After painting both the Heromaker and the Hemsway, Ronin spent the next few weeks working on his mind palace.

  He'd done all he could with regards to the Happy Pearl incident, and he'd already found a way to remove the alien energy from his mind. He'd even gotten back into the academy curriculum. And though there was still a lot of work out there to be done, some things were simply too important not to prioritize. He still had a bounty on his head after all. There was no telling what people would do for 3 million credits. He needed to deal with Specter.

  To get to this man though, he would need new techniques. And with last times failure still fresh on his mind, his mind palace would have to be as perfect as possible before he opened another gate. That's what led to this moment. Ronin looked at the singular crack running along the wall of the mental spaceship. He'd spent three week's work of effort on this, and this last crack was all that remained.

  “Finally, I get to fight back,” he whispered.

  Conjuring up another piece of metal, Ronin placed it inside the opening, then began using the blowtorch. Then, only a few minutes later, the cloud of fog that had been hovering over his mind now for months — lifted, and he felt a surge of energy run through his body. It was almost as if something fundamental about him had just changed. As if he'd become more complete now somehow.

  Ronin walked up to the gate he’d chosen, then leaned up against it. He closed his eyes and focused.

  There was a distinct feeling behind the gate of sneaking, hiding, deception and evasion.

  Ronin nodded to himself.

  Out of all the gates in the Potentia Panorama, very few gave off a feeling of stealth — likely due to how domineering the alien who’d gifted him this legacy was. But this gate, although a little large, felt just perfect. Centering himself, making sure he was absolutely ready, Ronin gave the gate a firm push and with a POP, it blasted open, flooding his mind with knowledge...

  “…”

  “Hey... Hey! Are you alright? Do I need to call a doctor?” A voice asked.

  Ronin, bleary-eyed, shook himself.

  “Hang in there!” The voice said again, and Ronin felt a foot slam into his face.

  “Stop it, I'm fine,” Ronin said weakly, finally able to see who was bothering him.

  Simons, like an orbiting moon, hovered over him, looking visibly nervous.

  “With the way you were shaking, like you were having an epileptic seizure or something, you're definitely not fine!”

  Ronin still weak from the memory infusion, lifted himself up into a seated position.

  “This is just something related to my medical condition. Don't worry about it, I knew this was coming.”

  “Like when you went to the toilet at the Happy Pearl?” Simons asked.

  Ronin rose up to his feet. “Please don't bring that up,” he grunted. “Shouldn't you be working on that racing ship of yours?”

  During the last two weeks — after familiarizing himself with the machines — Simons had been working on one of the free designs. The 5-meters long racing ship, however, had proven much more difficult to build than it first appeared. Ronin had even tried to help out a little, but this design still seemed to be out of both of their leagues.

  After some more back and forth, Ronin finally managed to get Simons to leave him alone, and he once again entered his mind palace. There were some new cracks along the mental spaceship, but nothing too serious.

  He looked inside the newly opened gate.

  Snapshot: Any opponent needs senses to interact with the world, but no sense can be fully focused at all times. This is the realm of the Snapshot. Reap the fields of strife with the inattention of others as you bathe your path in blood.

  This should work perfectly, Ronin thought.

  There were plenty of moves and tricks here to work on, but most relevant to him right now, was the human eyeblink. A part of the technique essentially described how to move out of other people's eyesight. Every time a person looking at him blinked, if he could move efficiently enough and to the right position, Ronin could effectively become invisible.

  But to continually remain invisible, he needed more. That's where the second technique came in:

  Presenceless: By dawning a mental mask strong enough, anyone around the warrior can either be forced to look at the warrior or someplace else. Deceive the opponent and forcibly create a Snapshot when there is none.

  Differently from Snapshot, Presenceless seemed to rely more on psychology. Specifically, it dealt with the unconscious body language of different forms of aliens, and in turn, how to influence that body language.

  At least some of this knowledge should work on humans, right? Ronin wondered.

  Either way, he would need to do some practical tests. If he could find out what worked in each technique, then master it, he should be able to put a tracker on Argus.

  I probably won't be able to wear the Heromaker if I'm going to do this though... Ronin thought as he returned to reality. He had anticipated something like this happening before he opened the gate, but considering what he was about to do... Well, it made him feel kind of naked to be honest.

  “Simons?!” Ronin called. “Think you can hold down the factory while I'm gone?”

  “Sure, no problem. But are you sure you should be out right now?”

  “Don't worry about me!” Ronin gave Simons a thumbs up, then stepped into the factory warehouse, entering one of the rooms off to the side.

  Before him, lay a set of gray colored overalls, a gray hoodie, makeup and a liquid that could change eye-color. This would be his only protection now. The 3 million bounty was still very much active, and there was no doubt that there were numerous assassins out there, just waiting for a golden opportunity like this one. Ronin bit the proverbial bullet then put on the gray clothes. He next covered his two lightning-shaped scars with makeup and dropped the liquid onto his eyes.

  He walked up to a mirror on the wall. It was as if a completely different person was staring back at him. Both his budding black hair and brows now matched his eyes and his scars were gone. He no longer looked emaciated either. In fact, he sort of looked like a normal person. Ronin nodded to himself. It would have to do.

  “…”

  Roughly 10 minutes later, Ronin was in his now azure-blue Hemsway on his way down into the city.

  As he descended, the common blue and green neon lights slowly changed into a more unsavory red, and the surrounding restaurants and shopping centers were replaced by pubs, casinos and brothels. The bright red light from the sun next faded into a dusky dimness, and Ronin began to look for a parking spot. He should be far enough down now.

  Landing in a gated enclosure, he paid for a parking ticket, then left for one of the more crowded pubs. He dawned his gray hood. Who knew what means others had when it came to recognizing bounty targets.

  Skulking his way down the street, making sure he stayed far away from the patrolling guardsmen, Ronin arrived before the pub. The venue was situated at the bottom of a towering circular building and numerous drunkards staggered in and out of a giant revolving door.

  Alright, go time.

  Pretending to be drunk, Ronin intermingled with the crowd, then entered…

  Loud music, even louder drunks shouting over said music, and the scent of hard labor filled the room. Ronin pressed past the rowdy crowd, not stopping until he found himself a vacant corner. He leaned up against the wall.

  I guess I should first dawn a mental mask, let’s see… What sort of image would be more effective?

  According to Presenceless, the more terrifying the scenario he imagined was, the more Ronin's own body would subconsciously react. In theory, this should make anyone noticing him instinctively look away.

  He had to believe in the mental image he conjured up though. So… which sort of scenario would be enough?

  Ronin thought about the fear he’d felt when he realized that his breathing mask didn’t work back on Exodon.

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

  No, the fear of not being able to breathe is not direct enough. It has to be something concrete, like a man, creature, or an event...

  Ronin then thought about the terror he’d felt in the abandoned city, when the Eizenshaft radiation mutated Arguses hunters into monsters.

  It could work but…

  There was that one memory in his mind. It wasn’t his, but if he could use it…

  Ronin recalled when he possessed the four-armed alien. He focused on the moment when the alien punched the fractal gate, and that dark foul energy rushed out...

  “Have any of you encountered any ruddles lately?” A man near Ronin shouted. “I think we’re finally starting to get rid of them!”

  Ronin tried to tune out the noise, and the mental image of the horrific event became clearer.

  “That’s just media propaganda!” Another man broke in. “We all know the expression…Uh, how did it go again… Ah, now I remember! How do you know when the media is lying?”

  Several other pub-dwellers followed up in unison: “When they open their mouths!”

  The crowd broke into laughter.

  Ronin, now entirely immersed in the mental image, felt as if the universe itself was ending. Fear, horror and desperation washed over him. He wavered. He felt as if he was on the brink of collapse, but he kept going, strengthening those negative emotions.

  More… MORE!

  He was about to die... everything was about to die!

  “Apocalypse,” Ronin wordlessly muttered.

  He compressed it. All of that fear, that horror, that desperation, he forcibly molded it, forging it into a singular image. And with every ounce of remaining strength he had, Ronin placed that image across the room atop the bar counter. Something shifted, and the alien energy within him — moved.

  “But anyways, I don’t see many of them any—” the man talking about the ruddles, mid-sentence, made a casual glance towards the wall.

  His eyes saw a figure there, but before his mind could register what his eyes saw, for some reason, his entire focus was drawn towards the bar counter. The conversation around him picked up again, but it became difficult for the man to follow along. His eyes just kept wandering over to the bar, again and again.

  Ronin studied the man closely. It was working.

  Next, others around the distracted man began to notice. But as they looked at him, they also started unconsciously glancing at the bar. Be it by noticing Ronin, or by noticing the guests already affected, more and more people became distracted. As Presenceless spread across the pub like an unseen plague, before long, the once rowdy atmosphere died down to short grunts and snippets of half-formed conversations. Hundreds of heads now intermittently turned towards one location, and one location alone.

  In the middle of this bizarre display, Ronin pushed himself off the wall, then began walking out. Not a single soul noticed though. They didn’t even register his existence, or that he ever had existed at all for that matter. There was something else on their minds… The bar counter…and the funny thing was, not a single one of them had any clue as to why…

  “…”

  Outside the pub, Ronin quickly found a bench to sit down on. Leaning back, he let out a deep breath.

  I never imagined it to be this draining.

  The technique took too long to set up and couldn’t be maintained for long either.

  He inwardly sighed, well, I guess that's why people practice.

  He could choose an easier mental image, but that would reduce the potency of the technique. Argus was an influential member of the underworld and likely had plenty of guards. If he was going to sneak up to such a man and place a tracker on him, he’d want as strong a mental mask as he could muster.

  Continuing to breathe heavily, Ronin gathered his strength, all the while carefully watching his surroundings. And after half an hour, he felt ready for the next technique.

  The issue was though... how in the world should he test it? Snapshot was based on moving out of other people's eyesight, but he’d look like a total weirdo if he did that here. People would notice. No, that was not stealth, that was acting like a clown. He needed somewhere less crowded, like an alleyway.

  Looking around, he spotted a dark passage behind the pub. There were people around the passage, but none nearby actually seemed to be walking into it.

  Doesn't seem like it's used much...Yes, this should do just nicely. He rose then began casually making his way towards it. Nothing to see here, just your normal… Well, who DOES hang around a pub in the middle of the day anyways?

  Before Ronin could find the answer, the badly lit passage was before him. It was empty, for now, but that could change. He walked in then crouched down behind one of the nearby trash piles. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to wait long...

  Step, step, step...

  “You’ve been hyping up this place for weeks now,” a voice rang out along the empty passage. “Are you sure this place is for real? I know how your memory gets when on a bender.”

  From within his hiding spot, Ronin’s eyes lit up with anticipation. His first practice targets were here, and it had only taken 5 minutes.

  “Listen, the red velvet ain’t just cheap, it's one of the best brothels in the valley! Just wait! They’ve got this new girl, Starly, and I’m telling you, her skills with her hands are legendary, to say nothing of her looks,” another voice argued back.

  The two inebriated men continued discussing the place they were going to visit as they walked further in. Then, as they reached Ronin's hiding spot, he stepped out.

  Spotting the gray clothed, hooded stranger, the men became visibly nervous, but the moment they blinked, Ronin disappeared.

  “Di—did you see that?” one of the men asked.

  “I—I saw it too,” the other replied. “I'm getting a bad feeling about this... Let’s just get out of here, alright?”

  Ronin shadowed them, mirroring one of the men’s movements so closely, he was but centimeters behind the man. And as the two drunks hurried up, Ronin kept pace, breathing down their necks as he did. One of the two drunks, now jittery from fear, next turned to his friend, about to say something, but then he saw it again. The gray man!

  Blink.

  Ronin disappeared. The drunkard, however, was so scared at this point he was shaking.

  “Behind you!” He screamed. “Run Carl, run!”

  Both men began to sprint as Ronin jogged after them, doggedly keeping pace as he tried to stay close. As the two ran out of the dark passage though, he had to let them go. There was no point in following them out.

  Tsk! Ronin spat, frustrated.

  The point of Snapshot was not to scare them. Predictably, the technique was harder to do with more people around and as a result, he'd messed up the timing with one of the men’s eye blinks.

  He’d failed.

  It appears I’ll have to spend some more time mastering this as well, Ronin thought.

  He went back to his old hiding spot and waited for more people to enter the passage. Then, as the minutes passed, he heard it:

  Step, step, step.

  The sounds of footsteps could only mean one thing. A new victim! Wait, no — a new practice target!

  This time it was a lone stranger.

  Now we’re talking! Ronin exclaimed in his head.

  The lone figure approached, and Ronin walked up to the man, waited for him to blink — then moved.

  “…”

  Minutes turned to hours as Ronin altered between practicing Presenceless in the pub and doing Snapshot in the alley. He didn't notice much of an improvement in the beginning, but as the hours passed, he got better.

  He could now put on the mental mask faster and hold it for longer. He could also consistently stay hidden from up to 2 people with Snapshot now.

  Calling it for today, Ronin snuck his way back towards the gated parking lot. Humming to himself, a slight smile played on his lips as he flashed his parking ticket to the guard and was let inside. He entered the Hemsway, flipped on the engine, then called Nagata:

  The hologram activated, showing a smoke-filled room, and in the middle of it, was the familiar hazy-eyed uncle.

  [Yes?] Nagata said.

  [How’s the progress on Argus?] Ronin asked.

  He pulled the control stick back and the Hemsway began rising off the ground.

  The older man nervously rubbed his hands together. [Is this really the only way?] Nagata sounded reluctant. [I’m sure there are many out there who would help you if you asked. Have you asked the planetary guard?]

  Just what had the older man found to cause such a change?

  [You mean the ones who locked me up on Exodon?] Ronin grunted. [No. But now that you mention it, someone did offer to help.]

  He transferred over the contract he’d been offered by the academy.

  Nagata began reading, likely a little slower due to the drugs running through his system, but his eyes quickly shot up once he reached further down.

  [This… This is—]

  [A slave contract,] Ronin finished. [I’d have to give up everything I’ve achieved. All the funds I’ve accumulated, all future patents, my personal freedom, everything… 10 years of my life. That's the price.]

  Only the soft hum of the engine could be heard as the uncle took it all in.

  [Huuh, maybe I’ve grown soft over the years, but I never thought the academy would be this domineering. Part of Tar’s genius strategy concerns fostering good will between the chosen candidates and the state. It’s what makes geniuses still want to help Tar after they leave the system. For Tar to try to shackle their geniuses instead…]

  [Maybe they saw a unique opportunity with me,] Ronin said. [Regardless, I won’t sign it. So, will you help me?]

  [Alright,] Nagata sighed. [But this won't be easy. You'll see that for yourself once I transfer the documents.]

  The shuttle continued upwards as the dim light above brightened up.

  [If I’d had more time, the information would’ve been more detailed,] Nagata said. Ronin's implant notified him of a large incoming file. [Anyways,] the uncle continued, [most of the places Argus usually stays at should be in there. Just come by when you need the tracking device.]

  Ronin gave the man a heartfelt nod: [Alright, thank you. I'll owe you one.]

  Ending the call, he drove back the final leg of the journey before landing back at the factory. It was time to see what had gotten his uncle so scared. Ronin pulled up the documents.

  A blond-haired, burly figure appeared on the holoscreen. Beside the image, were data on his places of residence, his travel routes, surveillance systems, his subordinates and more.

  Apparently, Argus had thousands of men under him. He was practically a warlord.

  Why would such a powerful man willingly serve someone else, Ronin wondered.

  He studied the documents closer. If what he read was true, Argus had spent hundreds of thousands of credits augmenting his body. His skeletal frame was enhanced, he'd had neural enhancers implanted into his skull. Even his endocrine system had been altered, changing his body's chemical balance so as to create a state of hyper awareness when in combat.

  Ronin scratched his chin. “Argus huh, so that's what you look like.”

  He thought back on the time his apartment had been blown up, the harrowing hunt, his time in prison…

  It doesn't matter how many men you have, Ronin thought. Once I master these techniques... I will find you. And after you lead me to Specter, its war.