Bob sat down in Discovery’s kitchen and served himself a cup of kuftis, the Beli equivalent of coffee. It was surprisingly thick and sweet on the palate, and gave an invigorating rush of energy that lasted for most of the day.

  He conceded that their coffee was better than ours. Their tea, however, tasted as if he were licking grass from a lawnmower’s blades.

  “They can’t win at everything, I guess,” he thought.

  Bob breathed slowly and tried to order his thoughts. The last time he had been able to do this was when he was first exploring his powers, just before meeting Jenna.

  He had been in crisis mode ever since, even during the brief periods he dedicated to creating new Perks.

  They had always been tools to face imminent danger, never ends in themselves. If he wanted to survive what was coming, he needed to understand them properly.

  The war was at an impasse. For now, they were stuck waiting—always the worst position to be in.

  They had no idea what had happened to Andara. Boral was supposed to be hiding somewhere along with the Boss Cores he had stolen and four hundred of his followers.

  Jenna had used her cognitive powers to calculate the most likely outcome. They had probably gone somewhere remote, far from the Beli dungeons, waited for the Essence they emitted to condense into a rank-one dungeon, then taken it over, using it as a hidey hole.

  The new world was an age of miracles, and you could hide an army anywhere if you were willing to get your hands dirty.

  Boral would not be found unless he wanted to.

  Bob went to the balcony and gazed upon Belona—Old Belona, as the Beli were calling it now.

  Despite the ruins, the glitching magi-tech, and the abandoned buildings, it possessed an ancient dignity that New Belona lacked.

  He hoped that the Beli, dazzled by the return of Bounty and their new, shiny city, did not forget their roots.

  Bob went back to his room and sat at his desk. The gift of the Arcanic Boss was still fresh in his mind. He had to take a fresh look at his powers in a rational, ordered manner, but first, there was an important question to be answered. He needed to know how much time he had to develop them.

  He had discussed the subject with Jenna, who told him she had enough control over her body's energies to halt her own aging.

  She could even reverse it if she set her mind to it. Repairing cells wasn't so different from mending bones, especially when Jenna was the one doing it. Unfortunately, the process was so demanding that she could not use it on others.

  Each new body that Billy respawned in his basic shape was an exact copy of the one he had when he first respawned. The only way Billy could age was by deliberately choosing respawns based on older models.

  That left him as the only candidate for the nursing home. He had to know how long his team could depend on him. He had to know how much time he had left.

  He closed his eyes and summoned his Skill Screen.

  Then he made a first attempt at a rank-one perk. It was surprisingly easy.

  Rotate your Base (Fatigue Resistance 1): By meditating deeply and rotating your cultivation base for six hours, you can halt aging for the rest of the day.

  He drank an experience tonic and created two more advanced versions of the same perk.

  The rank two perk required only one hour of meditation. The third rank perk needed only five minutes

  He would not age, as long as he meditated for a few minutes each day.

  He could optionally meditate for a full day and gain more than three months of immunity to aging.

  He was going to be fifty-three for a long, long time, and that answered his question.

  How much time did he have left? If he did not get killed, he had all the time in the world.

  He wondered how Pob had felt when he found out he was immortal.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Then, he remembered how much he leaned on Vlas when his loved ones died of old age.

  Beliza had told him that tale. It was not something Pob liked to talk about.

  He at least had Billy and Jenna. He hoped it would be enough.

  He steeled his mind, trying to drive away all distractions and concentrate on the matter at hand—he was not using his powers to their full extent.

  Being a Loser was about finding loopholes. The most blatant example was Billy using a minor piece of magic intended for aesthetic purposes and turning it into a powerful mystical tool. that fused nineteen different dungeons.

  He had previously achieved a similar result with minor alchemy, discovering a very effective painkiller that rendered him immune to the headaches associated with the perk design process.

  Those headaches served a purpose, acting as a counterbalance to an excessively flexible system.

  If he had carried a Nerf module, as all original Panteans did in their hives or wherever insect people lived, it would likely have introduced some restrictions once Bob started abusing the system. His magical ibuprofen would have diminishing returns, or nasty side effects, or whatever.

  But he could not be nerfed. Any exploit he discovered while using his powers would remain a part of them forever.

  That was the right mindset. He had tried to be Gandalf. He could not think like a wizard.

  He had to think like a lawyer, the dirtiest, most brilliant, most dishonest lawyer he could think of. Forget Gandalf. Better call Saul.

  He breathed deeply and recalled Sandy’s lessons in Alchemy. Avatars had functional magic items, but they required the combination of two Competences: one to craft them and another to use them. Not all crafters could use their own products, and a minority of users could craft them. The final result was both flexible and expensive.

  He recalled his earlier attempts at crafting, a long time ago, when he had carved the Wand of Summer. He had managed to shave off a complete rank of a rank-three perk by adding the requirement of using that specific wand to cast it, and a slight percentage chance of the Wand breaking when used.

  He had fooled himself into thinking he had crafted a magic item. He had not. He had only created a perk that required a specific item.

  That was nothing new. By cramming more restrictions on a perk, he could diminish its rank by one. That was the most he could achieve, regardless of how many extra restrictions he added.

  Then came the Progression dungeons, where they discovered that Essence could be transformed into solid Experience in the form of Spirit Cores.

  This Experience could be used to craft true magical items, including potions, or the Coffer of Holding they had stolen from the Imperials. These items did not act as a manifestation of the user’s own power, but like an independent perk or ability, an autonomous bit of Experience the user could wield without having earned it.

  Unfortunately, as Spirit Cores were designed for Progressors, most of the magical energy was lost when crafted by an Avatar or a Pantean.

  Finally, you had Alchemical dungeons, not designed with a specific power system in mind, but with alchemical techniques that anyone could theoretically learn. As long as the magical ingredients were used in Alchemy, power loss was minimal.

  The flexibility of potions was astounding: they could be used to supplement the Experience gained by the user, even in locked Systems, or act as Liquid Perks that granted a magical power for a limited time once consumed.

  They could also enhance Stats, but their use was surprisingly costly. Each rank in a magical Ingredient added the capacity to increase a stat by one point temporarily. Still, it could be any type of stat, even a secondary or tertiary one.

  With the way Jenna’s power worked, it was easier for her to use direct enhancements to Body, Mind, or Spirit, which could serve as the base for building a +6 tertiary stat.

  Bob remembered Bethella splitting apart as Jenna grew inside it.

  What could she do if he crafted a potion using a rank-seven ingredient? She could theoretically hit +7 tertiary stats by using that method.

  With the enormous increase in power stats granted at high level, she could outthink the internet, smash a mountain into rubble, or control an entire enemy army.

  And then came this. The gift from the Arcanic Boss. An idea he had designed into a perk over the night.

  The Cup of Belona (Woodcraft 3): Craft a wooden cup from magical wood equivalent to a rank three Ingredient, with a focus on self-magic.

  It will lower the needed rank to create a new perk by two, as long as it meets all these restrictions:

  -The Perk can only be activated by drinking from the Cup of Belona

  -The Perk can only be rank three or lower.

  -The Perk can only affect the drinker.

  -The Perk is destroyed after being used once.

  Not a potion. Not a minor artifact. A casting tool. Something that would make his powers much more fluid, allowing him to improvise Rank two Perks almost instantly and Rank three ones over the course of a minute.

  He remembered how much the ability to improvise Perks had helped him during his fight against Benetti’s men. He had kept those perks after the fight. That would not happen with these, but you can't have everything.

  He had labored a lot to find the correct combination of restrictions that allowed him to shave two complete ranks of a perk, instead of only one.

  He had a feeling that by increasing the ingredient rank, he could enhance the effect even more, granting him the possibility of improvising perks with even higher ranks.

  His mind flew, instantly designing wands or staffs as casting tools.

  If he got some metal-based Skill in the future, he could also try magical weapons and armor.

  He looked at his reflection in the mirror, feeling satisfied for the first time in forever. He was going to need a longer beard.

  And a pointy hat. Definitely a pointy hat.