The Player is a Part-Timer

Chapter 3: Fallen, fallen, little Fallen

"Of course, it is not 100%. But judging from the expression of that Azazel guy, maybe Espers do not even exist here. And thus, most can't even detect my ability use in action without knowing what, or where to look — as they work an entirely different principle than simple magic."

Stating it, maybe the ones with supernatural senses around the town are too weak even to sense it.

Of course, the old man was different; she suspected he already started to investigate how her power works.

"Good luck to him," she chuckled internally. "I am not an idiot to leave him crack my formula that easily."

She was careless back then, leaving too much of her excess radiation — her skills usually generate — to leak freely on the scene of her arrival.

On top of that, without even covering it up, or neutralizing it. For now, Gillian was much more careful and experienced with her new body and powers; it will happen not again.

Not while she can manage to soak up the excess radiation of her passively emitted reality interfering field — also called AIM field — properly control "personal reality" — which based on her imagination, and calculated the new variables inserted in the formula of reality.

"But even so! I am slightly disappointed." while walking, the girl glanced around, waving to the people watching her from the grandstand, forcing a smile.

"According to my senses and scan of him, the old man is the strongest I meet until now, and I am sure I can fight him off even without legendary gear or activating any of my hard-hitting skills. Hell, I am sure I can beat him with only brute strength — without the use of a racial transformation."

That speaking, if that Azazel figure hides not something broken in his sleeve that may turn the tide, or call someone stronger to support him, or even manages to conceal his true power from her perception.

In that case, she may need to use her excess items and stronger gear or gadgets in her arsenal — if the situation calls for that — to overcome the challenge. Fortunately, being a hoarder, she has plenty of items to spare in her item box.

"Hmm, I wonder..."

For a moment, she glanced at her bandaged arm, then discarded the idea right away; it is too early to reveal anything that may give her an edge later. Anything "that" broken her bandaged arm hides.

"Still, most of my hoarded items I kept back in my mansion... is most likely gone!"

"Duh!" she started to sulk miserably thinking of it, giving away a depressive aura while hanging her arms on her side, only dragging herself forward.

Being inventory space was limited in the game, most players kept their excess items in banks or their rooms — if they were part of a guild — or, the wealthier ones could even buy instanced plots on the chosen realm, build their houses, castles, mansions, etc. Furniture them as they like, purchase data expansion through the in-game shop for their parcels to create NPCs.

Being she was one of the more prominent players, she had a whole mansion; many may call it a castle or a palace, equipped with a whole set of private NPCs to give it a more home-like look, even having a sizable garden assigned to it with several side buildings and a wall which kept out the invaders — well, most of the times.

"It was costly, but I finished that project under a few months..."

She grinned for a moment, remembering her creation proudly!

Indeed, many players found their death here, either in their attempt to steal from her — killed by her two guardian NPCs and their guard squad — or hunted down by her as the game logged the invaders who entered unauthorized to private areas.