by Ryan DeBruyn
I try to pin my hopes on that, but it doesn’t feel heavy enough to be metal—not that all pistols are metal. I tear open the box and stare at the strange black booklet inside. I can’t even read the cover because it isn’t written in English or even in a language I might recognize. My stare triggers [Identify].
Tome of the Gartusk Language
-This book will teach you the language of goblins, hobgoblins, orcs, trolls, blood-orcs, high-orcs, and ogres.
“What does the black color mean, and how can it teach me the language if I can’t read the book?” I complain to Crash.
“Traditionally, gray is the lowest rating for magic items, but there is one rating below that. I have heard some people name it the trash rating—wait, don’t open the book!” Crash cries as I open the tome to see if the words inside are legible.
I only cracked the cover, but the pages begin flipping on their own as the book glows a rainbow of colors. As I watch, the volume crumples in jerky folds. My eyebrows climb as it seems to leave behind space devoid of light in the air. It’s a round matte black that seems to make the rest of the room darker by its very presence. That ball rushes toward me and my heart freezes between beats. I try to fend it off with my hands, but it passes right through them, continuing on through my sternum and vanishing into my body. A jolt like a static charge shoots through me, and I look at Crash, mouth hanging open.
“Ow, what—” A second jolt shoots through my Dantian and follows the pathway back to my heart. “This isn’t—” I feel the shock exit my heart and head up toward my brain. “Oh no! Wai—”
The pain in my head removes all thoughts, and I fall to the ground in the fetal position. Luckily it only lasts a heartbeat or two, but it causes enough pain that I don’t immediately stand back up.
“Crash, is it over?”
“Yes, Master. Congratulations. You now know the Gartuski language,” Crash retorts dryly.
After his smart-ass reply, I know I am out of the woods. So I stand up, brush myself off, and stomp my way toward the washroom to shower.
“You know I told you to warn me of any dangers!” I scold it.
“We were simply answering your questions first, Master.”
Arguing with an AI is always pointless. Its logic is usually flawless—except maybe when it comes to food. I am still trying to think of a good snarky response when the mirror, now three-quarters repaired, comes into view. I rush toward it and finally discover what the word at the top says.
“Status!” I exclaim happily.
*Status*
Overall rank: F-1
Free Points: 4
Free Physical Points: 0
Free Mind Points: 0
Status Effects: Chef’s Physical Boost [Green] (26 Hours remaining), Well Fed (20 Hours remaining), Training Room [Purple]
Total Bitcoins – 21
Physical Stats – Chef’s Physical Boost +1 [Green]
Strength – F-1 {2 / 10}
Speed – F-1 {2 / 10}
Endurance – F-1 {6 / 10}
Mind Stats
Capacity – F-1{0 / 10}
Synapse – F-1 {3 / 10}
Recovery – F-1 {1 / 10}
Spells & Skills:
Gartusk Language – F-1
Sea of Qi Size – F-3
Current Fill: 13 / 13
I immediately see what Crash meant about understanding the way free points work when looking at this screen of stats. If the ranks for the stats work like the ranks for the Dantian, then each major rank is defined by a letter and each minor rank is a number. It appears that each minor rank increase has a total of ten points needed before it can rank up. And since I have points in them already that I didn’t place, I assume that they also rise naturally as I improve. Additionally, if it functions like the Dantian, I won’t see any increases until a minor rank-up is reached. This is going to be extremely helpful to my growth.
I am not blind to the other status effects either and check them one by one.
Well Fed (20 Hours)
-Your body will not consume qi to sustain itself.
----
Training Room [Purple] (Passive)
-While in the Training Room, all recovery time is reduced by 300%.
Slightly chagrined, I scroll to the bottom and pull up the skill description for the Gartusk language.
Gartuski Language – F-1
-You can read and write in the most basic of Gartuski. You aren’t going to win any awards for eloquence, but you will make do.
“Crash, if that tome imparted the ability for me to speak a whole new language, is that possible with combat skills? And does it say spells?”
“There are books that teach skills in this way, yes sir. Still, they are expensive, and you will need to purchase them in the shop or be very lucky with rewards. You can also learn them through self-study or by finding a teacher. Lastly, some skills are drops from the Towers, Spires, or dungeons. Does that answer your question?” Crash shouts from another room. It not being in the Locker Room seems odd but the place is still being repaired.
I nod. It actually gives me more information than I need. The problem that I am having is how to farm for monster cores. I can’t do it on my own without a weapon or any strength.
Once the door opens, there might be an army waiting for me, though, and that would make my worries completely pointless.
Chapter 13
August 29th, 151 AR
Jeff Smith
“Master, we do apologize. The destroyed building that rested above the entrance seems to have collapsed atop it. Our only option is to move the Training Room entrance,” Crash explains to me. I stand staring up at the webwork cracks in the shifting concrete. A few pieces fall through the now-open portal as I watch, and they ping off the metal landing. The good news is it isn’t an army—the bad news, I’m going to remain trapped in here.
“Crash, can you tell if anyone is trying to dig through the debris?” I ask, thinking about Alrick or the mercenaries, while simultaneously not thinking about Leah. It’s a bit of mental acrobatics, but something I am used to, thanks to the woman.
“We cannot say, sire. Perhaps, we can move the entrance near the closest suburb and try to find information on your mother’s group or the army that attacked them?” I clench my teeth at the use of the word mother. I’ve only used her name, Leah, when I speak about her. Did the AI put that together himself?
After unclenching my fists, I hesitate, not because of Crash’s logic, but because I have never been in a suburb. I was planning on going to one with Alrick, but by myself, the task seems daunting. Logically, Leah and her mercs avoid suburbs, and so being near one is the best chance I have of remaining safe. That was why Alrick suggested it, but now without the worldly hunter to guide me, I am somewhat lost. What if he is out there digging through the rubble to find me? If he stashed me down here, he would know the location.
“I am not sure, Crash. What good would being near a suburb bring me?” I ask, feeling uncertain. Couldn’t I just attempt to gain strength in the Training Room and try to conquer dungeons after?
“Please sit down, Master. Breathe, and I will explain our options,” Crash says. I didn’t realize I was breathing shallowly and massaging my ears until the AI coached me out of it. I sit down and am surprised to see Crash’s head disappear before becoming a full body standing beside me. If Crash thought that would help—it didn’t.
“Crash, please go back to the talking head for now,” I whisper between breaths, not ready for him to be fully human shaped. The body disappears, and the Crash head is back in the center of the table. A few more human-sized bricks of concrete fall from above, clanging loudly off the hanging landing. Each time it happens I flinch twice, once from the metal clang and a second time from the concrete crunch a moment later. The noises remind me that the Training Room will need more repairs the longer I wait.
“Master, this is, of course, your choice, but I would suggest joining a dungeon-diving team or adv
enturing guild. In this way, you could start saving monster cores to upgrade the Training Room while also gaining loot or butchered meats.” This was essentially the same plan that Alrick and I were considering for after we ran away. Just with us two joining a hunting party, instead of the Adventuring Guild. So I’ve given it a lot of thought. There is one issue that Crash isn’t considering.
“No one will take an F-rank, Crash. Even a low-rank E will only be accepted if they have valuable skills to add. I was planning on becoming an E-rank in a day with access to the sun or moonlight, but. . .” I fade off thinking about the repercussions of breaking through ranks like that. Somehow, I’m thankful to Leah for holding me back—even while I am still frustrated with her.
“Master, perhaps then we can offer you a skill that would make you a valuable member of a team?”
I can’t help the images that pop into my head. Most prevalent amongst them is calling down fire and lightning on dungeon monsters as my faceless team members watch in awe. Of course, that seems too good to be true, so I try to curb the excitement—but fail miserably.
“What’s the skill?” I ask far too quickly.
“Sire, the Training Room is a subspace, so with ownership of it, you have the ability to use it like a subspace item. You can place anything into this room by simply touching it.” A wall slides up into the ceiling at Crash’s words. Behind the wall is darkness, or maybe outer space? I stand up and begin walking toward the swirling lights that are there one moment and gone the next. I never knew that black could have this many shades. . . There is a silence in the area, almost like it is consuming noise. The wall slams back down, and I jump in surprise, having taken a few steps toward it.
“Sorry, Master, we shouldn’t have shown the rest of the room to you. We realize that now. In any case, to take it back out, you need only summon it to you mentally. In this way, you could become a valuable member of any team because you can carry an entire dungeon’s worth of butchered meats, corpses, herbs, and cores.”
I return to my seat, slightly disappointed that Crash closed the wall, but also grateful. Is that space what this concrete box is floating in? Then I consider the ‘skill’ Crash is offering. My excitement from earlier putters and then winks out. So, Crash isn’t going to teach me some sort of legendary skill—no, Crash is suggesting I become the bag carrier. I feel my disappointment welling up, my dreams of becoming the heroic figure fracturing. Then the words register. . .
“Wait, it acts like a subspace item?” I say, my excitement growing again. Those are really valuable and rare.
“Yes, Master. On the central table, there is a handprint. Simply place your hand on it, and it will attune to you.” I walk over to the table and shudder, remembering the time I passed out in pain.
“Is there any chance of this hurting me, Crash?” I ask, and Crash rolls its eyes, which I think is a bit much considering he knocked me out earlier in the week by not explaining the contacts’ risk.
“The risk is minimal, sire. Only if you have a connection to another subspace would there be high risk.” I blink at that comment. It was said a bit too casually for my liking.
“What would happen if I had another subspace, Crash?” I ask.
“Do you have another subspace, sire?” At my headshake, Crash retorts, “Then why worry about the consequences?”
I continue shaking my head. Still uneasy, I debate about asking him outright for the answer, but something tells me that I don’t want to know. Even though Crash can be snarky he usually gives me the relevant information, unless he is glossing over some of the truly horrible outcomes.
Instead, I stand up and look over the holo-display on the table. It’s very different. Along with the handprint Crash described, I now have access to purchase new apps.
*Welcome to The Training Room [Purple]*
The Training Room is a feature of the Delving Spire. Using resources found in the outer world, the Delving Spire, and the Towers, you can upgrade the Training Room to better serve your race’s purpose.
Owner
Jeff Turle – Active
Your current rank: F-3
Current Application List
Home Gym [Green]
Locker Room [Green]
Sleeping Cots [Gray]
Small Kitchen [Green]
Renovate with additional Applications?
Yes | No
Current Passive Bonuses:
Training Room [Purple]
-While in the training room, all recovery time is reduced by 300%.
“My last name is Turle?” I ask, shock propelling the words out before I can even think to hide the recognition. That was the last name of the person that the army outside was looking for. Leanne Turle, right? My brain begins replaying those moments, and I recall Leah claiming that one of our mercs was the Leanne in question. Could Francesca have been my actual mother?
“Your last name was taken from your known lineage. Did the system make a mistake, sire?”
Ignoring Crash, I dissect that moment and recall Leah rushing toward me. She did it right after claiming the other woman was Leanne. Was she causing a diversion? The army began attacking right after, and I’d been knocked out. There is too much resemblance between Leah and me for me to believe that we aren’t related. Could Leah really be Leanne? It only makes sense that the person who causes the diversion is the person who gains the most from it, right?
“Master,” Crash interrupts my thoughts, in time with a clang and crash from the falling rubble. I put that particular discovery aside for now. I realize that, with the Training Room’s contacts, all I would need to do is look at Leah to be sure. But for now, I have no idea where she could even be. Shaking myself out of the deep thoughts, I hurriedly open the application options.
*Welcome to the Training Room [Purple]*
Renovate
Renovation Options
Name – Cost
Bookshelf – 100 F-ranked Cores
Reading Nook – 150 E-ranked Cores
Book Room – 150 D-ranked Monster Cores
Study – 150 C-ranked Monster Cores
Library – 150 B-ranked Monster Cores
Media Hub – 150 A-ranked Monster Cores
Athenaeum – 150 S-ranked Monster Cores
Weights – Higher-ranked option already exists
Home Gym – Purchased
Gym – 50 D-ranked Monster Cores
Fitness Center – 100 C-ranked Monster Cores
Health Club – 150 B-ranked Monster Cores
Health Resort 150 A-ranked Monster Cores
Health Amphitheater – 150 S-ranked Monster Cores
Page 1-3000
<1>, 2, 3, 4. . .
Total Monster Cores: 0
I hurriedly continue to scroll, stunned at the number of options. I eventually reach the shop option and see that it too has different ranks. For one hundred F-ranked cores, I can purchase Run-Down Pawn Shop—whatever that is.
“Are you sure the most important purchase is a shop, Crash?”
“Master, all apps have value, but a shop will allow you to buy and sell items for bitcoins. Those items will include skills, spells, weapons, and some other much-needed equipment.” *Crackle.* A massive shift of the debris above the entrance widens my eyes. I hurriedly close the application options and address Crash directly.
“Crash, I am all for collecting cores, but I still don’t think joining a group is possible. Even with the subspace,” I blurt out and notice my right hand is rubbing my ear through my shaggy hair. I press it flat on the table and lean on it trying to stop. Am I that nervous about being near people? Or is it the helpful collapsed-concrete timer?
Crash blinks his blue-on-blue eyes, which I am certain isn’t required for an AI. After a few such unnecessary blinks, he nods his head. His interactions have become more human as the processing power of the Training Room diverts to him. It is a bit unsettling for me to watch, and I recall the form of its holo-body with a shudder. It was so human-like,
with muscles, fingers and even a suit of clothes that looked like something a merchant caravan owner would wear. His demonstration videos, that I assumed were him, were more stick figure-like in appearance. Was that a processing power thing as well?
“Master, the other option is to move to the wilds just outside of the city. There you could build your own weapons and try to hunt monsters outside of their dungeons. The risk of injury and death would be much higher. Since the dungeons near the Suburb will be marked and large problem areas already known, you would be less likely to run into high-ranked monsters there. Besides, if you run into something dangerous, you would have your group to protect you.
“The final option is to move somewhere else in the ruins, which runs the risk of monsters or humans discovering you as you attempt to hunt by yourself. These two options, the wilds or the ruins, would make it much harder for you to grow. And for the Training Room to grow.”
When did my other hand start massaging an ear? I manage to stop it as well by sitting down and pressing both hands into the table. I sigh in resignation; something is bothering me, but it seems that the logic of the AI is flawless as usual.
