The king did not take being called a piece of shit too well. Neither did the sword saint who instantly appeared in front of me, with her sword to my throat. Radiant white hair and flawless skin; her beauty was no joke.

  "Now, now. There is no need to go so far," the king said, making her retract her blade and walk back to his side. "You say there is a certain … creature that destroyed your planet. But, pardon me if this sounds too insensitive, but different worlds have different problems. Why would they follow you here?"

  I did indeed not have any concrete proof, but I couldn't exactly say it was my intuition telling me that creature was going to follow me. "It is searching for a god that wanders between the planets. The Wandering God, she … they called it. If none of your priest summoned me here, then it has to be this god. I think they tried to save me somehow."

  The throne room grew eerily silent. I looked around confused. Finally one of the kings advisors step foreward to explain why everyone were silent. "The Wandering God is the name of our planets deity. They … moved our planet with the help of otherworlders they summoned to protect us from a certain calamity. That is why they allow us to summon so many otherworlders: to help us."

  The king rose from his throne. "And you are the one that is leading the calamity straight to us. For that: you will be punished!"

  - Rachel, the twice summoned

  "An otherworlder? No way! Why hasn't anyone killed it yet?"

  The male soldier at the center shook his head. "I heard they are trying to be careful about it to avoid too many people dying."

  "Being careful?" Someone exclaimed. "Last time an otherworlder appeared 8 people died. Don't they remember: you can never trust an otherworlder."

  "That's true. I thought the Commander was different from the church, but it looks like even she can't be trusted."

  Tom gulped and headed straight for Alice's office, running up all the stairs and finding her shifting through documents on her desk.

  He didn't bother with the pleasantries. "Everyone knows there is an otherworlder in the camp!"

  Alice didn't look up. "Indeed."

  "Oh no, how in the world could they have found out?" Trash hummed. "Oh well. Better kill them all to hide your secret. That would be interesting to watch."

  Tom ignored Trash. "Aren't you going to do anything? If someone finds out it's me, I could get executed." Why wasn't she taking this more seriously?

  "Don't worry, Tom. I doubt that otherworlder is you from what I have heard. It sounds like a feral."

  "A feral?"

  She stretched up her arms and yawned. "You are what one would call a new otherworlder. The feral ones are remnants of dead otherworlders."

  "Remnants of dead otherworlders?" Tom repeated.

  She nodded. "They appear sometimes, filled with hatred over their fate, ghost of the past. But you have no need to worry about them. The feral otherworlder will be promptly dealt with."

  That explanation still made no sense to Tom. How could the ghosts of dead otherworlder suddenly come to life again, and were they really as dangerous as the other soldiers made them out to be? "I don't—."

  "That reminds me," she interrupted. Reaching into her drawer, she put a fist-sized glass sphere on the table. "Since there are no observers in the camp to train you, I sent a letter to the capital to request for something that might help. They sent me this: an observer orb."

  It was a glass sphere with a rainbow-colored sphere in the middle. "It looks kind of like a soul gem?"

  She raised her eyebrows. "You have seen one?"

  Tom scratched his head. "Erm. I saw one at the witches store. That's right. That reminds me, this witch Meliel sponsored paying for my gloves saying she knew you. She wants to talk to you; I was supposed to tell you a week ago but forgot. Also, I ordered this adjustment to a glove I need in order to wield Trash properly, so could you pay the fee?"

  Her face was expressionless. "Alright, I will forward the message to the treasurer. As for Meliel, I will see if I have time." She coughed. "Anyways, this orb is a tool that mirrors the aura of its surroundings."

  "Mirrors its aura. But like, can't I already sense auras since I am an observer?"

  "You can, but the quality of the aura depends on your own understanding. Speaking of that, have you learned about the Ley Line?"

  "No."

  "Common people do not know about it, but as an otherworlder there is no need to keep secrets from you. It is a consistent stream of spirits flowing here from the elven forest, across the Void, toward the World-Rune in the capital."

  "A stream of spirits? But—. God this is confusing. Aren't spirits like manifestations of reality and supposed to be everywhere?"

  She nodded. "How close they are to our realm of understanding also differs. Some significant spirits can be so small and unnoticeable that I doubt you, or any observer for that matter, will ever be able to notice them. Spirits are actually the more easily observable where they are more readily required to reinforce reality. The spirits that flow in from the Ley Line make it extremely easy to recover mana in this kingdom, and are of a more malleable nature. Distant enough that you won't randomly die from a fire spirit moving past you, but close enough to easily be attracted to your desires."

  "I think I understand. And you said it flows across the Void? That must be a massive amount of spirits."

  She nodded. "It is. Spirits are attracted by desire, and the human kingdoms contain plenty of it, the World-Rune being one of several manifestations of that." She picked up the orb. "According to the letter I was sent, inside this orb there is a small soul gem containing a lesser ranked mirror spirit. It is a type of spirit that reflects whatever the surroundings show. Around it is a type of glass that slows down the light the mirror spirit reflects, showing a long-lasting reflection of the surrounding auras. Using this you can see the surrounding aura with a higher quality and thereby improve your capabilities."

  "Cool. So I can compare my own aura sight with a better version."

  "Precisely. You should be able to reset the observer orb by observing the mirror spirit — I'll let you figure that one out yourself."

  He took the observer orb from her hand and stared at it. This would be a good use of his time while waiting for his glove to be finished. "Thank you."

  "It's nothing. And I must say, I am impressed how you managed to find and defeat a demon spy amid our ranks. To be honest, my expectations weren't all that high from our world's history with otherworlders. But you seem to be doing better than expected. Perhaps you will be able to confront the demon king after all."

  Fart. Tom had accidentally found a second demon spy, but he had no intention of looking enthusiastic about joining a war. At this rate, his EPIC ADVENTURE would slip from his grasp.

  He coughed. "I know that I might seem to progress a lot, but I do not think this is enough. Is there any way for me to leave the camp and take a short visit to the capital? I heard that practically every observer is there, so it will be much easier to get stronger if I get help from one of them. I also learned about those rings around my aura and even managed to produce one. It won't be long until I reach the first Breakthrough."

  She nodded. "You aren't wrong. But I am afraid I cannot fulfill your request, even if I want to. The king is very strict about the enlistment. And Tomassio, whom you are impersonating, was quite the — let's say unique individual. He managed to skip the enlistment once, but just like myself the children of Dukes need to enlist to contain discontent."

  "No way! Are you sure there is no other way?"

  "Perhaps…Perhaps if you managed to accomplish something significant, the king might invite you to the capital for a short celebration?"

  "Something big? Like defeating a feral otherworlder?"

  She shook her head. "No matter what, do not do that. Ferals are not as easy to defeat as you might think. They are like an overtly intelligent error beast with no physical restraints." She sighed. "You know what, I will try to send a letter to the king. Perhaps if I write that you are constantly complaining, and of your achievement of finding the demon spy, then you might get an audience."

  Tom sighed. "Alright then. I won't look for the feral otherworlder."

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Tom was definitely looking for the feral otherworlder.

  ***

  Alice sat back in her seat, looking at the ceiling sprinkled with mirror shards. According to observers, auras consist of several layers mirroring their own understanding of reality. Knowing that she became extra fond of mirrors. They reflected back exactly what everyone could see. That suited her better.

  She stared down at the letter on her desk. It was a formal letter from the king saying that Tomassio Rossi could return any time he wished. The letter was sent a few days after Tom arrived.

  Someone knocked on the door, and Alice quickly tore the letter apart and hid it in one of her drawers. "Enter."

  Zev walked into the room, not bothering to do his usual courtesy. "Are you sure about this? I can easily get rid of the feral. Just say the word."

  Alice sight. "Why the cold feet? Weren't you the one who wanted to kill Tom the moment he arrived in this world?"

  "Yes, but—."

  "Tom is an otherworlder. He will be able to deal with the feral if he comes across it."

  "And if he dies?"

  She leaned foreward, putting both her elbows on her desk. "Then he is dead." Zev winched, prepared to come with another retord, but she cut him off. "You always tell me to make the though decisions. This is one of them. An ugly, but potentially rewarding experiment."

  "He is just a child."

  "He is an adult," she hissed, glaring at Zev. "I was a child, was I not, when you brought me back? Is your morality only saved for otherworlders?"

  "That isn't…" Zev looked down. "I understand." Then he left her office.

  ***

  Misha gave Tom another strange look. "I still cannot belive how you became interested in joining the cleaners elective all of the sudden."

  Tom scratched his head. "I figured it was a good way to explore the camp some more."

  She shrugged. "If you say so. But it is not going to be easy work. Pick up that bucket and follow."

  Tom did as he said. Since there were occasional trash bins in the narrow alleyways, he walked a few steps behind her.

  "Erm. Have you heard the rumor by the way? There is a feral in the camp."

  She stopped in her tracks and turned. "You are trying to find the feral aren't ya."

  Tom shook his head. "No, no. I—."

  She sighed. "Don't think you are the only one. We all have heard so much about these otherworlders and the destruction they brought; wanting to see an otherworlder yourself is understandable. But listen: a feral is only a ghost, a mirage, something that is long dead. And the dead are not to be easily trifled with."

  "Uh, huh."

  "You understood none of that did you?"

  Tom nodded. "But you won't judge, right? So, I will follow you, and if we see some traces of a feral we can take a short break. I promise that I will call for help if I see one. My equipment is being fixed so I would be stupid to start a fight."

  "If you say so."

  Being a trash collector was surprisingly quaint. Moving through the several alleyways inside Makeshift Town, they picked up the trash. Occasionally they moved into the main road and had to practically fight against the robots to get the trash bags from them. Before he knew it, several hours had gone by.

  Tom learned surprisingly a lot about cleaning. Picking up trash bags wasn't everything, they had to watch out for the concentration of spiritual energy in the trashcans. The Ley Line was a blessing, where people could regenerate their mana more easily, but the quantity of their waste needed to be taken care of.

  "So, the existence of a trash spirit is theoretically possible."

  Misha shrugged. "Yes. But it is not something we want to encourage." She pointed the radar, which she mentioned was made by an observer to detect the concentration of spiritual energy, at a nearby pile of trash. "Mana poisoning is no joke. It is easier to deal with it in the capital so close to the World-Rune, but I have seen people not bothering to throw away trash have their aura clogged with mana and almost lose their life."

  Intriguing. He hadn't felt this mana sickness since he arrived in this world. Had to be because the mana cost for using [stabilize] was too low. Perhaps he should spam his skills and find out how far he could last? Or maybe not. Having mana sickness did not sound easy.

  "Why work in this elective, all alone, if there there is a constant possibility to get sick?"

  She pointed at the cloth around her mouth. "That is why we are wearing these. Cloth made from demon horns that absorbs contaminated mana. If enough precautions are made, then there is no need to worry."

  Demon remains? Sierra wasn't going to like that. "But you are basically spending most of your time as a trash collector. Why not go for something better?"

  "You might think of me as a poor dumb commoner, but I am actually a taught engineer."

  "I didn't mean it that way," Tom fumbled.

  She smiled. "Don't worry. Sierra told me of your … interests. Wanting to be extraordinary is cool. I was actually the same way, but when I was forced to become a soldier, it thought: why not try something new? Someone had to do this job. The engineers guild did not like my decision, but being a trash collector has been much more interesting then I thought. I am in constant contact with my former coworkers back at the capital, and together we try to improve the technology around preventing mana poisoning."

  He scratched his head. "And what if all your hard work ends up being in vain?"

  She shrugged. "Then I at least did something I found interesting."

  They arrived at another trash bin and got to work. Although, he wasn't going to spend his whole life doing this, the repetition of emptying the trash bin felt calming. He could see why Misha enjoyed it. When they had made sure there was no contamination present, they moved on to the next alleyway.

  They began picking up the trash around the barracks, and then the central parts of Makeshift Town. Now they were approaching the part of town closer to the Void, and the quality of the infrastructure was vastly different.

  Walking past a wall he noticed something odd. It looked like something had been carved into the stone, but the letters were too smudged to be intelligible. He put his hand on the carving, and he sensed a sudden surge of fear. Retracting his hand, he gulped. The sensation was just like when he had tried observing the green Sonata and felt a sensation of heaviness.

  Closing his eyes he tried to sense the auras around him. "[see area]." The faint silhouette of the alleyways and trashcans, some filled with a mixture of colors — excess clumps of spiritual energy he guessed. Focusing on the wall in front of him he did indeed see that the color was different from the wall. Again, the color did not match like with lesser spirits, but this one was an ugly mixture of colors. Like a painter going crazy and quickly painting something with random strokes.

  Focusing on those colors, not on the individual ones but by stereotyping the whole, he moved closer and touched it. Immediately he felt the same sensation of fear, but this time accompanied by a voice.

  "HE IS COMING! HELP! ANYONE! THE SPIRITS AREN'T LISTENING TO ME ANYMORE."

  ***

  Zev walked to the site and looked at the carvings. "Don't worry, I don't think anyone is in need of help."

  "How can you be sure?" Tom asked.

  "Memento."

  "… What?"

  "You have heard about the Mirror Maiden have you not? Her Babylons Blessing allows all languages to be understood, however, those that require context and emotions are not as easily translatable. The otherworlders, to create a language of their own, commonly used a technique called Memento. It entails using mirror spirits to show a reflection of their emotions to convey a message. I recon this message was left behind when the Hero went around and hunted otherworlders … It was quite gruesome."

  Tom sighed. "So just graffiti left by dead people, huh?"

  Someone laughed from behind Zev. The scantily clad woman walked towards them with a smug expression. "You sure are a master at wasting people's time. And working as a trash collector? The people in the capital are going to love this one. How does it feel to—."

  "Who are you again?"

  She gaged. "I am Hilda the Deathspear. How did you already forget about me?"

  Tom shrugged. "You must not be important enough."

  "Why you!"

  He turned towards Misha. "Sorry about this. We are going to have to work longer because of me."

  Misha shook her head. "No worries. None. I usually would have had to work another day without help. Also, it is kind of my fault. I always ignored those carvings and didn't bother to ask questions about them. You live and you learn, I guess."

  "Sorry to you as well, Zev."

  Zev laughed. "Don't be like that. You're an observer! If there is anyone in this camp who is supposed to ask questions about spirits, then it is you." He coughed. "Anyways, I would like to remind you to be careful if encountering a feral otherworlder."

  "How — did you talk to Alice?"

  He nodded. "You are allowed to be outside with miss Misha here, but other soldiers and inhabitants have been discouraged to venture out too idly during this time. I am actually going around with a few other high-ranking soldiers that visited from the capital to locate the feral."

  "By high-ranking soldier he is talking about me," Hilda added.

  Tom rolled his eyes. "How are you going to be helpful? If anything you would creep it out and make it keep its distance from you."

  "Hey! I am a royal knight." He smirked, brushing away her hair, and revealing two small animal ears. "And my father was a beastkin from the south-eastern continent. My sense of hearing is several magnitudes more superior than yours," she bragged. "I do want to go home and visit, but my expertise is needed here, so."

  Tom turned towards Zev. "How do I remove these messages?"

  "Don't ignore me, you—!"

  "You can't," Zev answered. He scratched his beard. "Perhaps you theoretically could in the future, if you progress long enough, but it would be a waste of resources. Just leave them be as a reminder of the past. Who knows, perhaps you will learn something interesting from one of them? Learning about how emotions and messages are attached to them will make it easier to learn about middle and higher grade spirits."

  "Speaking of those. Could you explain about—."

  Hilda moved in front of Tom. "No time for chitchats. Sir Zev, don't let this fool distract you. We should focus on finding the otherworlder."

  "Yes!" Zev said. "Otherworlder. Let's scram, now!"

  "Now?" She asked confused. "You became so enthusiastic all of the—." Zev glared at her and she immediately saluted. "Yes sir."

  After they had left the alleyway, Tom sighed. He could still feel the sensation of fear the otherworlder had left behind. Him having repeatedly sensed it to make sure did not help him forget about it easier, even if he knew he wasn't in any need to fear anything right now. He was always so bad at hiding away his own emotions. Now he had to deal with other people's emotions?

  Misha handed him a bottle of water. "Drink some water. I also do not have a specific combat class — a scavenger actually, and it does not do wonders for one's mental state."

  Tom took the bottle and chugged water. "Thanks."

  "Keep the bottle. Put it in the satchel to avoid contamination." She picked up her belongings. "The best way calm the mind is focusing on some good old practical work. Let's get back to it."

  ***

  Hiro wanted to scream.

  Sierra had reassured him that Tom had picked up the book, and gone out of her way to mention that he should show it to no one, but this was Tom they were talking about. He did the usual expressionless goodbye, and as soon as she was out of sight, ran as fast as he could back towards the barracks.

  His heart was racing the entire time, and when he arrived back in the dorm his hand reached towards it. Touching the katana he used endorsement to make all his worries disappear. Finally, with a clearer mind, he sighed, reminded of his stupidity.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  He opened it and found Timmy standing on the other side. "Are you alright, Hiro? You ran straight to your room."

  "Don't worry. I think I might have … caught a mild dose of mana poisoning."

  Timmy's eyes widened. "That sounds horrible. It must be from that noble Tomassio, too used to maids cleaning up all of his trash. I am sorry you have to deal with him."

  Hiro scratched his ears, feeling an uncomfortable breeze. "It is mild, so I will be fine." When Timmy's eyes moved upwards, he realized his mistake.

  "So rare to see your ears. You know I think they are—."

  Hiro slammed the door shut and ran back to the katana.

  "Hiro? Are you sure you're alright? I'm sorry, I … I will just leave you alone."

  Hiro did not let his tight grip against the katana go until he was sure Timmy had left. This was all because of Tom. Just because of that one incident he mustered up the courage to avoid bringing the katana with him everywhere, but his emotions were killing him. Tom was always asking and doing the weirdest stuff, pursuing … it was distracting him.

  He heard something flutter by the window. "That's a bad habit you picked up, brother."