"You sure you don't want to come with us?" Galayne said, as Banks stood by as they loaded the carriages with groups of people, goods and some other third thing.

  "No, I have other things to do," Banks stated. It didn't matter how far that he travelled, the time loop wouldn't discriminate, taking him back to a few days ago, unless he could resolve it. And the key to resolve it was within the city. "Hey if you were a dark, shady, evil conspiracy where would you bunker down in this city."

  "The governor's office," she said immediately.

  "True," he agreed. "Anywhere else?"

  "My dad said that across the river is where a lot of shady stuff takes place," she said. "I wasn't allowed that way, but apparently there are a few gangs and the guards don't really travel much that way."

  "Know the name of any of the gangs?" he asked, getting a shrug from the younger girl. "That's fine, there's a school I want to check out that way."

  "You never struck me as a person for formal schooling," she said, giving him a contemplating look.

  "I went to university, bitch," Banks said, getting a strange look from the younger girl.

  "You keep saying strange words, is that a verbal tic or something," she asked.

  "No it's because my translator doesn't auto translate profanity," he admitted. "I've had a few bad experiences when people believed I was propositioning them."

  "So you weren't propositioning me," she asked getting a strange look from Banks.

  "Ew, no you're like twelve," he said.

  "I'm sixteen, you bastard," she said indignantly.

  "Still below my strike zone," he admitted. "How are you leaving the city?"

  "We're heading east through the East gates," Galayne said. "The plan is to stop over at the Church of Light and replenish my mother's talisman's as well as just generally pray for good travels. Then we're heading to Denkarm?" she frowned as she spoke, evidently not thrilled to be heading that way.

  "Take this as an opportunity to practice with your new abilities," Banks said. "Maybe you'll find a way to construct a core that suits you."

  "I also hope so," she said. "Will you be still be here when I return?"

  "Probably, not," he stated. His current goal was to figure out what was causing the time loop and return to his holiday. "There's a school across the river that I'm going to check out," he said. "Good luck on your journey."

  "I also wish you good luck," she said giving him a wave goodbye, as he stepped through the gates of the manor and headed out onto the cobblestone streets of the city.

  xxx

  "That's not good," he said staring at the familiar school, now barely illuminated by the weak sunlight. Tied to the gate at structured intervals were corpses in various states of mutilation. Grimly he noticed that more than one of them bore the likeness of the city guard. Maybe Jakk was up there, torn to pieces by the Perfectly Possessed Corpse, or maybe just a random zombie or ghost if he was caught off guard. Just the thought sent a chill up his spine that was unrelated to the frigid weather. This wasn't the warmest part of the year, but even now it shouldn't get this cold. The presence of the various Ghost Domains popping up throughout the city no doubt contributed to the cold and sunless nature and since Ghost Domains tended to attract more and more ghosts, he doubted the problem would get any better.

  He gave a contemplating look at the abandoned school, before he flexed his mana feeling it choppily roil through his body reinforcing and protecting it. It felt a bit looser now and he casually tried forcing it into his fists before throwing out a punch, wincing as his knucklebones flat out exploded.

  -0.5 seconds

  Alright, that was a bad idea. Mana defense was okay but sending out a single mana pulse would probably hurt him worse then his opponent. At the moment of impact when his body should be the hardest, the clashing complexities of his mana caused the mana defense to fail causing half of the mana pulse to backlash with horrifying results.

  "Let's try it without then," he said as he strolled up towards the school, giving a nod to the corpses as he went by.

  ------

  "---let's not do that again," he said abruptly turning on his heel and heading away from the school. While the teacher zombie had been a piece of pie the Perfectly Possessed Corpse is where the problems were. While he could survive it's attacks and even fight back against it, that wave of summoning zombies would just kill him. While his, reinforced by mana, body could hold out against them, it did little for the weight of several dozen zombies. It also wasn't a perfect defense and would fail when his concentration does, his first knowledge of his inability when a grievous blow sneaked it's way through whatever hole had unknowingly appeared. Even his attempt to go classroom by classroom and clearing the school that way failed when the Perfectly Possessed Corpse, seeing no incoming zombie reinforcements, instead summoned an army of childish specters which he simply had no way to deal with at all.

  "Hey you," a rough voice came from from the frosty streets ahead and he raised his head to see a duo of rough looking men approaching him.

  "Me," he asked. "Wait, am I getting mugged?" He craned his head to look around for anybody else looking to jump him. "Hey, you two, are you mugging me." He found himself getting a bit excited, there's nothing quite like the feeling of joy in overturning an unexpected assault.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "No, our boss wants a word with you," the shorter of the two men said. "If you don't come with us, I'm afraid we're going to have to use force." His words didn't feel particularly threatening, more resigned, as if there was no choice for him in the matter. Despite their uncouth looks, they didn't feel very aggressive, closer to tamed dogs, then wild wolves.

  "Whose your boss?" he asked.

  "The head of the Five Skies gang," the shorter of the two men continued, his words clipped as if he couldn't say anymore. "Please, come with us." He repeated his words firmly.

  "Hmm," Banks said, feeling a sense of curiosity. "Lead on," the time traveler said. Putting his hands in his pockets, he followed the short man who turned and left, the taller man stepping behind him, obviously intending to cut him off if he tried to run. Not that he should be worried, there's one direction that he can escape that none of them can cut off.

  In silence the trio walked through the city that now resembled a grave town. The normally busy streets now quiet as most had retired to their own residences, or if forced to come outside, moved between buildings like startled mice, unwilling to stay outside for a second longer than usual. Not that it would help everybody. Already, in his short time moving through the Old Town he had run across four separate Ghost Domains, a truly horrifying number. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it apocalyptic.

  The persistent sound of footsteps came to a pause and he looked up to see the shorter man come to a stop in front of a Maceronin restaurant, with stained glass windows. The shorter man rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, three long taps and then two short ones and after a few moments pause the door was swung open, and the smell of smoky sour noodles assailed his nostrils. It wasn't a smell he particularly enjoyed, but enough spices and it could become very delicious indeed.

  "After you," the short man said holding open the door for him and he stepped past him and into the comparatively warm atmosphere of the Maceronin restaurant. As soon as he crossed the threshold a haunting mellow tune started, played on a lamenter flute like a funeral for the living, and he narrowed his eyes. On the far side of the room was a surprisingly authentic traditional Maceronin four man band, one that indicated the owner of the restaurant as a student of history; and thus the message was not unintended. That would have been an incredibly aggressive statement in the many duchies of Maceronin.

  His eyes swept the room before locking onto a figure sitting on a Maceronin throne, a couch large enough for a Maceronin duke and however many concubines to lie on together indulging in casual carnal activities, sometimes even in public, the perverts. However, only one person sat on the throne, an olive skinned beautiful woman who reclined on the chair, arms crossed and ankle on knee. In front of her was a glass table filled with various Maceronin appetizers, that were mostly untouched. Surrounding her with dozens of men, gang members, of various ages and appearances, but none of them seemingly lacking in grit, yet all displayed a deferential attitude towards the woman.

  "Welcome to my humble restaurant," the woman said, her voice hoarse yet with a mocking lilt. "How do you like it."

  "Surprisingly authentic," he said walking towards her, the surrounding men tensing up as he approached, although the woman didn't even flinch. "Although I do find the music a little morbid."

  "A traditional Maceronin funeral dirge," she admitted. "So you are familiar. They will continue playing until I die," she said gesturing towards the band and he looked closer, noticing a subtle stiffness in their movements before he looked at her hand and his eyes narrowed. "So if this is a showdown, at least the atmosphere will be appropriate."

  "A Psideri," he stated the obvious looking at the well-manicured hand that contained a thumb and four fingers, the little miniature one opposite the thumb being one that no other human sub-race possessed. They were the only type of human that possessed any psychic energy and their monstrous levels of the aforementioned made and inherent control over their dangerous psychic powers made them a feared threat, more than any other sub-race.

  "A Stranger," she stated right back and he nodded as it became clear. "I felt your presence as soon as you entered the Old Town, or your lack of to be precise."

  "And yet you still brought me here," he gauged. "The one type of human that negates a lot of your powers." The Strange Elements in his body were like antibodies to the weird energy and while there were workarounds and it could, in theory, be overpowered, the advantage never inherently lay with the Psideri.

  "You're hardly the most dangerous thing in the city right now," the woman said running a hand through her hair. "I've already closed five Ghost Domains since yesterday, and they're getting harder and harder for me to shut down. If it continues at this rate, then the whole city will fall. I might, I will easily, survive but none of these folks will."

  "Ah, thank you boss," one of the men, a well-groomed older man with grey hair and beard said.

  "Shut the hell up, Nick," the woman said, fingers running through well-coiffed golden hair. "I don't actually give half a crap about any of you degenerates. When I took over this gang it was to enjoy the finer things in life, not to have to run around changing your diapers. I don't want to have to go through the effort of taking over another gang in another city."

  "There are easier way to obtain that lifestyle, aren't they?" he asked, getting an irritated look.

  "Not for people like us," she said holding up her hand, displaying the five digits. "Anything legitimate will eventually run into the indisputable fact that people are pants-shittingly terrified of my kind. Although, I cannot say that they're not utterly correct to feel that way. Show of hands boys, how many of your are scared of me?" she said in a joking tone and the majority of those surrounding people raised their hands. "

  "Seems like you've got quite the reputation," Banks stated.

  "I do, don't I," she said, smiling before her smile faded and was replaced with something of terrifying iciness as her eyes swept the room. "You three didn't raise your hands, are you no longer afraid of me. Do you want to rebel?" The target of her question was three young men, still in their teens who quaked under her gaze.

  "S-ssory, new," one of them squeaked out and after a moment the atmosphere seemed to get even colder, before it dissipated.

  "Oh, you're new, that makes sense," she said nodding her head as if in understanding. "I haven't done anything to terrify you yet. That's perfectly reasonable. Then let me rectify that."

  She clicked her fingers and then a horrifying snapping sound caused all three of the young men to fall to the floor, crying in agony as they clutched their legs, white bone protruding from the skin. Surrounding gang members stepped back, obviously torn between helping and trying to stay out the line of sight of their sadistic boss.

  "Doesn't this just make them useless for a few months?" Banks asked., looking at the three men with a broken leg apiece While the punishment may be a cruel deterrent, it also took her employees off the job.

  "I have a good healer on call," the Psideri stated, calmly. "Besides I'd rather have no dog, then a dog that runs around not obeying me. Consider it my act of generosity, breaking their legs now and saving them from the fate that awaits them... if they ever even fucking THINK about disobeying me!!" For a moment, she fell silent after that, picking up a glass of some liquid and contemplating it. "But enough about my pets, let's discuss the fate of the city and why it's suddenly going to crap."