《Mana Tank Magus》
Thinking Positively
Maybe I just look like the kind of guy that makes for an easy target. There must be something wrong with their eyes.
Even though I¡¯m this ruggedly handsome, with a forbidding and dangerous look in my eyes, no one ever seems to notice it. It¡¯s such a pain, honestly. No matter how dangerous I am, weapons are still scary. It¡¯s not fun dealing with them. So I really wish people had an easier time perceiving my true strength, so this kind of thing would stop happening.
Those were the thoughts that went through my head as I carefully handed over my wallet to the filthy, unshaven man threatening me with a knife on the side of the road. This makes the third time I¡¯ve been mugged this month.
I¡¯ve been sleeping on park benches for the last few days because my money ran out.
That¡¯s why I don¡¯t have any cash in there. By the way, my credit cards were stolen a long time ago, so no need to call and cancel anything. My wallet is often empty for some reason. Even though I got that inheritance from my parents, its pretty much gone now.
Somehow, whenever I go out to eat with friends, I always end up paying. It¡¯s amazing how many of them have a sick grandmother and desperately need loans. One friend needed me to donate a kidney once. Luckily my blood type matched. It must have been painful for her. I shouldn¡¯t complain about my problems too much, some people have it worse than me.
It¡¯s only a short term problem anyway. I¡¯ve been corresponding with a Nigerian prince, who¡¯s going to share some of his fortune with me as soon as I send him enough money to pay the lawyer. I¡¯ll definitely have enough to buy that expensive medicine my friend¡¯s grandmother needed. Truly, my karma must be good.
As I was feeling much better thinking about my blindingly glorious future, the unshaven man¡¯s eyes bulged looking in my wallet.
¡°There¡¯s nothing in here!¡±
I shrug.
¡°Shit!¡± he says, as if I had somehow taken something from him. He slashes at me with a knife, but he barely misses me as I fall out into the road to escape. I can move pretty fast when my life is in danger. It¡¯s a special skill. One might even call it a superpower.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a large truck approaching. I acrobatically jump on to the median before getting flattened. Good job, me. I surely have excellent reflexes.
Unfortunately, my footing isn¡¯t all that steady, and I fall down backwards.
My head hits a rock pretty hard.
¡°Ouch.¡± I mumble. That crunch didn¡¯t sound good at all.
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What a pathetic death this will be. I¡¯m having trouble speaking now.
Will that really be my final word? Is that what it¡¯ll say on my tombstone?
Jonathan Orville
1995 ¨C 2015
¡°Ouch.¡±
I remember something my dad told me when I was young.
*****
¡°Son,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re not very bright.¡±
¡°Oh,¡± I said, confused. I waited for him to continue.
¡
I waited a long time.
¡°Is that all you wanted to say, dad?!¡±
¡°That was the main point, yes.¡± he said flatly. Goddamnit dad.
¡°Well, because you¡¯re not very bright, people will try to take advantage of you. If you show weakness, there will always be a person willing to take you for all you¡¯re worth. So if friends ask you for money while offering nothing in return, they¡¯re very likely just abusing your trust and your stupidity. If it¡¯s a stranger, its basically a certainty that you¡¯re getting scammed.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t really get it dad.¡±
¡°I know you don¡¯t, son.¡± Dad sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll simplify it for you. If anyone asks you for money, Kick them in the face. You¡¯re at least moderately talented in that area. Even if you¡¯re not nearly as good as me.¡±
¡°Okay dad!¡± I said. I wasn¡¯t really listening though. As a kid I had trouble concentrating for more than 1 minute at a time.
¡°You gotta at least break a few bones,¡± he said, dead serious. Dad was proud of his status as a champion kickboxer, and most of his advice involved bone breaking. I know this because he would often give advice to me in this form. Maybe that¡¯s why I couldn¡¯t concentrate so well.
Mom made all the money, though, which probably made her a better source of life advice. I knew not to mention that in front of him from prior experience involving broken bones.
*****
Right, so I guess I¡¯d forgotten his advice. I stopped kicking people in the face pretty early on after the police got involved. But I guess dad¡¯s main point wasn¡¯t the face kicking part. Having finally realized that, it must be true that the last moments of life bring you great clarity.
Dad always used to say that there¡¯s nothing that can¡¯t be solved with more effort. He would usually say this while roundhouse kicking someone in the face, though.
Yes, I have to think positively. Success is only a matter of effort and perspective.
Too bad I never got my money from that Nigerian prince. It was definitely on the way.
An Auspicious meeting with a Future Friend
So I''m dead, I guess.
I kind of assumed my thoughts would have ceased by now. Since I''m dead. Plus, I have a horrible headache. It feels like a massive amount of energy has been sucked out of me. The sensation is oddly concentrated in my stomach area. There also seems to be some oddly soft pressure weighing down on me.
Oh. With all these physical sensations, maybe I''m not dead then? That''s pretty cool. So I somehow managed to cheat death. Clearly, living positively is the key to success.
Let''s try opening my eyes.
Ugh. It''s bright. The light, it hurts so bad. Wasn''t it just night? Why is it suddenly daytime?
I give up. I close my eyes again. It won''t actually help to blind myself.
Strangely, I notice that the feeling of energy exiting my body is actually continuing. Whatever caused this situation is clearly continuing.
Alright. I summon my will and raise my head, and peek down at my lower body.
It appears my amazing, chiseled body is completely nude from the waist up. OK, that''s fine. We''ll examine that issue a little later. I am in fact not ashamed of my amazing, chiseled body. However, there''s something a bit more pressing than that going on than my amazing, chiseled body. And that something is pressing down on me.
A rather well endowed woman that appears to be in her mid-twenties is currently draped over my lower body like an octopus. She seems to be wearing... curved horns. Like a ram. They look very real for a costume. They match her black clothes very well. Is she supposed to be a demon or something? I''ll say it again, it''s a good costume. Very convincing.
Her lips are securely fastened around my navel. Her mouth makes quiet sucking noises. She seems pretty absorbed, she even has her eyes closed. I think I can hear a low moan every once in a while.
I''m going to let this continue for now. Yep. No need to question it for now. She seems busy, no need to interrupt. That would be rude.
Looking around, the next thing I notice is that my arms and legs happen to be shackled to the ground with sturdy looking iron manacles. There is some sort of occult symbol drawn within a circle on the stone floor underneath me. It''s drawn with red paint. It''s probably paint. I choose to believe it''s paint.
It''s definitely not glowing. That would have to be an optical illusion.
I''m getting slightly concerned now.
Looking for an escape route, I note that the area around the circle is densely packed jungle.
It''s getting a bit more difficult to assert that I''m still in New York.
"Excuse me," I say, deciding the situation demands that I get the woman''s attention. It''s always been my policy to be polite when naked and chained to the ground.
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Unfortunately, I must have been too quiet, as she continued sucking on my navel. I think I feel her tongue in there now. It''s really a shame that I have to keep my mind focused on practical issues concerning my well-being. I really can''t enjoy this much as I''d like to.
"EXCUSE ME!" I yell, shaking the manacles for good measure. She finally stops, and turns her head toward me. It seems she doesn''t see a need to adjust her position lying on top of me.
Probably for a completely unrelated reason, I don''t feel like my energy level is declining for the moment.
Looking closely at her face, she is actually extremely beautiful, to the extent that it''s almost as blinding as the sun. Her features are perfectly smooth, as though carved from a single block of marble, framed by fine pitch black hair falling over her shoulders.
The utterly predatory look in her red eyes kind of spoils the effect though. Um, those are nice contacts. You shouldn''t wear them outside of Halloween, though, it just creeps people out. And her teeth - she''s clearly got way too many. I''m not sure how you can use makeup to increase the number of teeth, but it''s very realistic.
" ??? ???? ????? ??? ", she responded with a smile. She has a nice musical voice, but it was unfortunately nonsense.
Uh, that''s not helpful at all. Even if you are messing with me, you shouldn''t just make random sounds as if it''s words. It''s insulting.
"May I ask what is currently happening?" I ask, pleasantly. "If I could first introduce myself, my name is Jonatha-blurglegurgle!"
She smiles again, but this time doesn''t respond. Instead, the tail attached to her costume jams itself into my mouth. What an advanced costume.
Seemingly losing interest, she returns to intently sucking on my navel. I can feel my strength leaving my body again. What a coincidence.
Alright, fine. The demon horns and tail are real, she seems to be sucking out my energy or something, and I''m probably not on Earth anymore. Just a day ago, I was looking forward to a big check from my friend in Nigeria. And now I''m chained to a glowing red circle, and I have a demon tail stuffed in my mouth. Incidentally, it doesn''t actually taste bad at all, but that''s not really relevant right now. Dad, if only I''d followed your advice and kicked that knife asshole in the face...
...Is she ever going to stop?! I don''t feel so good.
Getting To Know Each Other Over Barbecue
I regain consciousness some time later. A horrible headache is adding to my free-floating anger.
Wait... why was I angry again? Right, that woman in the Halloween costume was doing... uh... doing something. I guess it probably wasn''t a costume though. Wait, where is she anyway?
I seem to have been moved to a new location while asleep. I am now lying down on fairly comfortable bed positioned against the window. The daylight reveals a cozy wooden cabin. I would get up and investigate, but I don''t think that''s possible for now. Since my legs are securely chained to the feet of the bed. Sigh.
I''m wearing some sort of a simple brown shirt and pants now, so I guess I was changed in my sleep. They''re a bit itchy. If I were to make a guess from appearance, I''d say they were cut from a burlap sack. But since no one would make actually clothes out of burlap, it''s probably something else.
A lot of things are happening to me without my input recently. I guess that''s not too different from usual, though.
I depressed myself again. Get it together Jonathan.
Wait, there''s some kind of a hole in the shirt, at about the level of my belly button. It seems to be created intentionally. Or... no, wait, there''s no way it would be intentional. That wouldn''t make any sense, so I''m going to ignore that possibility.
Through the hole, I notice a ring-shaped bruise is surrounding my belly button. With what happened before I passed out... never mind, I''m going to ignore this as well.
Next to the bed, a table is covered with some objects that look like fruit. I say look like because their identity as fruit is itself questionable. The coloration is a striking blood red, and the surface of each fruit is decidedly scaly. I have an uneasy feeling that they may have at one point been carnivorous. Is this even safe to eat for humans? Is this possibly an elaborate prank?
Oh well. It seems likely these have been placed here for me, and I have a policy to never reject hospitality when chained to a bed. It helps that I''m also really, really hungry.
*****
Turns out there is no need to be so suspicious of the scaly fruit. It tastes a lot like grapefruit. Peeling them is painful, however, because the scales are extremely sharp, fully capable of slicing the skin through casual contact. If I were not so hungry I''m not sure I would still be resolute when receiving so many wounds. I''ll have to thank Dad for his training in pain resistance.
As I eat the last one, a familiar figure pushes through the door, backwards. She drags a large carcass of a boar behind her.
On second look, it''s not a boar, is it? The tusks and hooves are more or less where you would expect, but unlike a boar, it has 6 eyes, mandibles, and no snout. Its fur is a sickly yellow color that is reminiscent of vomit.
I could swear see one of the eyes blinking at me, as though desperately pleading for help.
With the carcass though the door, Halloween skillfully tosses it towards what I assume to be the kitchen area, where it crashes down with a wet crunch on top of an over-sized cutting board. I belatedly notice that a clean hole extends through the center of its chest, like the path of a high powered rifle. Actually a rifle wouldn''t leave a hole quite this clean, probably; it would take something more like a concentrated laser. Coincidentally enough, Halloween''s right arm is dripping in red fluid.
For no particular reason, my gaze returns to the chains attached to my feet, and I wonder idly about what tools I would need to break them, and if any such tools might be within arms'' reach. These actions are of course a pure coincidence. I cannot stress this enough. Something like fear of a girl in a Halloween costume with fruit juice dripping off her arm won''t happen even if I''m chained to the wall. I''ve changed my mind, it must be a costume. I must have been delirious before.
When I look up, her predatory gaze has fallen on me again, complete with the sort of charitable smile usually reserved for pets that become incontinent during a thunderstorm. Her eyes fall on the empty tray of scale fruit, then on my bloody hands, and the look of pity intensifies further.
But since it doesn''t make sense to pity someone as amazing as I am, I can only conclude that her expression instead indicates that she is thoroughly impressed by my ingenuity and fearlessness in the face of pain. I make a mental note that her ability to express emotions accurately may be severely impaired.
"Good morning," she says, in perfect English. "That''s the phrase, right?"
"Uh..." I respond, stupidly. I was fully expecting her words to be gibberish again, so I initially don''t know how to respond.
"How are you feeling?" she asks, unperturbed.
"Uh, well..." I think a bit. Thinking back to before I lost consciousness the last time, I remember feeling considerably drained, like all my energy was being sucked out with a straw. And then fainting. Didn''t feel all that great.
Before that, I was bleeding out from a head wound after hitting my head on a rock. That felt worse.
Compared to that, I feel pretty decent right now, extreme hunger and bloody hands notwithstanding. Yep, not too bad.
"I feel fine, I guess," I conclude truthfully. "Still pretty hungry though."
"Wonderful," she says, sounding pleased. "As it happens, I brought this fellow to solve that problem. It''s fortunate I remembered that humans need to eat regularly."
"Uh... yeah. That is... fortunate, isn''t it. Could I maybe ask some questions now? About where I am? And who you are? And what happened to me?"
"Are you able to eat it raw?" she asks, as if not hearing anything I''d just said. "Or does it have to be cooked?"
I look at the insect-boar again before responding, one of its six eyes still desperately signalling for help. Sorry, I think it''s probably too late for you. Plus, look at me. I''m a prisoner myself.
"Um... truthfully, I''m not sure I''m actually hungry enough to eat that... fellow. Maybe you could unlock these chains and let me look for something to eat myself?" I ask hopefully.
"Nope!" she says cheerfully. "Raw or cooked?"
"...Cooked, then."
"Very well, I''ll be counting on you to replace my Mana afterward."
While saying something ominous I don''t quite understand, Halloween girl turns toward the insect-boar and advances toward it. The eye starts blinking a lot faster. Sorry dude, nothing I can do. You see these chains?
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Almost as soon as she reaches it, Halloween''s right arm begins moving at an unbelievable speed, moving in complex directions. Through the boar''s body, in fact, and practically without resistance. She doesn''t even bother to pick up a knife. Now that I mention it, I can''t actually see any knives or cutting implements of any kind from here.
Within a few seconds, the insect-boar thing she''d called a karaak is neatly separated into several hundred meat cubes. She simultaneously throws out the unusable pieces like the bones and organs through a nearby window in a high-speed stream.
Before my brain can catch up to these events, she gestures toward the pile of meat with her palm, and intones a single word with strange force:
"Fuuz." she says. Ugh, it''s gibberish again.
Or so I thought, but immediately afterward, a perfectly round fireball appears surrounding the pile of meat, bright enough to blind my eyes. I can feel the heat from here. Less than a second later,
"Refuuz." she says. And the heat immediately disappears.
When my eyes recover, the meat is clearly significantly charred. I want to say, "cooking isn''t really about burning things as fast as possible," but I think I''ll keep that to myself for now. I''m not sure if Halloween is the type to easily accept constructive criticism.
For some reason I notice a few wisps of blue light swirling around the vicinity of the charred meat, but I think there are other issues currently that seem to have greater immediate relevance.
Although I really want to dismiss this all as special effects, I guess I''ll have to accept that maybe I should stop being in denial about this situation and accept it as reality. I think I''ve come to this same conclusion recently and forgotten it, but what can I say. I''m under a lot of stress lately. It can''t be helped if I forget things.
*****
Mom used to tell me that I have ''a tendency to avoid reality'' and that I ''only believe what I want to believe''.
"Jonathan, don''t just accept what people tell you at face value," she said once, after I got lost following a nice man offering me candy. I wasn''t sure what she was talking about, though, since we never made it to the van. There could have been candy. She was just making assumptions. Really, she was just being rude, I thought.
"Strangers won''t offer you anything for free. Just because you want something to be true doesn''t make it so. Believe in your own eyes and ears, your own judgement. If you stop talking yourself into ignoring your own judgement, you won''t be tricked anymore."
"OK Mom," I said obediently. Inside, though, I was thinking about candy. I didn''t really understand what she was saying, after all, so I might as well think about something more interesting.
"Jonathan," she said, sounding distressed. "I need your to listen to me. This is important. Honestly, you''re even worse than your father."
"Uh huh," I said, of course not listening. Anyway, how many licks does it take to get to the center of a...
"On second thought, don''t use your judgement. Use my judgement. Just use my judgement from now on, OK?"
*****
Meanwhile, Halloween (I should really learn her name soon) deftly carries the mound of carbonized boar-insect meat over on a plate and deposits it on the table next to me. She sits on the side of my bed with an unnecessarily flirtatious posture. As I recoil a bit involuntarily, she flashes a wide smile, showing off her abnormally sharp teeth. Her tail waves around quizzically, like a cat staring at an interesting toy.
"Open wide," she says with joy, picking up a piece of meat from the plate, lightly tossing it up and down like a baseball.
"Wha-" I start to say, but as soon as my mouth opens to speak, she expertly throws a piece of blackened meat into my mouth at professional fastball speed.
"GOahg", I continue, sagely, the meat blocking my windpipe. I somehow manage to move past the crisis and swallow it without choking. Much like what I expected, the taste is not too different from my imagination of charred sewer rat.
"Stop-" I manage somehow, but the next piece is flying into my mouth at high speed.
This situation repeats itself until all of the vile meat is gone. By the end, Halloween''s eyes are sparkling with barely restrained euphoria.
Can''t she find something more constructive to do?!
"Now you''re a happy, well fed human, yes?" she says, clearly not intending for me to answer. Not that I could answer, anyway, as I''m currently trying my best not to vomit charred monster bits everywhere.
"I will of course now have to recover the Mana I spent in order to graciously feed you. You are truly lucky to be treated so kindly. Even I am jealous of you."
Even though there are so many points I''d like to challenge here, all I can currently do is cough weakly.
"Just lie back and relax. We wouldn''t want to upset your stomach after such a wonderful meal."
Finding a hidden pocket of rebellion, I find the strength to disobey and stare with as much resistance as I can manage while inches away from vomiting. I doubtless struck a heroically defiant pose.
Then she gently pushes my shoulders, and I gently fall back. It''s not like she completely overpowered me or anything with just a tiny fraction of her strength, I just suddenly decided to agree, okay? Obviously I just decided to help her out out due to my generous nature. The charitable smile appears again, but since I already know it indicates great respect, it doesn''t bother me.
"So without further ado..." she says, licking her lips.
And her mouth closes over my navel again, in a shape roughly matching my bruise. The action is quickly followed by the sensation of energy getting sucked from my body. Again. This time I notice a few wisps of blue gas circling around her mouth, before getting sucked in.
Oh, so the gas is actually coming out of my body. Interesting.
I decide to quietly observe the movement of the blue gas in order to escape reality. Oh, am I in denial again? Oh well.
I wonder if I''ll faint again...
I Certainly Dont Have Repressed Memories
Luckily, she stops doing... whatever this is, pretty quickly this time. I guess she wasn''t as hungry?
Halloween licks her lips languidly as she disengages from me, staring into space. For some reason her pupils became glassy and dilated.
"Ahh," she says to no one in particular. "That hit the spot. I''ll never be able to drink that garbage the dealers dilute with ether again. Now that I''ve tasted the real thing, I''m even starting to believe the rumors that ''Preserved Human Mana'' is actually aerosolized Nether Rat dung. I had no idea what I was missing before. Fresh, natural human Mana is so delicious. No impurities at all, never even touched the air, did it?"
She looks at me before continuing, wearing a wan smile. She just said more words than everything she''s said before combined. Maybe she''s in a good mood now. I''d better stay quiet in the hopes she gives me some more information. Even though it''s all nonsense... well, maybe I can''t really be sure that it''s nonsense anymore.
"I admit even I was surprised, but it''s quite fortunate you survived the summoning. I''m so lucky. To be able to eat this well from now on... buuuurrpf." Her sentence ends with an incredibly unflattering belch.
Hey, she said something kind of concerning at the end there. Before the belch, that is. Ummm... I''m happy you want me to stay, but maybe you should get my opinion first?
"Anyway... I''m feeling pretty generous right now, so I permit you to ask a few questions. We''ve got nothing but time... huehuehue."
My god, that laugh... I don''t even know what to say.
"How many questions?" I ask, hopefully.
"A few," she answers unhelpfully, with an infuriating grin. "That was a question, by the way. You have ''a few'' minus one remaining."
Why are you such a bitch? I think, but heroically manage to avoid saying it. Shit, that was a question too. I almost fell into her clever trap again. Why am I having such a hard time being positive?
Questions, huh... there are plenty of good ones. Actually most of my thoughts are questions, lately. I''ll try to maximize my gains by asking the most important ones. A few are definitely at the top of my mind:
[*]Where am I?: This was the first one to occur to me when I appeared here, but it might not be the most helpful. She might also respond with something like ''my cabin'', and do the cartoon villain laugh again. I want to avoid that at any cost.
[*]How did I get here?: This question might also end up answering the above question by accident. A superior multi-faceted play.
[*]Who/what are you?: I have a feeling she''d respond with another snide non-answer to this question, so I''ll forget it.
[*]How did I get here?: This question might also end up answering the above question by accident. A superior multi-faceted play.
[*]Sucking on my navel, WHY?: I''d like an answer to this one for the sake of my mental health. It''s embarrassing to admit, but I kind of lack sexual experience, and to have this keep happening without explanation is actually taking a greater toll on my sanity than the existence of six eyed insect boars and carnivorous fruit.
[*]Why am I chained here?: The answer here is probably related to the above question, so forget it.
[*]What''s your name anyway?: It''s about time to move on from ''Halloween''. Seriously.
There are other ones, of course, like "Could you possibly unchain me and let me go," or "Could you please stop torturing me," but even I can tell those questions are a waste of time. Are you proud of me, Mom? I''m learning!
"I''m rapidly feeling less generous," she says impatiently. "Quickly."
"Oh, uh," I say in sudden panic, and quickly try to come up with something.
"Uh. What is ''Mana''?"
Shit, that wasn''t even on my damn list. Pathetic, Jonathan. Just pathetic.
"What is ''Mana'', you say..." she pauses thoughtfully. "I was sure you would start with something like ''Where am I?'', so I could respond with ''my cabin,'' and laugh at you."
As I thought.
"Mana is the primary food source and fuel in this plane. For instance, when I perfectly cooked your meal just now, I transmuted flame by converting a portion of my Mana supply. Mana is regularly generated by souls from the Prime plane, but the demonkin of this plane can''t create it naturally. Excess Mana does filter down to this plane from the Prime plane, but since everything living here needs it, demand is obviously much higher than supply. Mana can''t actually be seen with the eyes, but it''s not hard to feel it in the air if you have good senses. Supposedly if it could be seen, it would look like clouds, or maybe like your cotton candy. Oh, it also tastes really good. It might taste like cotton candy too."
She''s giving me a predatory look again. Please don''t get distracted, Halloween. I need you to focus.
She said Mana couldn''t be seen just now. I thought the blue stuff I see swirling around sometimes might be Mana, but I guess I was mistaken.
Um... there was something about alternate planes, and demons, I guess... Oh well. Let''s just accept it already and move on. I''m a forward-thinking guy.
"Anyway, now that I have acquired such excellent livestock, my Mana troubles are over for now. Technically I can extract Mana from you through any orifice, but naturally, none of the other ones are acceptable. If you ever try to revisit this in the future, I will immediately slice off one of your fingers."
"Obviously you should continue doing it the same way, it''s the only way after all. Rather, please do so, I insist."
"Silence, livestock, I''m speaking. This brings us to your responsibilities. I accidentally very purposefully saved your life by summoning you when you were about to die, and even healed your head wound afterwards. Therefore, I''ll have you remain here as livestock for the next 969 earth years to repay me for my benevolence. Supposing your physical body dies before the 969th year, I''ll collect your soul and continue collecting repayment. Naturally, I can''t let you move too far from my sight for your own safety, because the intelligent demonkin will immediately kidnap you and abuse you very horribly like a slave. The stupid ones will just eat you. Though I myself count as an intelligent demonkin, I am obviously also much more compassionate, generous, and beautiful than those you''ll find outside. So I''m afraid I can''t remove your manacles safety harnesses until you die of old age. For your own safety."
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Since she insists so much, she must really be worried about my safety. My attitude starts to warm toward her a little bit. I see, so even though she seems somewhat sadistic on the surface, she''s a complex person who can be kind when it matters. It''s not good to be too suspicious after all. I feel guilty now for my disrespectful thoughts.
Still though, I think 969 years is a little too long. I will negotiate for a better deal later. Don''t worry mom, I remembered not to let people take advantage of me.
"By the way, you have an extremely large Mana capacity compared to normal demonkin, partially because as a human, your soul produces it. But even compared to most humans you should be exceptionally tasty gifted because your container, your soul, is much larger than the average human soul.
Human souls grow larger and more delicious when enduring suffering, so that''s the likely cause for your situation. Oh, but it''s no good if your soul snaps and starts resenting the world, because the vessel will rupture and leak Mana everywhere. So don''t lose hope! Everything will work out in the end, or something! With good karma, the universe will provide! Whatever doesn''t kill you will make you stronger! Keep fucking that chicken!"
She''s right, I have to stay positive. What a nostalgic, familiar message. It''s almost like she has the same memories of some of the self-help seminars I''ve attended.
Actually, what was that last thing she said? Where did that come from?
"I''ll answer one more question you didn''t ask, but only because it''s more amusing a more solid foundation of trust if you know the real circumstances. The the thing is, after the summoning, I got really hungry due to the summoning circle requiring more Mana than I thought it would. It seems you also lost nearly all of your Mana in transit."
"In other words," she said, pausing for emphasis. "The final result was that I also gleefully accidentally consumed part of your soul when the Mana dried up. A small part."
"You ate a piece of my soul?!"
"Don''t get so upset, I just gnawed on it. It''s not like you noticed it was gone anyway. I do apologize though," she says with her eyes sparkling. I assume they are tears of remorse.
"Well, alright." I quickly back down after thinking about how she''d saved my life, after all. I should cut her some slack.
She looks kind of puzzled for a moment, as if she expected me to resist more. Clearly she must be used to dealing with unreasonable people who don''t live positively. It must have been difficult.
"...There are benefits, though! After consuming a piece of your soul, I could speak your language, enabling this very conversation. More importantly, I gained access not just to your excessive memories of pop culture quotes, cat videos and internet memes, but also to all of your most horribly embarrassing memories of your life on Earth, especially the ones you repressed! There''s so many that I can''t possibly look through them quickly, so please wait patiently as I enjoy revealing your darkest secrets one by one!"
Halloween cackles madly like a witch.
I''m having a little trouble interpreting this positively.
... I guess I have to revise my opinion and acknowledge that she''s more than just slightly sadistic. Fortunately I have no idea what repressed memories she''s talking about. I don''t have something like that. Shut your mouth. There''s nothing there. My life has been a string of relentless positive energy.
If I kill her now, she''ll never reveal what she knows, I think in a moment of insanity, before remembering how she turned the insect boar into a cubist painting with her bare hands.
Ugh, let''s be positive. Keep fucking that chicken. Everything''s just fine. Let''s repress this conversation.
And... memory forgotten.
"Got anything else... to ask?" Halloween finally says, gasping for air and wiping red tears out of her eyes.
Uh... right, there is one more thing isn''t there. I''ll ignore the blank spot in my memory from just now.
"What''s your name, anyway?"
"Ah! A name!" she says, as though it had just occurred to her. "That''s right, humans use those things, don''t they!"
"Uh, yes? Do you not? How do you even talk to each other?"
"Oh, just normal pronouns, like ''him'', or ''her'', or ''slave'', or ''worm'', you know, just completely normal pronouns."
"Even friends? Family? And some of those weren''t pronouns!"
"Well, we don''t really have things like ''friends'' or ''family'', you know. Those concepts are kind of a grotesque human perversion, you know. Frankly, those words make my stomach turn, so don''t bring them up again."
Oh, I see, I hear what she''s saying. She''s only interested in a romantic relationship, not interested in anything platonic. No need to tell me twice. I''m definitely perceptive when it counts. I''m flattered by her attention, but I''d prefer if she started acting a little less threatening.
"Anyway, if you want a special name to call me, you may call me ''Great Mistress''. No, that will get old. Maybe ''Black Queen''? Oh, how exciting!" she starts mumbling to herself, not listening to me. She seems pretty excited.
Building A Positive Relationship
It seems like she doesn''t intend to tell me her name. That''s probably not a good start for our passionate romance, but I know how to stay positive. A little drama is an essential spice to a long-lasting relationship.
It will work out somehow. I''ve just had some temporary setbacks. The universe will provide.
I start to get bored while waiting for her to decide between ''Supreme One'' and ''Decider'', and my eyes wander.
Something in the corner of my eye attracts my attention. Thin wisps of blue mist is swirling around her heart area as she continues mumbling about names, and I peer closer in interest.
She hasn''t said anything so far that explains what I''m seeing, so just I''ll keep it secret from her for now.
The deeper I look at the mist, the more I notice how each individual particle has a slightly different color, with its own personality. And that as some particles fade away and disappear, more replace them as they spontaneously release from Halloween''s chest.
Wait, no, that''s wrong. The particles are coming out of a spherical organ that seems to occupy the position in the chest that normally belongs to the heart. I can see the outline of the sphere even though it''s inside her body, because it has a very thin halo of light mist around it. The light generated mist seems to have a high ability to penetrate matter, making the halo visible even behind opaque objects. I should be able to see it as long as I''m close enough. The organ seems to be faintly pulsing within her body.
I really want to get closer to see it better, but frankly I''m a bit nervous about having my fingers chopped off. Maybe if she ever falls asleep nearby, I''ll be able to look closer. I''ll postpone it til later. It''s not like I have any creepy ulterior motives like seeing her sleeping face.
The pulsing light is hypnotic. It exudes an aura a bit like a lava lamp. After a while, I start to have an inexplicable feeling of familiarity and closeness with the light, as though I can really touch it without even getting close.
I used to like going to the museum every once and a while to see light shows at the planetarium. It''s not like I really understood the science, but I liked those flashing lights.
I hope she doesn''t interpret my vacant gaze as me staring at her chest, though. It''s not like that, I swear, my intentions are pure. Her chest just happens to lie in the same direction as some very fascinating lights.
Suddenly, a giant insect that can only be described as a very large mosquito with shiny puppy-dog eyes flew in through the window. The combination was nothing other than nightmarish.
It only lasts a split second before Halloween made a short motion with her hand, like sweeping something aside, followed instantly by a heavy wall of air pressure splattering the creature against the wall. It probably felt something like an invisible sledgehammer.
Not that I actually see it clearly, because my attention is caught instead by what the shining organ did in response.
The halo around the organ goes through a rapid series of changes in both color and shape before returning to normal, coinciding perfectly with her hand motions. But there is actually something else that is more eye-catching.
A series of characters coalesce on the surface of the organ, formed from that faint light. It obviously wasn''t English. The letters look vaguely runic. Yet, somehow, I am able to reproduce the sound they represent, even though I have no idea whatsoever as to what it meant.
"Xiuhcoatl... Zyanya?" I read aloud, puzzled. What does it mean?
But I didn''t have very long to wonder. Almost immediately after I finished speaking, the round organ started to shine so brightly I almost had to close my eyes.
Along with the light, a thick tendril of mist flew out toward me. I reflexively try to avoid it, but it''s completely pointless. All I get for my trouble was a couple nasty bruises underneath my safety harnesses.
Before I know it, the tendril of mist sticks securely to my own heart, then rapidly starts thickening, hardening, and condensing. After another moment, it resembles a solid iron chain with a slight transparency.
Then, the process abruptly stops.
This entire series of events, from when the nightmare mosquito entered until now, had occurred over the course of barely 3 seconds.
Unable to understand what happened, I unconsciously lift my gaze to meet with Halloween''s. Both of our mouths were currently hanging wide open. She looks like she''s not used to making that expression.
"Did you see that?" I ask.
"How do you know my True Name?" she asks, simultaneously.
Neither of us attempts to answer the other immediately. Finally, I break the silence.
"So, uh... Xiuhcoatl... Zyanya... was it? That''s your name? Can I just call you Anya instead?"
I hope I pronounced it correctly.
"How do you know my True Name?!" she repeats, her surprise transitioning smoothly into anger.
This time I caught her strong emphasis on the word ''True'', but I still don''t know what she''s getting at. I am also somewhat distracted by her murderous glare, which makes it difficult to think clearly.
"Well, I don''t really understand it myself..." I say helplessly. "I was hoping you could explain."
Suddenly, she lunges at my throat, hands first.
"Don''t hurt me! Please!" I yell uselessly, as her hands start to close around my throat.
You sound pathetic, Jonathan. ''Don''t hurt me,'' I said. If those are my last words...
Jonathan Orville
1995 - 2015
"Don''t hurt me. Please."
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But inexplicably, she stops pressing down on my throat, her hands trembling. Sweat starts popping out of her skin, and her face turns red, like she''s trying to lift something really heavy. Finally, her hands slowly release their grip, and return to her sides.
Oh, I see, she was just joking for some reason. Wow, she really had me fooled.
"Can I kill you with just a little bit of pain, then?" she asks, in a carefully controlled tone. Does she think the problem is with her approach? "Almost no pain, I promise. It''ll be really, really fast. All you have to do is say it''s okay, and I''ll take care of the rest."
"No, don''t kill me either." I respond. "Obviously I want to live." Sorry, I''m not going to say that, even though it''s a joke. We have to value our lives to live positively.
In response, she screams something unintelligible and punches a gigantic hole in the wall. The tree on the other side of the wall abruptly catches fire. Then she goes around flipping tables, but unfortunately there are only two. Her rage has hardly subsided at all.
I hope she can discover the joy of positive thinking.
"So, Anya," I attempt. She stiffens, but I forge ahead. "Might I ask why you wanted to kill me just now?"
"Why you say... obviously because you said my True Name," she responds bitterly. "But it''s too late now to do anything about it. Do your worst. Sigh... if only I''d killed you sooner."
"I don''t understand. It''s not that bad of a name. Is it a custom here to only use your full name when you know each other really well? Is that how it works for, uh... demons?"
I can''t really understand killing over it, but there are some similar cultures on Earth, after all. Minus the killing part, I think. Mostly.
A rapid series of extreme emotions passes over Anya''s face before she finally shows me a broad smile with plenty of teeth.
"Yes, you are exactly right. To tell the truth, True Names are only used between lovers. Otherwise, it''s a grave insult. Worthy of killing over. But since we''re such good friends, I have magnanimously decided against murdering you."
"Didn''t you say that demons think friends are gross?" I ask.
"Oh, I uh.. well, while choking you, a strong feeling of friendship suddenly welled up within me. Sometimes things happen mysteriously like that."
That''s true. The world is full of happy mysteries.
"Oh. Well, I agree that it''s better when friends don''t murder each other. Is Anya still okay to use?"
"Yes, that will be fine."
"Are you sure? You had a lot of other names you were tossing around before..."
"I don''t care about that anymore. Let''s move on. Call me whatever."
"Great!" I respond. This is good. She''s letting me use a normal name now, seems like our relationship is improving. It bothers me a little that I''ve possibly been friend-zoned, but maybe I''m misunderstanding something.
"But I have to warn you now. Never, ever, ever say that other name aloud again. If anyone else hears it, I would definitely... feel a lot of embarrassment, for sure. And I''d be forced to rip out your spine in spite of our new friendship."
"No problem," I respond. To be honest, I''ve forgotten it already. Too difficult to say.
"On the next topic, don''t ever phrase anything you say to me as a command in the future. I''ve let it slide until now, but the next time you command me I''ll add another 100 years onto your term of service, despite our... deep friendship supported by trust and equality and talking as little as possible."
"That would be bad. I''ll be careful."
Seems like I''ve really been friend-zoned, this is frustrating. To be honest, I forgot the rest of what she said. This is a big shock. No, wait. This is fine, I can work with this. She''s clearly just too embarrassed to admit her attraction.
"Actually, now that I mention it, I''d prefer if you said nothing at all in the future unless I ask you a question first."
"...I''ll do my best."
"I didn''t ask you a question." This statement is accompanied by a motion mimicking the slicing of fingers.
Anya''s really angry, huh. I''m sure she''ll get over it soon, though, since this is just a lovers'' quarrel. I''ll keep my mouth shut for now. I can show her that I value her needs.
"Better. Now you can go ahead and stare at a wall while I go out and take care of some business in town. Go to sleep if you get tired. Go ahead and die if you get sick, I don''t mind cleaning up later as a one-time service."
Not waiting for a response, she runs out out the door.
I wave at her, keeping my mouth shut. She doesn''t even look back. I can''t really understand why, but I guess saying her name was really embarrassing.
Unreasonable things keep happening to me, but that''s no excuse to treat people badly. They have my best interests at heart. It would be good if I could apologize sometime to show my caring side.
3 hours later, I start to get really bored of staring at the wall. I wonder if there''s anything else to do.
Oh, looks like I can still see that chain still. It''s extending toward the direction Anya left. Jeez, this thing caused such a big problem for me, messing up my budding relationship with Anya. She was just about to fall madly in love with me. I can''t help tugging on it a few times in annoyance, but nothing happens. I start twirling it around my fingers in boredom.
What am I supposed to do when I need to use the bathroom?
Stress Relief
Anya was in a very bad mood. She was left with no choice but to stop and dismember hundreds of demons in a brutal killing spree. It was simply the only reasonable method to relieve this much stress.
Her opinion was that killing sprees shouldn¡¯t be forced like this. Instead, they should flow from the heart, like great art. Using killing sprees simply to deal with stress was really just crass, boorish behavior.
But since she couldn¡¯t harm the one who caused this problem, she could only imagine his moronic face superimposed on these lesser demons as she ripped out the spines whole and used them to whip their families until the bodies collapsed into bloody chunks. It wasn¡¯t her most impressive work, but she was pressed for time, so quality had to be sacrificed.
Some time after the 1,000th kill, her rage subsided enough to think more rationally.
First, take stock of the situation. A weak, cowardly human worm has hijacked my lovely house through base deceit and trickery, forcing me to flee before he has a chance to further abuse my True Name. He pretended to be a moron until I let my guard down, and then took advantage of my trusting nature. Even after I offered to provide him both food and shelter for 969 years, he just threw my generosity in my face. The worm was actually a vile, cunning snake.
No good, my rage is rising again. Need to calm down. Imagine his face, crush a few more skulls¡
¡
There. I¡¯m functional again.
So these are the current issues to solve.
#1, He knows my True Name. Because he is a snake, he might be tempted to sell the information to the first demon he talks to. Naturally I cannot let him approach any population centers. Also, because he has no mental defense magic, any psionic can pull it from him. I must set a new goal to cleanse the continent of psionics soon to prevent this scenario from occurring. Alternatively, I could wipe his memory somehow or annihilate his brain, but that may trigger issue #2 or #3, respectively.
#2, I am forbidden from hurting him. I can¡¯t cut out his tongue, poison him, or sew his mouth shut. This limits my options considerably. I think I am disallowed from causing even indirect harm, which means I probably can¡¯t let him starve while he is chained. If I can find a way to silence him without triggering the condition of ¡®hurt¡¯, that will be ideal.
#3, I am forbidden from murdering him. Though I do regret the loss of his high quality Mana, it¡¯s much too dangerous now for him to live. He will need to die accidentally. I could start by loosening the logs on the cabin roof, so that a wonderful accidental death of log crushing might occur. I could also herd some vicious lesser demons near him, and hope they catch his scent by accident. Maybe I can give him a bomb, tell him it¡¯s a portal generator, and suggest obliquely that he might be able to get home if he can ¡®fix¡¯ it. If he¡¯s not a moron, it shouldn¡¯t explode, so hopefully that will be interpreted as an ¡°accident¡±.
#4, I¡¯d like to know how he learned my True Name in the first place. If he learned it from someone else, I have a bigger problem. If he learned it himself through some bizarre wormlike human ability, that would be preferable. If I could acquire that ability, I could use it to learn the True Names of some of those arrogant Devil shitheads. For now this is a secondary issue, however. I have no intention to be seduced by Greed.
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Most of my short term problems should be solved if I can somehow prevent him from speaking. Then it should be safe to be in his presence again while I wait for my chance.
In the long term, this plane is full of nasty deaths for snakes like him. He won¡¯t last a week without my active protection.
I should be able to find a scroll of ¡®Mute¡¯ in town. I¡¯ll feel a lot better when he can¡¯t speak with that forked tongue. If only I could just cut it out, it would be so much more convenient, but fate is ever unkind to the beautiful and the generous.
Anya finally decides on a course of action, and starts running towards the nearest town, called Narth. With a comfortable jogging speed of around mach 1, it doesn¡¯t take long to reach the gate.
Let¡¯s make this quick, she reminds herself, before looking towards the magic shop. Lower the chance that some freak coincidence happens, and this spirals further out of control. If anyone finds out I¡¯ve been Bound, or worse, follows me back to that snake, I¡¯m in deep, deep shit. Sometimes it¡¯s a pain to be a gorgeous, all-powerful celebrity.
Unfortunately, counter-espionage was not Xiuhcoatl Zyanya¡¯s most effective skill, and she was off her game today. She didn¡¯t notice she is observed by a certain shadow at the moment she leaps high over the town wall with a robbed ¡®Mute¡¯ scroll 17 seconds later.
Incidentally, 17 seconds was way more time than she¡¯d intended to spend. Otherwise, she probably would never have been marked. In the middle of the robbery shopping, she felt a series of tugs on her demon heart, followed by a series of smaller shocks. She was immobilized for 15 seconds with nausea, double vision, and deafness, while the shopkeeper shouted trite stock phrases like ¡°Help, thief!¡± and ¡°Stop right there!¡±. Of course, when she regained movement, all he shouted was ¡°blERGHH!¡±, which was much more interesting, especially as he impressively managed the shout as an airborne severed head.
True, she could have paid for it, but it would have taken so much time, and she has very important shit to do.
For example, planning a gruesome accidental death for the snake who was almost certainly responsible for nearly causing her to vomit in public, and eternally tarnishing her celebrity.
Actually, it didn¡¯t really matter if he was responsible or not.
Even if she can¡¯t kill him, she can at least casually start to reveal his repressed memories. The damage that created the memory has already been done, so bringing them up is arguably a form of ¡®healing¡¯ instead of ¡®hurt¡¯.
Let¡¯s carefully ¡®heal¡¯ the snake at the first opportunity with focused psychotherapy.
Huehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehue-
No Reason to be Negative about Arson
So, the fire seems to be getting closer, and I¡¯m starting to hear a fairly concerning roaring sound. The ambient temperature seems to be increasing. On the bright side, it would actually be kind of cold until now, with the light fading, so it¡¯s not like I don¡¯t appreciate the extra warmth. Every cloud has a silver lining, even if the cloud happens to be a forest fire a few minutes from burning me alive.
Well, let¡¯s consider what to do when the fire gets here. Assuming Anya doesn¡¯t get back in time, I¡¯ll have to get out of here on my own. Unfortunately, I¡¯m not sure my safety harnesses will protect me from fire, so I¡¯m going to have to find a way to remove them.
Following my initial plan, I pick up the largest scale I can find from what I peeled off the weird fruit earlier. They were sharp and hard enough to turn my hands into hamburger, so I think they might be able to pry open my harnesses.
Unfortunately the scales (and my hands) are too slick with blood and fruit juice to get an effective grip. But since there aren¡¯t any other tools within reach, so I just have to try harder.
The fire spreads inside the cabin before I have any success, though. In a small bit of luck, the first area to go up in flames is at the other end of the cabin. I probably have a minute or two before it¡¯s too late to escape. Or so I think.
It¡¯s only a few seconds later, however, when the ceiling collapses on top of me and the bed in flames.
I black out.
*****
I¡¯m not sure how long I was out, but when I come to, I¡¯m still buried in flaming logs. I guess it hasn¡¯t been very long. Quick status check: all my limbs remain attached.
I feel like I¡¯ve been blacking out frequently. I hope I don¡¯t have rbain damgae.
Amazingly, one of the log dropped rather neatly in between my legs, inches from my nether regions. It smashed the bed beneath me into wood chips, effectively destroying the object I was previously chained to. In other words, I can move now, even though my safety harnesses are still attached.
As soon as I discover that, I start shuffling between the gaps in burning lumber like a giant cockroach. I didn¡¯t get beat up by Dad one-sidedly for years ¨C or trained, I mean ¨C for nothing after all. I¡¯m pretty good at escaping danger as long as I have my mobility intact.
Don¡¯t underestimate the cockroach. They never get depressed and don¡¯t die easily at all. They¡¯re the ultimate in living positively.
Well, I still kill them immediately every time I see them, like anyone else. I wonder if they exist in this world.
Suddenly, my eyes fall on a sharp-looking sword that seems to have fallen off the wall during the ceiling collapse. The flames don¡¯t seem to be getting near the blade at all.
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Actually, that¡¯s wrong. The flames are actually getting sucked into the blade when they approach. In fact, the flames seem to transform into blue mist first, then get sucked into the body of the blade all at once.
Obviously, this sword is useful. I¡¯m not stupid enough to leave it here, even though stealing is bad. I¡¯ll just have to return it to Anya later. Since we¡¯re friends, it should be okay if I borrow it to escape the fire.
I accidentally grab the haft a little too close to the blade at first. My fingers almost flash-freeze as I feel my strength rapidly leaving my body. Sure enough, the blue mist flows from my finger into the blade at a tremendous pace.
Fortunately the process stops when I move my grip down to the bottom of the haft. I¡¯m glad I don¡¯t have to leave it here.
With the sword in hand, it¡¯s fairly easy to escape the house and sprint through the burning trees. Even so, I don¡¯t waste any time.
Even if I can remove the flames in front of me with the sword, the fire is much larger than my immediate surroundings. Fire is hot even from a meter away, and I still need oxygen to breathe. I should keep running until I can¡¯t smell smoke anymore or I¡¯m going to suffocate before long.
*****
I¡¯m not sure how long I¡¯m running before I finally stop. Whether it¡¯s adrenaline or something else, I think I probably beat my record for sprinting distance.
Actually, about halfway through, I started to feel like I couldn¡¯t run anymore, but at that point I noticed some faint wisps of blue mist winding around my legs before sinking into my skin. Soon after, I felt like I could run a few more miles. Maybe the rules in this world might not be all that bad. That was pretty useful.
This sword is pretty fun, too. If I swing it really fast, some neat looking sparks come out. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m not interested in this new world with magic and such. Yeah, this is going to be an enjoyable experience from now on. No doubt about it, things are looking up.
Unfortunately I might not smell especially good right now. I never did manage to find a bathroom, and the stress just now may have solved that problem in the middle of running. So right now I smell like a mist of sweat, fear, mud, and, uh, the result of biological imperatives.
My first priority is to find some water. I hope it¡¯s not poisonous.
Anya said previously that demons might try to kill me, but I haven¡¯t met any so far. They¡¯re probably fleeing the fire, so I should be safe for a little while.
Hopefully she¡¯ll be able to find me soon. As expected, I¡¯m a bit nervous without Anya nearby. Oh, but I have to wash myself first, this is really awful. If she finds me like this, her impression of me might fall.
Getting in Touch with the Environment
A feminine figure stood in the middle of a flaming clearing, staring at a pile of burning logs in the center. The flames seemed to instinctively avoid her.
He''s not here.
The snake isn''t here. He slithered away after violating my sacred Name. I can see the remains of the bed, but not even one smoking human corpse.
It''s not like I have no architectural talent and settled for a log cabin when I got lazy. I made it this way because of the artistic charm overflowing from unprocessed logs. No decision I make could ever be wrong, so clearly this house was the most beautiful house in the entire Netherworld.
And now he''s burned down my beautiful house. The house that took my beautiful hands an entire 15 minutes to build.
The irreverence. The arrogance. The presumption. The unbridled hubris.
If he were a respectable demon instead of mere livestock, I would even respect his exemplary Demonic qualities. But I''ll be damned if I let a snake do this to me.
Step one - I have to relieve my stress. Again. Then come up with a plan.
Rest in peace, my lovely house. Go with pride. You served well.
I''ll use the snake''s bones as building material in your successor.
The figure had a trace of moisture in her eyes as she brought her hands together and began to chant quietly. A crimson orb of energy coalesced between her palms. The orb emitted a strong feeling of danger, despite its size.
She released the orb into the center of the burning logs. As soon as it stopped, the crimson orb rapidly started expanding.
Shit. Wait. The sword. I forgot to pick up the sword. He must still be inside.
Ahhh... Oh well, she thought, as the cabin was vaporized. He was annoying anyway.
*****
I stepped forward for a couple seconds, and the trees immediately opened up. I thought it would be difficult to find water, but literally 30 feet from where I was standing lies a pool of sparkling crystal-clear water.
It''s probably not that suspicious.
The pool does seem slightly unnatural. No plants are growing near it, and the color is so clear it''s like pool water. Maybe it''s actually someone''s pool? I shouldn''t use someone else''s pool, that''s bad manners.
...I hope it''s not poisonous. Too much chlorine is bad for the skin.
Since I don''t have a sheath for this sword, I decide to begin by cutting up my charred shirt and wrapping it up. It''ll be hard to carry if I have to worry about touching it all the time. I carefully hang the sword on my belt.
With what''s left of my charred shirt, I carefully scoop up some water. I carefully bend down to try to smell it, but-
Suddenly, the world is dyed red as an unnaturally crimson mushroom cloud rises high over the jungle in the direction I came from. I can''t help being slightly mesmerized.
It''s like a lava lamp the size of a skyscraper.
Roughly ten seconds later, a solid wall of air whips through the trees and knocks me about 10 feet before I hit the ground hard. Needless to say, my shirt full of water slings it everywhere. About half of it hits me, and the other half soaks the bark of a nearby tree.
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In retrospect, maybe I should have gotten down before the shockwave hit me.
Well, the good news is, this water seems like it''s not corrosive. I feel refreshed. It''s cool on my skin. Indeed, simple pleasures are life''s greatest reward.
Yep, that''s plain water. Confirmed.
As my good mood returns, though, I hear a piercing scream. The pitch is the same as a baby''s cry, but it''s at least 10 decibels louder.
The scream seems to be coming from the tree that I splashed. Its bark is discolored and emitting a large volume of smoke.
Now that I''m actually looking, it''s a fairly suspicious tree. Considering it actually has eyes. And uh.. arms? Not sure how I missed those before.
His arms are awfully large. Maybe he works out. Must be a bro.
"Uh... sorry bro. Please stop screaming, it was just an accident." I try reasoning with it. "With such... discerning eyes, I''m sure you saw that explosion."
Instead of calming down, though, the screaming gets louder, and it makes ominous creaking noises as it begins uprooting itself.
Before long, the screaming starts coming from all around me, adding in new voices in a harmony.
Well, shit. Looks like I''m surrounded by screaming tree bro and his screaming bros. This is no good.
Oh, but I can''t assume they''re all male just because they have no visible gender. That''s sexist. Damnit Jonathan, get it together.
Wait, maybe I can reason with them. It''s just a little screaming. It should be fine if I just carefully explain my intentions. Yeah, let''s not lose heart. Everything will be fine if I just try a little harder. Even though tree bro is still smoking, and screaming, and his tree eyes look slightly bloodshot, he''s probably mainly just excited to see someone with such chiseled abs. What a bro.
I wish he''d stop screaming though, it makes it really hard to communicate.
I decide to start off by shaking hands, and put my hand out to shake with his bark hand. However, his coordination must be really poor, because he swipes at my head instead of going for my hand. Poor guy.
I won''t misunderstand though, since he can''t help having that body. Even so, I don''t really want to take a tree fist to the face, so I lean out of the way like Dad taught me.
Unfortunately tree bro''s balance is as poor as his coordination, because he falls down after missing me... straight into the pool.
Yikes. I didn''t think he''d actually be able to scream louder. That''s a lot of smoke.
Um... but the screaming stopped pretty quick. I''m sure he''s just resting though. He''ll be fine after a while.
I don''t think the other bros are going to listen to reason though. Maybe if they have a while to cool off first, it will help. We''ll be laughing about this incident soon.
I decide to jump into the water and wait it out. I''ll come out when the screaming stops.
Ah... it''s much more quiet underwater. How refreshing.
Rise of the Legendary Ball Hero
The water really is amazingly clear. How liberating.
I''ve almost forgotten about the continuous screaming above the water.
Too bad for the tree bros that water seems mildly poisonous for them. They''re really missing out on the benefits of a versatile chemical compound. It''s fortunate that water doesn''t corrode my own skin, or I wouldn''t be able to enjoy this cool, refreshing feeling.
It''s a bit difficult to swim with these foot safety harnesses, but strangely enough I''m managing just fine. I have a feeling similar to when I was running earlier.
The water is so clear that I can see down to the very bottom. The floor of the pool is fairly deep, but there''s no algae, plants, or fish visible. The bottom is just bare rocks.
One of the rocks looks kind of odd, though. From what I can see, it''s a perfectly round black ball. It stands out against the lighter colored rocks.
Unable to stand my curiosity, I descend down to the bottom to investigate. Luckily I can hold my breath for a long time. I can''t really remember when I learned to do that, but I''m sure it''s not important. Probably everyone has a couple holes in their memory.
As I get closer, it becomes more clear that the black ball isn''t a rock. It''s clearly man-made. Or possibly demon made.
It fits easily in my hand, and feels much lighter than rock would. As I grab it, I feel a peculiar but momentary twinge in my head, like brain freeze.
Text displays on a tiny circular screen on the surface of the ball.
Congratulations, Hero!
You have acquired the Legendary 8-Ball of Truth!
Oh, wow. This is exciting. It''s like playing a videogame.
The words are soon replaced.
This Legendary item reveals the Status of its wielder!
Shake your ball aggressively to see your status and be amazed!
This item is part of the set [Ball Hero Ascension (1/5)]
(Partial Set Bonus: +[Universal Translation)
Complete the set for a the full set bonus!
This is probably even more awesome than the sword. Unfortunately I probably should return to the surface before I suffocate, or I''d be shaking my ball right now like crazy.
I want to share my luck with the tree bros. They might be so surprised that they stop screaming.
Actually, I haven''t heard that screaming for a while, now that I''m paying attention. I wonder why?
After carrying the ball to the surface, the answer becomes clear.
So, it''s been long enough for the fire to reach here. The explosion probably accelerated the spread of the flames. And tree bros are apparently flammable.
Well... this definitely isn''t my fault. And I''m sure the tree bros died the way they wanted to... while screaming. We didn''t spend a lot of time together, but I could tell screaming was important to them.
Since they''re trees, I can''t read their expressions, but they are probably suffused with sublime fulfillment.
But since I''d rather not die while on fire myself, I''ll just tread water for a while until the fire burns out. Or until Anya comes and rescues me. If she saw that explosion, she must be terribly worried. She''s probably looking all over for me, so it''s just a matter of time.
In the meantime, though, I wonder what this 8-Ball has to say?
The information appears on the screen as I shake the ball with abandon.
Jonathan Orville
Race: Human
Class: Livestock
Level: 3
Alignment: True Neutral
HP
25/40 (+2/hour)
MANA
1934/3129 (+10/min)
STR
14
DEX
18
CON
22(+4)
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.INT
12(-2)
WIS
6(-4)
CHA
12
Skills Info
|Mana Vision|
|Mana Touch|
|Kickboxing 2|
|Positive Thinker 2| +4 CON/-4 WIS/-2 INT
|Cockroach Scuttle 4| +4 DEX during Mortal Danger
|Name Binder| Bound (1)
|Mana Generator| (SOURCE: Human)
|Repressed Memories| Memories Remaining (10)
|Extra Mana Generator 10| (SOURCE: |Repressed Memories|)
|Universal Translation| (SOURCE: [Ball Hero Ascension])
TITLES:
Equipment
HEAD:
CHEST:
LEGS: [Charred Hobo Rags]
FEET: [Metal Safety Harnesses]
HANDS:
WEAPONS:
- [Mysterious Sword]
- On Touch: |Mana Drain 2|
- 231/1000 Mana
- SHEATH: [Charred Hobo Sheath +1]
ACCESSORIES:
- [Legendary 8-Ball of Truth]
- Set: [Ball Hero Ascension]
... Huh. Is it just me, or are there a lot of insults mixed in here?
Why Class:Livestock? Shouldn''t it be Hero? Didn''t it call me a hero? This game is bugged.
Surely I deserve more wisdom than this. I''ve taken so many self-help courses after all. I should be extremely wise by now.
Maybe 6 wisdom is actually a really big number, and it''s just that I have even higher strength and dexterity than my amazing wisdom. 6 is bigger than an entire 5 other positive numbers, so there are 5 other scenarios where it could be worse.
Although, I get a bit of a bad feeling from my high constitution. It even calls me a punching bag. I mean, I haven''t been beaten up that many times. Not that I can remember, anyway.
I''m glad it mentions my skill in positive thinking, but I have to protest the high level of my "cockroach scuttle" skill. Actually, what is that? Did you really need to give it a name?
Mana Generator should be a human racial ability, from what Anya was saying. And that 3129 Mana sounds like a lot. But what''s Mana Vision and Mana Touch? I have a feeling it has something to do with the blue mist. Hey, I figured that out. I deserve higher wisdom.
And how many times do I have to say I don''t have any repressed memories? This is ridiculous.
I''m not even going to touch these titles. This 8-Ball is clearly screwing with me.
No, I''m sure it''s my imagination. It''s a legendary item after all. Information is power. If it feels like an insult, it must be insulting me for my own good. Or maybe, It''s telling me that I need to overcome my faults? It could be trying to motivate me. It''s exaggerating things to help me grow.
Let''s go with that. It''s trying to motivate me towards greater heroism.
As I think that, another line of text appears.
|Positive Thinking 2| -> |Positive Thinking 3|
(+4 CON/-4 WIS/-2 INT, 50% Mental Resistance (NEW))
It feels good to have my effort acknowledged. My heroic journey starts today. Though I''m not sure who the enemy is, exactly. Everyone has always treated me so well.