Divine Celebrity 156 (Patreon)

As I faced my System’s request for my Intent, I decided that breaking into a public library was an acceptable risk when compared to twiddling my thumbs, and waiting for an opportunity. Hopefully, with a computer, I would be able to solve that problem quickly… 

Luckily, while the System had indicated some damage, there was no drop when it came to my abilities, and breaking into a library was far easier than escaping from a military zone. A little parkour climb, a little lock picking, and I was looking at a public computer, excited to go to the internet. 

Only to freeze in shock. 

The internet was gone. 

Well, not entirely gone, just significantly limited. There was no social media, no easily streamable movies, and nothing that required a lot of bandwidth. The news sites were still accessible but they were far more barebones…

The reason for it wasn’t hard to discover. There were several news that were talking about attacks on the fiber underground cables that handled most of the information flow. 

“That’s not good,” I growled, realizing that, with the social media gone, I had lost my biggest tool to quickly farm Intent. 

Still, poking around the news sites was an option; or at least, that was what I thought as I started to check the internet protocols that managed the security, only to find them completely changed. 

They were far more secure, and far easier to track. With my Divine Mind working at full speed, I processed the implications of those changes, and realized that hacking had turned into a near impossibility. 

The implications were dangerous but understandable. In a world where people could turn attention and worship into magical power, the internet and social media have been dangerous weapons. 

Someone had removed that weapon from the table, using terrorism as an excuse. 

Of course, understandably didn’t mean acceptable. It ruined my whole plan. 

I tried my best to go through all readily available information on the new state, trying to understand what I could do. Unfortunately, they had been very careful. Even the simplest bread and butter of the digital world, the mass spam email, had been blocked due to the protocol changes.

“I need to find a different path,” I murmured, soon coming to my first, and probably the most important dilemma. 

Should I ditch my identity and create a new one, or find a way to explain my long absence. 

Ditching my identity and creating a new one, maybe as a very active hero was tempting … on the surface. After all, the path was clear. Save a few kittens, pose a few times for local news, and that was it.

Unfortunately, while the world of heroes looked wild and uncontrolled, with all the information I had, I knew better. It was clear that some secret organizations like the Ancient Brotherhood or some other entities that knew about the return of the magic had been preparing for a long time. 

Assuming they wouldn’t react to the sudden appearance of a new hero was a risky proposition. 

Which brought me back to my real identity, which was surprisingly viable. Especially since at least two organizations knew about the existence of my abilities — very limitedly — and yet didn’t do anything other than one aborted attempt to kidnap me. 

Add in my local celebrity status that could help me to get some exposure which could give me an advantage, showing myself looked like the better option. More importantly, even if my local celebrity status was forgotten, I could pull many more tricks if I wasn’t completely trying to my identity. 

Of course, it was risky, but no more riskier than trying to hide my identity. Without the System’s urgent request of Intent for maintenance, I might have measured the risks of the two situations differently. In that case, staying hidden while I worked slowly and steadily would have been the better option. 

But there was no point in thinking in hypotheticals. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, and I had nothing to change that fact. 

At least, I could always try to escape if that didn’t work. 

“Now, let’s go find a reason for disappearing for years,” I said as I poked around the city map, registering the changes while I tried to find a good reason. “Why ignore the classics,” I murmured as my gaze fell on a certain building. 

A hospital. 

I left the library behind even as I tried to decide the best way to explain such a situation. Staying in a coma for years was a nice, convincing story for the public. The secret organizations might poke a bit more about that, but considering they treated me as mostly inconsequential even then, I hoped that I wouldn’t be important enough to get on their radar. 

Of course, that required to have a good story — which could be created by some hacking. 

Not through the internet, as that path was frustratingly blocked, but luckily, the computers were still in use, and that meant I could still go and create some physical reports. 

My first target was an empty apartment that I could break into easily. A quick shower and a change of clothes later, I was moving through the dark streets far more confidently, wearing a baseball cap to keep my face hidden from the security cameras. 

Then, I went to the biggest hospital in the city, which was, unfortunately, far more crowded than I would have preferred, the corridors were filled with nurses and doctors, even the record room and archive, making sneaking in a challenge. 

My first objective was the digital records, which was easy. I changed into a patient gown and put on a mask before I started walking around, searching for a computer. 

Any computer. Internet security might have changed radically, but ironically, that made the network security for linked computers even weaker. Some of the security issues were truly glaring. Remotely accessing the computer of a doctor was easy. 

I started reading through the files of the coma patients, and at the same time, I wrote an extended story for myself, one that said that I had been discovered during the terrorist attack, near the stadium, but with serious head trauma. Then, I was transported to a hospital — a different one —  with a request for identification … one that had never received a response from the police despite five different requests with no follow-up. 

Of course, adjusting the digital timestamps on those reports was the true challenge, but luckily, the lapsing security measures made it very easy. Twenty minutes later, I was the proud owner of a credible fake history. 

Admittedly, it was very close to the truth with one exception. I was not buried under rubble in a military-restricted zone. 

A little more poking around, and soon, I had a convincing story that could trick anyone unless they really went deep. Unfortunately, that was not something I could solve. All they would need to do was to send a private investigator to talk with one of the doctors on the report, and would know the truth. 

Still, it should be enough for my purposes. With the world in its current state, it should be enough. If it didn’t work I might try to reach Thad or Arthur depending on the situation … but hopefully, it wouldn’t be necessary. 

I rather not rely on anyone else. My System was already giving me all the unpredictability I was willing to handle and more. 

After that was complete, I created a few new reports, including one transfer report that showed a nameless patient just being admitted and waiting for a room assignment. With that done, I created a detailed paper record as well, but kept that with me rather than trying to sneak it to the archive. 

Then, I added one last spike that temporarily disabled the cameras that were observing the cameras that were keeping corridors I planned to use under observation, and then moved there. Avoiding the gazes of the nurses while I stole a small bracelet was easy. I filled that with my patient number, and hung the paper chart that showed my supposed situation to the head of my bed. 

And lay on the bed, seemingly unconscious. 

A minute later, a nurse arrived at my side. “Huh, was there a patient there,” she murmured, but after checking my chart, she shrugged and took a step away, clearly too exhausted to actually care about the situation. 

Just like that, the first step of my plan was complete.