Immortal Freeloader 9 (Patreon)

“… and, you need to be really careful about how to hold your knife. Never let your finger leave on the path of the blade. Always pay attention to the fire,” Marana, the mysteriously strong food stall owner explained as she tried to teach me to cook. 

It had been a week since I returned to Dumassa, and my life had fallen into a routine. I visited the stalls in the morning for breakfast, then went near the gates, looking for work, usually to unload the grain or load furs. The kind of unskilled work that earned a few copper coins, not even enough to actually pay for my food. 

However, working for a lot of odd jobs meant that no one really knew about how much I earned, so it explained the extra silver or two I earned by disguising myself as a beggar from the nearby passing carts. Though, during that, I understood the rules of the System more. 

One experiment showed that — which I started by dropping some money to the path of a caravan before going to beg, to see if it would make them extra — if I gave anything that was given to me by the System to someone, it created some kind of deficit, and prevented the rewards until it was accumulated again. 

Worse, that stopped the System completely until I accumulated enough to compensate for it directly. 

In contrast, I could give the things that triggered the gift away without punishment. However, they didn’t trigger the reward again if they were given to me again. No infinite gift loops. 

Afternoons, I spent practicing Initiate chapter of Tiger Fist. At first, it was more to put on a show for Marana than to expect anything. After all, I had already learned the punches, and there were limited benefits I could gain without a sparring partner to help me learn the more practical aspects. 

It didn’t take long for me to realize that I was wrong. I had already learned that increasing cultivation allowed me to understand the mysteries better … but after a while, I realized that practicing the Initiate Stage punches also had the same impact. 

The more I practiced the simple katas, the better I understood the poems … and the stronger my punches got. 

Without using more essence.

It was not the only benefit. 

Marana was not a talkative person, but she was nice, always adding a few extra skewers to each meal. After a week, I had almost fifty Mortal Middle-Grade skewers in my Inventory. I had eaten one of them to test, and it gave me enough essence to barely support three Tiger Ascent punches, but digesting them took mere minutes.

It was likely because they were not made of savage meat. The benefit from the quality in terms of the total energy was limited. Still, it was more than enough to keep me full for a long while. 

Similarly, begging in disguise allowed me to grow a nice egg nest to move to Markas. It was a place with more money, more resources, and stronger people that could trigger higher multipliers. As much as I liked the nice little corner I had, working as an odd-job worker and living in a cave in the wilderness was not my ideal life. 

It was why, yesterday morning, I took the risk and asked her to teach me how to cook. Naturally, the risk was she started asking me to work for her in exchange for more food, which would ruin the nice multiplier effect. Today was the second cooking lesson. 

Knowing how to cook would help me move around. “That’s enough for today. I still need to prepare for the lunch rush. Go to your work.” 

[Cultivation Difference Bonus - 20; Pity Bonus - 30 (Capped)]

[50x Return - Cooking Technique Lesson, Ordinary, Minor Accomplishment]

[50x Return - Cooking Technique Lesson, Savage Meat, Beginner]

A second set of lessons joined the first one in my System, but I let them linger. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to hide the sudden jump of ability and reveal something. I wanted to store a few of them and activate when necessary. 

Though, receiving two distinct lines was unexpected. It was the second time I was receiving that, but I still didn’t know why lessons worked that way. 

After visiting the outer gates for an hour, I disappeared and changed into my beggar clothes, run some distance away from the town — still annoyed that I could run a hundred meters in three seconds, while I spent two years to drop from 10.02 to 9.98 before my injury — and started searching for a caravan. 

Then, I saw another group. This time, it was not a cart, but three men on horseback, traveling at a leisurely pace. They looked strong, but they were clearly not caravan guards. They dressed too expensively for that. 

“Jackpot,” I said as I smirked. They looked rich enough to throw a silver or two to a poor traveler. However, I didn’t rush toward them immediately, but pulled another set of clothes from the System space — I asked for some clothes during my begging, so I had five sets ready to be used — and changed. 

There was a reason for that change, a lesson that I learned a long time ago. People empathized with people they could understand. A poor person pitied a homeless person because he knew he was just a bounced check away from the same fate, while a rich person just treated as lazy vermin. 

A down-on-his-luck scholar had a much better chance. 

Once I changed and cleaned my face somewhat, I went to the road, and started walking, still with a walking stick to act wounded. Though, I changed the bandage so I had a sprained ankle rather than an infected wound. I walked the opposite side, as I didn’t want to take the risk of entangling with them. 

I strolled, and soon, they made a turn, appearing in front of me. “Fellow traveler, may I take a moment of your time,” I called before they even got closer, once again changing my accent, this time using a posh one. 

“Of course,” they said, their expression alight with surprise. “How can we help you?” 

“I was just going to ask if you have seen a carriage being pulled by four horses from the direction you came from,” I asked. Another deliberate trick, as carriages being pulled with horses rather than oxen was apparently a status symbol, and I carefully attached myself to it. 

“No, we did not,” they answered. 

I sighed. “I really should learn to gamble better,” I muttered, like I was speaking to myself, but loud enough for them to catch me. 

“It looks like there’s a story,” one of them said. 

“Nothing much, I am afraid. I gambled, my teacher decided a scholar shouldn’t gamble, and taught me a lesson. He tasked me to either catch up with them, or return to the city by myself.” 

The scholar part was deliberate. Apparently, most kingdoms here had some kind of central examination to assign government workers, and their status wasn’t too low. Not as high as actual rich people or martial artists, but enough to be treated as human rather than nuisance. 

“Did he broke your leg to slow you down?” 

I sighed. “That part is my stupidity, I’m afraid. I tried to take a shortcut through the forest, and didn’t notice a rabbit hole until it was too late. It was why I’m trying to catch up with them.” 

“Can’t you just ride a horse?” one of them suggested. “A gold or two should be enough to buy one that wouldn’t keel over.”  

I sighed even deeper, and patted my sides, showing my lack of money. “I’m afraid my teacher is clever enough to prevent that, and took my money pouch.” 

“Ouch, I hate when teachers get clever,” one of them said. “You know what, since it’s fate that brought us to you…” he said, reached his pouch, and flicked a gold coin toward me. It landed right in front of me, and I looked at him, shocked. “Come on, fellow traveler, it’s just a coin,” he said dismissively, nothing to be worried about. 

I took a deep breath, trying to look like I was affected by their generosity. The truth was more dangerous. As he flicked the coin in a showy manner, I recognized something in the way he acted. 

He was proficient in Tiger Fist.  

“It might not be a lot of money, but it’s the intent that matters,” I said, trying to hide my fear. I rattled a few common phrases from this new world about snow and charcoal until they looked satisfied with their achievement. “I better not keep you from your travel,” I said. 

“Take care, and be careful while gambling, they chuckled. While they rode away slowly, I leaned down, picked the gold coin he threw my way. 

[Cultivation Difference Bonus - 30; Pity Bonus - 5]

[35x Return - 3 Gold Piece, 5 Gold Coin]

The money I had received was supposed to be a merry occasion, giving me the capital I needed to survive in an expensive city. Their identity changed everything. 

The moment they disappeared, I went into the forest, changed into my daily clothes while considering what to do. I knew that learning their Martial Arts was a problem — though I still didn’t know about the scale of it — so their presence meant nothing.

The smartest thing was to just disappear. But also, it would mean that Marana had no warning about their presence. Maybe they were coming to help her … but maybe not. Worse, the System showed that his cultivation was higher, and they had the numbers. 

 I might be a Freeloader with some very loose ethical guidelines, but putting someone that helped me into mortal danger was not one of them. 

I needed to warn her. 

My journey back was even faster, as I had burned some of my precious Essence to move even faster. The more I pushed myself, the faster I got … and I felt like I was deciphering some kind of new martial arts, one that allowed me to run faster. Unfortunately, I was too tense to properly focus on that sensation. 

 Once I arrived at the outskirts of the town, I slowed down, not wanting to get everyone’s attention by dashing desperately. I directly went to her stall. 

“Hungry already—” she started, then caught my expression. 

I did nothing to hide my nervousness. “Can I ask you a hypothetical question?” I asked. 

“Yes,” she said. 

I considered trying to stay indirect, but after some consideration, I decided against. The situation might be too urgent. “Theoretically, if I had stumbled across a martial arts book in the forest, and learned it, how much of trouble I would be in?” I asked. 

“Well, not much as long as you keep it to yourself,” she started. 

“And, what if a few disciples of that Martial Art were currently traveling to the town?” I asked, and she tensed. 

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice filled with distress and shock. 

I was about to tell her a story about a guard recognizing it, but I decided against it. “They are a couple of hours away unless they moved faster. I borrowed a horse to get away,” I said, confirming I had seen it myself, though fibbing my capabilities a bit. 

No need to reveal too much in case they were not her enemies, but her expression left no doubt about it. 

“You need to disguise yourself and run. They will kill you if they realize it,” she said. 

Which answered my question about just how serious of an issue it was. 

Very.