am a dragon. Dragons do not run.”

Brin wasn't sure why that particular snap of his jaws meant that, but he was getting pretty good at deciphering Marksi-ese.

Lurilan pointed the short-bladed knife that he was using to dress the deer at Marksi, pointing at him with a serious expression on his face. “I know what you are. Do you? Brin will never have sharp claws or scales, and I will never have wings that fly, but neither of us is a dragon. You have no limits, none except the ones you place on yourself.”

Marksi drew back, confused.

Lurilan turned back to the deer. He finished his work, then wrapped everything up carefully with twine and paper, and then stored it in his back. When he was done, the only thing he needed to wash was his hands, which he accomplished in a small stream nearby. Marksi watched him in silence, thinking. Every time the dragonlings eyes started to droop down, he pinched himself with his claws and perked up again.

When Lurilan was done, he stood. “If you want to be able to run, then run.” He started to jog off into the forest, back towards Blackcliff. To Brin's surprise, Marksi dashed after him.

He noticed movement in the master log.

Main: Can I have some time back? I want to talk to Hogg.

CT1: Sure thing. Marksi took down the deer. They're on their way back.

Brin adjusted his investment from 35% back down to 1% and the time zoomed by again.

Marksi ran, following Lurilan through the forest. He panted and his legs shook. His face was bent towards the ground and his tail dragged behind him, but still he ran on.

By Brin's estimate, Marksi made it three and a half miles before he collapsed. Lurilan turned back and scooped him off the dragonling off the ground, carrying him home.

CT1: Returning.

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