by Arthur Stone
Pup was in his favorite gallery. He stopped work as soon as he saw Ros.
“I can’t believe my eyes! The great hunter deigns to visit his forgotten acquaintance!”
“I haven’t forgotten about you—it’s just that there’s never enough time. I’m only over for a few minutes, anyway. How’s tricks?”
“It’s plain enough to see. Same old ore, and I’m still quite a ways off from making my first million.”
“Here, I’ve brought you some meat. It should come in handy.”
“I sure won’t mind—the meat is indeed top notch. I can see it in your eyes that you’d like to ask me something.”
“Actually, I don’t have any specific questions. It’s just that I find these system messages hard to understand. Sometimes they don’t tell me how much experience I got for a mob, even though the total XP count does increase. There’s no consistency in words, the same thing can be expressed in different ways. Why’s that? Could there be something wrong with my user interface?”
“In that case, everyone has something wrong with their interface. Those are Second World system bugs. It is just too complex, and everything here changes much too fast. Don’t you mind these trifles. What’s important to you is to make money and level up. And as far as I understand, you’re doing just fine on both accounts.”
“Well… I’m nowhere near a millionaire yet, either, and though I keep leveling, I’m still nowhere near your level of Strength.”
“Don’t you worry, you’ll raise it soon enough. And you’ll have your million yet—that’s a promise.”
“Are you a clairvoyant or something?”
“Nope. It’s just that I’ve seen a couple of millionaires, but I’ve never seen a total level zero noob supply a mine as large as this one with the meat of mobs in the 40+ level range. Would you say that someone like that has got a shot at becoming a millionaire? In my mind, that’s a damn certainty.”
“I see what you mean.”
“Also, Ros… People have been saying all kinds of things, and you’re at the center of a huge potential shitstorm. You know what kind of folks we get here—there’s a lot of scum among them. Some envy you, others have their own axes to grind. The guards don’t care what you’re up to, but that’s only until Greedie gets back. He’ll definitely hear about your feats from someone—and he’s a very curious geezer, so don’t let yourself become blindsided.”
“What’s wrong with what I’m doing?”
“Wrong? Nothing. It’s just that you’re a weird noob. And there are different kinds of weird, including profitable. Greedie is one of the clan’s hounds, and he’ll definitely report the arrival of a weird noob to his mine. Trust me, Ros—these guys are very good at finding out other people’s secrets. They may be a noob clan, but they’re a power you will never be able to stand against on your own. You should start thinking in advance about how you can stay happy yourself and make sure they’re happy, too.”
“I don’t quite get you…”
“Do you know how the items in the game are graded?”
“Not in any great detail.”
“The simplest and cheapest items used by noobs and beggars have white descriptions. They are known as ‘common’ items.”
“I know that much.”
“Enhanced items have blue descriptions; good items, purple; excellent items, black; and rare items, yellow. These are the items used by ninety-nine percent of the players. They can be crafted, found, or won in battle without any significant trouble. But there are better items, too: ultra-rare ones with pink descriptions, unique with brown, epic with orange, set items with green, and legendary with red. Such items are hotly contested—people betray friends and stoop to all manner of vileness to get their paws on them. So, the long and the short of it is, you look like an ultra-rare noob—someone who can do things no one else can. And everyone’s interested in ultra-rare stuff. You may turn out to be totally useless, but any guild will welcome a noob as weird as you. At the same time, they won’t let you do much, since a noob is still a noob. A hamster who can hunt cats. A funny little noobster. Something along those lines… Get my drift?”
“More or less.”
“I hate to give advice, but if Greedie doesn’t get back before your contract runs out, you should try to disappear.”
“What if he does?”
“Think for yourself. As far as I can see, you don’t just wear your head as an ornament, judging by the merry-go-round you’ve managed to start around yourself. I don’t know why things are so strange with you, and I’ll sleep the better without such knowledge. You’re a fine guy, strange though you may be. So, my advice is to swear allegiance to anyone but the Swords. They’re a lousy clan—rotten to the core—and there’s nothing for you there for sure. Find a better option.”
“I haven’t even started thinking of clans yet…”
“Oh, but they will be thinking about you, indeed. Everybody needs talent.”
* * *
Pup’s words got Ros thinking that he might soon indeed find himself knee-deep in something extremely unpleasant. Even though he was a level zero player, the likes of which were very hard to so much as touch if one’s intentions weren’t peaceful. A clan was a crowd, and a crowd could find a way to make a loner’s life very unpleasant if said loner went against its will. How many members did these Swords have? Ros overheard someone mentioning there being around four thousand members. And that was supposed to be a noob clan. How many members did top clans have?!
“Hey, my man, where have you been wandering? It’s getting dark already!” Shoto shouted as soon as Ros emerged from the tunnel.
Too many miners turned around at the shout—there were more people in the crater than ever before. Ros realized that the orc must have told everyone the famed hunter would make his grand appearance today. Formerly he had just been another noob no one cared about, but now he was a star. Players he didn’t know at all clapped him on the back, smiled at him, and even gave him ugly looks—envious, hostile, or outright menacing.
He found those impossible to understand. He hadn’t done anything to their disadvantage, after all. The clan must have indeed enlisted the scum of the earth if they could go livid with envy over such a trifle. His success was more than dubious, after all—he wasn’t earning all that much from selling that damned meat.
Ros barely managed to get rid of the orc. The environment was by no means conducive to communication, and he was also in a hurry. He’d left his pet halfway to the caves, but he was nervous nonetheless—you never knew when something untoward might happen. Shoto ended up stuffing the bag with meat, assuring him he wouldn’t find anything better within sixty miles. Ros didn’t even inspect it, too anxious to get back.
“Hey! Will you get me around five pters by lunchtime?!” shouted the orc as he was leaving.
Ros nodded silently, without turning around.
“All right, I’ll be over! I won’t need more—you’ve brought so much meat already!” Shoto added, clearly showing off, as if to say, “Look at how cool my pal is—he can knock out five pters before lunch, even though he’s level zero.”
Chapter 22
At noon of the following day Ros was sitting next to the cart filled with pter carcasses and mentally preparing for a serious conversation. He was gravely displeased with Shoto’s behavior. The orc had to be put in his place and made to understand a simple idea: his supplier did not want his feats glorified, and he’d much rather Shoto kept his mouth shut. Ros was even prepared to break off their cooperation should the orc fail to see reason. In some ten measly days his contract would expire, and he would be free. Even if Ros dispensed with ore mining altogether and failed to receive the pittance he was due, it would hardly be worth crying about. He could wander around the caves for a while, do some leveling, stuff his bag with expensive items and loot, and end up earning way more than he would have for the drudgery that was copper ore harvesting.
“Your Cache Master level grows by 1. Current
value: 2.”
Wasn’t that great? He could just sit there and do nothing, and still level up! Making around a hundred caches in the cave and the mine was a really good idea.
The leprus jumped out of a dark gallery, dropping the carcass of a strangled rat before Ros. He lazily took the loot and was about to hide the pet, for the orc was due to come at any moment, but the darkness suddenly addressed him in Greedie’s voice.
“What’s this freak show that you’ve trained? Or is it your mama?”
Ros gave a start and turned around. The dwarf seemed to materialize from darkness, flashing an ominous grin, and said:
“Surprised? Dwarves can master the shadow art, too, if we so desire. And I, for one, did so desire. So, noobster, what are we gonna do about you? We need to talk about the weird stuff you do. First with me, and then—”
Greedie didn’t finish his thought. He had been unhurriedly approaching the cart when he suddenly hit the leprus in the side with his axe, exhaling sharply. The pet’s HP bar wavered a little. The leprus swung his paw in response to the attack, tearing the leather cuirass on the dwarf’s chest as though it were paper. The dwarf howled and swung for another hit, but the leprus was quicker, shoving Greedie aside. He landed on his back, and howled in panic:
“Get this beast away from me!!!”
The pet lunged forward, landing right on the dwarf’s chest.
“You kill Greedius Knappy. XP received: 346. Points left until the next level: no data. Achievement earned: First Blood. You defeated a player opponent. Incentive bonus: +5 HP. Bonus effect: permanent. Achievement unlocked: Player Killer. Kill 50 players whose level exceeds yours without any help to complete the achievement. Achievement bonus: random.”
Ros stared at the dwarf’s body with his jaw slacked almost to the floor. How could this be?! He was a level zero player incapable of attacking other players. Pup had demonstrated it to him once, telling Ros to take a swing at him with the pickaxe. Ros managed to swing the pickaxe, but when he attempted to hit, he became paralyzed for a few seconds. This happened every time.
It appeared that Greedie had made a big mistake when he attacked the leprus. The pet wouldn’t have caused him any harm without being ordered to, and Ros wouldn’t have been able to utter this order or activate it mentally.
“Damn, Gorgeous! Look at what you’ve done! We’re really up to our neck in it now!”
What was he to do now? If Greedie disliked him before, this would bring his antipathy to a whole other level. But that wasn’t even the main problem. By the way, why didn’t his body disappear? Then Ros remembered: Greedie’s level was over ten, and his username was red, which meant his body would have to spend some time lying about before he would be reborn.
Ros dashed toward the body and looted everything he could, leaving it in nothing but long johns. Just as easy as looting a rat—and a lot more trophies, too. Running about with a red username was clearly bad for you if it meant losing your possessions so easily.
The body seemed to have been waiting for it, vanishing in thin air without a trace.
Ros hadn’t actually kept any of the dwarf’s possessions; he just scattered them around. His reasoning was that Greedie, finding himself reborn in nothing but underwear, would not run back to the mine before getting dressed. He’d also probably take a few guards along, or even summon some of those tough-looking players with a complaint that an overly bold noob had gotten himself a pet capable of killing a relatively strong dwarf in three blows.
The clan’s top brass would doubtlessly express an interest in a noob this weird, and then…
Ros didn’t know what would happen “then,” but the last thing he wanted was to see Greedie again, let alone his superiors.
Evidently, the time had come to bid farewell to the mine.
Chapter 23
Ros had been following the underground river for a natural day now, eschewing sleep and even rest breaks. He alternated between running and power walking, his Vigor never edging over half, and had even leveled it by one point as a result of this ordeal. None of his other stats had grown—omruses were the only species of mob near the river, and it was easy enough to avoid them. He didn’t engage in a single fight over this time, or harvest a single amethyst crystal—leveling and money were the farthest thing on his mind.
Ros kept imagining the pursuit breathing down his back.
But human strength had its limits even in this world, and he realized that in another hour or two he would start making silly mistakes—if he didn’t fall down from exhaustion. And a mistake here may send him right back to stare at Greedie’s malicious mug.
Rounding the river bend he saw gravel scattered across the shallows, with a pack of omruses splashing there, hunting slippery creatures that looked like fat worms with long fins as they swam by.
When Ros was retracing his route yesterday, he noticed that slain omruses decomposed at a rapid rate, and that none of their living kin were around near the killing fields. Every pack must have occupied its own section of the river, keeping to itself. Other species of mobs apparently didn’t risk dwelling on the territory of fierce and powerful beasts that could launch a collective defense.
The implication was simple: he needed to kill all the omruses, and the area near their lair should be safe for a while. He wouldn’t need much—just four hours of uninterrupted sleep.
“Gorgeous, get the slippery bastards!”
Ten minutes later Ros was sitting on the bank, washing the blood off the gash on his arm. It would disappear by itself in a while, but he still cringed at the sight. The leprus stood still nearby. His HP bar was full—he hardly even needed to heal the pet. However, one of the monsters had gotten to Ros and slashed him with its claws. He had been too weary to react in time, and sufficiently foolish to join the fray too early with his pickaxe.
It wasn’t his finest battle, and the results were similarly meager. No levels gained and no loot worth mentioning, though his Accuracy did grow by one. The stat was rather weak, and typically grew after every serious battle. All he needed to do was throw his pike, followed by a few rocks.
Ros made a bed of moss on a flat slab of stone, and commanded the leprus:
“Stand guard!”
The leprus froze, throwing sideways glances constantly. The summoned creature needed no rest.
* * *
The awakening was far from pleasant.
“Cave Shadowcrawler hits you for 59 damage. Cave Shadowcrawler hits you for 68 damage. Critical damage sustained: your left arm is broken.”
Ros rolled aside and bellowed:
“Gorgeous! Stun! Strangle him! Drag him away from me!”
The leprus was already slashing away with his claws, but stopped upon receiving the new command. The shadowcrawler turned his ire to the pet, leaving Ros alone after taking off half his HP and breaking his arm in just two hits. And he had 233 HP altogether, after all the gear bonuses.
It was too close a call.
While the leprus was strangling the shadowcrawler despite the latter’s firm objections, Ros munched on the meat hastily, washing it down with the water from the river. He needed to restore some health before some other mob turned up.
You kill the Cave Shadowcrawler. XP received: 439. Points left until the next level: no data. Attention: you need to unlock your account to be able to raise your level. Your Stamina grows by 1. Current value: 12 (without equipment). Your Resilience grows by 1. Current value: 5. Congratulations! You have destroyed a monster fifty or more levels above yours! Achievement earned: Crazy Loner, Part Four. Achievement bonus: 3 undistributed primary base stat points. Bonus effect: permanent. Achievement unlocked: Giant Slayer, Part Three. Kill 50 monsters whose level exceeds yours by fifty or more without any help to complete the achievement. Achievement bonus: random. Achievement completed: Giant Exterminator. Achievement bonus: 2 undistributed primary base stat points, 1 undistributed secondary base stat point, +35 to magic energy. Bonus effect: permanent. Achievement unlocked: Gia
nt Bane. Kill 100 monsters whose level exceeds yours by thirty or more without any help to complete the achievement. Achievement bonus: random. Achievement completed: Monster Ruin. Achievement bonus: +2 to Arcane Knowledge, +1 to Speed, +1 to Luck, +1 to Carrying Capacity. Congratulations! You are the first person alive to have fulfilled the requirements for this achievement! You are headed in the right direction, Hero! Keep at it! Here’s a little something to help you on your way: +2 to Perception, +1 to Luck, and +1 to Speed. A hero needs to see the right path and move swiftly along it, and luck will help them see it through to the end.
Those shadowcrawlers were a real miracle, with both encounters granting him a ton of pleasant bonuses.
Then again, the actual encounters were anything but pleasant…
Those shadow-creeping rascals! Fancy them wandering wherever they wanted, caring not one whit about a pack of omruses. A rare beast—and a rare bastard!
Ros dumped all five base stat points received into Stamina. He’d level Strength up eventually, but dying right now would be most inconvenient, and so every hit point was worth its weight in gold. Pity that his clothes were the kind worn by noobs, without anything substantial in the way of Defense. Otherwise he would be protected from the mobs even better.
It would sure be cool to be level three hundred, like that Chinese player, with fifteen hundred undistributed primary stat points to boot. He wouldn’t give a damn about any mobs then—or Greedie and his superiors.
Actually, no—he did give a damn about the possibility of facing them.
He initially wanted to add the undistributed secondary stat point to Carrying Capacity, but then, upon some reflection, decided to invest it into Luck. According to the description, one of its effects was a higher chance to evade damage in a sudden encounter and an open battle. And, given his circumstances, he should take every opportunity to survive.
