The Gate Traveler

While driving toward Phoenix, I switched on the radio and hunted for an oldies station. I found one, but the songs were far from what I expected. I thought an oldies station would play hits from the 80s and 90s, but this one played songs from 2000 to 2025. It made me feel ancient. I’d be 49 on paper by December 17th—or maybe 45, discounting the time skips. It was confusing either way. I didn’t feel nearly 50. When I glanced in the mirror, the reflection showed someone who looked no more than 20, and honestly, I felt even younger. Back in my 20s, I had carried the burden of my past—mentally and emotionally scarred—so I felt much older then. Now? It felt like I was finally living my 20s the right way, with the freedom to appreciate the finer things in life and the money to indulge.

I scanned for another station, but it was difficult to connect with modern music. It felt too technical, with AI-generated tracks lacking any human touch, and genre-blending that made everything sound the same. The lyrics? All about digital life. The overproduced sound, dripping with auto-tune and heavy digital effects, felt soulless. Short-form content created for social media felt shallow, and the absence of physical media and live concerts robbed the music of its authenticity. None of it resonated with me.

After a lengthy search, I stumbled upon Time Capsule Tunes Radio. The name made me laugh because “Time Capsule” conjured the idea of relics—something ancient. But that’s what they called it, and I finally found the music of my youth. Maybe I was a time capsule in some ways. After all, I looked like I had rolled the clock back thirty years.

With these philosophical thoughts swirling around, I started singing along. Even after over two months, I still wasn’t used to my new voice. It was too powerful, too rich, too deep, but at least my vocal control was extraordinary. Every time I sang, I could feel the mana trying to creep into my voice, like it wanted to fuse with it. But I kept it in check. No need to accidentally fry our new Jeep.

Mahya took out the list of things I had “liberated” from the warehouse and commented, “There are things here we’ll never use. We should get rid of them to make space in our Storage.”

“Yeah, I’ve thought about that,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road. “But I don’t want just to throw them away. All these items are valuable. I considered donating them, but not in the U.S. I don’t know who I robbed, and I’m not taking any risks. When we get to Canada, we’ll review the list and figure out what we can donate and to whom.”

She nodded, and I continued driving, belting out song lyrics. Rue kept his head out the window, occasionally shouting, “Rue love fast!” and “John go faster!”

When we reached Phoenix, we jumped straight into our errands. Neither of us felt like sightseeing. We were all mentally ready for the next world. Everyone was tired of Earth. We found a giant furniture store, and I bought three complete sets to furnish a five-bedroom house. Despite ordering only items that could be delivered immediately, I still had to wait two days for the delivery.

In the meantime, we cleared out a few more alcohol stores. By now, our storage was practically bursting with alcohol. Despite Lis and Mahya’s best efforts, I still had a third of the original stock I bought before leaving for Shimoor. With all the recent shopping and our travels, we now had enough booze to keep a city supplied for a decade. But Mahya kept insisting that Earth’s alcohol was leagues better than anything she had tasted in other worlds, and Al always nodded in agreement. So, I kept buying more.

After searching online, I found Cartel Roasting Co. and Coffee Reserve Brands in Phoenix. Between the two, I bought 1.2 tons of coffee and relaxed, knowing I wouldn’t be stuck without coffee. In Storage, it could last centuries. With the money I had, there was no reason not to ensure a steady supply.

My Storage, however, was looking dangerously full. When I checked, I found items piled nearly to the ceiling. Expanding it left me with an annoying, persistent headache, like I had been stretching my mana sense for hours. I waited a few hours for it to subside, but there was no change.

I turned to Mahya for advice. “My Storage was too full, so I increased it, but now I feel this constant mental pressure, like I’ve been stretching my mana sense for hours. My head is killing me. Do you have any idea what to do about it?”

Rue chimed in, “John take nap! Nap good for head!”

I chuckled, scratching his ear. “Thanks, buddy, I’ll consider it.”

Mahya pondered momentarily, then offered, “Increase your intelligence.”

I frowned. “How? There’s no way I can level up right now.”

She gave me a knowing look, amusement glinting in her eyes. “Convert an ability point into five Trait points and put them into intelligence.”

I facepalmed. “Why didn’t I think of that?” It hadn’t even crossed my mind since becoming a Gate Traveler.

She chuckled softly. “It’s easy to miss the obvious when you’re juggling so much. Just take it easy and make the conversion. You’ll feel the difference right away.”

Closing my eyes, I focused, and as soon as I converted the ability point, the strain lifted, as if a heavy weight had been removed from my mind. “Thanks, Mahya. That helped.”

She smiled, patting my shoulder. “Anytime. Now, let’s make sure we’re fully stocked before moving on.”

We found The Source Hemp & Herbs, where Al purchased a mountain of herbs and a stash of CBD products for his potions. As we loaded the last items into the vehicle for show and discretely stored them, Rue wrinkled his nose and asked, “What is smell?! Rue like smell!”

I laughed, shaking my head as Rue sniffed at the box of herbs. “Those are the herbs, Rue. They’re for Al’s potions.”

Rue recoiled slightly, his nose twitching. “Rue taste herb!” he announced, eyeing the box.

“Trust me, buddy,” I said with a grin, watching his tail twitch nervously. “You don’t want to taste these. They’re worse than dog cookies.”

“Yuck!” Rue scrunched up his face, shaking his head emphatically. “Rue no want herb! No dog cookies!” he added, retreating even further, clearly disgusted.

Al and I laughed as we drove through the busy streets toward the hotel. Al’s expression suddenly changed, becoming more serious. He turned to me and said, “John, I need you to find me more cocaine and heroin.”

I shot him a surprised look, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you need more?” I asked, tightening my grip on the steering wheel.

He sighed and explained, gesturing with his hands. “There are specific potions that can be made with those ingredients. With heroin, I can create the Essence of Oblivion, which erases memories—allowing people to forget trauma or force others to forget secrets.”

I nodded slowly, processing the information. “And cocaine?”

“With cocaine, I can brew the Elixir of Exhilaration. It gives people a burst of joy and energy, perfect for social events or combat,” he explained, his tone steady. “There’s also the Stimulant Serum, which grants heightened alertness and focus. It is ideal for warriors or scholars requiring prolonged periods of sharpness. With cocaine, one can also craft the Berserker’s Brew, which enhances physical strength and aggression. This proves invaluable in battle. Moreover, the Potion of Clarity sharpens the mind and improves cognitive functions. Strategists and tacticians find it exceedingly useful.”

I kept my eyes on the road, still digesting his request. “Do they have side effects?”

“This is the primary rationale behind the request, and it explains my preference for drugs from Earth rather than magical plants,” he replied, leaning back and tapping his fingers on the door. “Typically, these potions exhibit potent side effects. However, since earthly drugs lack mana yet produce the desired outcome, the potions will exhibit significantly reduced side effects.”

“And the heroin-based potions?” I asked, steering into the hotel’s parking lot.

“There is the Veil of Serenity, which engenders profound calm, reducing anxiety and fear. It is essential for warriors and nobles in stressful situations. Nevertheless, overuse can dull emotional responses. The Painbane Tincture, a powerful analgesic, eliminates physical pain. Healers highly value it, though it can lead to addiction and unnoticed injuries,” he said clinically.

I parked, letting the engine hum. “I understand the need,” I said, turning off the car. “But we already have over 300 kilograms of each. Why do you need more?”

Al turned to me, his voice soft but resolute. “It’s like Mahya with alcohol and you with coffee. At present, I possess an ample amount that will last for many years. Nonetheless, it will eventually be depleted, and I am averse to resorting to more harmful substances. I desire to leave the planet with an adequate supply that will last for many years.”

I sighed, nodding. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Just be careful with it.”

He smiled, squeezing my shoulder. “Always. Your help is invaluable.”

After nightfall, I activated my Luck and set out to find more drugs. Driving through Phoenix, following a feeling toward drugs felt surreal. After half an hour, I arrived at a large police station.

Hmm, probably in the evidence room. Not a good idea.

“Not here,” I muttered. I activated my Luck again, seeking a different path. This time, I ended up in the Alhambra neighborhood. The moon hung low, casting a pale glow over the dilapidated buildings and trash-strewn streets. I parked the Jeep in a shadowy corner, far from the flickering streetlights. The air was heavy with the scent of damp asphalt and the faint, acrid stench of smoke. Sirens wailed in the distance, blending with the murmurs of street thugs loitering on corners, their eyes glinting with suspicion and menace.

I exhaled deeply, the weight of what I was about to do pressing down on my chest. My task was straightforward—steal a stash of drugs for Al’s potions. The absurdity of it all made me shake my head. The old John wouldn’t have even considered something like this. I’d become someone else, unrecognizable even to myself.

Activating my Luck, I closed my eyes and let the familiar tingling sensation guide me. It pulled me toward a rundown building, its windows barred and covered in graffiti. A group of thugs lingered around the entrance, their low voices mingling with the sounds of the city. Five armed guards stood near a white Cadillac parked beside the building.

I parked two streets over, cast Invisibility, and returned on foot. The Cadillac remained, the guards vigilant. Waiting was my only option.

After about twenty minutes, a man in a white suit emerged from the building, surrounded by more guards. He shouted something in Spanish to the thugs standing by, his voice carrying in the night. I couldn’t catch most of what he said, but his appearance suggested he was Mexican.

Cartel maybe?

I didn’t care. As long as it wasn’t a police station and an evidence room, it worked for me. After barking more orders, he and his entourage climbed into the vehicles and drove away.

I needed a way inside without raising suspicion. It felt all too familiar.

Here we go again…

With a silent prayer to the Guiding Spirits, I approached the building. The thugs rested their hands on the butts of their guns, eyes sweeping the street. I moved carefully, each step silent on the cracked pavement.

As I neared the entrance, one thug shifted, his gaze narrowing. I held my breath and edged past him, the smell of sweat and tobacco thick. Inside, the building was dim and musty, the only light coming from a flickering bulb down a long hallway.

My Luck guided me deeper, past rooms filled with broken furniture and discarded needles. Muffled voices and the clinking of glass echoed through the walls. I descended a staircase into the basement.

The air down here was stale, thick with mildew. Shelves lined the walls, filled with boxes and bags. I scanned the room quickly, knowing time was against me. The drugs weren’t in the open, so I rummaged through the boxes and bags and found them. One by one, I stored the drugs, feeling no remorse for robbing these dealers.

Footsteps from above made my pulse quicken. I needed to move fast.

As I stored the last bag, a voice rang out from behind. “Hey! Who’s there?”

One thug had come down, his eyes scanning the room. I froze, my Invisibility still intact, but the tension was palpable.

He stepped closer, his flashlight cutting through the darkness. “I know I heard something,” he muttered, his hand hovering over his gun.

I acted quickly, casting Telekinesis to send a stack of empty boxes crashing down on the opposite side of the room.

“What the hell—” he turned, his focus shifting. I slipped past him, my heart hammering as I rushed back up the stairs.

At the entrance, another thug stepped into the hallway, blocking my way. His eyes narrowed, sensing something wasn’t right. I needed another distraction. Using Telekinesis, I slammed a door down the hall.

“¿Qué chingados?” he muttered, rushing toward the noise. I seized the moment, slipping past him and into the night.

The cool night air hit my face as I deactivated my Invisibility and climbed back into the Jeep. My heart pounded as I started the engine and drove off. I had the drugs and avoided getting caught, but the danger still lingered in the back of my mind.

As I drove back to the hotel, I reflected on the close calls and decided it was time to buy the Stealth skill. I had intended to get it earlier, in preparation for visiting the dragon realm, but it had slipped my mind. Determined not to forget again, I pulled over, purchased the skill, and then resumed my drive.

Mahya and Al were waiting for me in the room, their faces lighting up when they saw me. “You made it!” Mahya exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Yeah, and I’ve got quite the haul,” I said, dropping the bags and boxes on the floor with a heavy sigh. “But this is the last time I’m doing this. Don’t ask again. I don’t mind robbing criminals, but my heart can’t take the stress.”

They both laughed like I was joking, but I wasn’t. I let it slide for now.

They eagerly spread everything out on the bed and the floor, excited to see what I had grabbed.

“Let’s start with the drugs,” I said, opening one bag.

Drugs:

• Cocaine: 50 kilos, neatly packed in brick-like bundles.
• Heroin: 40 kilos, in similar packaging.
• Methamphetamine: 30 kilos, in large plastic bags.
• Marijuana: 50 kilograms, vacuum-sealed.
• Prescription Pills: Various types, totaling 10,000 pills, ranging from painkillers to sedatives.
• Ecstasy Tablets: 5,000 tablets, colorful and stamped with various logos.
• LSD Blotters: 2,000 blotters, each with intricate designs.

Mahya’s eyes widened as she examined the stash, her fingers twitching. “This is incredible!” she exclaimed, looking over at Al. “Al will have a field day with these for his potions.”

Al nodded thoughtfully, but his expression remained tense. “Indeed, these ingredients will be invaluable,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual enthusiasm.

I frowned, catching the look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I was hoping for a significantly larger amount,” he admitted, glancing at the stash with disappointment.

I sighed, rubbing my hand across my face. “I’m not robbing any more dealers. Forget it. I wasn’t kidding—my heart can’t take the stress. If you want more drugs, you get them yourself.”

He nodded, looking thoughtful. I had a feeling some drug dealers along our route would soon miss some merchandise.

Other Items:

• Cash: $300,000 in various denominations, tightly packed in duffel bags.
• Jewelry: Rings, necklaces, and bracelets, likely stolen.
• Weapons:
  • Glock 19 Handguns: 20 units, in pristine condition.
  • AK-47 Rifles: 10 units, fully loaded.
  • Various Ammunition: Thousands of rounds for the above calibers.
  • Tasers and Batons: Various models, likely for intimidation or close combat.
  • Laptops and phones, all likely stolen.

Al placed a hand on my shoulder, his voice calm and sincere. “Thank you, John. I’ll make good use of these supplies. While I had hoped for more, I’m still grateful.”

“Yeah, okay,” I muttered, shrugging off his hand. “But I’m not doing this again.”

Mahya decided she wanted to buy another Jeep, so we spent the next day checking out used car lots. We found another Wrangler and stocked up on spare parts and a massive supply of tires for all our vehicles. Once the furniture arrived, we hit the road again, heading toward Albuquerque.