Double-Blind: A Modern LITRPG

Before I explained anything, I wanted to make sure I could back it up. I called Doctor Ansari first and asked if it was alright to use minor abilities. Ordinator’s Guile significantly reduced the amount of mana required to use anything on the Probability tree, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt.

She muttered something disparaging, but eventually relented after I promised to do nothing physically taxing, stop if I got short of breath, and agreed with her requirement to “stay in the damn wheelchair.” When I asked if there were any early indicators beyond shortness of breath to look for, the response was, “Sudden unspeakable pain followed by loss of consciousness.” After that, she hung up.

Dr. Ansari really didn’t like me.

We sat around the coffee table. Sae listened as I described “Ranger’s Fortune,” outlining as clearly as I could without calling it by name. She clearly didn’t believe me at first. I understood why. As paradoxical as it seemed, magic required little faith. Most of it was obvious, the cause and effect easily apparent. What I was describing was far more abstract.

“We’ve all been under a lot of stress, Helpline.” Sae said, cutting my explanation off. “And with the system throwing all these fantasy elements and powers into the mix—“

“You think I’m losing it,” I said dryly.

“I didn’t say that,” Sae answered quickly, glancing away. “But weren’t vivid dreams one of the side effects of the recovery potions you’re taking?”

I’d warned Sae earlier because I didn’t want her to panic if she heard me screaming. Still, I could understand why that was working against me now.

“Pick a number between one and twenty.”

Sae raised an eyebrow. “Between? So, I can’t pick one or twenty?”

I shrugged. “Whatever you want. Just figured you’d want to go for something less common.”

“Fine. Thirteen.” Sae said.

I held up the twenty-sided dice and prepared to roll, picturing the number in my mind.

“Wait.” Sae took the drawstring bag and pulled out a black twenty-sided die. It matched the unnaturally dark chitin that covered most of her body. “Use this instead.”

“Why?” I was curious to hear her reasoning.

“I instinctively picked a number without really thinking about it. It’s possible you forced that choice somehow. Subtly suggested it.”

That was surprisingly paranoid coming from her. “You think I’d do that?” I asked.

“No dumbass.” Sae rolled her eyes. “If the point is to prove something, it helps if to eliminate any doubts I might have before we start.”

“Fair enough.” I took the dice from her hand and paused, glancing over conspiratorially. “What if that’s the loaded dice, and I arranged it this way because I knew you’d request a substitution.”

Sae gave me an even stare. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Fine.”

I pictured the result I wanted. Unlike before, I actually rolled the dice, giving my power plenty of time to work. It came to a stop, spinning on a corner, before it came up on thirteen.

Sae blinked. “Okay. Kinda creepy, but still possible.”

With a smirk, I rolled the dice again. And again. On the third result, Sae stopped me and rolled the dice herself. When she came up with a seven and one, she glared at me as if I’d sabotaged her somehow. “I’m still swapping your dice.”

“That’s fine.”

Sae pulled three twenty sided dice with different coloring from the bag and handed them to me. “Go again.”

She meant for me to roll them one at a time. I had something a little different in mind. So far, I hadn’t strained myself at all. I could afford to push a little more. Focusing in, I imagined the result. While red and blue dice would land normally on the table, the gray dice would settle on one and skitter towards her. Whether she caught it or it fell to the carpet, it would still land on the desired number. This was the first time I’d tried for a split result, contingent on what might happen.

The blue and red dice landed together, jettisoning the gray dice towards Sae.

Sae caught it in a chitin fist. “Redo?”

I shook my head. “No need.”

Sae opened her hand and drew in a breath. She looked up and muttered, as if calculating something.

“Not sure what the exact chances of that are, but—“

“One in sixty-four million.” Sae grinned. “If life ever goes back to normal, Helpline? We are so going to the Horse Races.”

/////

Testing took most of the day. Sae seemed genuinely excited about the possibilities of my power, and helped think up ways to test its limits. I’d described the many ways I’d used couched as hypotheticals, and Sae shook her head.

“You know what your problem is?” Sae asked.

“Which one?”

“Lack of creativity.” She fell back on the recliner, snapping her notebook shut. “Obviously, you’ve got a lot going for you with this. The potential is borderline bullshit. But you’re too practical. Tripping, fucking with car engines, interrupting attacks. It’s so one-note.” She made a winding motion with her hand, “Like you’re so obsessed with getting from point A to point B, you automatically pick the most efficient route.”

“Isn’t that… ideal?” I cocked my head.

“If you want people to figure your shit out, sure.”

I stayed very still.

Sae gave me a frustrated look. “It’s not hard to put together. One of the first things Nick told us about you was that you’re very private and tend to hold your cards close to the chest. So far, that’s accurate. I don’t care why you’re lying to the others about being an NPC before the transposition, that’s none of my business—though I’ll admit, I am curious. But it goes without saying that you wouldn’t want other people to know about this power.” She studied her hands, and her expression further soured. “Since that first scuffle, I’ve wanted a rematch. I’ve thought about how to fight you. And knowing you have this ability thoroughly changes any strategy I had. Of course you’d want to hide it.”

Feeling like we were drifting into uncomfortable territory, I asked a leading question. “What did you mean, people figuring my shit out?”

Sae held up a finger. “One. You can only screw with someone the same way so many times before they wise up. If I trip once, I’m a clumsy idiot. If I trip twice, consecutively? Something’s up.” She extended a second finger. “If I tend to fall all over myself when the same User is around, you bet your ass I’m going to be looking hard in their direction. The same goes for vehicle malfunctions, or missing when I know I’d usually hit.”

I realized Sae was touching on a serious blindspot. I had a tendency to fall back on what worked under pressure. Thus far, I’d been relatively anonymous, so employing the same strategies over and over hadn’t done much harm. The conflict with the adventurer’s guild and my upcoming infiltration into the Suits had made that thoroughly unviable.

With enough attention to detail, even if they didn’t understand how, it wouldn’t be hard for someone to figure out what I was doing, and how to mitigate the damage.

“I’m not confident how to counter that.” I admitted.

“Yeah.” Sae chewed her lip. “I’ve been racking my brain while we’ve been testing.”

“Oh?”

“I think it’s a question of extremes. Using your power subtly most of the time, so low-key it’s almost impossible to detect. Then, when push comes to shove, and you have to go big, and you have to do something visible, making it look like something else entirely.”

I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hands. “Like another ability.”

Sae grinned. “From an entirely different class. Think about it. We’re talking about a skill that makes something with one-in-six-million odds an everyday occurrence. You could confuse the hell out of anyone trying to get a handle on you.”

Or terrify them.

A simple example was telekinesis. Regardless of whether telekinetic magic existed, it would be trivially easy to make people think I had it. I’d been avoiding using gestures ever since I realized they were unnecessary in an attempt to hide my ability. Playing it up instead was an interesting idea, and only the tip of the iceberg. I’d have to dig deep and come up with a portfolio, but there was plenty I could do in theory to imitate elemental magic, or advanced melee combat skills.

Sae’s phone beeped. She glanced at it, then at the light fixture above the table. “That’s time. Want to try the If-Thens?”

Above us, a half-dozen dice were balanced on their edges on the light fixture. The first if-then was my idea. I wanted to see if I could get to activate under specific conditions. First, I made the trigger holding a hand beneath the dice for two seconds or longer. When that worked for both of us, I specified Sae. The dice remained fixed for me, only toppling when Sae held out her hand.

Next, Sae suggested we test how long the command lasted. I cast the ability, trying to keep my mana use even. She’d placed a die on the fixture roughly every half-hour for the last four hours.

I held up a glass, walking from left to right. One by one, they clinked into the glass, until I reached the last dice, the first we’d put up.

I shook the glass beneath it, in case my depth perception was off. “I guess that’s it.”

“You cannot tell me you’re disappointed right now.” Sae stared at me, slack jawed.

“Not… exactly.” But I’d be happier if there was some way to confirm that the time limit was tied to the ability’s level. Its earlier iteration had nothing like this, so there was no way to know for sure.

“Three and a half hours is fantastic. There’s so much you can do with that.” Sae stood and stretched up to grab the errant dice. The movement lengthened her chitinous body in a manner that looked off, somehow. She clenched her fists in excitement. “Not to mention, you’re not even breaking a sweat. Holy shit. I want to see how this would work in combat. We’ve gotta get back out there.”

I held my breath, expecting at any moment for her to realize what she said and take it back. Getting the recovery potions down had been brutal, but I was on schedule to finish the second potion tonight. Meaning, if she was willing, I could take her to the adaptive dungeon with me. Not to fight the lithid, of course—considering what Talia said the creature was capable of that’d be a terrible idea—but maybe to revisit the earlier floors to test Sae’s abilities, and ensure I got a level out of it. I had a feeling that the dungeon would recalibrate for a party of two.

But that would mean throwing Sae into a combat situation that she might not be ready for.

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

The excitement petered out of her expression, and her hands slowly lowered to her sides. “I can’t slow down, Helpline. Every time I’m alone, and the lights are off, I’m back in the trial. With the whispering walls and that fetid water soaking into me. Reliving every mistake over and over. I have to do something. I have to move.”

That I could relate to, even though the rest of her situation was so far off, I ran through it in my mind, considering the possibility. “You realize that’s not sustainable.”

Sae glanced down. “I know. But it’s what I need right now. Iris said she’d have something that would work temporarily by late tonight.”

“I’ll be back on my feet tomorrow. If Iris pulls through—keep in mind, she’s new to this—we’ll find a place to spar and see if you’re up to it—“ I stopped mid-sentence as a message rolled in.

“What’s up?” Sae asked.

I glanced at her, my expression hardening. “We’ll talk more later. It’s time to see how the assholes behind the scenes are going to spin this.”