Two hours later, my bag had lost two points Durability: first time when I'd dropped a hefty rock onto my foot and the second when my arm brushed a sharp ledge. Had I worn a standard gear kit, the damage would have been distributed equally among my clothes, including the jacket and the hard hat. But just as Rrhorgus had warned me, in my case it was the bag and the belt that took all the strain.
Yesterday I'd been farming stones in the center of the location but today I'd decided to work near the walls and had suffered accordingly.
I switched off the bot and moved into the center. Loads of stones here. Off we go!
An hour later I'd gravitated back to the wall and grazed a knuckle of my right hand against a sharp rock. Another minus 1 to the Bag. If it went on like this, there wouldn't be much left of it soon.
I tried to switch off the app and work on my own. Oh well. As far as mine diggers went, I was rubbish. I turned the bot back on. I'd have to be more careful, that's it. Let's give it our all!
Chapter Twelve
I wish I could say that the four days in the agate mine had flashed by. True, man has a general tendency to want a lot but somehow his abilities tend to fall short of his expectations.
Today was my fifth day in the mine. I'd developed a strong allergy to the sight of agate. The terminal's system messages were already coming out of my ears. The only thing that still made me happy was the constant rise in my skill and abilities. They were the ones I looked forward to with an almost maniacal anxiety. And it was this anxiety that made me dig my pick into the rock time and time again. And again. And again!
Instead of adapting, my physical body kept deteriorating. Dmitry was only shaking his head: like, I was working myself into an early grave. Each day I raised about fifteen hundred stones—peanuts but I was making some progress.
Yesterday my secret fears had come true as the ghost of Pierrot had raised its ugly head. Once the system informed me that Shrewd Operator had grown to 59 pt, a new message appeared below,
That's it, noob! End of the free ride!
The message blinked and disappeared. With it, True Heroes Take Devious Routes also disappeared from the characteristic menu. A very real chill ran down my virtual spine. It felt as if I’d had a truss rod removed from my back.
Dmitry spent all evening trying to talk me into discarding my char and starting afresh. The developers' offer was still there, he said.
“Why don’t you choose a Gnome?” he kept saying. “Its characteristics are quite decent. You have some experience in distributing them now so you can do it wisely. Didn't I tell you that Pierrot was a nutcase? You have any idea what might happen next? Eh? Cat got your tongue? What's that smile on your face for?”
The secret was, as I'd listened to Dmitry I'd mechanically checked my bank account. Just out of habit.
“What are you smiling at?” he repeated.
Without saying a word, I turned the laptop to him, still smiling.
Dmitry whistled. “So! Ten grand! Have you sold a kidney or something?”
I shook my head. Dmitry leaned toward the monitor. “Look, there's a message here. With compliments from Rrhorgus the Dwand. So it looks like he did appreciate the tip. Still I don't think it's enough. Not for that kind of idea.”
I shook my head. “I kept asking myself why he'd never thought about it himself. But apparently, both the Dead Clan and their site only existed for a short while. I'm pretty sure he monitored other sites and forums and sold them an occasional item. But it was a drop in the ocean. There aren't that many chars that need them. And I introduced him to an entire site that was doing just that. He would have found it sooner or later, with or without my help. I just happened to be the first. He had a field day there for the first couple of days. Then other vendors started coming which dropped prices considerably. Honestly, I don't know all the details nor do I want to. It's the outcome that matters. And I have to admit I'm very happy with it. Another good mensch I’ve met on my travels.”
“And ten grand on your bank account,” Dmitry laughed. “Still I don't think he paid you enough. I can only imagine how much he's made this week... and how much more he's yet gonna make.”
I shrugged. “You know, I don't think I'm going to change my char. I'm used to this one. Pierrot was right, by the way. That's exactly what this second ability was: a free ride.”
“You should have invested all thirty points into it straight away. That way you might have leveled your first ability better.”
“Possible,” I said. “Very possible.”
“How many points have you got now?”
“Thirty-three.”
“Which means that tomorrow Mirror World will be one Seasoned Digger richer!”
* * *
I did the last two points by the skin of my teeth. It had been nine hours since I'd entered the mine. I was about to give up and drink a second elixir when I finally saw a new system message,
You've received a resource: Agate.
You've received +1 to your Skill.
Congratulations! Your professional level has grown! You're a Seasoned Digger now!
I'd done it...
I sank to the ground. The first stage was over. To tell you the truth, I'd been all nerves, expecting that nutcase Pierrot to offer me a new surprise. Luckily, there'd been none. According to Dmitry, there was no way the disgraced programmer could have changed the main profession's characteristics. They were the same for everyone. Now the individual racial settings, that was different.
Once I’d got over the initial shock caused by the ability's disappearance, I had to admit that so far nothing had been done to harm me. On one hand, I'd lost it but on the other, it had allowed me to level the rest up quite nicely.
In any case, if my brother were to be believed, nothing could be done to strip me of my skill level. So even if Shrewd Operator had followed suit and left me, it would be annoying but not too serious. I was already a Seasoned Digger anyway; if push came to shove, I could always command an hourly wage in some malachite mine and just keep raising skill. I'd have a word with Shantarsky—he wouldn't say no. But even if he did, I could always go to the dwarves. I'd done the first level already. Admittedly it meant losing time, changing the module center and moving in there.
I had a funny feeling that Mr. Shantarsky wasn't one to ignore any potential gains. From what I'd sussed out by listening in to forum conversations, Lord Shantar regularly rented his emerald fields out to the Stonefoot. He simply didn't have his own workers of the same level. Once I became a Seasoned Digger, I could be allowed into the fields with a team of porters. Why not? Okay, a wage was a wage, as long as they agreed on the loan I needed.
In any case, what was I doing sitting here? I had to visit Rrhorgus and thank him—and probably check out any new gear. Compare his prices with the auction, too. You never know, he might have something interesting there... something not listed in his catalog.
Having declared the last forty stones, I waved goodbye to the terminal and hurried over to the miners' settlement.
It didn't take me long to get to the shop. You could say I skipped all the way there, impatient to choose some new gear and log out. I couldn't wait to give Sveta a call and hear her news—and share my own. Yes, I wanted to boast a bit, why not?
Rrhorgus met me standing behind the counter as usual. “Why are you beaming like a new penny?”
“What do you mean, why? Can't you see?”
He grinned. “No, I don't. Guess why?”
“Oh shit,” I slapped my forehead, then switched off the private stats setting.
Rrhorgus applauded, smiling. “Congratulations! You are persistent, aren't you?”
“Thank you, Rrhorgus the Dwand,” I said with a smile.
He chuckled. “Ah, so you've received it, then. Don't say anything. It's me who should thank you. You couldn't have appeared on my doorstep at a better time. Didn't I tell you I knew how to be grateful? Oh, one more thing. Wait a sec.”
He dove into the s
toreroom. After a short while, he reappeared with the familiar carved box in one hand and a smallish pick in the other. I focused on it.
Name: Infallible Pick
Effect: +5% to your chances of finding an additional resource.
Restriction: Seasoned Digger
A runic script snaked along its blade,
Name: Pit Rune
Effect: +100 pt. to Durability
Restriction: Seasoned Digger
He chuckled, watching me. “I can see you're interested. I don't think you've ever seen anything like it at an auction, have you?”
I shook my head.
“I'm not finished yet,” he laid the box on the counter.
I prized the lid open. A set of malachite runes nestled inside.
“Once you decide on your kit, you can choose seven of them, one for every item of your gear. Plus the pick. It's a gift. Have you decided what you want to choose?”
“Yeah,” I said, studying the carved green tablets. “I need a Hardy Digger kit. It has a bonus to Speed plus an excellent rise in both Stamina and Strength.”
“Good decision. I'll tell you more: this is the most popular kit of all. If you distribute the runes wisely, that will allow you to stay in game up to forty-eight hours. You can check out all sorts of instances.”
As I'd studied the game's sites, I'd discovered that my rise in profession offered me quite a few interesting opportunities. Apart from working in the mine, I could now visit the so-called “instances“—locations inhabited by mobs. Swarming with them, in fact. Being a Grinder, I couldn't fight them—this pleasure was saved for the players with paid account plans. But apart from smoking monsters, these locations were excellent farming sources.
Mirror World had developed its own practice of completing instances. The paid players entered them first and mopped the location up from all sorts of nasty critters. Once the location's boss was killed, the location—a cave or some abandoned castle—stayed deserted for a few days. Two or three days normally. That's when Grinders stepped in and farmed whatever resources were available.
There were certain rules, of course. You couldn't enter an instance alone, only as part of a group of five players. Secondly, to make the experience as realistic as possible, the admins had decreed that once inside an instance, a player could neither log out nor quit the group. If you got fed up and decided to go home, you either had to exit the location or ask the group leader to delete you from the group. And normally, picky players like those didn't get a repeat invitation to join. Naturally, things happened—a leader could even disband the group by mutual agreement when all group members would be moved to the exit. There were lots of little rules like those.
The beauty of group farming was in the fact that instead of using the bag, the farmed resources were placed into special trolleys that could hold up to a thousand pieces. Which was why normally, a group consisted of diggers and haulers who pushed the trolleys to the exit. The profits were either shared equally between the group members by default, or distributed by the group leader according to prior arrangements. As a rule, the player who quit both the instance and the group could lose all of his or her earnings.
As for the resources themselves, for me this was especially important. The level-one stones farmed in instances cost about the same as sapphires. That looked very promising.
Now that I'd leveled up a bit, I had the right to use another very important in-game feature: the auction. Naturally, it had some level restrictions. Also, according to my contract, I couldn't sell resources I'd farmed in my employer's mine. Which meant that had I wanted to sell, say, some malachite myself, I couldn't do so—neither at auction nor via Rrhorgus or whoever else. The system was ruthless about that. Special filters had been installed to combat any pilfering. On Lord Shantar's estate, all resources belonged to its owner alone.
I turned my stare away from the runes. “I really appreciate it, Rrhorgus.”
“Call me Ruslan.”
“I'm Oleg.”
We shook hands. It felt as if we'd only just met.
“Every cent is vital for me at the moment,” I said.
“I know.”
I sighed and looked at the pick. He pushed it toward me. “Oh by the way, what are you going to do with your Goner’s kit?”
“Actually, I was thinking of selling it to you. Would you be interested?”
“Six days ago I would. Would have made a nice profit at your expense.”
“What about today?”
He grinned. “Today I can't. My conscience won't let me. Take my advice. Auction the whole lot off and sell it separately. Set a starting bid at twenty-five gold on your runic items—you have four of them, don't you? You might be in for a pleasant surprise.”
“But how about the “no-pilfering“ rule?
“No problem. The kit is your property. It may have been a free gift but it's yours anyway. Now: the Hardy Digger. A seven-item kit will cost you forty-five gold. You already have the runes and the pick. We'll kit you out like a dream.”
He beamed, exposing his sharp teeth. “Another thing. The Strength runes give you ten points each while the Stamina ones give you nine. I'd suggest taking four Strength ones and the rest as Stamina.”
“Why? Wouldn't it be better to invest into energy?”
He shook his head. “No, it wouldn't. It'll create a misbalance. How are you going to sustain these levels of energy without Strength? You'd have to drink elixirs non-stop. I should even take five to Strength although four to three is a good enough ratio too. I also suggest you check the auction for any second-hand Hardy Digger items. Players sell them all the time. And you'd better dump both your bag and the belt. You can buy new Seasoned Digger ones—either from me or also at auction, even though they're likely to have lower Durability there. They might also have runic bags and belts too, but you can't get them at the moment. You still need to level up your guild Reputation first.”
“Yes, I think I read about that somewhere.”
“It's a good job you're such a diligent reader,” he grinned. “When are you planning to celebrate?”
“How about tomorrow after work?” I said.
“Will do. Leuton has a few decent places with nice food and drink.”
“Excellent. Actually, do you mind if I invite another couple of peop- er, Horruds?”
“What, Greg and Sandra?” he smiled. “Absolutely not. They're nice kids.”
“Good,” I said with relief. “They helped me a lot in my first few days.”
“That's settled, then.”
We shook hands again.
“Talking about gear,” I returned to the subject. “I actually might do as you suggested. I'll check out the auction first and if I don't find anything good there, I'll get back to you.”
“Good decision,” he agreed. “You're not working today anymore, are you? So you can auction your Goner straight away.”
“I'm not sure I want to use the malachite runes with second-hand gear.”
“You never know, you might not have to. They do have runic items in the auction as well. If you like the prices, you might go for it even if it means the items have lower durability.”
I smiled. “I really should visit you more often. You've given me all sorts of tips already. On my own, I'm sure I'd have messed it all up.”
“Come and visit me then, don't just say it!” he jokingly threw his hands in the air. “If you find any decent runic items in good condition, I suggest you auction off the malachite runes too. Waste not, want not.”
“It actually looks pretty promising,” I murmured.
“You bet! You've left the hardest stage behind you now. And you did it in record time, I must say. Talk about workaholics.”
“That's what my brother calls me,” I said. “That's when he doesn't call me an idiot or suicide case.”
Rrhorgus guffawed. “He might be right. But you're still alive, aren't you?”
“I'm obliged to be,” I said firmly.
&
nbsp; “Excellent,” he rubbed his hands. “Come on, accept my gifts.”
Rrhorgus has offered you a Wholehearted Gift.
Accept: Yes/No
I smiled. No need to ask me.
You've received a Wholehearted Gift!
Name: Infallible Pick
Name: A Malachite Rune of Strength, 4 pc.
Name: A Malachite Rune of Stamina, 3 pc.
We bade our goodbyes, then I walked out onto the street. A light pick snuggling in my hand, a boxful of malachite runes rattling in my bag—I was definitely making some progress! The main thing was not to get into any more trouble. And if their Pierrot kindly forgot all about me, that would be even better.
I stopped by a miniature fountain and took a lungful of virtual air. It tasted almost like the real stuff, the bastard! I opened the chat window. Greg was online—excellent.
Hi there Greg!
He replied straight away. Howdy noob! Are you still alive?
Looks like it, I added a smilie.
That's good news.
Whatcha doing tomorrow after work?
Nothing, why? Wassup?
Just a bit of a party for my Seasoned Digger.
No! No way! You're not a noob, you're... you’re...Way to go! Count me in!
I grinned at the flow of emoticons. I wonder if you could invite Sandra for me. She's not on my friend list and I won't be able to see her today. I still need to go to Leuton.
No prob. She keeps asking me about you.
See you tomorrow, then!
See ya, Mr. Seasoned Noob!
Still smiling, I quit the chat. Tomorrow we'd talk about everything. Shame Sveta couldn't be with us. I missed her already. How was Christina doing?
The thoughts of my family made me double my pace. It took me fifteen minutes to get to Leuton. What a difference! I remembered my first journey. Today's trip felt more like a walk in the park rather than the perverted form of punishment I'd had on my first day. And once I got my Hardy Digger kit, it would be even better!
Project Daily Grind (Mirror World Book #1) Page 10
