Magic Multiverse 19 (Patreon)

The flight to Los Angeles was much better, because this time he actually flew first class. He was able to go through four different books on martial arts, trying to find a better style against the vampires and various other monsters.

Boxing was nice, but ultimately, it was too close to danger. Adding a second category would be nice, especially since earning points was easier until the skill reached Advanced. Not to mention, he didn’t need to fear neglecting his boxing.

At worst, he would ‘compete’ with Buffy some more. After all, she did enjoy their previous ‘contests’ immensely.

The first class allowed him not only to read comfortably, but also gave him enough space to practice occasionally; as long as he limited himself to merely stances rather than reckless, full blows.

The difference in comfort was amazing, just not worth ten thousand dollars for a ticket. He was lucky that the old lady at the check-in desk was complaining about her wrist, so he helped her with a little massage.

He had no intention of paying out of pocket.

His next fight would give him somewhat more money than the first one, but his fights in London still gave him merely five thousand, and there were not guaranteed to continue forever, if people started finding his fights boring.

With that, give up eight thousand pounds for a flight.

Unfortunately, that seemed to be the end of his fortune, because Cordelia decided to cancel on him at the last minute. Last-minute audition, she claimed, but she wasn’t able to cover up the shame in her tone.

At least, she apologized and promised to be there for his fight.

He recognized the tone. He remembered using the exact same tone when he had been injured, and his little inheritance had depleted. It was the struggle of hiding the lack of money; the pride keeping him from admitting it.

During their last date, he had already seen that Cordelia had been struggling to make ends meet because she didn’t have her family’s support. She probably had a last-minute emergency that consumed her available cash, forcing her to pick up extra shifts at work or something.

She was probably ashamed of telling him that she was working as a waitress or a cashier. As for whether she had been doing something more extreme like stripping to earn money, he wrote it off as impossible. Cordelia was too proud for that.

He didn’t know her for a long time, but he could see that she might have act flighty, but she had a core of steel. Also, if she ever wanted to become a stripper, she would have made a fortune rather than eking out a living.

Luckily, he had options. A call to Buffy confirmed that she was available and very excited for a repeat, so directly from the airport, he rented a car, but he didn’t drive immediately. He had a shopping spree. Holy water, wood he could turn into stakes, but he also stopped by a novelty hunting shop, and purchased an actual classical crossbow with wooden bolts.

Sunnydale special.

It was bulky, but he wanted to see if he could add another skill to his panel through combat.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy to achieve. People punching each other was not something police cared, but using anything ranged, even the simplest, would be too attention-catching.

Sunnydale was the exception.

Ultimately, vampires represented the best target to see if he could add a ranged method, and Sunnydale was the place they were in abundance rather than spending hours just to track one from cobbling newspapers.

It was just past noon. Unfortunately, when he arrived at the diner, Anne was nowhere to be seen. No calls or messages. “God, today is not my day, is it?” he muttered. He stayed there while reading the guide that he had picked for the crossbow, which explained the basics of aiming, reloading, and general maintenance. But, even after he read it thrice, Buffy had yet to arrive.

Interestingly, he did hear a few things about her. She apparently beat up a group of frat guys, as well as another suspicious fight where her enemies disappeared suspiciously. Vampires, he guessed.

But, when he asked the other guests, they acted like they weren’t talking about Buffy in the first place.

Buffy was one scary lady, which was still difficult to mesh with cute Anne begging for more.

She was also terrible at arriving dates on time, but realizing that she was a badass vampire huntress made him more patient. He guessed she was dealing with a last-minute emergency.

However, once he waited for two hours, he started worrying. He would have been more worried if it had been dark outside and vampires were operating. Of course, that didn’t mean she was entirely safe. He vaguely knew that vampires weren’t the only threats; various other demons existed.

He decided not to worry unnecessarily. Maybe it was simpler, that she wanted to take a nap, but overslept. Another quick drive brought him to her dorm.

He didn’t bring his crossbow up, but this time, he did bring a small bag, which had a change of clothes as well as two stakes and a bottle of holy water.

After how their previous adventure had ended, he didn’t want to be caught flat-footed.

He knocked on the door. “Who is it?” a voice he didn’t recognize asked. The owner was also obviously crying. Likely Willow, the roommate whom he had only seen but not talked to. He opened the door, and confirmed his guess. It was her, and she was trying to hide that she had been crying.

The moment she saw him, her eyes widened. “Hey you—“ she started with exclamation, then paused, no doubt remembering that the one time she saw him was supposed to be a secret. “I mean, are you…” she tried to add, which turned into a whimper.

Poor girl, he decided. If she hadn’t been crying her eyes out, he would have teased her more and seen how long she would stammer before admitting to seeing him in the shower. “I was supposed to be meeting with your roommate, but it can wait. Tell me, what’s wrong?” he said.

“Nothing. Why? Do I look like something is wrong? Everything is good. Amazing, even!”

He didn’t say anything. He just sat next to her on her bed, and looked at her. “Willow?” he said.

“You know my name. Of course you do, I mean. There’s no way—“ she started, only to burst into tears, but this time he stopped her by patting her shoulder. He needed her to calm down to see what was going on. She didn’t. She just leaned against his chest, crying wildly. “It’s Oz. I have … he … she … naked…”

He didn’t know who Oz was, but from the context clues, a boyfriend seemed to be a good guess. Well, an ex-boyfriend, at least. She must be truly distraught to cry on the chest of a stranger. Very vulnerable. In a perfect state for an asshole to take advantage of her.

He had to admit, she was lucky. He was not exactly the noblest man in the world when it came to his relations, but taking advantage of a crying girl was a whole different level. He patted her back, waiting for her to calm down.

It took her almost fifteen minutes to calm down, and he suspected it would have lasted even longer if he hadn’t used Tantric to rub her back to calm her down.

It was truly a convenient skill.

"God, this is so embarrassing,” Willow muttered once her tears dried out, realized she had been crying in the arms of a stranger, and pulled back. And, considering the heat she had shown when she pulled back, he suspected she had also remembered the exact circumstances of their encounter.

“Don’t worry. I have been dumped as well, I know the pain,” he said. Nothing as cinematic as her experience, but it seemed like the best thing to say.

“Bad breakups?” she asked.

“The worst,” he said, and told her a few stories. Admittedly, none of them happened to him. He had heard his teammates talking about it, and often they were the other party, stealing the girl in question rather than the one that suffered, but they were interesting enough to distract her.

“Oh, poor boy,” she said once he finished his third story.

“Yeah, it happens,” he said. “But, we look forward, not back. Though, speaking of it, where’s your cute roommate. I have a suspicion that you’re the reason I got stood up for our date.”

That made Willow’s eyes widen. “Oh, sorry about that. I was just—“ she started.

“Willow, calm down,” he said, laughing. Also, he decided to use the name Anne for the moment, remembering he was still supposed to be misled. “I’m just kidding. I know that Anne is your best friend from high school, and I can guess that she’s doing her best friend duties by tracking the bitch in question for a roughing or something. The girl code,” he said.

He was curious how long Buffy would try to maintain it.

For some reason, that triggered a laughing fit. “You don’t know how right you are. Veruca is a total bitch, especially at this time of the month!” she said. The period joke wasn’t funny, but it was better than her crying, so he chuckled gently, waiting for her hysterical laughter to calm down.

“Good. So you sent Anne to beat her up. A good choice. She’s amazing.”

“So, you call her Anne,” Willow said.

“Well, that’s what she asked me to call her. But I have a feeling that she goes by a different one, though she made a point of hiding it.”

“Well, Anne is her middle name,” Willow responded. “But, she doesn’t use it much.”

He shrugged, playing along. He didn’t want Willow to use the real name. It would ruin the eventual fun. “Well, she said she didn’t like using the other name that much anymore. She clearly didn’t live a simple life. Maybe she wanted a clean break from her past now that she’s in college.”

“Wait, you know about—“

“I don’t, and I want to continue not knowing,” he interrupted Willow immediately. While he loved digging for secrets pertinent to the world, like the nature of magic and vampires, the same didn’t apply to Buffy’s personal troubles; including her troubled love life.

“Really?” she said.

“Yeah, not unless she feels comfortable enough to tell me,” he said. Admittedly, while his preference was true, he did ham it up a bit for Willow. It would distract her from her pain, and he would also make himself look better.

Willow was clearly a chatterbox. She would tell Buffy everything, including how he respected her secrets despite his curiosity.

He was never the one who would try to hide when he did something that would get him a reward. Particularly if that reward came in the form of grateful blowjobs.

“That’s nice,” Willow muttered, smiling for a moment before tears arrived. “And, here I am, always the second place. Even Xander never chose me, preferring that cruel devil instead.”

She hugged him again, and he patted her back. “Don’t be unfair to yourself, Willow. You’re amazing. Xander or Oz being idiots has nothing to do with it,” he said.

“Of course not. I have always been the ugly duckling of our group, always the last choice, while others distracted by sexy cheerleader legs and shiny blonde hair.”

Sam sighed. He was starting to get a bit overwhelmed, as it was not exactly his wheelhouse to console crying girls, especially not overthinkers like Willow. Feeling lost, a sentence that might have been a bit ill-advised had escaped his mouth. “You’re not an ugly duckling, Willow. Not with your amazing body.”

That made her freeze. “What do you mean?” she said, pulling back. “Are you—“

“Well, you have stayed for a while at the doorway, watching us. I might have caught a glimpse,” he said.

“No,” she whimpered, grabbing a pillow to cover her face. “You … no.”

Abject mortification was easier to handle than constant crying. “Well, in my defense, you stayed for a while. It’s difficult to miss.” She opened her mouth, and closed again. He read what she wanted to say easily. “Don’t worry. Anne hasn’t noticed. She was distracted by … well,” he said, not bothering to hide his smirk. “I don’t have to tell you I know what I’m doing, right?”

After all, he had a lot to be proud of.

She buried her face in her hands. “Kill me now,” she whispered. He laughed. That made her raise her head. “How can you be that casual? I walked on you. I have seen you … do things.”

He shrugged. “I mean, I have nothing to be ashamed of. By the way, neither are you. Believe me, you are surprisingly toned, and certain parts of you are very alluring.”

“Please, no more,” she said, this time grabbing a pillow to hide her expression, but he didn’t miss her smiling. In some ways, she reminded him of Hermione, utterly unused to being complimented for anything other than their studying.

"For what it's worth. You don't strike me as a second-place kind of person."

"You don't even know me."

"No," he admitted. "But I have eyes. You’re a sexy redhead, which is always a bonus, and looking at the amount of books you have on your desk, you’re also wicked smart. A guy could do worse, much worse.”

“Yeah, that means I’m a nerd,” she said.

He was surprised at the intensity of her self-loathing. “Why do you say it like you have a deadly disease?” he said. She looked surprised. “We might not be as intellectually allergic in Britain,” he guessed.

“Really?”

He nodded. It was only partially true, though with a lot of extra nuances that were too complicated to explain at the moment. Not to mention, her shyness and terrible fashion would have made her unpopular in London as well, but that was not a necessary detail to share while trying to cheer her up. “Of course.”

However, as he complimented her, he made sure to lean back. The last thing he needed was for her to lean in for a kiss and get busted by Buffy returning. A good call, he decided when the door opened, and he saw a flash of blonde.

Then, he realized it was not Buffy. “Veruca, what are you doing here?” Willow gasped, tense.

He examined Veruca, who was supposed to be the homewrecker who ruined her day. “Wow, Willow. You moved on fast. Maybe I shouldn’t bother killing you.”

He sighed, surprised at how dramatic girls could be. At least there was no biting or scratching. He turned to Willow, about to ask whether he should leave them alone to talk, but Willow looked afraid.

No, he corrected himself. She was scared stiff. Worse, she was looking between the window and the girl. Willow was scared enough to jump. If it had been dark outside for a while, he would have suspected that the girl was a vampire. But, the sun had just set. She would have burned in the corridor if she had been a vampire.

However, he still stepped between them. He didn’t like the way Veruca was looking at Willow. Or the fact that she locked the door. “R-run,” Willow whispered.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“S-she’s a werewolf. Please, believe me,” Willow whimpered.

He looked back, checking Willow’s face. She looked serious.

Then, when he looked back, he noticed Veruca’s face was getting hairier. Significantly so. He didn’t know whether she could control her transformation or timed it perfectly, but it didn’t matter.

He kicked the window, grabbed Willow under one arm, and stepped out, using his other arm to hold on to the ledge until his feet could find purchase, and let himself drop a floor, and used an arm to grab another ledge, and repeated.

“Thank you, Cordelia,” he muttered. Without Acrobatics, he might have escaped, but not with Willow in tow. At least, not without breaking an arm at a minimum.

“What?” Willow gasped.

“My acrobatics instructor,” he said, not having time to explain. “So, werewolf? What’s the weaknesses here. Holy water, stakes?”

“No, that’s vampires,” she said when he put her down.

“How do we handle her?”

“Silver, or anything stabby—“ she tried to say, but he interrupted her with a push. She rolled down, and a hairy monster landed between them, jumping from the third floor easily.

Her transformed state was dangerous.

“This doesn’t count as hitting a girl,” he said as he delivered two punches, careful to avoid its claws or teeth. The fairy tales about werewolves told they needed to bite, and he decided to play it safe.

The tales about vampires had too many accurate details to risk it.

He hit hard enough, putting his whole weight, hard enough to send a human straight into a coma, but the werewolf merely pulled back a step, not even dazed.

The second time, he threw a weak jab, and when it lunged, he flipped out of the way. Luckily, while it was absurdly fast, it telegraphed its attacks, her beastly anger gave him a chance. “It’ll help if you start running away, Willow—“ he started, but before he could finish, another hairy figure slammed against the first one.

A second werewolf.

Luckily, they were too interested in killing each other, so he retreated to Willow’s side, ready to drag her away. She was frozen once again, watching them fight. “No, I can’t … one of them is Oz,” she said.

“Wait, your cheating boyfriend Oz?” he said, looking at the show.

She nodded. “I have to stay, he can’t—“

“What would he do if he won?” he asked.

She avoided his gaze. “Probably chase and kill us,” she admitted in a small voice. “IOnce they transform, they turn violent. Also, they are excellent trackers.”

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll try to keep him from dying. But you get away,” he said. He wasn’t being charitable. He would much rather stay around and muddle into the fight between them to make sure both of them ended up exhausted rather than letting one win and chase them.

He approached them, feeling like he was doing the stupidest thing he had ever done. But, he found a tall branch, using it as a long staff, swinging it to interrupt the killing bite. “God, I’m so glad that I have practiced in the plane,” he said.

He wasn’t suddenly a staff master, but his boxing knowledge allowed him to piece it together far faster than a true layman. It helped even more that he wasn’t dealing with the complicated fight, and merely pulling the same basic strike he had found on the guide.

By hitting the one that had the advantage and retreating, he kept the fight going. Not exactly something that would go forever, but their hatred toward each other had been enough.

He didn’t need to solve it. He noticed Buffy appear behind a tree merely a minute later, carrying a huge gun loaded with tranquilizer darts, and shot both of them repeatedly.

[Dangerous Combat Victory, +12 Bojutsu]

[Bojutsu Uninitiated -> Basic]

[Tertiary Special Character Defeated, Oz]

[+10 Meditation]

[Meditation Uninitiated -> Basic]

“Hello, Anne,” he said as he leaned on his staff, giving her his best smile. He didn’t need to guilt her about skipping the date, because he was already the hero of the day, saving her roommate from two murderous werewolves.

All he needed to enjoy the eventual reward.

Well, non-system ones. The system rewards were already useful, two new skills. Though, he was surprised by the name. Oz probably had a full name, but the system only went with a nickname.

Interesting. For Buffy, it skipped Anne as well. Maybe it took the most common form.

He turned his attention back on Buffy and noticed she looked more shocked than anything else, suggesting their agreement to meet had been forgotten completely. Understandable, but a little guilt wouldn’t be amiss. “You’re late for our date.”

Her expression shifted, and she avoided his gaze. Better.

However, he didn’t interrupt her while she moved toward the unconscious werewolves.

Buffy had a whole night to apologize.