by Neven Iliev
The fake nun straightened out her habit and looked at her Master with slightly glazed eyes.
“One Holy Pearl infused with demonic essence as requested, Master.”
“Very good!” exclaimed Boxxy.
If sentient chests could smile, then that was undoubtedly what Boxxy was trying to do with that toothy look it had. This was very good indeed. All that was left was to obtain a Midnight Ruby, an Elixir of Avarice, and then wait for a night where all three moons were in the sky and it could finally perform the enticingly-titled Ritual of Unholy Wealth.
Part Four
After stowing away the once-pure Holy Pearl, Boxxy turned its attention back to the grey toolbox on the floor. It opened its maw and retrieved the blue toolbox from earlier, setting it down next to the other and unlatching the lid. This one also had numerous bits and pieces, although the majority of them were various sizes of cogs, sprockets, and gears, complete with some wound springs, an assortment of tiny screws, and a collection of small metal plates. Just the right ingredients to build designs that relied on Clockwork Expertise. The last remaining toolbox it bought from Fizzy, the red one, held the ingredients and components for creating explosives, although that would have to wait until Artificer Level 10.
Kora and Xera watched in silence as their master prepared its many-tooled limbs and once more began assembling a new device. However, this was something vastly different from the Bladeblossoms it had mass produced until now. To begin with, the metal plate that would serve as the base of the contraption wasn’t circular, but rectangular. And it was significantly larger at about fifteen centimetres long and three-and-a-half centimetres wide. The Mimic’s ‘hands’ also moved much slower than before as it punched a few holes into the thin plate and started screwing gears into it.
The reason for the loss in speed was simple – this was its first time handling these delicate components seriously. It did get some practice working with clockwork contraptions in its teacher’s workshop earlier, but that was while using the clumsy fingers of a human. Clockwork Expertise also helped, but that Skill only granted theoretical knowledge. Boxxy always learned faster by doing than by thinking, so it made sure to take things slowly until it felt more confident in its actions.
Still, it wasn’t like it didn’t listen to Fizzy’s instructions. Quite the contrary, it absorbed every little insightful detail she revealed, either through her words or actions. Where to apply pressure, how much of it to use, what parts needed additional grease, how much strain the delicate gears could take before their teeth broke, and other useful tips that could only be gleaned from years of experience. As for the Skill-derived knowledge, that had mostly to do with schematics and blueprints rather than any practical advice.
[Proficiency level increased. Metal Mimicry is now Level 3. STR +2. END +2. All Attributes +1.]
Working with new parts also demanded new tools. And while it did technically pay good money for those, it could produce far better results by forming them out of its own body. It couldn’t exactly maintain its sense of touch once turning its flesh to steel, but using instruments directly connected to its nervous system was definitely the superior approach. It was a level of manual dexterity that no human, dwarf, or gnomish Artificer could hope to match, no matter how high their Attributes or Levels climbed.
Speaking of which, the Mimic had made an interesting observation ever since the Calamity of Monotal. It appeared that, on average, Skills acquired at higher Job Levels provided additional Attributes whenever they went up in Proficiency. This realisation made the Mimic feel scammed in that respect since it had already used one of its very limited unlock points on a Level 1 Skill instead of a Level 30 Skill. Then again, missing out on Attributes wasn’t that big a deal when it had Cadaver Absorption on hand to fill the gap.
Now was not the time to get complacent, however. Boxxy had been spying on a team of adventurers in the field, and what it saw was worrisome. Those four people were said to have attained Level 60 recently, which was comparable to the Mimic’s total Job Level, and yet they completely outperformed it. Not only was their teamwork something else entirely, but each individual was also immensely powerful.
That was when Boxxy realised the biggest, most damning difference between itself and individual adventurers: their gear.
Magic weapons, sturdy armour, enchanted jewellery, and potent potions. Each item they had provided them with some Attribute bonus or other special effect that allowed them to fight toe-to-toe with physically superior monsters. This was why the Mimic had resolved to obtain gear of its own. Those two shiny daggers it got off of the dungeon master were a start, but there were only so many things that would let themselves be stabbed to death.
However, when Boxxy set about fulfilling its new goal, it immediately ran into its first hurdle – enchanted gear cost money.
A lot of money.
Money, aside from being shiny, could also be exchanged for goods and services; that was simply how civilized society worked. And although the monster had some starting capital, it wouldn’t be nearly enough for its needs. Of course, it could always attempt to loot said magical equipment off the adventurers’ dead bodies, but would it really survive an encounter with them? No, no it would not. It had complete confidence it would lose if it ever had to fight that particular team, regardless of whether or not it got a successful ambush off.
And so it found the Mercenary Guild and started taking on Quests. Its initial monetary reserves swelled to about 2,400 GP, and then it went shopping. Potions were easy enough to obtain from merchants and peddlers. In fact, the Mimic currently had ten of them in Storage, although they were of varying quality. The four most potent ones it had could instantly restore up to 300 HP but were also quite expensive at 190 GP apiece.
“What’s with that stupid price! 50 HP potions only cost 16 GP each!” had been the creature’s initial reaction to that seemingly exorbitant price tag.
As it turned out, the vast majority of alchemical products had undesirable side effects. After all, the difference between medicine and poison was mostly in the dosage, and magical liquids were no exception. Consuming too many potions in a short amount of time would inflict a condition known as ‘potion sickness.’ Exactly how much a body could take varied between individuals, and the Mimic found out its limit was five potions per day. Any more than that and its body would be wracked with immense pain, its movements would grow dull and sluggish, and it would suffer a penalty to its Attributes. This lasted for almost six hours before its body could recover from the built-up toxicity.
Having experienced this with its own body helped Boxxy realise why higher quality potions were so much more expensive. One could only rely on a very limited number of alchemical elixirs during a fight, so quality was far more valuable than quantity. Buying the good stuff also meant that the Mimic’s gold reserves took a big hit, but it wasn’t too upset about that since being poor and alive was preferable to being rich and dead.
Having solved its medication needs, the shapeshifter moved on to check out the prices of enchanted arms and armour. It visited five stores, each of which advertised selling ‘mid-range adventurer gear.’ It didn’t see a single piece that was cheaper than 800 GP. There was even a really fancy-looking set of armour that had a five-digit price tag, though Boxxy did its best to ignore the actual numbers. Not only was that amount clearly beyond its means, but it feared it might be traumatized if it looked at it directly.
Overall, the window-shopping spree had taught the monster two things. The good news was that the mithril daggers and enchanted knife it already had looked to be of decent make and would net it a mouth-watering 1,200 GP if it sold them. It wasn’t about to pawn off its shiniest belongings, but that information was good to know. The bad news was that the most vital piece of equipment – namely armour – was out of the question.
It wasn’t just the cost; that could easily be resolved if Boxxy put enough work in with the Mercenary Guild. But most armour was made to fit people,
not chests. Oh sure, the Mimic was capable of disguising itself as one, but that was still just a facade made of flesh. It was an unfamiliar form that was extremely awkward to fight in as it played havoc with the sentient chest’s sense of balance and direction. Just walking around was difficult enough, so combat was out of the question entirely. Any enemy that could be defeated by that shape’s awkward flailing would hardly be considered as an opponent that required magical equipment.
And that was when Boxxy found out about Artificers. About how they could build unorthodox weapons and gear that seemingly ignored standard conventions. Transforming shields, repeating crossbows, multi-purpose projectile launchers, metal boots that allowed flight, gadgets that rendered one invisible, weapons that outright shot lightning – the list of fascinating inventions went on and on and on. But perhaps the most alluring part of that profession was the ability to create truly original works that were custom-tailored to fit the needs of their creator. Even if said creator was a violent box with a penchant for sticking pointy objects into fleshy things.
Of course, Boxxy was intrigued by this Job. Using cheap tricks and unexpected manoeuvres to confuse and befuddle its opponent was its way of life, so the possibilities it saw within the Artificer Job were truly delicious. Granted, most of this information it got second-hand from Xera, but it could easily confirm the details if it visited the best (and only) Artificer trainer in the city.
Which was how it met Cornie Fizzlesprocket and obtained the Artificer Job from her for a fee, all in the same day. Well, it also had to have her memory wiped since it got over-excited and licked her face with a clearly inhuman one-metre-long tongue, but that was beside the point.
However, it would appear that making original designs from scratch was well out of the moronic chest’s current abilities. It didn’t even know how screws, nuts, and bolts even worked, let alone gears, springs, or magnets. To say it had gone in over its lid was an understatement. Thankfully the Artificer Job and its derived Skills would grant the knowledge and expertise necessary to create all those wondrous devices Boxxy had heard about. Provided the monster put in the time, effort and resources to raise them properly, of course.
This course of action was precisely what the Mimic was currently engaged in. A future where it could unleash all manner of deadly contraptions on its foes was a tremendous source of motivation. Plus, it found the act of tinkering to be uniquely tasty. These two reasons were why the only noises that could be heard throughout the abandoned warehouse’s old office for the past hour were the clacking and scraping sounds of an Artificer immersed in their work. And the fruits of that labour took shape as a metal dagger handle with a slot where the blade should be.
[You have created a Retractable Blade of Poor quality.]
The name of the thing was indicative of its function. Boxxy opened its mouth and a pale humanoid arm stretched out of it. The Retractable Blade was then partially absorbed by this arm, sinking into the skin just above the wrist. And then the Mimic activated it by triggering the small switch hidden inside the out-of-place limb’s skin.
*SNIKT*
A ten-centimetre-long steel blade popped out just above its wrist and over its knuckles.
“Holy shit!”
“Whoa! Hey, that’s pretty cool!”
The two demons that had been sitting quietly until now let out surprised voices. Xera was momentarily startled while Kora was actually impressed. Of course, they saw the assembly start to finish, but they had no idea what this blade-in-a-box was supposed to actually do until they saw it with their own eyes.
*SNI-SNIKT*
The blade disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, although it failed to retract fully on the first try. As one would expect from a Poor quality item, it had some glaring defects. Boxxy thought this was a good start though, as its main goal here was increasing its Artificer Levels. It hardly mattered if the Retractable Blade was crappy, as the monster could achieve a far superior result if it put its Metal Mimicry to use. It had no intention of putting the thing to use, but the curious box still wondered how effective a weapon it actually was.
Luckily, it had just the test subject on hand to help it find out.
“Snack, come over here and stand still,” it commanded.
The succubus, having no choice in the matter, did as ordered and stood before her master while still disguised as a nun. She had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen, so she was unabashedly looking forward to this next bit. And indeed, just as she’d deduced, her master swung that freakish arm towards her chest. She envisioned a scenario where the blade would pop out at the last moment and strike into her with added momentum and force.
*SNIKT*
[You have suffered a deep wound. HP -122.]
“Guheh! Heeeh! Hnnnn!”
Which was precisely what had happened. The specially-designed iron blade skewered her left breast and pierced her torso. If she had a heart, it would undoubtedly be stabbed clean through. But since she didn’t, she could just revel in the delicious sensations of being penetrated by something long and hard.
Boxxy, on the other hand, was slightly disappointed. This amount of damage was quite terrible. Was it because this weapon wasn’t a dagger, technically speaking? They were somewhat similar but very different at the same time, so it was possible that its Dagger Mastery did not apply in this case. Or maybe the reason for this subpar performance was because the device was of shoddy make?
The Mimic briefly thought back on the last hour and remembered that it slightly bent the main lynchpin during assembly. That was probably why the knife couldn’t be reeled in and also why there was a small time lag between the trigger being pressed and the blade popping out.
The rookie Artificer figured it might as well take the thing apart and see if it messed up anything else.
*SNAP*
However, attempting to pull the weapon out of the demon’s torso caused it to break off, leaving the succubus with a large metal fragment sticking out of her left boob. Well ... that wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did anyway. Boxxy had shaved away too much material from the brace that connected the handleless knife to the rest of the contraption, which snapped under the sudden strain.
“Ahhhn, haaaa!”
As for Xera, she was understandably still in pain. And she was also – albeit less understandably – still enjoying it. That was when the Mimic had a flash of inspiration. It made a fist and punched the succubus in her wound, driving the blade even farther inside her.
“GYAAAH! Haaaahn!”
[Your target has suffered internal injury. Target HP -71.]
The demon fell over backwards, screaming, her mostly decorative blood flying everywhere. The Mimic loomed over her, holding one of the cheaper healing potions it had. The succubus looked up at it in between wails of pain and pleasure but had no idea what was about to happen. Surely that selfish master of hers wasn’t about to heal her in this situation, right?
Contrary to her expectations though, that was precisely what happened. Boxxy poured the magical liquid directly onto the wound. Doing so instead of drinking it would concentrate the potion’s effect on that part of the body, restoring less HP overall but instantly treating critical injuries. It looked as if the knife-eared Alchemist that sold it the magical medicine had been telling the truth, as the bleeding gash was sealed within the blink of an eye.
With the foreign object still inside.
“AAAAAARHH! ARRRGHAA! AAAAAAAAH!”
The test subject started screaming her lungs out. These were no longer lustful half-moans brought on by one’s kink, but the wailing of a woman being tortured. She thrashed about wildly as the magical liquid tried to make her body bond with the metal blade that clearly didn’t belong to it. Her HP didn’t take any damage, but the pain she felt was like every nerve in her chest was on fire.
Another tip that old Alchemist gave Boxxy was to make sure that no foreign objects like shards of glass or arrowheads remained in the open wound before appl
ying a potion directly to it. The Mimic wasn’t sure how that mattered until it witnessed the results for itself. Drinking the concoction normally would cause the healing effect to work from the inside out, causing any foreign objects to be pushed out of the body. However, using it directly on the injury would have the opposite effect, resulting in what Xera was currently going through.
“Stand up,” commanded the Mimic.
The wailing succubus made an effort to follow this order, but every single movement caused bolts of pain to shoot through her chest, all the way into the back of her head. The white-hot sensation made her stumble over and fall down to the ground, which only aggravated her condition. She continued wailing like a banshee that was having all her teeth and nails pulled out simultaneously and seemed physically incapable of fulfilling Boxxy’s directions.
The Mimic was quite satisfied with this outcome. It had no idea that a disposable blade and a cheap potion could produce a result like that but wasn’t about to complain. It made a mental note of this combination, as it could very well be used to disable an opponent in the future. Whether it could actually pull off such a thing in the heat of combat was another question entirely, but it was good to have options.
[Your familiar has been dismissed.]
Having finished its impromptu experiment, the Mimic sharpened its focus and forcibly dismissed its familiar, causing both her screaming and thrashing to cease immediately. Xera’s now lifeless physical form disappeared within seconds, as did any bodily fluids she left behind. All that was left of her was the broken off Retractable Blade. The Mimic nonchalantly picked it up and examined it. It was still in near-pristine condition so it could undoubtedly be reused. Satisfied, it sat back down in its little work area, re-summoned the succubus and went about dismantling the rest of its first clockwork-based gadget.
Kora, having watched the whole ordeal, was more than a little disturbed. Even if she wasn’t as susceptible to pain as her co-contractor, she seriously doubted whether she could bear that. Yet she was still somewhat curious whether she could handle it, in a sort of ‘if there’s a mountain, you have to climb it’ kind of way. However, even she wasn’t stupid enough to ask her sadistic box of a master about that and was instead busy thanking her lucky stars it wasn’t her turn to be used as a punching bag.
