—Brooke—

  Brooke was still processing her apparent “death” when Jacob lifted Edgar’s sledgehammer and hit Kyle in the skull. Kyle buckled over and hit the ground.

  “What are you doing?” she cried.

  “He’s a killer!” Jacob screamed. “What do you think he’s going to do to us when he wakes up? Now help me!” He ran around Kyle’s body, sweating heavily as he lifted the hammer for the killing blow.

  Brooke only had a split second to decide what she was going to do. Would she help Kyle? Or not?

  The decision was fast: Kyle killed her brother—she loathed him. He was dangerous—she should let him die.

  So why did she use her rapier to skewer Jacob through the chest?

  That's what happened—and it happened in a blind panic.

  Jacob didn't even know what happened until he couldn't breathe. He looked down and stumbled backward, watching as the ultra-sharp blade, which cut deeper into him with gravity alone, jiggled up and down like a possessed light switch. He looked at her, and she could see surprise, contempt, disbelief, and betrayal in his eyes.

  That was the part that haunted her—the betrayal.

  Jacob was dangerous, someone who lived in a state of self-justifying psychosis so deep that he couldn't differentiate between helping people and killing them. Brooke noted that from the moment she met him. She watched Kyle save Jacob, only for the latter to call him a murderer. He was a problem. Yet his look of betrayal still haunted her, burning fresh as he stumbled backward and fell onto the ground with a loud thump, arterial spurts shooting out of his chest like Old Faithful.

  It only lasted a moment before the chime:

  You have killed Level 14 human.

  You have leveled up. +9 Free points.

  You have leveled up. +10 Free points.

  You have reached the Level 10 milestone. Adaptation Rewards unlocked. Two abilities have been added to the Scale of Marico.

  “Fuck!” Brooke screamed, looking around. She didn’t know what to do. Should she leave Kyle? No. That felt… wrong. But she needed to do something!

  The pragmatist in her forced her past her fears and self-loathing, allowing her to act. She grabbed Troy's bloody katana—

  (because he’ll use it)

  —and then slung Kyle’s sniper rifle onto her shoulder. She didn’t know what she was doing: her primal mind and body were acting on their own.

  Using her newfound strength, she dragged Kyle into the tunnel on 5th and Cherry. The sign beside the tunnel had a diamond symbol and said 2 OR MORE PERSONS. She knew it was a carpool lane, but she felt it was hilarious—hilarious even though it wasn’t—hilarious because hilarity was better than the emotions she was supposed to be feeling.

  Brooke had pulled Kyle’s body through Troy’s blood, so she left a macabre blood smear as she entered the tunnel. It looked like a bear had killed a deer, and had dragged its kill’s body back to its cave. The blood trail screamed, “A dead human’s in the tunnel!” She prayed that others would be too afraid to confirm it.

  Brooke hid Kyle's body behind a truck and then stood. Is this far enough? she wondered. People’ll be here soon.

  Cherry Street was three blocks from the library, on the main road that led to Columbia Center Tower, the International District, and other major parts of the city. Most people would walk past the tunnel, only to learn that three people (or perhaps four) had experienced gruesome deaths. A deathly punch, a decapitation, a pierce through the heart—Brooke didn't want anyone to see her near that crime scene! Luckily, she had the skills to watch her surroundings.

  Brooke sat down and said, “Clairvoyance.”

  Skill “Clairvoyance” has activated.

  Her mind blasted into the skies above 5th Avenue. It only lasted for two seconds, but she saw a team already moving toward them.

  Brooke immediately grabbed Kyle’s rifle. She didn’t know how to use it—but it looked pretty damn dangerous. That’s all she needed: a bluff. Guns scared people. It would work.

  Brooke was testing how to aim the gun when she heard the team walk past the tunnel.

  “Jesus fuck. What the hell happened?”

  “Did someone get mauled?”

  “No. Look over there.”

  “Whoa! What the fuck. Did they kill each other?”

  “Yeah. There's a sword stuck in the guy's chest. Check out that blood track. Someone dragged a body into the tunnel.”

  Brooke lifted the gun, holding her breath as she aimed it toward the entrance—preparing to fire. Thankfully—

  “Bro, what the hell are we still doing here? The person that killed them is in there!”

  “Oh shit. We gotta go!”

  The group ran off, giving Brooke some relief. More teams would show up, but she doubted anyone would enter the tunnel. Not after seeing how grisly the crime scene was.

  Brooke collapsed against the truck's tire once they left. The adrenaline had already worn off, and everything that had just transpired flashed across her mind. She killed a man—that was a thing. She saved her brother’s killer—that was another. Kyle might not have been his killer, but he swung the axe, and no one could psychologically handle that. To have the person who cut your loved one in half throw up their hands and say, “This is pointless,” was psychologically damaging. Then again, saving people—twice—only to be resented and deemed a murderer, would surely have that same type of effect.

  Kyle and Brooke hadn't known each other for an hour, and their deep wounds were still fresh. And yet—

  They saved each other.

  Kyle had defended her, saved her life, and killed for her—nearly dying in the process. How the hell was she supposed to hate him after that? She couldn't, and she resented that. He stole the one outlet for grieving less than an hour after she learned her brother died. And yet, she took another man's life to save him and was now risking her neck to protect him.

  Part of that made complete sense to her, but the majority wouldn't permit it. How was she supposed to sit there for the next God knew how long without going crazy? The second the desperation disappeared, she'd grieve over her brother's death, and would do that knowing full well that the man who chopped him in half was two feet away from her! Knowing that she just killed someone to protect that man. Knowing she was actively protecting him.

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  How could anyone withstand that degree of cruelty?

  They couldn’t.

  Something had to give. Either Brooke needed to hide Kyle better and abandon him, deeming each other even, or she needed to gain closure. Unfortunately, that decision required her to face the truth—to learn the story behind Joel's death.

  If she were anyone else, that wouldn't be possible—but she did have the means. Her class—Detective—was designed for just that sort of task. All she had to do was touch the blood from Kyle's head wound, and it would show her clairvoyant images of everywhere he had bled within the last 72 hours. If Kyle bled from the spider, she'd be able to see Joel's corpse and the spider close up.

  That's what she needed to do.

  Brooke swallowed, wanting to back out. I need to know… she thought, hyping herself up. She combed her fingers through Kyle's hair to touch his healing scab and activated her skill.

  Skill “Divine Tracking” has activated.

  Brooke’s mind blasted to a high floor of Columbia Center Tower. Kyle had nicked his back against a broken glass wall that a creature had blasted through. She shivered when she saw the grisly conference room and the insect's dead corpse. That's where Kyle started.

  Then she saw a black panther and a blue bird the size of a pterodactyl stapled together by a metal piece, and the white wonderland of webs on the bottom floor, crimson spider silk covered in Kyle’s dry blood. She followed Kyle’s wound through a glass wall, then noted his bloody indent between two vehicles that had sandwiched him at high speed.

  Brooke knew by then that the spider that created those grisly crimson webs was the one who killed Joel, and it was powerful enough to throw cars around like rag dolls. That fact exonerated Kyle enough while also keeping him resentable, so she planned to cut the feed, only to see him:

  Joel.

  Brooke felt zero pity for Jacob after seeing her brother's corpse. Joel's throat had been torn out, torso stabbed by six pickaxe strike-style wounds. There was no universe in which Joel would've survived that attack. And yet—

  Jacob was right about one thing: Kyle savagely cut through Joel. Not only that, the cut had drenched her brother in acid that burned his clothing and boiled his flesh until he was barely recognizable.

  Brooke tried to cut the tracking skill, feeling sick, but she saw the spider the next moment. That beast was the worst-case scenario for her psyche: a scene that proved that Kyle sliced her brother in half, and it still wasn’t enough. It wasn't excessive force. It was necessary—desperately so.

  Any argument for resentment that Brooke had dissipated, leaving her with nothing but three conclusions:

  (Joel was killed by the spider.)

  (Kyle was a hero for slicing through him.)

  (No one was to blame.)

  Brooke came to those conclusions, broke down, and cried.

  —Kyle—

  I awoke in the darkness. My body moved fine, but my head suffered a stabbing pain. If I were to fight like this, I’d die, so I kept still, wishing I had a phone alarm.

  “You’re awake,” Brooke said in the darkness. It was her same voice—but it sounded hollow.

  I stupidly tried to sit up by reflex, only to experience extreme vertigo. My world spun, chopping and restarting a dozen times. I opened my World Screen. Free stats to perception… I thought, investing my nineteen Free points in Perception. My mind cleared enough for me to see her.

  Brooke was sitting against a truck wheel, covered in wounds. I could smell the acrid smell of beast blood and rot, and when I turned, I saw slain rats around me—each the size of a boar.

  Did she protect me? I wondered, surprised.

  “You okay?” Brooke asked softly.

  “Yeah… just give me a minute.” I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths. “Where’s Jacob?”

  Brooke shifted uncomfortably, her ripped blouse scraping against the truck tire. “Jacob…” She let out a frustrated exhale. “Jacob’s dead,” she said forcefully.

  “Oh… what happened?”

  She let out something between a laugh and a scoff. “He hit you with a sledgehammer. So…”

  I turned my head to face her. She was flicking around her wrist aimlessly. I glanced at the rats again—bewildered to hear she saved my life twice. I turned back. “Thank you…”

  Brooke laughed. “If you’re thankful: tell me if I'm alive. Don’t lie: I can figure out the truth.”

  Lie Detection.

  I didn’t answer. I wanted to know—know if she’d break my trust to use it.

  “Well?” she demanded. A full minute of silence passed. “Well? Well? Tell me! God…” She burst into tears, rubbing her eyes with her wrists. “Please… because I feel… crazy. And that’s the worst. I mean… I just killed a man. I… fuck!” She cried. “Everything’s gone wrong: Joel's dead. The person who chopped him in half is a fucking hero. My brain was bashed out. And now I'm injured. Now, there's not a single thing I can cling to except the fact that I've survived, and I don't even know if that's true! Instead, I feel like I'm mentally damaged or traumatized or schizophrenic. And…”

  Brooke hugged her knees and cried. That scene drilled itself into my temple, but I didn't know if I could help. I'd like to. It sounded like she not only saved my life, but she came to terms with the fact that I didn't kill her brother. But still—

  “You're alive,” I said, sighing. “If you have a lie detection skill, I'll even let you use it. I'll consent to that for saving my life. That said, I'm sure you know my word would be hollow.” If she used truth detection, it'd only prove whether I thought she was alive—not whether she was alive. That was the weakness of truth detection skill—what made it dangerous.

  Brooke laughed. “That's disturbingly perceptive.”

  I was offered the skill, I thought, but said nothing.

  “Is there any chance you'll tell me your class?” she asked.

  “After what we just went through? Not a chance.”

  She smiled wryly, but she didn't fight it. We just sat in silence before asking me an eerie question: “Were you summoned alone? To the Tutorial?”

  I felt cold electricity pass through me.

  “Does it matter?”

  “It does.”

  “Why?”

  “Just answer me.”

  “You want to know how strong my class is.”

  “Please,” she pleaded, and I felt I owed her for saving me not once but twice.

  “Yes, I was summoned alone,” I said. “On top of Columbia Center Tower. It was total bullshit. I finally made it out. And while I was fighting the spider, your brother shot it in the eye trying to protect me. So if you're looking for a real hero, it's him.”

  Brooke bit her lip, nodding. We fell silent for a long time. “I want to say thank you,” she said, breaking the silence. “I really do. You deserve it. I'm grateful. And yet… He was my brother. Can you imagine being friendly with someone that sliced your loved one in half? Even if it was the right thing to do, I mean… Fuck, Kyle. Just imagine it. Would you be able to do it?”

  I thought about Emily, and answered without hesitation. “I wouldn't.”

  Brooke swallowed. “I'm sorry.”

  “It's okay. Can we… Finish this out?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, let's—Wait!” I jumped to my feet, fighting off spins as I pulled up my tutorial screen.

  Tutorial: Protect the Fledglings

  Time remaining: 19:06:37

  “Five hours…” I muttered. Location!

  My sister was alive. I could tell by the green marker. That said, she wasn’t in Uwajimaya. She was five blocks north for some reason, likely a result of her running away from beasts and zombies.

  “We need to go,” I said. My brain wobbled and I stumbled. Brooke hopped up with surprising speed and caught me.

  “Hey!” she cried. “Sit down!”

  “There’s no time,” I said, grabbing my rifle. “I have to go.”

  “Why?” she snapped.

  “Because my”—

  (You killed her brother)

  —“friend’s out there. I used my information request to find her.”

  Brooke smiled darkly. “I see…” She sighed after. “Okay. Let's go.” She stumbled up and winced from the bites on her arm.

  “Can I carry you?” I asked.

  “No offense, but I'd rather die.”

  “Then die. We gotta go.”

  I tried to grab her, but she started running on her own. Good enough. Without further hesitation, I flew after her.

  ? AMAZON LAUNCH: Low-Fantasy Occultist: An Isekai LitRPG Adventure ?

  by Persimmon

  When magic is dying in one world, sometimes you get a second chance in another.

  Nicholas Crowley is used to scraping by in a world where magic is dying. The modern age has left the arcane behind, and the few remaining practitioners fight over scraps like starving dogs. But that's no longer his problem.

  While performing a ritual, something interferes, and his soul is ripped from his body. He awakens during the Class ceremony as Nick, a kid living on the frontier of the Green Ocean—a seemingly infinite expanse of trees brimming with rare ingredients and powerful creatures.

  Mana is abundant here, and the omnipresent System allows for feats he had once thought impossible. Nick receives the rare Occultist class, granting him access to forbidden knowledge and dark powers.

  And yet, not everything is as rosy as it seems. Legends walk the land, and Gods require their due.

  Will his experience as an Occultist be enough to navigate this wild new world?

  A reincarnation isekai LitRPG perfect for fans of The Beginning After the End!