《Strayer [Runic Lifeforce]》


 Chapter 001

    The first sensation was nausea. A deep, gut-wrenching churn that threatened to empty my stomach. My head throbbed and my vision spun. I blinked, trying to clear my mind. The air was thick, heavy with a cloying sweetness that battled with a sharp, metallic tang. Did I have a stroke?


    It was an impossible combination, like trying to mix oil and water, and it made my stomach lurch a little bit more. It was more of a sensation that took over my nose and mouth than actual smell, since it was in my eyes as well¡­ and skin¡­ and all over my body, even the insides. What the fuck?


    My vision swam, the familiar fluorescent lights of my office were no more and the light coming out of the window seemed to be swaying. Or¡­ were they flickering? The light seemed to shift, sometimes a harsh white, sometimes tinged with an unnatural green, as if reflecting off something moving.


    As my vision slowly cleared, a horrifying ceiling came into focus. Not my office¡¯s ceiling, right? It was filled with cracks, the paint was peeling off and there were clear signs of¡­ water damage? This also excluded the possibility of a hospital, or at least a proper one, and all that.


    I was lying on the cold, tiled floor of my office. I recognized the floor as soon as I looked at it. It was indeed my office. Or what was left of it.


    A section of the wall was taken down, crumbled to bits. The neat rows of shelves, usually filled with reams of paper and boxes of pens, were now a chaotic jumble of metal and wood, some of them half-buried in the floor. What was left above was distorted, bent, twisted.


    But it wasn¡¯t the changed office that made my blood run cold. It was the figures to my left. People. Two of my coworkers. Frozen in place, encased in transparent crystal with a light blue tint. Their faces were contorted in expressions of fear, pain, and surprise. Reaching out, with outstretched hands, as if grasping for something just beyond their reach.


    A low groan drew my attention downwards. Or perhaps forward since I was still laying on the ground. At my feet, half-crawling, was¡­ Mark. His eyes were wide with terror, and a dark, spreading stain marred the side of his uniform. Was that blood?


    Then I realized that the same crystal was already taking him, tendrils of it snaking up his arm like frost. I didn¡¯t know crystal could grow like that. Rather unsettling if I may so myself. Would it be rude if I ask him if he can please let go of my ankle?


    Mark was about twenty years old and started working here a couple months ago as an intern, if I am not mistaken. Overeager, over enthusiastic and oversharing. You know the type. The ¡®glass half full¡¯ kind of guy. One of those who put the effort to be extra nice and extra sociable to ensure no one has nothing against him. Sort of naive if you ask me, but who am I to judge?


    Seeing a guy like him making that kind of face brought clarity to my mind immediately. The spreading crystal creeping up his sides and covering his shoulder, slowly making its way to his neck and arm, brought in me a degree of focus that I hardly needed to make use of.


    "Vincent," he gasped, his voice weak and strained. "You¡­ you''re¡­ out¡­"


    I considered speaking, to ask what was happening, but he was clearly trying, and clearly failing, to give some information. So, I sat up as quickly as I could to hold his hand, to show I was listening¡­ and to gently let it go the moment those crystal tendrils got too close for comfort, because I sure wasn¡¯t letting him cling to my ankles till the last moment. In such a case I would have to kick the shit out of him to push him away, and that would be rude.


    As he tried his best, which clearly wasn¡¯t enough, to talk to me, I was trying my best to retrieve memories about what could have led to this chaotic mess. I was also failing.


    All I got was a bunch of quick flashes: a blinding light while everything was shaking violently and a cacophony of screams and screeches. If I wasn¡¯t in my office I would be sure I was driving and then lose control of the car, which was full of people screaming as the tires screeched, as the damned thing shook while going offroad. But I wasn¡¯t. I never left my office. Did I?


    While I was a little lost in thought, Mark finally did something other than spout nonsense and pressed something cold and hard into my hand. I looked down to see a bunch of small crystals glowing with a faint blue light. They felt strangely warm to the touch. The hell?


    "Here," he rasped, his voice barely audible now. "Take these¡­ hide¡­ and make it out¡­ Then come back for me¡­ alright? ¡­ I''m done for¡­ your turn¡­"


    His eyes rolled back, he passed out. I watched as the crystallization reached his face, encasing him completely. I let go of his hand as smoothly as possible. Then he became a crystal statue as well. I looked to my left, and saw Susan and John also crystallized. My whole team was accounted for.


    I stared at the shards in my hand, my mind trying to make sense of what Mark said. Hide? Make it out? Come back? What did it all mean? What was this place?


    I focused on the shards, turning them over in my fingers. They felt¡­ significant. Important. And then something clicked, as if there was a sudden understanding between me and the crystals. A thought formed in my mind: what the hell are these?


    A faint blue light emanated from the shards, and a disembodied voice echoed in my head.


    [Spirit Shards. Primary currency and resource. Use a Spirit Shard to query the System for information.]


    The voice was cold, clinical, devoid of any emotion. It felt like interacting with a machine, a vending machine that dispensed information instead of snacks. And I am quite sure it made a point to let me see it as such.


    My analytical mind, honed from years of managing complex supply chains and playing dubious games from small independent studios that diverged from the mainstream concepts of ¡°fun¡±, immediately latched onto the concept of information as a resource. If these shards were currency, then information was the commodity. I closed my eyes, focusing on one of the shards, and formed a question in my mind: What happened here?


    [Nine worlds have been merged by the System. Spiritual essence has been introduced to facilitate integration and prepare all worlds now connected as one for entry into the Myriad Realms. This area is designated a Temporal Instance, a space encased by a spiritual barrier that protects survivors who have fallen within as well as the circumstances of a localized survivor group''s demise.]


    The information was concise, factual, and utterly devoid of context. Nine worlds merged? Myriad Realms? It sounded like something out of a bad high fantasy game. But the crystalized figures around me were undeniably real. And there was one less crystal in my palm. Nine remaining.


    I spent another shard. What¡¯s my role in this scenario?


    [You are designated Survivor 7349 of this instance. Previous occupations: University Supply and Demand Manager, Logistics Logger and Acquisitions Auditor. Trapped in the instance during the first stage of integration, 78 days ago according to local time, and recently rescued. You have no role or goal except those you create for yourself.]This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    That was a lot. 78 days ago I got screwed. Rescued only now and by a dying Mark. There¡¯s no role or goal set, which means there might be no true significance to my actions, or that the impact I will be able to make would be only localized in a global catastrophe such as this, or someone else is the actual protagonist, or that everything is already doomed, or that no one cares. How rude.


    I will go with ¡®insignificant¡¯ since this ¡®system¡¯ didn¡¯t even bother with my name. Despite being clearly aware of who I am and what I do, or used to.


    Thinking about my lovely job I remembered the endless spreadsheets, the meticulous inventory and storage checks, the satisfaction of optimizing complex logistical puzzles. It felt like a lifetime ago. Or maybe I just have a concussion. If not both.


    Either way, I was rescued, so¡­


    Eight shards remaining. He goes another shard. What are these¡­ crystals encasing people?


    [Crystal Shell. Contain survivors trapped within the Instance. It prevents survivors from expiring too soon and allows them to slowly recover over time. Survivors encased in crystals can now act as spiritual energy sources, sustaining themselves, this Instance and providing power to the System. Five spirit shards required to remove the protective crystal shell.]


    The image of my coworkers, trapped and used as batteries, sent a shiver down my spine. This wasn¡¯t just like a simple disaster; it was an exploitation. A cold, calculated harvesting of human lives, or maybe their potential since they aren¡¯t really dead. Milking them for¡­ spirit energy? Whatever.


    Seven shards remaining. So, the people in¡­ crystal shells, aren¡¯t dead and can be rescued at any time, no matter how long has passed, as long as someone comes to release them, which takes five shards, which means no one truly dies within this¡­ instance?


    [Correct.]


    Well, that was sort of a waste of one fine shard. I was hoping for some more exposition. But, thank you for being concise, I guess.


    Good news: no one in this instance is dead or will ever be dead.


    Bad news: everyone might end up as a battery for the rest of your days, which might just mean for all eternity since the system did say the crystal works as some mumbo jumbo support system.


    I got a couple big queries to make, but I will leave those for later. Need more basic info.


    Six shards remaining. So, what¡¯s the system¡¯s role in all this?


    [This system is a neutral entity with the sole purpose of facilitating the integration of this newly formed lower world into the myriad realms regardless of the outcome of native species. The system preserves and entices the flow of spiritual energy to slowly enrich this lowly world.]


    Ouch. It could have made it a little less edgy. So, It tidies up and cleans the place for others to make use of it. And I already know it charges lots of shards for that service. Anyway, I will call it pool bot from now on. Because that¡¯s what it is.


    It doesn¡¯t really care if people are free or trapped because if it doesn¡¯t get energy it will get shards instead. I am out of my cozy crystal coffin for what? One minute? And already spent five shards. Not to mention Mark spending five shards to get me out, which means it made ten shards already.


    Oh, wait. That isn¡¯t good. My mind suddenly thinks of a rather troublesome possibility.


    I had five shards. I could rescue Mark right now, except I couldn¡¯t. He said I should get out and then come back for him, he surely knows better than me. And I don¡¯t know about that injury in his torso, maybe releasing him right now would just end with him being encased again.


    I would love to ask about that, but I need to confirm just how screwed I am.


    With only five shards remaining, I finally asked the crucial question: How do I leave this place?


    [Exiting a Temporal Instance requires 10 spirit shards per individual. Reach the border and focus on leaving, the shards will be taken and you will traverse the barrier as if it isn¡¯t there.]


    The words echoed in my mind, cold and final. I looked at the four shards remaining in my hand, then back at the crystal coffins surrounding me. An impulse to burst out profanities loudly came over me, but was swiftly dealt with. Or not.


    Did I just spend over half of my escape fund to learn about the nature of my prison? Damn it.


    This thing charges people for information, for freeing others, to let them leave this instance, which means there are probably other instances out there, and who knows what else. Because that¡¯s only what I found out so far, in a couple minutes. And it obviously keeps people in fancy crystal coffins that prevent them from dying because dead people probably don¡¯t work like good little batteries. Shit.


    So, this system needs spirit stuff. And we are the providers. Which means we are the one paying to have our world screwed by the integration, the system, the myriad realms or whatever. For it to be used after this integration by the system, the myriad realms or whatever. Quite the brilliant scheme. Fuckers.


    Before I could really ask a couple big questions that would cement my opinion that we are all very much screwed, a low growl echoed through the office.


    It was a guttural sound, like a reptile¡¯s hiss mixed with a dog¡¯s snarl. It came from behind the section of the wall that had crumbled next to the former shelves. And obviously there was no longer a door there to stop whatever was on the other side from meeting me here.


    Mark was far from being in top shape when he got me out.


    Then there¡¯s a hissing growl coming from behind a half crumbled wall.


    Ok, reflection time is over.


    Two shards were swiftly spent. I need information. Crucial information. And I did get it. Not enough for me to know what I am dealing with, but enough for me to know what I could possibly face.


    [Nine worlds were merged. Creatures from all nine worlds inhabit this single world now and they are considered its native species, terrans. Within instances, a creature usually subdues the opposition to assume the position of ruler. The system doesn¡¯t interfere in these events and supports the method chosen by natives to determine who will lead them. The system also doesn¡¯t interfere with external factors that could change the balance within a given instance.]


    The system supports the method chosen by the natives¡­ So, carnage and mayhem is fine?


    [This instance initially had half a dozen types of creatures suitable for the position of ruler. Although most of them are of questionable intellect, a single species was deemed worthy of the system¡¯s true blessing, humanoid terrans, even though they never made it to the list of potential rulers they were given the means to interact with spirit energy at a basic level to further enhance their potential, elevated to the standards of the proper human race as seen in the myriad realms. Be aware: all species are eligible for enhancement by using shards, either consciously or instinctively, which might cause a change in the power dynamics, which the system doesn¡¯t oversee.]


    Well, this enhancement thing does sound good. But can it be trusted? And can I get a freaking status sheet or something? It would help. A lot. Nothing? Figures.


    So, we didn¡¯t even make the list of potential rulers but were fine as potential batteries? That was the system¡¯s true blessing? How nice.


    And to make things better we weren¡¯t even considered humans before the blessing? Just terrans, like the plants or the bugs? A term relative to this planet, as in natives, I assume. And now we were elevated like our clearly superior colonizers? Can¡¯t be bothered to think about this now.


    I positioned myself at the back of the office and turned towards the sound, my heart pounding in my chest. Emerging from the rough stone was a bipedal creature roughly one meter tall, but it would easily be two meters tall if it stood erect, because it wasn¡¯t humanoid, but a freaking five meter long velociraptor croc thing. Was that a mini finless spinosaurus? Damn it.


    It moved with a surprising grace, its thick, heavy tail swaying behind it. Its skin was covered in rough, green scales, and its head was a grotesque mix of reptile and mammal, with a long snout filled with sharp, serrated teeth. It resembled a velociraptor on steroids with the mouth of an alligator. Shit.


    The thing sniffed the air, its reptilian eyes fixing on me. It didn¡¯t seem very fast, but it transmitted a weird sense of purpose that was deeply unsettling. Then, it took a step forward, revealing two more of the creatures behind it. They moved slowly, carefully, cornering their prey. Fuck.


    In retrospect, Mark''s first instruction after giving me the shards really was ¡®hide¡¯, wasn¡¯t it?

 Chapter 002

    Now I know what got Mark in such a state. And why he told me to hide.


    Three five-meter long velocicrocs sure would make anyone a little nervous.


    And there goes another shard.


    [These bipedal crocodilians appear to have assumed the role of rulers in this particular instance. They are quite resilient and, even though on the slow side while on land, are adept at lunging using its strong legs to both jump and pin down their prey as they feast. They are prowlers, roaming around while using pack tactics and their enhanced senses of smell and hearing. They are also lurkers, waiting for the right opportunity to attack while having a predilection for ambushes. They can be considered as a versatile armored unit tailor made for engaging enemies in swamps, bogs, marshes, rivers and lakes since their outstanding swimming capabilities make them excel in such environments while their poor climbing capabilities usually don¡¯t come into play.]


    The creature was rather scary. I would probably be shaking in my boots if I hadn¡¯t spent the last shards finding out what could be in store for me. Those things? Sure they were nasty, but they do belong to a very particular category of creatures. The one I can deal with. Sort of.


    I looked at the creatures, observing their strong legs and tail, plus flimsy and short upper limbs. I smirked. Half amused, half panicked. As expected from anyone in such a situation. Or so I would like to think. I am pretty sure I am going crazy.


    They were indeed classified as crocodilian despite looking more like dinosaurs, but they were terrible climbers and not built for fast sprints. Unfortunately they were good at tracking and relied on pack tactics and ambushes. I was sort of hoping for the dumber pursuer type. But this will do.


    They probably don¡¯t have fancy abilities of any kind, although some might develop them by using the shards instinctively, even if unlikely. And the same applies for me. Shards were the key. The system wants them and will trade you pretty much anything for it. While keeping the balance, or trying to.


    I looked back at the crystalized figures, at Mark''s frozen face, and then back at the creatures. I just came out of one of those, and the odds were that I would just be sent right back to joining the crystal people in helping the system. But I wasn¡¯t the same guy who escaped the crystal seconds ago.


    I have changed my odds in mere seconds due to a single change. I had information now.


    The largest of the three velocicrocs tilted its head, a low growl rumbling in its throat. Its eyes, cold and reptilian, never left me. The other two shifted slightly, flanking it, their thick tails twitching.


    They were getting close, too close. My small office, once a sanctuary of paperwork and logistical puzzles, had become a hunting ground.


    My mind raced, assessing the situation. And in a fraction of a second, I was ready to go.


    They were big, powerful, lungers even if not jumpers, and clearly adept at hunting in packs. But they weren¡¯t built for climbing. I suppose their heavy bodies and short limbs made vertical movement difficult. It didn¡¯t matter. Not really. Not now.


    I took one step back without taking my eyes off the creatures. Then I bolted towards the window behind me, ignoring the sharp pain in my knees as I scrambled onto my desk. That was sort of stupid, but I didn¡¯t have time to study the new layout of my office before running for my life.


    The glass was surprisingly intact, a small mercy in this chaotic world, although I couldn¡¯t be sure why this information was of any relevance to my adrenaline drenched brain. I shoved it open, the hinges groaning in protest, and clambered out onto the narrow ledge.


    I couldn¡¯t bother to look behind me. No time. It¡¯s not like I could stare the creatures into giving up, make them slow down in doubt or convince them to not kill me by using puppy eyes. I am pretty sure they eat puppies.


    The drop to the ground was a good two stories, a fall I, most likely, wouldn¡¯t survive. Especially if one of those things came after me, or worse, landed on top of me, they must weigh a couple hundred kilograms, at least.


    But it didn¡¯t matter. I never intended to jump. Just to the side of the window, running down from the roof, was the thick and sturdy drainpipe.


    I reached for it, my fingers wrapping around the cold, metal pipe. It was slick with moisture, making it difficult to grip. But the bracers that fixed it to the wall were a very safe place to grab into. And used as steps in what might be considered a rather scary ladder.


    Well, it would be scary on your regular day. When the other option wasn¡¯t facing three velocicrocs the size of horses you sort of get an instant update to your perceived danger scale.


    I pulled myself up, my muscles screaming in protest. I wasn¡¯t exactly in peak physical condition; years spent hunched over spreadsheets hadn¡¯t done wonders for my physique. God, I loved my job and now I am climbing pipes towards roofs to escape dinosaurs. This sucks.


    The creatures below hissed and snapped, their frustration palpable. They couldn¡¯t reach me. But I could imagine their willingness to wait to catch me. To keep watch. To roam the corridors and circle the building for a chance.


    I continued to climb, pulling myself. My arms burned. The pipe swayed slightly under my weight, threatening to throw me off. Or maybe it was me getting lightheaded from the sudden influx of exercise. I glanced down, and the sight of a pair of snouts protruding out of the window and sniffing spurred me on. Fuck that shit.


    I reached the roof, collapsing onto the rough surface, gasping for breath. The sudden shift from terror to relief was almost overwhelming. For the moment, at least, I was safe.


    I was about to scramble to my feet and make haste to close the door that gives access to the roof when I remembered. The corridor that led to it was too narrow for those things. Well, not exactly too narrow, they could fit, but they wouldn¡¯t be able to make the last two turns, too cramped for them. I never thought I would be thankful for such spiral staircases. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I took my time. Taking deep breaths. And thanking the fact I am being pursued by giant lizards that suck at climbing and have no smaller versions that can reach me. If instead of horse sized things I was expected to deal with cat sized pterodactyls, then I would be truly screwed now.


    I get up, my legs shaky. Exercise, bad. The door to the roof access was slightly ajar. I silently close it and slide the bolt lock. I knew it could be open from the inside, but I bet those things weren¡¯t going to get this far. The metal clicked reassuringly. It was a flimsy barrier, at best. But it was what I had.


    Those creatures were strong; they could probably tear the door off its hinges if they could reach it and really wanted to give it a try. But I was most likely safe on the roof.


    I wouldn¡¯t bet my life on it, though.


    I turned my attention to my surroundings. The roof was flat and open, offering a panoramic view of the university and the surrounding area. And it was a horrifying sight.


    The once familiar campus was now a grotesque patchwork of different environments.


    The library, as I had seen from my office, was now partially fused with a massive redwood tree.


    The science building was half-submerged in what looked like a swamp, complete with gnarled cypress trees and murky water. Never going there, that¡¯s velocicroc country.


    Worst of all, the three buildings should be almost glued together. A crazy person could certainly jump from one roof to another before. They were now a couple hundred meters away from each other. It seems the world has gotten a lot larger. The city center must be thousands of miles away now.


    Far away, the city skyline seemed jagged and uneven, with buildings merged and distorted in impossible ways. I couldn¡¯t really see it. There was a haze or mist or whatever all over the place. If that was even the city. It might be just a forest of giant crooked trees or gravity defying mountains.


    The sky, still a swirling kaleidoscope of colors, was now tinged with a sickly yellow haze. The air, while still carrying the strange mix of scents, was surprisingly refreshing.


    I scanned the rooftops of the nearby buildings, searching for any sign of other survivors. But I saw nothing. No movement, no smoke from fires, no signs of life at all. The entire campus seemed deserted, except for the creatures below.


    The same chilling thought struck me, again. I just hadn¡¯t time to contemplate it fully since I was sort of interrupted by giant velocicrocs that wanted to eat me. Now I do. Unfortunately.


    Then my last shard was gone. A simple yet essential query to the system.


    [This instance contains a total of 8463 humans. None of said humans have spent the fifty spirit shards required for the acquisition of their initial trait, skill, ability or other enhancement. Do your best to collect the spirit shards in the vicinity of dungeons, within dungeons or defeating hostile entities. Number of active humans in this instance: 1.]


    And¡­ I was out of shards.


    Those shards were well spent, but that doesn¡¯t mean I liked the information I got. Sigh.


    I am alone in this place. It¡®s just me, the crystal statues, over 8000 of them, and the freaking velocicrocs. I would love to ask how many of those are out there, but I no longer have shards.


    And that¡¯s not considering the fact that other things, scarier things, might find their way here and the system won¡¯t tell me shit about that. It didn¡¯t say it outright, but it sure implied it.


    I did consider spending my last shard in more tangible information, but I simply knew I had to know just how much is at stake here. And the answer was simple: a lot. I¡¯m the only one ¡°active¡± and the chance of any kind of rescue coming is basically null.


    As it turns out, there are dungeons. Not really surprising all things considered. And I suppose my best bet is finding one, because there will be no ¡®defeating hostile entities¡¯ when this means going up against those damn things.


    I sat down heavily on the edge of the roof, my mind reeling. I had no idea how to get out of this mess. Mark''s last words echoed in my mind: Hide¡­ make it out¡­ Come back for me¡­


    Come back? How? I couldn¡¯t even leave. I had no idea how to even leave this very first building, let alone get the shards and then leave and then return to where Mark was now trapped.


    I remembered the shards, the spirit shards. They were the key. I had to spend them all just to get some basic information. But it was well worth it. Even if a cold dread settled in my stomach.


    I remembered the System¡¯s responses. They were cold, clinical, and transactional. It hadn¡¯t offered any help, any advice, it didn¡¯t take sides. It had simply provided information in exchange for shards. It was a tool, nothing more. A vending machine was a fitting description. And it was greedy.


    I most likely need to improve my odds. And this means enhancements. But fifty shards? As far as I am concerned this could be an astronomical sum, because it¡¯s a fortune I couldn¡¯t even dream of possessing right now.


    But the crux of the matter is that I could become stronger. I could gain abilities, perhaps even super powers, by using these shards. Not sure as of now, but I will be sure and then I will be powerful.


    I would have loved to cover the system with all sorts of questions, to study all the possibilities, to truly explore the options and how they connected with each other. It did mention that this was the cost for the ¡®initial¡¯, which means there are more than one and this means they can complement and boost each other later. And I do love theorycrafting.


    Was that why Mark got me out? Has he been peeking at my notebook screen when he was supposed to be working harder so I can have more time off?


    Spirit shards. They are the key to unlock the potential needed for ¡°what may be¡¯ my future self. It¡¯s an intoxicating concept for anyone who likes games, or simply likes the possibility of blowing up giant lizards without relying on anything other than your own power.


    But I had none. What I had was an island of safety in the shape of a roof, surrounded by velocicroc infested waters on all sides. I was cornered, alone, powerless and shardless. For now.


    At least I was safe. Kind of.


    I looked out at the ruined landscape, the swirling sky, the distant rooftops. The world had changed drastically and I was utterly unprepared for it. But I refused to become another crystal statue and wait for rescue. Mark almost implied that I was supposed to be the rescue team. So, all I need to do is to remain out of the reach of those things and collect spirit shards. How hard could it be?


    Quite hard, as it turned out.


    The view from the rooftop offered a grim panorama. The university campus, once a familiar grid of buildings and green spaces, was now a fractured mosaic of mismatched landscapes. A section of the football field was now a cracked, barren wasteland, littered with strange, obsidian shards. The student union was fused with gnarled alien trees, their branches looked more like some giant ivy twisting through the building¡¯s windows.


    My eyes scanned the rooftops of the adjacent buildings, searching for a viable escape route. I needed to stay off the ground, to find a way to navigate this new world without becoming prey. My mind, trained in this sort of thing, immediately began to assess the possibilities.


    Ok, I have done things like this before. It¡¯s no big deal. The floor is lava. That¡¯s all.


    ¡­


    Shit.

 Chapter 003

    The floor is lava. You got this. Think, damn it.


    The roof of the library, partially consumed by the redwood tree, was the closest. It was slightly lower than the building I was on, but the gap was obviously insurmountable. And even if I could make such a jump, the landing zone looked precarious. The roof was covered in loose tiles, and a misstep could send me tumbling down. It¡¯s much worse than the roof I¡¯m currently on.


    Beyond the library, the rooftops of the student dorms became even more fragmented, separated by wider gaps and varying heights. It would be a treacherous route, requiring multiple climbs. Both up and down. And even if I managed to navigate it, I would eventually have to come down.


    My gaze drifted down to the ground. Two of the three reptilian creatures were still down there, circling the base of the building and hissing, their eyes fixed on the roof. They hadn¡¯t given up. They were patient hunters, willing to wait for their prey to make a mistake.


    There was no easy way down. No fire escapes, no accessible ladders. I would have to jump, or find another way. Neither option was appealing.


    A thought struck me. The fire hose. Every building had them, stored in red metal cabinets, one on each floor, one near the entrance and¡­ one near the roof access. And next to them, a fire axe.


    The axe might come in handy, but it was the hose I was really after. Those things were incredibly resilient, designed to withstand high pressure. It would be strong enough to support my weight, and long enough to reach the ground. A way those creatures couldn¡¯t follow or guard.


    The decision was made. I would have to go back inside. And I was perfectly aware there were only two of the scaly things visible down there.


    I took one last look at the floors down below from the edge of the roof, trying to memorize the layout while identifying dead ends and potential escape routes. But there wasn¡¯t really much I could tell, not from here. So, I turned back to the roof access door.


    I got a plan. A simple one.


    The bolt was still in place. I slid it back, the metal scraping against metal. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open, cautiously peering into the narrow corridor.


    It was dark and dusty, the air thick with the smell of stale air and mold. The corridor was cramped, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Those creatures, with their bulky bodies and thick tails, would have a hard time navigating this space.


    This brought my plan back to my mind for a moment. It was sort of a gamble, but it was the best option I had. To bet those creatures wouldn''t be able to follow me. To be that the structures that could grant me protection against them wouldn¡¯t be partially destroyed, letting them come after me.


    I slipped into the corridor, moving quickly and silently, my footsteps muffled by the thick layer of dust on the floor. Days worth of dust, a couple of months at least, I noticed. Just like the system said.


    78 days ago, this mess started. And I was trapped in crystal this whole time.


    The system surely didn''t hold back punches. It had no qualms about telling me I was encased in crystal for two and a half months with the same tone as someone reciting a grocery shop list.


    But at least I seemed fine. Not really weakened or anything. Or at least not more than my usual self after climbing improvised vertical stairs and now searching for firefighting supplies within a building with a potential five-meter-long man eating lizard waiting to bite my head off. Delightful.


    The corridor led to a small storage room, cluttered with old furniture and discarded equipment. I carefully navigated through the clutter, avoiding anything that might make noise.


    The fire hose cabinet was on the far side of the room, painted a bright, almost garish red. I approached it cautiously, my heart pounding in my chest.


    The cabinet was locked, but the glass was cracked. I reached out and carefully pried away the broken shards. Inside the cabinet, the fire hose was neatly coiled, its brass nozzle gleaming in the dim light. Next to it, mounted on the wall, was the fire axe. Its head was heavy and slightly duller than I expected, but it seemed quite sturdy.


    I grabbed the axe, hefting it in my hand. It felt surprisingly balanced, even with its weight. It wasn¡¯t a weapon I was trained to use, because I wasn¡¯t trained to use any, but it was better than nothing.


    I turned my attention to the hose. It was thick and heavy, made of a durable canvas material. I uncoiled it carefully, checking for any damage. It seemed to be in good condition.


    I detached it and carried the hose to the roof access door. It was heavier than I thought. I opened the door slightly and peered out onto the roof. It¡¯s still peaceful. No sign of gator number three so far.


    I quickly secured one end of the hose to a sturdy metal beam near the edge of the roof, wrapping it around several times and tying it off with a tight knot. I checked the knot twice, making sure it was secure.


    Then, I pushed the other end of the hose over the edge of the roof and carefully let it descend in a controlled and smooth manner. It unspooled without problem, reaching all the way to the ground. So far, so good.


    I tested the hose, putting my weight on it cautiously. It held firm. It was my escape route. I just need to make sure if it was still a feasible one.


    I went back to check on the two gators that were circling the building. Turns out that they somehow draw the attention of more stinking lizards. There were seven of them now.


    If I get caught by them I go back to become a crystal. Apparently we, as in humans, were the only species that cleared the system`s benchmark when it came to some usefulness rank among all the creatures from nine different worlds that got thrown into this mix.


    Fortunately and unfortunately, this means we are suitable to be turned into vessels that can draw and circulate spirit energy, fancy system batteries if you will, encased in crystal and sustaining the system, its inner workings and this place.


    This is not as bad as I first believed. This allows the system to sustain this instance. To let people in and out by using spirit shards. Death is not the end, or so it seems. And this means there''s really a chance for a rescue party to make it here, deal with the lizards and free everyone.


    But I won¡¯t count on that. Not when over two months went by while I was trapped in a crystal coffin and the only person that came back to the rescue was a half dead Mark. He probably set me free because I was the one standing closer to what used to be the door. Yeah, right. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    I made a quick mental summary of everything I got from the system after spending all the ten spirit shards that Mark gave me. And which I assume were intended for me to cross the border. Sigh.


    The pitiful amount of information I had was barely enough to get me going.


    Keep away from crocs. Bitches can¡¯t climb. Find dungeons. Get shards. Play safe. Don¡¯t play fair.


    I took a deep breath. Alright, it was a little more information than that, but these were the key points and the rest was still sort of a mess. I will need many more shards, and probably a notepad, to make sense of it all and plan accordingly. For now, let¡¯s be optimistic and assume those velocicrocs are my only problem. Because they are quite enough as it is.


    Then I began to climb down the hose, my hands gripping tightly, my feet finding purchase on the rough canvas. The descent was slow and arduous, but I was making progress.


    I took one last look at the office window, the place where I had woken up to this shit. One of the creatures was still there, oblivious to my escape plan. As if waiting for my return.


    As I neared the ground, I could hear the creatures to the side of the building stirring, sensing movement perhaps. I quickened my pace, my heart pounding in my chest.


    I reached the ground, landing softly on my feet. And releasing the breath I had been holding. I look behind me, both up and down. No velocicrocs ready to pounce on me from a window. All clear.


    Then the creatures appeared from the side of the building and turned towards me, their eyes glowing with predatory hunger. But I was already prepared, taking a stance to sprint away from the building, towards the shattered remains of the campus.


    The creatures responded accordingly. Spreading without advancing towards me as if to block all possible paths and pounce on me before sharing a meal. They weren¡¯t as stupid as I wished. But it didn¡¯t really matter.


    I smirked.


    ¡°Not happening, you big dumb fucks.¡±


    I took one step back and slid down the sewers through the water drainage system.


    The landing had been rough, but thankfully, the ground was soft enough to cushion the impact. It was only concrete, very soft. Shit.


    The creatures, now closer, hissed and snapped. I didn''t give them a second glance. I backed away from the concrete drainage aperture. It was a narrow, rectangular opening, barely wide enough for me to squeeze through. Far too small for those oversized lizards. It was my best bet.


    I was inside. They were outside. And I will do my best to keep it that way.


    Sliding in was a somewhat tight fit, but I managed to squeeze quite easily through the opening, barely scraping my shoulders against the rough concrete. I could only hope that when the worlds got mashed up as one that the sewer network was somewhat preserved due to the fact that it was underground.


    If somehow the sewers were open to the surface somewhere, with openings big enough for those nasty gators to come after me, I would most likely be screwed. So, there was no time to lose.


    I dropped to my knees and peered into the darkness. The air inside was damp and stale, smelling of stagnant water, but thankfully nothing worse. And the fact that it smelled like that was good, it means the chance of an opening that allowed fresh air inside has gone down significantly.


    The drainage system was a network of narrow tunnels, unfortunately not high enough for me to stand upright, but it would do fine. It was dark, claustrophobic, and utterly silent, save for the occasional drip of water. But it was safe. Or at least it seemed so.


    I turned back to the entrance, just in time to see one of the creatures thrust its snout into the opening, its jaws snapping. Its reptilian eyes, cold and menacing, met mine. It couldn''t reach me, though. The aperture was too small.


    I raised the fire axe, gripping the handle tightly. It wasn''t a proper weapon, not really. But it was the only thing I had. And since it couldn¡¯t reach me and I could reach it, well, why not?


    With a grunt, I swung the axe with all the force I could muster, bringing it down on the creature''s snout. The impact sent a jolt of pain up my arms.


    The axe connected with a sickening thud. It wasn''t the clean cut I had hoped for. It was more like hitting a thick tree trunk. The axe head bit into the creature''s snout, creating a deep gash, but it didn''t sever anything. The creature recoiled with a snarl, a thin trickle of dark blood oozing from the wound.


    It was underwhelming, to say the least. It was more like a deep scratch than an actual cut. Barely any blood came out of it. No wonder everyone seems to have turned into crystal statues.


    And the way the axe got stuck in the creature''s jaw was also worrying, it was the only tool I had, a very necessary tool to remove the grates that would block his path in the sewers.


    No hitting the crocs. The axe is essential. Got it.


    Spitting on the ground as if to make a point of having my manly act of violent retribution as a statement that I won¡¯t be taken down easily, I turned away from the entrance, deeper into the darkness of the drainage system. The creature¡¯s frustrated hisses echoed behind me, but they couldn''t follow. I smirked. Childish? Yes. Did it feel good? Also yes.


    I took tentative steps forward, the concrete floor cold and damp beneath my feet. The darkness was broken by faint patches of light filtering in from the occasional grate above. Roughly a light shaft every couple dozen meters or so, lot¡¯s of grates and possible entrances. Hopefully, they are all small.


    But for most of the time visibility was very poor. So, I held the axe out in front of me, using it to feel my way forward, tapping it slowly and quietly on the walls and the floor.


    The air was thick. It was a damp, oppressive smell that clung to the back of my throat. I could hear the constant drip, drip, drip of water, each drop echoing in the confined space. I kept telling myself this was a good sign. No fresh air means no sudden chambers filled with crocs from outside.


    I moved slowly, cautiously, my senses on high alert. I was safe from the large creatures, but who knew what else lurked in these dark tunnels? Giant snakes? Tiny, agile chicken sized crocs? I shuddered at the thought. And had no spirit shards to ask the greedy system out about it.


    The drainage system should run beneath the entire campus. If I have enough time, I can access any building from here. Maybe even make it out of here eventually, reaching the border. But time was a precious commodity. And I had no idea how much of it I had. I need water. And food.


    I continued my slow, methodical progress, using the axe to clear away any debris that blocked my path in case I needed to run back. Trying to be as silent as possible. Not easy when you are hitting concrete to take out rusty grates out of the way.


    Occasionally, I would come across a larger chamber or a junction where multiple tunnels converged. I would pause, listening intently for any sounds, before choosing a direction and continuing on. No idea if one of the crocs could reach there, but they could certainly fit in.


    Squeezing through two narrow apertures in a roll, I stopped. Eyebrows raised.


    The tunnel opened into a much wider space, a chamber with an area of at least fifty square meters and a bunch of metal grates set high in the ceiling. Way too high for me to reach them.


    The near encounter with the creature¡¯s jaws was still fresh in my mind. The way it tried to catch me even while knowing that I was out of reach. The irrational drive of the hunt. I needed a moment to catch my breath anyway, no harm in properly assessing the situation.


    So, I sat down and took a couple deep breaths while looking around.


    I examined the grates carefully. They were made of thick metal bars, set into the concrete ceiling. A much heavier set than the small grates I have found so far. But that didn¡¯t mean it was safe. Those creatures were strong. They could probably bite onto the bars and pull the grates down, or up in this case, creating a new entrance. An entrance that was big enough for them.


    Also, the grates were roughly four meters above me, completely out of reach for now. No way to reinforce them or anything. A big croc decides to go berserk up there, and it might just bring the whole thing down. And then he, as his scaly friends, will come after me.


    And then I look around the chamber again. And then I looked up again. Then at the floor. Then up one more time. Then I got up and took a leisurely walk around the chamber while touching the walls.


    I didn¡¯t even realize I was smirking until I stopped in the center of the chamber while looking up as the afternoon sun hit my eyes, making me frown.


    This will do just fine. And it will be fun.

 Chapter 004

    The thought of one of those crocs finding a way into the sewers sent a shiver down my spine. Pursued by those things in the dark, slippery tunnels? I¡¯d be completely screwed.


    Their thick tails were a clear indicator that they were comfortable in water, or at least capable of navigating these damp, muddy corridors with ease. I, on the other hand, was neither a good swimmer nor particularly agile.


    I was also pretty sure that a fall of even five meters wouldn¡¯t do them much harm. For me, it would likely be fatal since it would slow me down enough for the damn things to pounce at me. And then it would be dinner time for them.


    Also, everyone has heard about the rumors of crocodiles in the sewers. I could only hope it would remain somewhat of an urban legend, even as the world was apparently ending. Or starting over.


    But now it was getting dark. The faint light filtering in from the grates was fading rapidly, plunging the tunnels into near-total darkness. I needed a safe place to rest, to think, to plan. To make sure I wasn¡¯t making a decision based on ¡®it would be so much fun¡¯, this isn¡¯t a game.


    I retraced my steps, back through the narrowest tunnel I found, and eventually reached a section where two narrow concrete entrances converged, creating a small, triangular room. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was the safest place around.


    I leaned against the cool concrete, catching my breath. I needed to think. And sleep, if possible. But what gnawed at me, now that the immediate threat had subsided, was the growing realization that I was thirsty and hungry. My stomach rumbled, a reminder that I was most likely running on fumes. Not that hungry considering it¡¯s been over two months since I had a proper meal.


    Staying in the sewers wasn¡¯t a long-term solution. There was no food or water down here, nothing to sustain me. Tomorrow, I would have to venture out, to find a way into one of the buildings.


    The cafeteria would be ideal. I remembered the large grates in the kitchen, designed for ventilation and drainage. They were wide enough for me to climb through, but too narrow for those creatures.


    But I had no idea what the cafeteria looked like now. I hadn¡¯t seen it from the roof. It might be a couple kilometers away or even long gone, buried in the freaking swamp. Not an option at all.


    And then there were the sewers themselves. For all I knew, the sewer network could end in the goddamned croc infested swamp, an underground lake, a collapsed cave, or a giant root system that clogged everything up. I hate unknown variables.


    But that was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, I needed to rest.


    I pulled the fire axe from my belt. The head was still covered in the creature¡¯s dark, almost black blood. I wiped it clean on the wall, grimacing at the sticky residue.


    Using the axe¡¯s sharp edge, I began to scratch a rough map on the damp concrete wall. I marked the entrance I had used, the three junctions I had explored, and the big chamber where I had stopped to check the grate. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was something. A tangible representation of my progress, a way to orient myself and to keep focus.


    When the map was finished, I found a relatively comfortable corner and sat down, leaning against the wall. The concrete was cold and hard, but I was too exhausted to care. It was dry, at least.


    I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the gnawing hunger and the persistent thirst. Sleep came slowly, but it did come. Every creak and drip of water in the tunnels sent a jolt of fear through me, keeping me on edge. This sucks.


    The first rays of light, filtered through the grates above, signaled the start of a new day. Or whatever passed for a day in this fractured world. I pushed myself up from the floor, my muscles stiff and sore.


    The night had been restless, a constant cycle of dozing and waking with a jolt, every drip of water and rustle in the tunnels amplifying my anxiety. I hadn¡¯t dared to truly sleep. And it got pretty cold.


    There was no breakfast waiting for me, of course. My stomach growled louder in protest. I needed food. And I needed water even more urgently despite feeling more hunger than thirst. Staying in the sewers was, unfortunately, not an option.


    I also needed shards. Preferably lots of them.


    My mind ran through the possible locations on campus that might offer sustenance.


    The dorms were the most obvious choice. Students always kept snacks and drinks stashed away, hidden from resident advisors. But it didn¡¯t seem to be in great shape. And the walls there were thin enough for one of those scaly things to go straight through it. I couldn¡¯t do the same. And this means once they knew I was there they would tear the building apart to get me. No, thanks. I will pass.


    The cafeteria would be ideal, a veritable treasure trove of food and supplies, but that one is out. It was out from the very start. It¡¯s just the thought of the proper meals available there that keep making my mind return to it. Just to suffer.


    Any other building would be a long shot, dependent on sheer luck.


    Except¡­ the library.


    There were vending machines in the library lobby. Not exactly gourmet fare, but they would provide calories and, more importantly, bottled water. It wasn¡¯t far from where I had entered the sewers, a short five-minute walk on a normal day. Now, it would likely take a couple hours.


    The biggest concern was the giant redwood tree that had merged with the library. Its roots, thick as a man¡¯s torso, spread out in all directions, likely disrupting the surrounding area. They could even be blocking the path to the library, or worse, they could have breached the sewer system itself.


    But it was my best choice. And I had the axe.


    As long as the roots, or the tree itself, hadn¡¯t created a new entrance for the crocs, I could probably manage navigating my way there. Unless, of course, the tree or its roots were as tough as the scales of the crocs. Then it would take me days to carve my way through, and I don¡¯t have that much time.


    I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. Time to go. Planning can only get me so far.


    I scanned the small chamber, searching for anything I could use for protection. My eyes landed on one of the thinner metal grates covering a ventilation shaft. It was small, barely a half meter square, but it was better than nothing.


    I used the axe to pry the grate loose from the wall. It came away with a screech of rusted metal, the sound echoing through the tunnels. I winced, listening intently for any response. But the silence remained unbroken.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    The grate was flimsy, thin metal that wouldn¡¯t do much against those creatures¡¯ powerful jaws. But it would provide a small sense of security, a psychological barrier.


    I held the makeshift shield in one hand and the axe in the other, feeling the weight of the metal in my grip. I was as ready as I could be. Which doesn¡¯t really mean much.


    I started moving through the tunnels again, following the path I had mapped out the previous night. The sounds of rustling that I heard during the night didn¡¯t do wonders for my sense of security. I moved cautiously, tapping the axe against the walls and the floor, listening to any sounds.


    The tunnels were narrow and twisting, forcing me to duck and sometimes even crawl through tight spaces and climb over piles of debris. At least no crocs would ever manage to get into the sewers through this place.


    The air was now starting to get thick with the smell of damp earth. I could feel the dampness seeping into my clothes, chilling me to the bone. Not good.


    After what felt like an eternity, I reached the junction that most likely led towards the library. I paused, listening intently. There was no sound, only the drip, drip, drip of water.


    I took a deep breath and turned into the tunnel. It was even narrower than the others, barely wide enough for me to squeeze through sideways. I had to hold the makeshift shield close to my body to avoid getting it stuck. The smell intensified.


    After a dozen meters of squeezing, the tunnel sloped upwards slightly, indicating that I was getting closer to the surface. A faint glimmer of light appeared ahead, growing brighter with each step.


    Another dozen meters later, I reached the end of the tunnel and found myself facing a solid wall of earth and roots. The roots of the giant redwood had indeed infiltrated the sewer system. Shit.


    But at least there was no opening for gators. Small blessings.


    The roots were thick, gnarled, and covered in rough bark. It was as if they were contorted trunks of regular trees coiling on top of each other.


    I had no other choice. It was probably like this all around the library. The tree was indeed massive.


    I looked at my trusty axe, at its magnificent twelve and a half centimeters of sharpened steel.


    Then I looked at the nearly two meter tall wall of thick roots that looked like tree trunks standing between me and the library. Between me and the food and water I needed.


    This is going to hurt so bad in the morning.


    I pressed my ear against the wall, listening for any sounds from the other side. I could hear nothing, only the faint rustling of leaves high above.


    I took a step back, examining the roots. They were tightly packed together, forming a solid barrier. It would be a difficult task to carve my way through, but it was the only way forward.


    I raised the axe, hefting it in my hand. The metal felt cold and heavy. I took a deep breath and began to swing, the dull thud of the axe against the wood echoing through the tunnels.


    The morning sun was already high when I finally broke through. My hands throbbed, covered in fresh blisters. I might have pushed myself a little too far.


    The axe, once a reassuring weight, now felt like a leaden burden. It had taken hours of relentless hacking, chipping away at the thick, gnarled roots of the redwood.


    Not removing them entirely, of course. That would have been impossible. But I¡¯d managed to create a hole just wide enough for me to squeeze through. And that¡¯s because the roots weren¡¯t nearly as resilient as the crocs¡¯ jaw.


    I slowly slid through the opening, landing with a barely audible thud on the other side. I was under the library. The air here was noticeably different, much drier than the sewers. A faint, almost artificial scent hung in the air, a reminder of the building¡¯s former purpose, mixed with the smell of earth and wood.


    I liked it.


    Above me, I could see the floorboards. The vending machines were up there, waiting. And full of goodies. Hopefully.


    I stood up, trying to brush the dirt and grime off my clothes. I failed.


    I looked around. The space beneath the library was a crawlspace, dark and cramped. Support beams crisscrossed the area, creating a maze of shadows. No way for crocs to get through it, not unless they chewed on the beams, which I wouldn¡¯t doubt they could.


    I listened intently, straining to hear any sounds from above. There was nothing, only the faint creaking of the tree trunk and the distant rustling of leaves from the redwood. No crocodilian hisses, no snapping jaws. Good.


    A wave of relief washed over me. For the moment, at least, I was fine. I will probably get my chance to make it to the surface without much problem.


    But I couldn¡¯t let my guard down. The world outside could have changed drastically. The vending machines could be empty, trashed, or even guarded by more of those creatures.


    There was a system in place, it might consider the food and water from the vending machines as some weird form of loot and protect it with its minions. I wish I could get more information. Lots of it.


    But I still had no spirit shards. The sewer system clearly didn¡¯t qualify as a dungeon. No sign of any glowing crystal shards anywhere. They would be really easy to spot down there.


    And, even if I couldn¡¯t dream of fighting the crocs, I could still defeat them. If I got them in the right place, at the right time, that is. That¡¯s how you take down prey without needing to face them head-on. Big brain for the win.


    But that¡¯s for later. I knew I was getting weaker by the minute, even if I didn¡¯t feel as such. I wouldn¡¯t have the strength to hunt crocs if I didn¡¯t replenish my energy. And I wanted to hunt crocs. I really wanted to hunt them. But now wasn¡¯t the time.


    Trying my best to ignore the endorphin drenched portion of my reptilian brain thinking of dealing with reptiles, I figured out it was time to try my luck and climb up. I could always jump back down into the sewers if those creatures were waiting for me up there. So, I made sure that I picked a path that will let me traverse it with little difficulty while being impossible for anything bigger than me.


    I scanned the crawlspace, which already fit my plan of a good path. Looking for a way up. I found a sturdy support beam near the western wall, with several smaller wooden planks nailed to it, forming a makeshift ladder. It looked old and rickety, but it was my only option.


    I approached the ladder cautiously, testing each plank before weight on it. Slowly crawling up to the trap door that should open through the floorboards. It creaked and groaned under my weight, but it held as I climbed slowly, carefully, my muscles aching with every step.


    The air became warmer and drier as I got to lift my head near the level of the floor above. Or at least I convinced myself it did. Finally, I reached the top of the ladder and peered through a small gap made by lifting the trap door a little bit. I could see the familiar linoleum tiles replacing the wooden floorboards at the library lobby. The vending machines should be just a few meters away.


    I listened intently for a couple of minutes. There was no sound. So far, so good.


    I took a deep breath and pushed the trap door open. Thankfully, it was big enough for me, but not big enough for crocs thanks to the stairs beneath it. Although, I think if one of those things throws itself without a care it could break in and create a path for more of its siblings to come after me.


    No point in dwelling on this. I couldn¡¯t do anything about the sturdiness of the floorboards against a two to three hundred kilograms angry lizard. So, I squeezed through the opening, pulling myself up onto the library floor. I stood up, brushing the dust and cobwebs off my clothes.


    The library was eerily quiet. The rows of bookshelves, once filled with students, were now empty. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light that streamed in through the large windows and the newly created ventilation system thanks to the huge tree that spawned within the library.


    There were no crystal statues here. Which I found a bit odd since there¡¯s always people around, no matter the time of the day. And some should have been here when the shit hit the fan.


    But I couldn¡¯t be bothered as of now. I turned towards the vending machines. They were still there, thankfully, and they looked untouched, as if time had simply stopped when the world had changed.


    No twisted metal cases or broken glass shards all around, which was the worst scenario for me. I approached the nearest machine, my heart pounding with anticipation. I peered through the glass, scanning the rows of snacks and drinks. There were chips, candy bars, sodas, and bottles of water. A veritable feast.


    I tried to make fun of the situation, but I couldn¡¯t. I wasn¡¯t sarcastic either. Although I did try.


    Apparently, your danger scale wasn¡¯t the only thing that gets automatically updated at the end of the world. I was salivating while looking at cheap chips and shady sodas after all.

 Chapter 005

    So many over salted, oily, sugar riddled, ill-advised food choices waiting for me. I will have them all.


    But there was one problem.


    The machines required coins.


    I patted my pockets, searching for any loose change. But I obviously found nothing. I hadn¡¯t carried any cash on me that day. Or any other day for that matter. I paid for my lunch with my university ID card, as always. And everything else was done by wireless transfer.


    A wave of disappointment washed over me. I had come so far, only to be stopped by something as trivial as a lack of coins.


    Then I remembered something and frowned.


    I reached for my belt and pulled out the fire axe. The metal was still cold and heavy in my hand.


    I looked at the vending machine, then back at the axe. It wasn¡¯t exactly the ideal tool for the job, but it was the only one I had.


    I took a deep breath and raised the axe. Hopefully I could afford to make a little noise.


    The axe was raised, poised to strike the vending machine¡¯s glass front. But something stopped me. A flicker of logic. Hitting the machine would be loud. Very loud. And while I hadn¡¯t seen any of those creatures inside the library, I couldn¡¯t be sure they weren¡¯t nearby. Or that something else wasn¡¯t lurking in the shadows.


    Besides, I wasn¡¯t that desperate. Not yet.


    I lowered the axe, the metal clanging softly against the floor. There had to be a better way.


    My eyes scanned the machine, searching for a weakness. The door, of course. It was secured by a simple hinge and a latch. If I could just¡­


    I placed my hands on the machine¡¯s cold metal surface, testing its weight. It was heavy, but not impossibly so. And it did have wheels. I could probably move it, if I took my time.


    A new plan began to form in my mind. Instead of smashing the machine open, I would try to move it closer to the crawlspace entrance. That way, if things went south, I could quickly retreat back.


    I wrapped my hands around the machine¡¯s base, bracing my legs against the floor. I pushed, slowly and steadily, putting all my weight into it. The machine groaned and scraped against the floor, the wheels appeared to be just decoration as far as rolling was concerned, but it moved.


    The process was slow and arduous. The machine was heavier than I had anticipated, and the linoleum floor offered little traction. I had to stop every few seconds to catch my breath, my muscles burning with exertion.


    I glanced around nervously, listening for any sounds. The library remained eerily silent. But I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that I was being watched. Paranoia is good. It keeps you alive.


    After what felt like hours, but was probably just five minutes, I managed to drag the vending machine to the edge of the crawlspace entrance. It was a tight fit, but it was close enough. Now, if I needed to escape, all I had to do was jump down.


    That was better. Much better.


    I turned my attention to the machine¡¯s door. I examined the hinges, looking for a way to pry them open. They were simple metal hinges, secured by small screws. With enough force, I could probably break them.


    I placed the axe head against the hinge, using it as a lever. I applied pressure slowly, carefully, trying to avoid making too much noise. The metal groaned and creaked, but it didn¡¯t budge.


    I tried a different angle, applying more force. The hinge finally gave way with a soft snap. I repeated the process with the other hinge, and the door swung open.


    Success.


    A wave of relief washed over me, so intensely that I almost stumbled. The combination of thirst and hunger was making me lightheaded. I had to be careful. I couldn¡¯t afford to make stupid mistakes.


    I peered inside the vending machine. Rows of snacks and drinks were neatly arranged... Chips, candy bars, sodas, bottled water¡­ all I needed.


    I briefly wondered if something like merging worlds would have any effect on food. But I didn¡¯t bother looking at the expiration dates. Most of them had no clear expiration date at all, despite what their packages said. These items didn¡¯t even need refrigeration. Although an ice-cold soda would be very welcome, it just wasn¡¯t meant to be. I was probably over two months too late.


    The gods only knew when the electricity had gone out. But these items¡­ These items were probably still good. And would remain as such for a very long time, most likely.


    I reached inside the machine and grabbed a bottle of water. I uncapped it and took a long, slow drink, savoring the cool liquid as it slid down my parched throat. It most definitely wasn¡¯t the best thing I had ever tasted. But it was very nice. I would prefer soda, but I need water right now.


    I then grabbed a bag of chips and tore it open, devouring the contents in a matter of seconds. The salt and grease were a welcome sensation after over a whole day of nothing. Then a candy for dessert.


    I needed to be smart about this. I couldn¡¯t afford to gorge myself. I needed to ration these supplies, to make them last as long as possible.


    I took off my shirt, wincing as the rough fabric scraped against my blistered hands. I tied the sleeves together, creating a makeshift bag. Then, I began to fill it with the non-perishable items from the vending machine.


    I made several trips back and forth between the vending machine and the wooden entrance to the sewers, carefully transporting my loot to the other side of the roots. It was a slow and tiring process, but I was determined to do it right.


    After what felt like another eternity, I had moved most of the valuable loot to the relative safety of the sewer network. I had water and food for days, maybe even weeks if I rationed carefully.


    Now, I could afford to make more elaborate plans. Now, I had the resources I needed to survive. And maybe, just maybe, to find a way to get out of this mess safely. And to come back for Mark, since he asked so nicely. I am sure I will have nightmares about that at some point.


    My sewer penthouse, as I¡¯d started to think of it, wasn¡¯t much. A cold triangular space where two narrow concrete tunnels converged. But it was still the safest. And more importantly, it was home to a veritable treasure trove.


    My loot.


    The pile of snacks and drinks I¡¯d salvaged from the vending machine looked almost comical against the backdrop of the grimy sewer walls. Granola bars, chocolate bars, bags of chips in various flavors, mostly barbecue. Food I wouldn¡¯t have given a second glance to in my previous life was now a precious resource.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I sorted through the haul, taking stock. I had several bottles of water, thankfully. Hydration was my primary concern. I also had a decent supply of sugary sodas, which, while not ideal, would provide a quick burst of energy. So tasty. And the chips¡­ Well, they were mostly air and artificial flavoring, but they were calories nonetheless. I will think of them as meat and vegetables in their combined processed form. It would do. It will have to.


    What I really craved, though, was a steaming bowl of instant noodles. A hot, savory meal that ruled over non perishable food, it would have been a godsend. But beggars couldn¡¯t be choosers.


    I leaned back against the cool concrete, my stomach finally starting to quiet down. Now that I had secured food and water, it was time for planning.


    My immediate goal was Mark. I had to get him out of that crystal coffin. The System had said it took five shards to release someone. But I also know for a fact that those creatures already found their way there. I was there when they did. So was Mark, in a sense.


    Then there¡¯s the problem of Mark being wounded. I know these crystal shells are supposed to heal you up and all that, but I don¡¯t know how fast that is. How long does Mark need? A day? A week? A month? It matters. A lot.


    Then, if I managed to reach Mark, with five shards to set him free, and he is fine to run down here with me and we both made it down here safely, we would still need another twenty shards to get us out of this place. If we can get to the border from here.


    So, as it turns out, Mark will have to wait. I will have to go the other way around. Find out how to get to the border from here. In the meantime, I keep on exploring, mapping and on the lookout for some shards or dungeon entrances. They should be easy to spot, right? Well, that¡¯s about it.


    But I wouldn¡¯t complain about getting fifty more shards along the way. That could allow me to access the system¡¯s enhancement function, to get one of those ¡°gifts¡± it had mentioned. But I will probably just ask a lot of questions about it. Way before deciding about this ¡°gift¡±, if I can.


    I wouldn¡¯t mind being able to blast those crocs with some kind of energy beam, or maybe become incredibly strong, able to crush them with my bare hands. I wouldn¡¯t mind at all.


    But I doubted I could become that powerful with just fifty shards. If I am right about the system being truly as transactional and uncaring as it seemed, then the first ¡°gift¡± would be just a taste. A small sample, designed to get you hooked.


    Then, it would raise the price tenfold, maybe even a hundredfold, and tell you something like Now, this, this is the real stuff. And you would pay. Because you wanted to survive. Because you wanted to become stronger.


    At least, I knew I would. I will.


    I will have to find an outrageous set of synergetic superpowers. And no, this isn¡¯t some hidden desire for power or anything like that. It¡¯s much, much simpler.


    I couldn¡¯t possibly afford to come across someone who had already acquired three or four ¡°gifts¡± and have them take everything I got. Survivors can¡¯t be trusted. They were still people, after all. And if my experience had taught me anything, it was that people were inherently unpredictable, driven by self-interest and prone to irrational behavior.


    I doubted that this had changed with the merging of worlds. It had most likely only gotten worse.


    I closed my eyes, visualizing the sewers, the route I would take, the potential dangers. I needed a strategy, a plan to find more spirit shards to rescue Mark and eventually escape this place.


    The small maintenance tunnel I saw the day before barely qualified as a proper route, I didn¡¯t even explore it, but it will have to do for now. I reached a dead end in the big chamber and another here, in the library. Only one path left on this side.


    I opened my eyes, my gaze falling on the makeshift map I had scratched on the wall. It was a crude representation of the tunnels, but it was enough to orient myself.


    I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. I had no spirit shards, no special abilities, no allies. But I had my wits. And that, I hoped, would be enough. That and a bunch of dubious non-perishable food.


    I stood up, stretching my stiff muscles. It was time to move.


    My plan was simple, in theory. Those oversized lizards couldn¡¯t climb. So, I would make them fall into a hole. A big enough hole.


    And then¡­ then I¡¯d let nature take its course. Either they¡¯d kill each other in their panicked scramble to escape, or they¡¯d simply¡­ expire. Either way, it could eventually solve my croc problem. One croc at a time if I must. And they would certainly drop some shards.


    But I couldn¡¯t get ahead of myself. Scouting the sewers came first. What if I spent days trapping crocs just to turn around a tunnel one day and stumbled on thirty shards on the ground plus the border a few steps away? Wouldn¡¯t I feel like an idiot because I wasted days hunting crocs when I could get Mark out earlier and left already? No, not really. I do want to hunt some crocs.


    I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Three days. I will scout for three days then I will hunt for three days, then I will take one day off. Fair enough? Yes. I couldn¡¯t agree more.


    It was time to scout the sewers.


    The thought wasn¡¯t exactly appealing. But staying put wasn¡¯t an option. I needed to move, to explore, to find a solution. And answers.


    Besides, scouting had other benefits. I might discover other paths to the surface, alternative exits from these underground tunnels. I could also start mapping the locations of the crystalized people, doing a rough head count from place to place, that sort of thing.


    And who knew? I might even stumble upon a real dungeon, a place teeming with monsters and, more importantly, spirit shards. Preferably filled with things like slimes, which are usually cannon fodder and that I should be able to take out with one or two proper kicks.


    The scouting mission was on. And yes, I was trying to get myself hyped about it.


    I took a final look at my makeshift map, memorizing the route I had taken the previous day. Then, I set off, moving deeper into the sewer network.


    The tunnels were once again oppressive, dim, filled with thick air with the smell of stagnant water, and the silence was broken only by the drip, drip, drip of condensation. I didn¡¯t miss it at all.


    I moved slowly, cautiously, tapping the axe against the walls and the floor.


    I checked every junction, every side tunnel, searching for the completion of my map. Most of them led to more tunnels, extending deeper into the sewer system. Some were blocked by debris, piles of rubble and discarded materials that had been swept into the sewers during the merging. I mark them down and turn back, if nothing of interest is found I would return. Hopefully not.


    Occasionally, I would come across a larger chamber, like the one I found near my current base. But none of them were as interesting as the first one, which had the right combination of features: a large open space with small, inaccessible apertures and a big ass grate on top.


    As I explored, I started to notice patterns. Some sections of the sewers were newer, with smooth concrete walls and well-maintained pipes. Others were older, with crumbling brickwork and rusted metal grates. A testament of amends or repairs made over the course of decades.


    I also started to find more grates leading to the surface. Some were small and covered in debris, while others were larger and more accessible. I made a mental note of their locations, adding them to my mental map.


    I didn¡¯t see or hear any more of the crocs, which was a relief. But I did find other signs of life. Small insects scuttled across the walls, and I heard the faint rustling in the distance.


    At one point, I came across a small pile of bones, bleached white and scattered across the floor. They were too small to be human, probably rats or other small animals. But the sight still sent a shiver down my spine. There might be other things down here.


    As I continued my exploration, I noticed something else. Tiny shards embedded into a concrete wall. They were much smaller than the shards I had received from Mark, barely larger than grains of rice. But they shimmered with the same faint blue light.


    I tried to pry one of them out with the axe, but they were firmly embedded in the concrete. And to make it even more vexing, this concrete wall seems to be exceedingly sturdy compared to all others I came across. Quite suspicious, isn¡¯t it? Either way, I would need a different tool.


    I turned back to update my map and slept it off. Found a bunch of dead ends, two possibly new routes to the other side of the sewers and also a glaring point of interest.


    The discovery was encouraging, despite my bad mood. It confirmed what the System had said: spirit shards could be found. No real danger involved. I just needed to find a way to extract them. Although I am not quite sure that¡¯s possible when you take the unbreakable concrete wall into consideration.


    The shards protect the wall, while the wall protects the shards. How poetic and well thought, system, I praise you. Now can you please give me a fucking slack?

 Chapter 006

    After three days of exploration I finally mapped what I believed to be most of the sewers. Now it was time for my other job. Croc hunting.


    I entered the big chamber, carefully examining the walls and the floor. There were no other exits for the crocs, just the three small openings that lead to smaller chambers that, in turn, lead back to the tunnels. It was a dead end, a natural pit trap.


    It wasn¡¯t perfect. The chamber was relatively small when the size of my prey was taken into consideration, only about ten meters in diameter. But it was the best I had found so far. And it was big enough for five or six crocs.


    Despite not being as secured as my triangular sewer penthouse, I decided to switch to another small chamber. It was pretty much the same, except for the fact that on that side of the sewers there were no sounds of things walking around. Things that could take my food when I¡¯m out.


    This means I will have to make it more secure. Not a big problem when compared to what I will get in return. This new base of operations is closer to the tiny shards, there are still no signs of other creatures, no footprints or trails or poop, and I could work on my trap or explore more tunnels without having to lose half an hour walking for every meal.


    Regarding my hunt, well, I would need to find a way to lure those creatures here, but that was a problem for another day. For now, I had found a safe place to rest and plan further.


    Now, it was time to go back to my previous home and enjoy dinner. I am thinking of barbecue and yakisoba, in the form of chips, obviously. Tomorrow, I will start preparing to catch some crocs.


    The morning of the fifth day dawned much like the previous ones: dim light filtering through grates, damp air heavy with the smell of stagnant water, and the gnawing emptiness in my stomach. But today was different. Today was prep day,  getting ready to hunt.


    I stretched my stiff muscles, wincing at the aches and pains. Believe or not I still wasn¡¯t back into top shape after the whole axing roots and vending machine pushing four days ago. The makeshift map I¡¯d scratched on the wall was still there, a crude but useful reminder of the sewer layout. I traced the route to the circular chamber with my finger, then back to the junction where I¡¯d spent the last two nights. But now I have a notepad. Fetched one for the library. So, the map was in my pocket.


    My plan for today was simple: fortify that smaller chamber and move my supplies. It would be a tedious, time-consuming process, but it was necessary.


    First, the grates. I needed to secure the entrances to my new ¡°home.¡± I retraced my steps back through the tunnels, towards the area where I had found the thin metal grates. They weren¡¯t much, but they were better than nothing.


    The process of prying the grates loose was even more difficult this time. My hands were still sore from hacking at the roots, and the axe felt heavier than ever. But I persevered, working slowly and methodically, trying to minimize the noise.


    After what felt like an eternity, I collected half a dozen grates. They were awkward to carry, but I wedged them under my arm and against my side, using the axe as a support.


    I made my way back to the smaller chamber, carefully navigating the narrow tunnels. The grates scraped against the concrete walls, creating a grating sound that echoed through the sewers. I stopped frequently, listening intently for any response. But the tunnels remained silent.


    I reached the smaller chamber and began to work on securing the entrances. The openings were narrow and uneven, making it difficult to fit the grates properly. I used the axe to chip away at the concrete, widening the openings slightly and creating a more secure fit.


    It took several hours of painstaking work, but I finally secured both entrances. The grates weren¡¯t perfectly flush with the walls, but they were firmly in place. They wouldn¡¯t stop those large creatures, but they would deter smaller pests. Not that I had seen any, but I did hear something.


    With my new ¡°home¡± secured, it was time to move my supplies. The thought of making multiple trips back and forth between the two locations filled me with dread. Each round trip would take at least half an hour, maybe even a full hour, considering my exhaustion.


    I estimated that I would need at least five trips to move all my food and water. That meant a full morning, or perhaps even an entire afternoon, spent hauling supplies through these dark tunnels.


    I sighed. There was no way around it. It had to be done.


    I started with the heaviest items: the water bottles. I gathered as many as I could carry in my makeshift shirt-bag and started back towards the smaller chamber.


    The journey was slow and tiring. The bag was heavy, and the narrow tunnels made it difficult to maneuver. I had to stop frequently to rest, my muscles aching with every step.


    After what felt like an eternity, I finally reached the smaller chamber and deposited the water bottles. I took a short break, catching my breath, before heading back for another load.


    The process repeated itself several times. Each trip was more exhausting than the last. The dampness seeped into my clothes, chilling me to the bone. My hands were raw and blistered, and my muscles screamed in protest.


    But I persevered, driven by the knowledge that I needed these supplies to survive. I needed to be prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead.


    By late afternoon, I had finally moved all my loot to the smaller chamber. I collapsed against the wall, exhausted, my body aching all over.


    I had barely enough energy to think about anything else. I would have to postpone the search for the spirit shard deposits and dungeons for tomorrow. For now, I just needed to rest.


    But this was fine. I wasn¡¯t in danger as far as I knew. I was sleeping better. I sure have enough water and food. And I even dared to think I would catch and kill one of those crocs, the thing exploding in a rain of shards all for myself.


    How absurd. Perhaps it¡¯s time to go to sleep properly since I am already dreaming.


    The next day, my sixth day in this place, my muscles ache like they did on day three. But the gnawing hunger had subsided significantly. My body was at least adapting to my new diet. The granola bars and chips weren¡¯t exactly balanced, but they were fuel.


    What I wanted to do on my sixth day: hunt crocs.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    What I end up doing on day six: scouting the area where I¡¯d found those tiny shards, in the hopes of finding a dungeon somewhere around there. The system did say they could be found in such places, and I really needed more spirit shards. And I was too tired to risk going to the surface.


    So, I left my fortified chamber, carefully repositioning the grates behind me. Can¡¯t have giant bugs or something like that dropping by to an unauthorized meal. I moved with more confidence now, my footsteps echoing softly in the silence.


    I retraced my steps to the area where I¡¯d discovered the tiny shards. The light filtering in from the grates above was dim, but I could still see them shimmering faintly. I ran my fingers over the rough concrete, trying to dislodge one of the fragments. They were stubbornly embedded, almost fused with the wall. No hope there.


    I sighed, frustrated. I kind of needed those shards, but I couldn¡¯t waste any more time on this. I had a dungeon to find. I didn¡¯t even know if shards of that size were worth anything.


    I continued my exploration, following some tunnels that went to yet another side, the third section so far, of the sewer network. The tunnels became narrower, more twisting, and the air grew even thicker and more stagnant. And sewers aren¡¯t built to be twisted. Suspicious.


    Then, I saw it.


    A faint glow emanated from a side tunnel, a soft, ethereal light that pulsed gently. I approached cautiously, my heart pounding in my chest.


    The tunnel opened into a larger chamber, different from any I had seen before. The walls were smoother, almost carved, and the air was noticeably warmer. The ethereal glow came from strange, glowing fungi that grew on the walls and ceiling, illuminating the chamber with an otherworldly light.


    And then I saw the message.


    It shimmered in the air, a translucent blue text that hung before me like a holographic projection.


    [Dungeon Detected: The Rat Warrens. Level: 1. Recommended Party Size: 1-3. A dungeon filled with giant rats.]


    My heart sank. A dungeon. Exactly what I was looking for. Until I read the last line.


    Giant Rats.


    I had no illusions about my ability to take on such creatures, not in my current state. Not with just a dull axe and no combat experience. And lots of antiseptic.


    Sure, facing one giant rat was no problem. But rats weren¡¯t exactly known for living alone in nests. A dungeon was sort of a nest for them, right? I¡¯m not sure. But I could surely imagine it.


    I could picture them now: hordes of oversized rodents, with sharp teeth and beady eyes, swarming over me, tearing me apart. The image sent a shiver down my spine.


    Direct combat was out of the question. But¡­ perhaps there was another way.


    I looked around the chamber, assessing the environment. There were several narrow tunnels leading away from the main chamber, each one barely wide enough for me to squeeze through.


    If I could find enough grates, I could block off the larger entrances, creating a choke point. Then, I could use the axe to create a makeshift trap, perhaps a falling rock or a sharpened stake.


    It would be a long shot, but it wasn¡¯t impossible. And it might be a worthy investment since I am not afraid of running out of food anytime soon.


    I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. I couldn¡¯t face those giant rats in a straight fight, but I could outsmart them. I could use the environment to my advantage.


    I took note of the dungeon¡¯s location, marking it on my new map. I would need to come back here later, when I was better prepared.


    Before leaving, I noticed shards scattered near the entrance to the dungeon. Not tiny ones, proper spirit shards. They were lying loose on the ground, not embedded in the concrete like the ones I had found earlier.


    I carefully picked them up, one by one, placing them in my pocket. They were small, almost insignificant, but they were spirit shards. My first spirit shards since I¡¯d spent them all on information.


    I counted them. Five.


    Five spirit shards. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was a start. It was enough to free Mark from his crystal coffin, when I had enough to take both of us out. Twenty more shards to go. Nice.


    A small spark of hope flickered in my chest. Maybe, just maybe, I could get out of this mess after all.


    I turned away from the dungeon entrance and headed back towards my fortified chamber, my heart a little lighter, my steps a little quicker. This seemingly boring day turned out great.


    I would leave the dungeon alone for now. Maybe it would give me another handful of shards in a few days. And I would have to kill myself some rats eventually. I secured my shards in a makeshift bag tied to my belt and held inside my pocket. Can¡¯t drop this. Ever.


    The seventh day was finally trap day. Big trap day. The plan was simple, brutal, and hopefully effective: use the circular chamber as a croc-sized pit trap. The grate above was the pit. If I could loosen it enough, I could lure those creatures over it and watch them plummet into the darkness below. Then, I¡¯d do it again. And again. As many times as possible.


    Thankfully, those creatures weren¡¯t sprinters. They were ambush predators, relying on patience and pack tactics. I could outrun them, as long as I had access to the sewers. That meant finding and marking as many surface entrances as possible. Exit options were crucial.


    The problem, initially, was bait. I wasn¡¯t about to put myself in a position to be chased by those things. I needed something to draw them to the grate.


    And then it hit me. I was the bait. I just didn¡¯t have to put myself at risk.


    I secured three different small entrances to the sewers around the big grates. Enough for me to slide down if anything goes wrong. No crocs allowed.


    I slipped up, pulled out the axe and went towards the big grates. I picked the biggest one, the middle one, and used the axe to dent and bent the metal that was supposed to hold it in place. What was once a flat perpendicular shaft became rounded and not much larger than a bump. I smiled.


    The grate was still holding its own weight, but it won¡¯t hold much more than that. I did a few tests. It was working like intended.


    Time to pull aggro.


    I took a deep breath to contain my excitement and carefully made a small cut on the palm of my hand. It stung, but it was manageable. I approached the big grate and squeezed my hand, letting a few drops of blood accumulate before throwing it onto the middle of the grate. Then, I smeared the rest of the blood across the grate¡¯s surface, ensuring the scent would carry.


    Then I slid down, retreating back through the tunnels, smiling.


    I positioned myself in an adjacent chamber, sort of beneath the grate but separated by a solid concrete wall. There was a small opening in the wall, just large enough for me to see and hear what was happening in the chamber and to peek at the grate. It was the perfect vantage point.


    Now, all I had to do was wait. And make some noise.


    I took a deep breath and started to talk, my voice echoing through the tunnels. I didn¡¯t say anything specific, just random words, phrases, anything to attract attention. I varied the volume, sometimes whispering, sometimes shouting, creating a cacophony of sound that would carry up through the grate.


    ¡°Testing¡­ one, two¡­ can you hear me?¡­ is anybody out there?¡­ just¡­ thinking out loud¡­ about¡­ logistics¡­ and¡­ supply chains¡­ very important stuff¡­ you wouldn¡¯t understand¡­¡±


    I continued my rambling monologue, my voice growing louder and more insistent. It felt strange, talking to myself in the darkness, but I had to attract their attention.


    It didn¡¯t take long.


    First, I heard the familiar hissing and growling, growing louder as the creatures approached. Then, the sound of heavy footsteps on the concrete above. And then¡­


    The grate above me rattled violently. Metal screeched against metal. There was a loud snap, followed by a deafening thud. I couldn¡¯t resist and peeked.


    A wide smile spread across my face. It worked like a charm.


    Got myself a croc.


    Why would I hunt giant rats when I can hunt dinosaurs?

 Chapter 007

    The grate was now hanging precariously at an angle, one side dangling down into the chamber. Below, thrashing and snarling, was one of the crocs. It had fallen into my trap.


    It was a chaotic scene. The creature was struggling to get its footing on the uneven floor of the chamber, its claws scraping against the concrete walls. It hissed and snapped, its eyes wild.


    I waited, watching as the creature struggled in vain. It was too large to climb out through the small openings in the walls, and it couldn¡¯t get to the swaying grate.


    After a few minutes of frantic thrashing, the creature began to calm down. Its movements became slower, its hisses weaker. It was trapped. And it knew.


    Now was the time to act.


    I carefully made my way up to the grate above. The fallen creature was still struggling, but much less than at the start. It was walking from side to side, as if hoping for things to change as it turned.


    I approached the grate cautiously, keeping my distance from the opening. I used the axe to pry the grate back into place, securing it as best I could. It wasn''t a perfect seal, but it was enough to catch another if I could lure one more.


    The creature below continued to snarl, but its movements were clearly slower. It realized there was no point to its struggle, perhaps.


    I stepped away from the now reset grate, back to the adjacent chamber.


    And, just like that, I had succeeded. My plan had worked.


    I had trapped one of those creatures.


    Now, I just needed to do it again. And again.


    I went back to my original position, beneath the other ventilation shaft, and repeated the process.


    It didn¡¯t take long for another creature to arrive. The same screeching of metal, the same deafening thud. Another one down.


    This time, I was quicker. I climbed up and secured the grate before the creature could even recover from the fall. It was still somewhat agitated when I got back.


    I repeated the process a third time, and then a fourth. Each time, the same result. The creatures were either drawn to the scent of blood or the noise I made, maybe both, and ended up falling into my trap like clockwork.


    By the end of the day, I had trapped four of those creatures in the circular chamber. They were still alive, but they were trapped, yet disturbingly calm. They would eventually die of starvation or dehydration, or perhaps even kill each other in their confined space.


    Either way, they were no longer a threat to me. Or anyone else. Except if some fool falls into the pit.


    I returned to my fortified chamber, exhausted but satisfied. My plan had worked. I had found a way to deal with those creatures, without having to face them in direct combat.


    I had also found a way to conserve my energy. I hadn¡¯t had to run, to fight, to risk my own life. I had simply used my wits, my knowledge of their behavior, and the environment to my advantage.


    It had been a good day. A very good day.


    I reached into my pocket and touched the five spirit shards I had found near the dungeon entrance. They felt warm and reassuring. I still needed more, many more. But I had made progress. I had survived. And I had learned something valuable: even without special abilities or powerful weapons, I could find a way to overcome those things. I just needed to be smart. And patient.


    The seventh day drew to a close with the low, guttural hisses and snarls of the trapped creatures echoing faintly through the sewer tunnels. It was an unsettling soundtrack to my evening meal. But it was also a sound of success.


    I sat in my fortified chamber, carefully rationing my remaining supplies. A few granola bars, a handful of chips, and a precious bottle of water. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough to stave off hunger.


    The trapped creatures were a good start, but they weren¡¯t a solution. I needed more spirit shards, and quickly. Waiting for those creatures to starve to death wasn¡¯t a viable long-term strategy. They were likely reptiles, and if they possessed even a fraction of the hardiness of their crocodilian cousins, they could survive for weeks, maybe even months, without food. They could slow down their metabolism to a crawl, conserving energy and effectively stalling my plans.


    Taking out three or four of them a day simply wouldn¡¯t cut it. There were probably dozens, if not hundreds, of those creatures roaming the surface. At this rate, I¡¯d be staying in the sewers for weeks waiting for the crocs to die.


    I needed to find a more reliable source of spirit shards. The Rat Warrens, as the system had called it, were a potential goldmine, but I wasn¡¯t ready to face those giant rats. Not yet. No trap ready.


    Perhaps it was time to scout even further, to explore the deeper reaches of the sewer network. Maybe I could find another dungeon, a less¡­ populated one. Something told me that finding an easier dungeon was wishful thinking. The Rat Warrens were labeled as Level 1. It probably didn¡¯t get much easier than that.


    Although I had no idea what ¡°level 1¡± actually means. There were no such things as a status page with stats and attributes and whatnot. I for sure didn¡¯t have a level. When I asked the system about it before he just said it could trade ¡°gifts¡±, not anything related to some game-like advancements.


    I needed to finish mapping the sewer system, to identify all the surface entrances and potential escape routes. And I needed to find a way to extract those tiny shards from the concrete walls. They were a meager source of spirit stuff, but every shard counted. Or at least it should.


    I finished my meager meal, carefully sealing the remaining food and water in my makeshift shirt-bag. I leaned back against the cool concrete wall, my mind racing with possibilities.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I had a good day, but this might as well be the last one for a while unless I found some more spirit shards lying around. I still needed twenty more.


    What I needed was a sustainable source, and those trapped creatures weren¡¯t it. Not if they were going to take weeks to starve to death before providing me with crystals.


    I will have to go for the freaking giant rats, won¡¯t I? Shit.


    I spent the next couple hours meticulously cleaning the axe. I used the rough concrete wall to sharpen the blade as best I could, removing the remaining traces of the creature''s blood. The process was slow and tedious, but it was a necessary task. The axe was my only weapon, my only tool. I needed to keep it in good condition.


    I finished sharpening the axe and leaned back against the wall, exhausted. The hissing and snarling of the trapped creatures continued, but didn¡¯t bother much anymore. They got rather quiet.


    I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the noise. I was getting a little fed up with it. I still slept rather well all things considered.


    Now, since my axe is all good, it¡¯s back to some exploring. Just to make sure I wasn¡¯t missing anything before trying the rat dungeon.


    The tunnels were still the same, but I was changing. I was becoming much more familiar with the layout and the ambience. I moved faster, my footsteps echoing softly in the silence. Axe at my right hand and my makeshift shield, now slightly reinforced, at my left.


    As I approached the area where I had found the fragments, I noticed something different. The light filtering in from the grates above was brighter than usual. It was still dim, but it was enough to illuminate the walls more clearly.


    And then I saw them.


    More shards, scattered across the walls and the floor. But these were different. They were larger, some of them almost the size of my thumbnail. And they weren¡¯t embedded in the concrete. They were lying loose, as if they had been recently dislodged.


    I approached cautiously, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it. This was what I had been looking for. I knelt down and began to collect them, carefully placing them in my pocket. They felt cold and smooth to the touch, and they shimmered with the same faint blue light as the shards.


    As I gathered them, I noticed something else. A small, dark opening in the wall, hidden behind a pile of debris. It was barely large enough for me to squeeze through, but it was there.


    I approached the opening cautiously, tapping the axe against the debris. The pile shifted slightly, revealing the opening more clearly.


    It was a narrow tunnel, leading deeper into the sewer system. The air coming from it was noticeably colder and damper. And there was something else¡­ a faint, metallic scent, similar to the one I had smelled in my office.


    I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. This could be it. This could be the entrance to another dungeon. Or perhaps something else entirely.


    The dark, damp tunnel beckoned, promising¡­ what? Darkness? Dampness? Danger? The metallic scent, while reminiscent of spirit shards, was also unsettling. It hinted at something unnatural, something I wasn¡¯t prepared to face without proper precautions.


    Do I really want to go deeper into the dark, damp tunnels in a place that spawns spirit shards?


    No. Fuck that. Not without a proper light source. To let me properly study the place. And plan.


    I turned back, the shards jingling softly in my pocket. Another five spirit shards. Enough for me to get out of here, if I make it to the border of the instance. But not enough to do so with Mark. And certainly not enough for any of those enticing ¡°gifts¡± the System mentioned.


    Before leaving the area, I secured one of the grates over the entrance to the narrow tunnel. It wasn¡¯t a perfect fit, but it would deter any smaller creatures and provide a small measure of security.


    I backtracked through the tunnels, making my way back to the entrance of the Rat Warrens. I checked the area around the entrance, hoping to find more of those loose spirit shards. But there were none. It seemed my earlier find had been a lucky fluke.


    So, it was back to scouting.


    I spent the rest of the day mapping the sewer system, exploring new tunnels, and marking potential surface exits. The deeper I went, the more I realized just how vast this underground network was. It was far larger than I had initially imagined.


    At one point, I found myself in a long, straight corridor. It stretched for what felt like kilometers, with no junctions, no side tunnels, nothing to break the monotony of concrete walls and dripping pipes. It was unnerving, this endless, featureless tunnel. It didn¡¯t make any sense. Sewers were designed to connect buildings, to drain water, to follow the layout of the streets above. This corridor seemed to defy all logic.


    It led nowhere.


    I followed it to its end, where it abruptly terminated at a solid rock wall. No cracks, no crevices, just a smooth, impassable barrier. It was as if the tunnel had been built with no purpose, leading only to a dead end. And this was the last tunnel.


    The discovery was unsettling. Perhaps it had been altered by the merging of worlds, or perhaps it had always been this way, a hidden labyrinth beneath the city. But the conclusion was simple, the ¡±sewer strategy¡± wasn¡¯t going to work. I couldn¡¯t simply navigate this new world underground.


    But at the moment, I had no ¡°surface strategy.¡± The thought of venturing out into that chaotic landscape, facing those creatures in the open, filled me with dread. The sewers, despite their gloominess, were my sanctuary, my refuge.


    I reached my chamber and carefully replaced the grates, securing myself inside. I was exhausted, both physically and mentally. The day¡¯s exploration had yielded tangible results and given me a new perspective.


    I had ten spirit shards. Good.


    The sewers don¡¯t reach the border at all. Shit.


    The sewers were as broken as the world above. Just significantly less affected since they had no structures competing for the space, or so I am led to believe. Still, there are dead ends, inexplicable ones that make no sense whatsoever, so I can only blame otherworldly shit for it.


    What does that mean? The sewer network was cut off. It was incomplete. Severed. Just like this place, this¡­ instance, is severed from the outside world. The sewers might work as a refuge, but they will ultimately lead nowhere. Shit. Shit. Shit.


    I settled down for the night, my mind still racing with thoughts. The hissing and snarling of the trapped creatures in the circular chamber, although less intrusive now, bothers me even more.


    I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the noise even further. I needed to rest. Today wasn¡¯t a good day.


    And, just like that, morning arrived again. The night passes in a blink of an eye. Dreamless.


    With no other viable options presenting themselves, I found myself considering the Rat Warrens. The thought of facing those giant rodents still filled me with dread, but I needed spirit shards. And the dungeon was the only place I knew where I could find them.


    I made my way back through the tunnels, the ten shards in my pocket jingling softly with each step. The journey was quicker this time; I knew the route well now.


    I reached the dungeon entrance, the ethereal glow of the strange fungi illuminating the chamber. The warning message was still there, shimmering in the air.


    [Dungeon Detected: The Rat Warrens. Level: 1. Recommended Party Size: 1-3. A dungeon filled with giant rats.]


    I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. I wasn¡¯t a fighter. I was a supply chain manager for crying out loud. But I had to adapt, to become something else, if I wanted to survive.


    I stepped into the dungeon.

 Chapter 008

    The air inside was warmer and damper than the sewer tunnels, and the fungal glow cast long, distorted shadows across the walls. The chamber was larger than I had anticipated, with several narrow tunnels leading deeper into the Warrens.


    Then I heard it. A high-pitched squeaking, followed by the sound of scuttling claws on stone.


    Two giant rats emerged from one of the tunnels. They were easily the size of small dogs, with thick, matted fur, beady red eyes, and long, naked tails. They snarled, their sharp teeth bared, and advanced towards me, their movements surprisingly agile.


    My heart pounded in my chest. This was it. My first real fight.


    I gripped the axe tightly, my knuckles white. I had no training, no experience, but I had to fight.


    The axe raised towards one rat, the shield ready to bash the other. One hand for each rat.


    The rats attacked, lunging at me with surprising speed. I swung the axe, aiming for the head of the closest rat. The axe connected with a sickening thud, and the rat collapsed to the ground, its skull crushed.


    The other rat shrieked and leaped at me, its claws trying to scratch my arm. I swung the makeshift shield at him. It worked.


    I swung the axe again, this time connecting with the rat¡¯s flank. It squealed in pain and fell to the ground, twitching.


    Victory.


    The fight was over quickly, but it had been brutal. I was breathing heavily, my heart still racing. I looked at the two dead rats, their lifeless eyes staring up at me.


    I had never taken a life before. But this new world has forced me to change. I was expecting some sort of emotional moment, a catharsis or at least a system prompt. I got nothing.


    I took a deep breath. Settle my breathing and checked my body, my shield, my weapon. Then, I moved. I moved deeper into the dungeon, cautiously exploring the tunnels.


    The fungal glow illuminated the way, but it also cast long, distorted shadows that made it difficult to see clearly. It was challenging. It was thrilling.


    But my mind was filled with certainty.


    I can do this.


    Then, less than one minute later, my thoughts were filled with certainty yet again.


    Who the fuck said I could do this? Shit! Damn it! Fuck!


    As I reached another chamber, three giant rats emerged from the darkness. They were larger than the first two, and they moved faster and in a weirdly coordinated fashion. Do rats hunt in packs?


    It was at this moment I knew, I fucked up.


    This fight was much, much harder. The rats attacked from multiple angles, their sharp claws and teeth tearing at my clothes. I swung the axe wildly while trying to keep them at bay with the shield.


    I killed two of them just like before, but that created an opening that allowed the third rat to bite me on the leg. The pain was sharp and intense, and I stumbled back, falling to the ground.


    The rat saw its chance and leaped on top of me, its teeth bared, ready to finish me off. Aggressive, but not that smart. So, I raised the axe, bringing it down with all my remaining strength. The axe connected with the rat¡¯s head, and it collapsed beside me.


    I hit the already dead rat once again, for good measure, wincing in pain. The bite on my leg was deep, and the wound was bleeding. It wasn¡¯t just a scratch. This was bad.


    I sacrificed a portion of my shirt, which now was sort of looking like a cropped tank top, to make a bandage of sorts so I can at least stop the bleeding. Next stop? Home. Wash the whole thing, and the bandage and myself. And I hope it will be enough.


    I checked the bodies of the rats, finding the spirit shards embedded in their fur, near the base of their skulls. I carefully collected them, placing them in my pocket.


    I counted them. Two more. Combined with the ones I already had, I now had twelve. I got two more shards in less than ten minutes. But screwed myself in the process.


    The wound on my leg was a serious problem with the distinct possibility of turning into a deadly one if I didn¡¯t act fast. It was deep, and still bleeding. If I had a campfire I would most certainly know how to solve the bleeding and stave away infection in a single painful move. But I didn¡¯t.


    Either way, I couldn¡¯t continue fighting in this condition. And if my hearing wasn¡¯t messed up I would have company soon. For all that I knew that was a rat wave incoming.


    I looked around the chamber, while limping towards the way I came, but I noticed a narrow tunnel that I hadn¡¯t seen before. It was hidden behind a pile of rubble, but it looked like it led upwards.


    I knew the surface wasn¡¯t ideal, but how was I supposed to deal with a bunch of rats while limping through narrow sewer corridors? Better to find a smaller exit and sacrifice my shield to block their way while I did my best to escape.


    I approached the tunnel cautiously, pushing the rubble aside. The tunnel was narrow, which was perfect, my shield would be a fine blockade. But it was also steep, which wasn¡¯t ideal when your left leg is down for the count. I swear I was feeling my leg go numb.


    Still, it was much, much better than going down or trying my luck in the sewers. And it still seemed like an exit. No sounds and too much light for it to be anything else. Or so I told myself.


    As the scurrying noise became a little louder I squeezed through the tunnel, climbing upwards. After a couple of meters of climbing in a rather awkward position I slide my shield down and use my right leg to turn it within the narrow tunnel. It protested, but two kicks later and it was back to its former function as a grate. I sighed and kept making my way up using the axe as a climbing tool.


    The air became fresher as I got closer to the surface. Finally, I reached the end of the tunnel and found myself facing yet another metal grate.


    Very weird. This wasn¡¯t part of the sewers. Was it?


    I gently pushed the grate open, doing my best to be silent, and climbed out, emerging into the dim light of the outside world. It was late afternoon. And a dozen steps away was a wall of haze. Huh?


    I sighed. I was near what seemed to be the border of the instance. The air shimmered slightly, as if heat was rising from the ground. And I just knew what I had to do.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    [Instance borders are mild spatial distortions that keep the instances completely independent from the overworld. They usually present themselves as a wall of atmospheric pressure that might be shown as a wall of haze if it¡¯s warmer outside, of mild fog if it¡¯s colder outside, of dense fog if it¡¯s freezing cold outside, of gently falling water if it¡¯s raining outside, and so on. But it might also appear in various different configurations according to the differences between the conditions inside and outside the barrier. A barrier might present itself in different configurations over border points due to different external conditions.]


    And there goes one shard. Eleven left. But at least I pretty much confirmed. This is a border.


    I looked back at the grate, then at the wound on my leg. It had stopped bleeding, but my leg was now shaking a little. Not a good sign. I checked my back pockets. One meal worth of food with me.


    Sigh.


    I wasn¡¯t feeling particularly confident in acquiring spirit shards within this instance fast enough. Not when three big rats were more than enough to fuck me up like this. That¡¯s it. It was time to get out of this place and find another way to get shards, and then return.


    I only got eleven spirit shards after eight days. And now I needed to rest and recover.


    Ten will be gone after I cross the border. If I survive after stepping out I would need¡­ at least three weeks to get the twenty five shards, if I find them like I did it in here, before coming back to rescue Mark and take him out with me.


    Well, a little over one month of waiting inside the crystal is not that bad. I spent over two months there and I am still fine. And Mark did need some recovery time, I guess. Plus, he did give me clear instructions: hide, leave, come back. So, I¡¯m not really leaving him behind, right?


    It was time to leave. I wish I had time to fetch my food, but for now, I need to find a way to tend my leg and crawling in sewers will definitely screw me.


    Maybe, just maybe, I might come across people who can help me find out how to get things done without getting fucked up by what seem to be ¡°level 1¡± enemies. Whatever that means.


    I took a deep breath and stepped into the barrier.


    And I felt it before the system added insult to injury.


    *Leaving instance. Ten spirit shards were absorbed by the barrier.*


    The shards I was holding were gone.


    Stepping out of the shimmering distortion that marked the edge of the instance felt like stepping into a different world, even though it was technically the same¡­ merged world. The air here was clearer, less heavy and missing the metallic tang and damp earth scent. The swirling sky, while still chaotic, seemed almost peaceful.


    And there were other people. Holy shit that was fast.


    A small group had set up a makeshift camp just a couple dozen meters from the instance¡¯s edge. A small fire crackled merrily, casting flickering shadows across their faces. Several skewers, laden with what looked like chunks of meat and vegetables, were roasting over the flames. A wooden keg rested nearby, its spigot dripping occasionally.


    They looked¡­ out of place. Like they had stepped straight out of a LARP event. One of them, a tall, muscular man with a braided beard and leather armor, carried a large, two-handed sword. Another, a woman with long, flowing red hair and a tunic, held a wooden staff. Others wore a mix of scavenged clothing and makeshift armor, creating a bizarre ensemble that somehow fit perfectly within this bizarre new reality. Make no mistake, I was clearly the odd looking one.


    My black hair was filled with dust and grime, my shirt was pretty much gone, same for my pants that were no more than rags at this point and my shoes were caked in mud. There wasn¡¯t a single patch of skin in my body that was clean. I didn¡¯t have time to clean up after the clusterfuck that was my first delving session. I was definitely not expecting to meet people this fast.


    Sure, I could have cleaned up within the instance before coming out, but I don¡¯t think a roaming gator would just ignore me while I did that. Also, the whole mud and grime must help hiding my scent from those damned things. It was a strategic choice, ok? Shit.


    I could see the group was somewhat tense while trying to appear calm. Was I looking the same? Or I was just looking like a deer in headlights? Because that¡¯s how I was feeling. Still, I stretched and fainted normalcy, whatever that meant now, before lifting my hand in a small gesture of greeting.


    I took in the atmosphere around the campfire. Their gear and posture. It made a strange kind of sense. Who was I to question anything anymore? The world had instances, dungeons, and a System to make sure it all worked. Why not people dressed like fantasy characters?


    They turned to me as I emerged from the instance, their faces a mixture of curiosity and caution, watching as I stretched and greeted them. Certainly doing the same thing as I was, evaluating the other party, judging. I did feel a little lacking.


    Finally, the man with the sword suddenly stopped frowning and stepped forward, smiling, his hand resting on the hilt. Did he somehow conclude I pose no threat at all?


    ¡°Well met,¡± he said, his voice deep and resonant. ¡°You¡¯ve come out of that instance. That is quite a feat if I may say. Escaped in one piece?¡±


    I nodded slowly, my eyes scanning the group. They seemed¡­ friendly enough.


    ¡°I did,¡± I replied, my voice hoarse from disuse.


    ¡°Welcome, then,¡± the man said, gesturing towards the fire. ¡°Rest, warm yourself. You look like you¡¯ve seen better days. Or weeks.¡±


    I hesitated for a moment, then cautiously approached the fire. The warmth was welcome, chasing away the chill that had settled in my bones during my time in the sewers. I barely noticed it then.


    I sat down on a nearby log, keeping my distance from the others. I kept my eyes moving, observing their movements, their expressions. It was a habit ingrained from years of navigating the cutthroat world of social interactions. And in this new world, that felt even more justified.


    ¡°I am Gareth,¡± the man with the sword said, extending his hand. ¡°And these are my companions: Elara, Finn, Bronwyn, and Rhys.¡±


    I shook his hand briefly, my grip firm but not aggressive. ¡°Vincent,¡± I replied.


    ¡°So, Vincent,¡± Gareth said, his eyes twinkling. ¡°What did you face within the instance?¡±


    I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But at this moment there was no point in sounding mysterious and even less of a point in sugarcoating it. ¡°Big ass lizards,¡± I said finally. ¡°Velociraptors on steroids with alligator jaws.¡±


    ¡°Raptors?¡± Elara, the woman with the staff, asked, her eyes widening. ¡°Did we meet those?¡±


    ¡°Truth be told, they look more like small spinos,¡± Finn said. ¡°With thick tails.¡±


    Gareth nodded slowly. ¡°Ah, yes. We¡¯ve come across them before. Nasty swamp creatures.¡±


    I noticed the way he said ¡°come across¡±. It was a subtle detail, but it reinforced my notion that these people were much more experienced in this new world than I was.


    ¡°I managed to keep away from them,¡± I said, not wanting to go into detail.


    ¡°I believe you,¡± Gareth said, smiling. ¡°You seem unscathed enough.¡±


    I glanced down at my leg, at the torn trousers now covering my wound. It wasn¡¯t  bleeding anymore, thankfully, but I still didn¡¯t want to draw attention to it.


    ¡°It was a close call,¡± I said simply.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re safe now,¡± Gareth said, clapping me on the shoulder. ¡°Rest, eat, and drink. You¡¯ve earned it.¡±


    He gestured towards the fire and the keg. ¡°We have some roasted rabbit and some¡­ well, it¡¯s not exactly fine ale, but it works.¡±


    I nodded gratefully and took a piece of the roasted rabbit. It was tough and slightly charred, but it was hot and filling. I also took a sip from the keg. It was water, thankfully, slightly stale but still refreshing.


    As I ate, I continued to observe the group. And they seem to not really care about my presence, except for the archer, Finn, who never looked away. Smart.


    They were all armed, some with swords and bows, others with daggers and clubs. They moved with a confidence that I lacked, a sense of familiarity with this dangerous world.


    They started talking among themselves about some of their experiences, encounters with different creatures, brief explorations of some instances. They spoke of spirit shards as if they were common currency, casually mentioning the acquisition of ¡°gifts¡± from the System.


    I listened intently, trying to glean as much information as possible. They mentioned different types of challenges, difficulties, resources and kept on discussing as if planning to go after them. They even mentioned rumors of powerful artifacts and hidden locations.


    They were survivors, adapted to this new reality, experienced in its dangers and its rewards.


    I finished my meal and took another sip of water. I needed to find a way to get more spirit shards, to become stronger, to be able to protect myself. And these people¡­ they might be the key.


    Despite how stupid it might sound, I got a new strategy. Time to make some friends.

 Chapter 009

    The plan was simple.


    Don¡¯t antagonize anyone. Don¡¯t threaten anyone. Be nice. Show that I am worthy of their trust while also sharing stuff that makes them feel the same. Try to be useful or perhaps even valuable.


    Unfortunately, all of this seems like a stretch.


    They are armed and armored adventurers. I look like a half naked pencil pusher escaping from the place they are most likely thinking of raiding next. And all I got is a fire axe. And a bad leg, which I am pretty sure they noticed but chose not to comment on it. Maybe they are just nice people?


    Yeah, not much of a point in staying on the defensive. Still, I will do my best to not step on any toes. Especially Finn. The guy just keeps glaring at me and frowning.


    Sure, I could play the meek lost guy. Except I would never be able to stomach it. Better to just enjoy my time and try to get some information before they go into ¡®adventuring mode¡¯.


    It¡¯s not like I can do anything else. My whole experience since waking up is going up a pipe, then going down a hose, crawling and hiding in the sewers, sabotaging a vending machine, boobtrapping a big grate, swinging my axe a grand total of seven times and getting screwed by three rats.


    I wonder what they would say if they knew my best combat move so far consisted of bleeding all over the place and screaming alone in a dark corner. Because that¡¯s literally what I did to literally take down those four crocs. At least it sounds like good joke material.


    At some point I discovered that I didn¡¯t like being without my shield. I felt sort of unprepared, almost naked. The axe did bring me a little sense of safety, but it wasn¡¯t the same.


    Not that it would matter much if they decide to be done with me.


    Well, better to come clean and see if they are actually nice people or not. Worst case scenario, I am dead. But like I said, if they plan on doing it, there¡¯s nothing I can do about that. And I am not fond of waiting. On the bright side, they might appreciate the fact that I have some spine.


    ¡°So, I woke up in what I now know was an instance,¡± I began, my voice firm. ¡°It was my office. At the university. Everything was¡­ different. People were frozen in crystal.¡±


    Gareth nodded slowly, his expression grave. ¡°We¡¯ve seen it first hand. The crystallization¡­ it¡¯s a terrible sight.¡±


    ¡°So did I. My friend was taken over by it right in front of me before I bolted,¡± I continued, my voice getting a little gentler. ¡°He passed me some spirit shards. Told me to escape. To come back for him.¡±


    Elara, the woman with the staff, placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said softly. ¡°It¡¯s a cruel fate. But you are not at fault.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± I murmured. But why would I think it¡¯s my fault? Anyway¡­


    ¡°Then I used the shards he gave me to get more information, so I could escape, I spent six of them in less than one minute¡± I said, focusing on the facts, avoiding any emotional details. ¡°It told me about the merging of worlds, the Myriad Realms, the temporal instances.¡±


    ¡°The System is¡­ impartial,¡± Gareth said, his voice hardening slightly. ¡°It offers information, and also other things that might help, but it doesn¡¯t offer help itself.¡±


    ¡°Then I found out that I needed ten shards to exit the instance,¡± I continued. ¡°And I only had four left by them. So, I promptly spent them on getting more information.¡± I gave a dry chuckle. ¡°Maybe not my brightest moment, strategically speaking. But at that point I found it to be a necessary investment for my survival.¡± Very much so.


    A few of them chuckled along with me, easing the tension slightly.


    ¡°We actually checked out an instance not far from here,¡± Finn, the glaring and frowning bowslinger, spoke up. ¡°Right after it¡­ formed, I guess you could say. We saw a bunch of crystalized people, just like you described. But there wasn¡¯t anything else. No visible creatures, no resources. Nothing.¡±


    ¡°One of us even went inside to take a look,¡± Bronwyn, a woman with a scarred face and a no-nonsense demeanor, added. ¡°Confirmed the crystalized people, just like the System said there would be. But came out empty handed. Nothing but blue statues.¡±


    Gareth nodded. ¡°It seems some instances are¡­ barren. Empty. Like echoes of what once was. We didn¡¯t figure them out. Not yet at least.¡±


    ¡°This one isn¡¯t barren at all¡± I said, choosing my words carefully. ¡°I manage to get more shards and make my way out, but I would give it a bad review if I could.¡±


    ¡°We were actually still learning about how instances work,¡± Gareth said. ¡°For example, now we know that the first person to enter an instance doesn''t need to pay any shards. But it still costs ten to exit.¡±


    ¡°And dungeons are the opposite,¡± Elara added. ¡°You pay to enter, not to leave.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not what I experienced,¡± I said, furrowing my brow. ¡°I didn¡¯t have to pay to enter the dungeon in my instance.¡±


    They exchanged glances, a knowing look passing between them.


    ¡°A dungeon?¡± Gareth asked, his voice containing a hint of doubt. ¡°Within an instance? That¡¯s¡­ unusual. Are you sure?¡±


    Yep. Certainly a doubt. Distrust or curiosity?


    ¡°It had a system message and everything,¡± I said, mimicking the way the text had shimmered in the air. Dungeon Detected: The Rat Warrens. Level: 1.


    ¡°Rats?¡± Rhys, a quiet man with a dagger at his belt, finally spoke up. He grimaced. ¡°I suppose they were giant rats. If so, those are nasty. We¡¯ve encountered them. They¡¯re tougher than they look.¡±


    ¡°So, you managed to come out of an instance that had both monsters and a dungeon?¡± Gareth asked, frowning slightly and looking meaningfully at Finn, a strong hint of suspicion in his voice. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ really quite a feat.¡± He said while looking at Finn, but still talking to me. I assumed.


    Finn shrugged while looking back at Gareth. Saying nothing. But I was sure he was actually saying quite a lot. I¡¯m not liking this.


    Gareth turned back to me. ¡°Dungeons within instances work differently,¡± Gareth explained. ¡°They don¡¯t¡­ replenish, or regenerate, or whatever it is they do. They¡¯re static, contained within the instance. Perhaps that¡¯s why they don¡¯t charge a fee.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°That makes sense,¡± I said, nodding slowly. It was a logical explanation, fitting with the System¡¯s cold, transactional nature.


    This wasn¡¯t so bad. Even if not very useful so far, I was learning about the mechanics of instances and dungeons, for free. But the way they keep looking at each other is not reassuring at all.


    I also learned something else, something interesting: some of them didn¡¯t have poker faces, unlike Gareth, and seemed somewhat impressed with me. Surprisingly, Finn, despite all his glaring and frowning, almost whistled when I talked about the dungeon. Perhaps he is not as strict as I thought?


    They were impressed that I got out of the place. This could be useful. If they saw me as worthy of their time, they might be more willing to share more. Maybe even some resources. I wouldn¡¯t complain if they had a shield no one uses stashed in one of their big backpacks.


    Or maybe see me as worthy competition or even a threat, which might be a problem.


    Regardless, the conversation flowed, fueled by the warmth of the fire and the shared experience of surviving in this strange new world. The group, having clearly spent a considerable number of spirit shards on System queries, were surprisingly forthcoming with their knowledge.


    They seemed to view me as a newcomer, eager to share their insights. I noticed some hints here and there that perhaps they are interviewing me, as in thinking about recruiting me to their group. I was somewhat happy about that.


    But I will be even more happy if I manage to recruit them instead.


    ¡°So, about rescuing people from instances,¡± Gareth began, swirling the remaining water in his cup. ¡°It¡¯s tricky. We¡¯ve tried it a few times.¡±


    ¡°There are two ways to ¡®clear¡¯ an instance, so to speak,¡± Elara explained. ¡°Either you eliminate the source of the instance ¨C the threat that created it in the first place ¨C or you rescue everyone trapped inside.¡±


    ¡°But simply rescuing everyone doesn¡¯t always solve the problem,¡± Finn added, his brow furrowed. ¡°We learned that the hard way. We pulled a group of people out of an instance once, thinking we¡¯d done a good deed. But it turned out that the act of clearing the instance without dealing with the core threat just released it into the world outside. Made things much worse.¡±


    A chill ran down my spine. That might explain why some instances were simply barren. In most cases the threat is dealt with and the instance cleared completely. But in other cases¡­ the threat won, but, still locked within, it hides. Waiting to be unleashed. Did they think of that?


    ¡°So, if I wanted to rescue my friend¡­¡± I began, my voice trailing off.


    ¡°One person is easy.¡± Finn said. ¡°You go in. Find the person. Spend five shards to get them out of the crystal and haul ass out of there with the twenty shards you need to exit in hand. And that¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°Not that simple with monsters around.¡± Said Gareth while frowning. ¡°Especially monsters that like to move in packs and ambush you for fun.¡±


    ¡°For fun?¡± I couldn¡¯t help but ask.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Flinn said while sighing. ¡°They can¡¯t kill you. So, eating you is out of the question. All thanks to the whole crystal thing. But they still keep doing it. For the fun of it. Like a cat playing with mice.¡±


    ¡°In short,¡± Gareth said while glaring at Finn. ¡°Not easy at all. Reaching the person you want to set free might be hard, and ¡®hauling ass¡¯ will just end up with you falling into a trap or ambush.¡±


    Finn scratched his head and gave me a crooked smile. ¡°Gareth is right. Sorry. I might have given you the wrong impression, what I mean was that getting a single person free is easier since you don¡¯t need to actually defeat the monsters, but that doesn¡¯t make it easy at all.¡±


    Gareth snorted. ¡°To do things properly, as the system states, you have to be able to handle whatever created the instance in the first place, anything else might not work¡± Gareth finished.


    ¡°It¡¯s a gamble,¡± Bronwyn said bluntly.


    ¡°How so?¡± I didn¡¯t see how it could be a gamble.


    The conversation shifted to the System itself, its cold, transactional nature, and its seemingly insatiable hunger for spirit shards. I waited for the two subjects to be linked.


    ¡°The System charges a single shard for most basic information,¡± Rhys explained. ¡°It seems like a small price to pay. And it is. For one question.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s deceptive,¡± Gareth interjected. ¡°Because you never get the full picture with just one question. You have to ask a dozen, maybe even more, to get a good understanding of anything you want more information on. And each single question costs a shard.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a clever tactic,¡± Elara said, shaking her head. ¡°It gets you hooked. You start asking questions, and you realize you need more answers. And to get those answers, you need more shards.¡±


    I listened intently. I had experienced this firsthand, spending over half my starting shards on basic information about my situation. I desperately wanted to ask them about the best ways to acquire shards, but I held back. It was too soon. I didn¡¯t want to appear too eager, too desperate.


    ¡°To prepare for an instance you need to know about it.¡± Gareth said. ¡°This takes quite a few shards and even then you might need to do some scouting. Those are risks you take without even knowing if it will be worth it. It might just be a waste of shards.¡±


    ¡°A gamble.¡± Bronwyn said.


    ¡°And then there are the dungeons,¡± Gareth continued, his tone shifting. ¡°They¡¯re a different beast altogether. Unlike the one you found, they replenish after about a week, or so the system tells us. New monsters, new loot. And yes, there¡¯s loot within it. Actual magic items, according to the system.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why they charge you to enter,¡± Finn added. ¡°It¡¯s a recurring resource, a reliable source of spirit shards. And don¡¯t even get me started on the possibility of a magical item.¡±


    Then Gareth mentioned something that made my blood run cold. ¡°Time works differently within instances, you know?¡± he said, his voice low. ¡°It passes much slower. Ten times slower, according to the System.¡±


    ¡°Ten times slower?¡± I repeated, my voice barely a whisper.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Elara confirmed. ¡°An hour outside is only six minutes inside. A week inside is just a little over a day outside. And instances have their own day-night cycles as if they are completely disconnected from the outside world.¡±


    The implications of this were staggering. My time in the sewers, the hours I had spent hacking at those roots, the day I had spent mapping the tunnels¡­ it had all been compressed. I had spent far less time inside the instance than I had thought.


    But at the same time, the system said I spent 78 days in the crystal¡­ local time. Then, the whole time I was in there since this whole mess began¡­


    ¡°So, this whole thing started less than ten days ago?¡±, I asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Gareth sighed.


    And my last shard was gone.


    [To speed up the establishment of flourishing native civilizations the system creates instances where time flows faster to allow the swift resolution of conflicts. Within this accelerated time flow most of the recharging functions of the system are deactivated to prevent the wastage of resources. Only those worthy of the power or blessings of the system are allowed to enter or exit such instances, to either use them or destroy them. Time outside the instances flows normally. The energy harvested from instances can be used to boost the recovery and recharging functions of the overworld to better help natives to advance to the required threshold before joining the myriad realms. Acceleration factor for time flow within instances: tenfold.]


    I just couldn¡¯t help but give out a self deprecating smile while shaking my head. And here was I, thinking that it had been almost three months. I worried a lot about that. How foolish.


    Some people might think I would be offended. Tricked. Or such other bullshit. Nah. No way. What this really means is that I might be only ten days behind others. Not three months. Good.


    And if I make use of these instances properly, I can advance much faster. All I need is a bow like the one Finn has and I could shoot the crocs until they bled to death. Like shooting fish in a barrel. In a place where a week of hard work means over two months of results. Awesome.


    But then reality crashed into my plans. I was still half naked, with a fire axe as my weapon of choice, no shield and no shards. Oh, and a punctured leg risking infection.


    It¡¯s a solid plan. I¡¯m the one who can¡¯t handle it.


    I couldn¡¯t care less about the confused face of the people in front of me as I shift from thoughtful to happy and then excited before dropping my shoulders and sighing depressively. I was never one of those people that constantly worried about what other people thought of them.


    But perhaps I should pay more attention to such things.


    Because not even five minutes later I was in a combat ready instance with a reverse grip on my axe while doing my best to not look directly at the once friendly group that slowly converged towards me.

 Chapter 010

    I was disappointed by the fact that my progression plan was being botched by the one that needed to progress. Me.


    The others seem to notice my much introverted posture. They silently turned to face the fire and let me do some thinking. I didn¡¯t need to think about anything. I already have a plan. Find a way to kill trapped crocs, then kill crocs until I can hunt rats, then hunt rats for shards. Lots of them.


    The conversation continued, covering various topics: different types of monsters, some particularly weird instances, different strategies for survival. I keep listening, paying attention to absorb every piece of information, storing it away for future use, while looking over my shoulder to the instance from time to time. I made sure to tap my lag from time to time. Showing some impatience.


    I catch Gareth checking me out from time to time. Others as well. They sometimes exchanged a few glances and either nodded or shook their heads. I could see that it had nothing to do with whatever it was they were talking about. Almost like they were communicating through signs. That¡¯s probably it.


    Then, Gareth and Finn seemed to enter a somewhat heated discussion with the three others, and they were obviously talking about me, even if they tried to make me not notice it. They mentioned my instance, the creatures within, the fact it had a dungeon and the fact that I knew all of this.


    Would they kill me to make sure no one else hears about it? Will they kidnap me to show them the way there and then kill me? Are they discussing if I would be more useful as bait, as a distraction or if they should use me as a guide before deciding that?


    Then they suddenly stopped. Gareth and Finn smirked. The others frowned. Rhys even spit in anger.


    They exchanged a few looks and some were nodding to others. They slowly got up and started to come closer while starting to make a semicircle with me at the center. Ok, what the fuck is going on?


    I slowly shifted my weight to my legs. Ready to bolt back into the instance. I had to reach there first, only the first one could enter for free. My punctured left leg didn¡¯t like that at all.


    Then Gareth looked at every single one of them while nodding and smiling.


    Did they really think I was that easy? Not a chance. I slightly changed my grip on the axe while reaching for the handful of sand in my pocket. Still not looking at them directly. Come, I¡¯m ready.


    ¡°So, Vincent, it seems you have a knack for surviving and a good head on your shoulders,¡± Gareth said, a hint of respect in his voice. Smiling.


    Huh?


    I even stuttered a little, ¡°I¡­ I was just lucky,¡± I said.


    What the hell?


    He paused, considering his words. ¡°We¡¯re always looking for new members for our group. We could use someone with your¡­ potential. Care to give it a try to see if we might stick together?¡±


    I gave the best smile I could, a crooked one. ¡°Yeah?¡­ sure.¡±


    I¡¯m quite sure I didn¡¯t look confident at all. I should really pay more attention to how my actions are perceived by people. Not because it matters to me or anything like that, but because now it might actually get me killed.


    That plus my legs, especially the one with a hole in it, they are about to give up. Damn it. Sustaining my bootleg horse instance without letting them know what I was doing was tiring as fuck.


    Because I sure can¡¯t hold on like this anymore. Screw it. I will just trust them for now.


    So, I release the tension from my whole body and the handful of coarse sand in my grasp. If they were faking it, they were quite talented. Talented enough to catch me unprepared now.


    Whatever. I don¡¯t think they are that cunning. I sure hope not. It will suck big time if they are acting in order to finish me after I guide them to the rat dungeon.


    Then I remember the way they talk to each other and how they approached me. I couldn¡¯t help but give a rueful smile to Gareth, which clearly made the man quite confused, which made me smile for real and that somehow made the man smile as well.


    Dude, if I had a gun I would already shoot you all dead, alright?


    Well, things could have gone worse. A lot worse. All things considered, it was a rather satisfactory outcome if I say so myself. Now I could probably get some help and maybe even some equipment.


    Soon, I will be trapping crocs and killing rats. Not exactly high ambitions, but it will do for now.


    As night fell, the fire crackled. It was relaxing. The conversation continued, delving deeper into the intricacies of this transformed world. They were surprisingly open, sharing their hard-won knowledge with a candor that both surprised and pleased me.


    If it was some sort of bonding strategy, it was sort of working.


    ¡°One thing we¡¯ve figured out about instances,¡± Gareth said, poking at the fire with a stick, ¡°is that they can be preserved, in a sense.¡±


    ¡°Preserved?¡± I asked, tilting my head.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Elara explained. ¡°According to the system, if there¡¯s at least one person left to rescue inside, the instance remains stable. It doesn¡¯t dissipate.¡±


    ¡°So, if you rescue everyone it disappears. But if you leave a single person, it remains?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It seems so,¡± Gareth confirmed. ¡°We never actually tested it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ strategically interesting,¡± I murmured, my mind already racing with the implications. It meant that instances could be used as a form of¡­ storage. A way to keep people safe, albeit in a frozen state, until they could be properly rescued.


    I am quite sure Gareth threw a strange look my way. Better let them do the talking.


    ¡°It also means that clearing most instances is a huge undertaking,¡± Bronwyn added, her scarred face grim. ¡°Even if you know exactly what needs to be done, thanks to information from the System, it takes a lot of time and resources.¡±


    ¡°Spirit shards,¡± Finn said, sighing. ¡°Lots and lots of spirit shards.¡±


    ¡°Which is a resource we can¡¯t afford to waste,¡± Gareth said, his voice hardening. ¡°Not yet, at least.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve learned that rescuing people is a costly endeavor,¡± Elara explained. ¡°You have to spend shards to enter the instance, time and effort that could be spent getting shards to deal with the threats inside, and even more shards to bring the rescued people out.¡±


    ¡°And there¡¯s no guarantee that the people you rescue will be¡­ helpful,¡± Bronwyn added, her tone pragmatic. ¡°They might be injured, traumatized, or just plain useless. You could end up wasting precious shards on rescuing a bunch of burdens.¡±


    A heavy silence fell over the group. The implications of Bronwyn¡¯s words hung in the air. It was clear that they found it unsettling, this new reality. And they wanted to share it with me.


    The world had become cruel, in a strange, almost clinical way. Not precisely through open violence, but through cold, calculated logic. The system creates a new environment after its own image. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    And I did my best to not smirk. Oh, it seems there¡¯s hope for this lot.


    From the way they treated me I didn¡¯t think they would have such a cute side. Yes, my people, we will exploit the shit out of those instances. And yes, we will keep people within crystals on purpose.


    At least I didn¡¯t say this one out loud. Gareth might throw a mug at me or something. He might be thinking the same as me, but he sure seems divided about it. Poor fellow.


    ¡°We haven¡¯t seen much violence among survivors so far,¡± Gareth said, breaking the silence. ¡°But I suspect that will change. As resources become scarcer, and as people become more desperate¡­¡±


    He trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. I understood his meaning. In a world where survival was paramount, trust was a luxury few could afford. I am liking this better and better.


    More silence. And I waited for the next heavy topic. But end up with something rather bland.


    ¡°We believe that instances¡­ weaken those trapped inside,¡± Elara said, changing the subject. ¡°It¡¯s just a theory, but I don¡¯t think we are wrong.¡±


    ¡°Weakened?¡± I asked. Somewhat downcast by the change of subject.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s as if being trapped in the crystal drains their strength, their vitality. Like being bedridden for a long time.¡±


    ¡°So, the longer someone is trapped, the worse it is for them?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Gareth said. ¡°We think that anything longer than a month, from our perspective, would be like a whole year trapped inside those crystals. And that can¡¯t be good for your health.¡±


    ¡°The problem is,¡± Finn said, ¡°not many people are effectively engaging in taking people out of the instances as far as we can tell. Everyone is focused on getting a foothold first, on getting stronger to properly face dungeons and instances. Preferably in that order since gaining resources is more important than spending them at this stage.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a vicious cycle,¡± Gareth said, sighing. ¡°People need to get stronger to rescue others, but they need resources to get stronger. And those resources are often locked behind dangerous instances and dungeons.¡±


    Come on, Gareth, say it: and the more people we free the more people needing shards we will have and the hardest will become to become stronger. It¡¯s only logical, no need to play coy.


    The conversation drifted to other topics, equally interesting, but nowhere as stimulating: rumors of powerful artifacts, hidden locations, strange occurrences in the merged landscapes. They spoke of these things with a mix of awe and fear, their voices hushed, as if they were sharing ancient secrets.


    Things out of my reach, or our reach as a group, for that matter. Interesting, but ultimately useless, bordering on delusional. Dreaming of greatness while stuck in the mud.


    Still, I listened intently, absorbing every word. This group, despite being somewhat reluctant in fully adapting to this new reality, were doing their best. Commendable. But it might not be enough. I chose to say nothing about it, to each its own, for now they are a valuable source of information. They had clearly spent a lot of time and resources figuring out some of the rules of this new world.


    I still didn¡¯t trust them. And I am sure they don¡¯t trust me, obviously. But I was beginning to see them as apt survivors, adaptable, sort of like me, although less ¡®effective¡¯. And in this dangerous new world, alliances, however tenuous, could mean the difference between life and death. I needed this.


    That rat dungeon might be a joke for them. Easy pickings. Shards galore. And I, as a member of the group, even if under ¡®probation¡¯, would be eligible for some shards, right? Sure, I will. If they don¡¯t plan to let me lead them there, use me as a porter and then kill me, of course.


    As the night deepened and the fire dwindled, the conversation slowed. The group began to settle down for sleep. Some blankets the ground, no tent, no nothing. Not even any kind of alarm system or anything. Pretty much just wrapping themselves in blankets and cloaks. Subpar, to say the least.


    I remained awake for a while longer, my mind still racing with thoughts. I now had an understanding, even if somewhat shallow, of the challenges I will face. And I was quite sure that I would be way over my head if I tried to do this alone at a quick pace.


    Sure, I could do it alone. But it would probably be much slower. Rather ineffective. Five people, six counting me, tackling monsters and using shards to get information means sixfold the speed, or at least fivefold since I am currently somewhat useless. We can share the information after all.


    With enough information I would be able to get stronger. Then I would be able to hunt and explore properly, to find more spirit shards. And then I could pay my debt towards Mark.


    The task no longer seemed daunting. Not if I had help. I would use every bit of knowledge, every bit of resourcefulness I possessed, to come up with a suitable plan. And I would rescue at least the guy who pulled me out of there while losing his chance to do so.


    Unsurprisingly, sleep eluded me. The flickering fire cast dancing shadows that played tricks on my eyes, and the soft snores of Bronwyn and Finn did little to soothe my restless mind. Receptiveness didn¡¯t equate to trustworthiness.


    Their conversation had given me much to consider, a complex web of information about instances, dungeons, and the System. But in the end, it boiled down to three core necessities: sustenance, Spirit shards, and, in my case, healing.


    Sustenance. I needed to ensure I had enough food and water to sustain myself, and potentially Mark, if I managed to rescue him. The supplies I had salvaged from the vending machine were a good start, but they wouldn¡¯t last forever. I needed to find a reliable way to get food and water by exploring the overworld or other instances. Perhaps finding the freaking cafeteria.


    Spirit shards were the next priority. I needed twenty-five. Five for Mark¡¯s release and another twenty for both of us to exit the instance. I was confident I could handle the rescue by myself without any ¡°gifts¡±. My plan to navigate through the sewers, use the fire hose to climb the building, and access the office was still sound. But getting out was a different story.


    If taking the same path meant I have to go though that rat infested dungeon again. And I don¡¯t know if having Mark with me would make things better or worse. What if twice the people means twice the rats? I don¡¯t know how dungeons really work and they had been a group from the start and never had to deal with this.


    Finally, healing. The bite from the giant rat was deep, and it was starting to throb with a dull ache. The bleeding stopped long ago, but the wound was still bothering me. A lot. I carefully examined the wound in the dim light of the fire. The skin around the bite was red and swollen. It wasn¡¯t a good sign. I knew I couldn¡¯t deal with this on my own. It¡¯s infected. I needed help. Shit.


    A wave of reluctance washed over me. Showing weakness felt¡­ risky. But I had no other choice. An untreated infection could be fatal in this world, especially without access to proper medical supplies.


    My hope is that perhaps one of them had acquired a healing-related ¡°gift¡± from the System. I didn¡¯t see any sign indicating they did, but it was worth a try. I mean, they are a group, the girl with the staff, Elara, could have some healing stuff going on to help them. It¡¯s only logical.


    I can¡¯t risk letting it end this way. It would be too shameful. Can you imagine it?


    Vincent, a brave survivor, rescued by the sacrifice of a colleague, faced insurmountable odds alone and trapped four five-meter-long velocicrocs, ultimately leading them to their demise in a tactical, cold and cool manner while preparing to come back to repay the favor he owed the fallen. But never accomplished his task because he died¡­ from an infection¡­ due to a freaking rat bite.


    ¡­


    Ok, that does it.


    ¡°Gareth?¡±, I asked softly.


    ¡°Yes?¡± Gareth answered calmly with his eyes still closed, appearing to be close to nodding off.


    I knew that he was just appearing drowsy. No way they would trust me to not slit their throats while they slept. And leaving someone to stand watch was basic, after all.


    Now, it was time to come clean. To tell them I was not in top shape. To tell them I might be a liability as well, one of those people we discussed earlier, the ones not worth investing in, not worth saving.


    I took a deep breath. Well, the worst outcome would be me going back into a crystal coffin until some good samaritan, or a delusional person with a hero complex, came to my rescue. And then I would do my best to start from the bottom, to improve¡­ and then I would hunt them down, turn them into crystal statues one by one and throw them in some ocean crevice or maybe an active volcano.


    Ok, smile Vincent, be nice, happy thoughts. No thinking of hunting and killing the party that just invited you to tag along as you are gathering the nerve to ask for their help. That¡¯s impolite.


    So, I smiled faintly while looking up. Realizing this does make me feel a little awkward. The ¡®asking for help¡¯ part, not the ¡®hunt them down and kill them¡¯ part.


    Gareth still didn¡¯t open his eyes. Perhaps he was thinking I was one of those people who make small talk after a near death experience to cope. Waiting for me to gather my thoughts. How considerate. I can only hope they are as nice as they seem. Or else I will go with the volcano, it¡¯s more challenging and dramatic. The bottom of the ocean seems lackluster.


    Another deep breath and I was as ready as I would ever be. I made peace with the outcomes that I could think about. The ball would be on their field now. Their choice.


    Truth be told, I wasn¡¯t as calm as I wanted. My knuckles white as I held onto the blanket and waited for whatever fate had in reserve for me. But I don¡¯t think anyone would notice that. The fact I made peace with all possible outcomes I considered doesn¡¯t mean I would be happy about facing it.


    To anyone looking, I was just enjoying the breeze. Facing the sky with my eyes closed.


    In truth, I lifted my head and closed my eyes to make it easier for him to strike my neck. To let it end quickly and all that, just in case.


    Then I got straight to the point.


    ¡°Does any of you happen to know how to treat a possibly infected rat bite that was kept hidden for a few hours by an idiot that has trust issues?¡±

 Chapter 011

    I waited for a while. It felt like a lot, but I¡¯m pretty sure it was just a few seconds. I massaged my neck that thankfully was still in one piece. I opened my eyes and looked at Gareth.


    The man, now seated in his improvised mattress, just smiled and made a motion with his head towards my leg. As expected, they already realized. They were just waiting for me to come clean.


    Awkward.


    I pulled up my torn trousers, revealing the wound. Gareth examined it closely, his brow furrowed.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ nasty,¡± he said. ¡°It looks infected.¡±


    My heart sank. I had feared as much.


    ¡°Do any of you have any way to help me with this mess?¡± I asked, my voice low.


    Gareth looked at the others, who were now starting to stir. Apparently none of them were sleeping, other than Finn and Bronwyn, that is. Because they sure weren¡¯t faking those snores.


    Elara, the woman with the staff, approached us, her expression concerned.


    ¡°Let me see,¡± she said, gently pushing Gareth aside. She knelt down and examined the wound, her fingers probing gently around the bite.


    ¡°It¡¯s not too deep,¡± she said, looking up at me. ¡°But it¡¯s definitely infected. Rats always do that. It¡¯s like their ¡®gift¡¯ or something. Slightly troublesome. We have some herbs that might help, but¡­¡±


    She trailed off, her expression uncertain.


    ¡°But what?¡± I asked, my stomach clenching. Did I really fucked up? Will I have to turn into a crystal statue for a while to recover?


    ¡°We don¡¯t have any proper healing magic,¡± Gareth said, his voice apologetic. ¡°Elara has some knowledge of herbal remedies, but they¡¯re not nearly as effective.¡±


    I sighed in relief. There was a way. Or at least a chance


    ¡°We¡¯ve heard rumors of people with powerful healing abilities,¡± Finn added while yawning. ¡°But we haven¡¯t encountered any ourselves.¡±


    Heard rumors where? From who? I wanted to ask, but kept my mouth shut.


    A wave of disappointment washed over me. But I didn¡¯t let it show. I was still hoping for some quick fix, a magical cure or something like that. I¡¯m sure this bullshit system had a recipe for a freaking healing potion but was holding out to avoid making things too easy. Or it would charge an exorbitant price. Most likely the second option.


    Either way, it seemed I would have to rely on more mundane methods. Slow methods. Inefficient methods. But still, better than whatever I could come up with. Yep, cauterization for sure.


    ¡°The herbs will help to slow the infection and allow your body to fight it,¡± Elara said, rummaging through a small pouch she carried at her belt. ¡°But you¡¯ll need to keep it clean and bandaged.¡±


    She pulled out a handful of dried leaves and some strips of cloth. ¡°These are some cleansing herbs,¡± she explained. ¡°And this cloth is clean, though not sterile.¡±


    She showed me how to prepare a poultice from the herbs and how to bandage the wound. It was a rudimentary treatment, but it was better than nothing.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, my voice sincere.


    ¡°It¡¯s the least we can do,¡± Gareth said. ¡°We¡¯re all in this together.¡±


    As I bandaged my leg, I thought about their words. ¡°We¡¯re all in this together.¡± It was a comforting sentiment, but I knew it wasn¡¯t entirely true. We were all survivors, yes, but we were also individuals, each with our own goals and motivations.


    That fact that I didn¡¯t trust these people hardly mattered now. They had helped me when I needed it. That was enough. I would help them in return.


    For the moment, I had a small respite, a temporary alliance with a group of strangers. And that, in itself, was a small victory. Bigger ones are bound to come. Soon.


    And while I was thinking about this unlikely alliance, the pain in my leg had subsided, replaced by a cool, soothing sensation from the herbal poultice. It was a welcome relief, allowing me to focus on the more pressing matters at hand. It was time for a more direct conversation. A conversation about spirit shards. And growth.


    They had mentioned that shards were relatively easy to obtain. Easy for them, perhaps. They were armed, experienced, and some of them possessed abilities granted by the System. I, on the other hand, had only a slightly dull axe, and a slowly healing bite wound.


    I had dispatched two giant rats without much trouble, relying on instinct and a makeshift shield. But the second encounter had been a rude wake up call. I had been wounded, and I knew my current method, if it can even be called that, wasn¡¯t reliable at all.


    It made sense that they considered shards easy to acquire. Their methods work. But I needed to know their methods, their strategies. I needed to find a way to acquire the twenty five shards needed to rescue Mark and let us both leave that place safely. If we decided to leave, that is.


    I would have to do my best to convince Mark that staying there was actually more beneficial. The time dilation effect couldn¡¯t be denied. I can deal with the danger. Rather easily, in fact.


    Mark wasn¡¯t a close friend, not really. We were more like colleagues, bound by the experience of working in the same department. But he did help me, releasing me from whatever force had held me captive. It¡¯s only natural that I do the same. Preferably without ending up like him.


    Sure, if he still wanted to venture out of the instance like this group, that was fine. I wouldn¡¯t. Not if I can handle the things within it by myself. All I need is to repay my debt to him and perhaps ask him some questions. Ok, maybe a lot of questions.


    He might know how I ended up encased in crystal since all I saw was that the sky had shifted through an impossible spectrum of colors. And I need to recruit these people to come with me and show me the ropes, because I need shards. So, in the end, it¡¯s all Mark¡¯s fault.


    And, yes, this whole talk is just to make me willing to ask for more help while blaming it on Mark.


    I cleared my throat, drawing the attention of the group. They were still gathered around the fire, no one had gone back to sleep. Some sharpening their weapons, others cleaning their gear.


    ¡°You mentioned that spirit shards are relatively easy to come by,¡± I began, choosing my words carefully. ¡°I¡¯m interested in learning more about that.¡±


    Gareth looked up, his eyes meeting mine. ¡°It depends on what you¡¯re willing to do,¡± he said, his voice cautious.


    ¡°I usually adapt fast to deal with problems,¡± I replied, my voice firm. ¡°I need to acquire some shards. I have someone I need to get out of there.¡± I gesture to the instance behind me.


    ¡°We understand,¡± Elara said, her expression sympathetic. ¡°It¡¯s a common goal.¡±


    ¡°There are several ways to acquire shards,¡± Gareth explained. ¡°The most common is by defeating Hostile Entities. Monsters, basically.¡±


    ¡°I did some of that,¡± I said, putting a hand over my wound and thinking of the giant rats. ¡°But I¡¯m not exactly trained for combat.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°That¡¯s where dungeons come in,¡± Finn said, his eyes lighting up. ¡°They¡¯re teeming with monsters that can¡¯t get out. You go in, give your best, and if it gets too tough, you get out. And those monsters have a chance to drop shards, some even multiple shards, depending on its strength, which means you can improve, even if slowly.¡±


    ¡°But dungeons also require an entry fee,¡± I pointed out. ¡°Which I currently don¡¯t have.¡±


    ¡°Not all dungeons,¡± Gareth corrected. ¡°Some are¡­ open. They don¡¯t require a fee to enter. But they¡¯re usually more dangerous, with stronger monsters.¡±


    ¡°And then there are the instances themselves,¡± Bronwyn added. ¡°Sometimes, you can find shards within instances, scattered around the environment or on the bodies of dead creatures.¡±


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the fastest way to get the shards I need?¡± I asked, cutting to the chase. ¡°I need twenty five of them, at least.¡±


    Gareth considered my question for a moment. ¡°The fastest way would be to tackle a dungeon,¡± he said. ¡°But you said you¡¯re not experienced in combat.¡±


    ¡°But I like to think of myself as a quick learner,¡± I replied, my voice firm.


    ¡°Even so,¡± Gareth said, shaking his head. ¡°Going into a dungeon alone, especially one with giant rats that might attack in big packs, is suicide. You won''t last long.¡±


    ¡°Noted.¡± I said, frustrated. ¡°But there has to be another way,¡±


    ¡°There is,¡± Rhys said while slowly sheathing his daggers, his voice quiet but firm. ¡°And you already took the first step. You come with us.¡±


    I looked at him, surprised.


    ¡°We¡¯re planning on tackling a dungeon in a few days,¡± Gareth explained. ¡°A relatively low-level one. We could always use more help. And you seem to have potential.¡±


    ¡°And in return,¡± Elara added, ¡°we¡¯ll share the loot. Including the spirit shards.¡±


    The offer was tempting. Joining their group would give me access to resources, protection, and valuable experience. And it would allow me to acquire the spirit shards I needed much faster.


    But I still hesitated. Joining their group meant giving up some of my independence. Not that it meant much, no point in having freedom if the only thing you can do with that is fail.


    ¡°What kind of dungeon?¡± I asked, stalling for time.


    ¡°A goblin cave,¡± Gareth replied with a glint in his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be relatively easy, but it¡¯s still a good source of shards.¡±


    ¡°And how many shards are we talking about?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It varies,¡± Gareth said. ¡°But we usually come out with at least twenty or thirty shards each.¡±


    Twenty or thirty shards each. A minimum of one hundred shards. Over fifteen shards if it gets split six ways. Two delves and I would have more than enough to rescue Mark.


    I considered the offer carefully. It was a risk, but it was a risk worth taking. I needed those shards, and I needed to get stronger. And joining this group seemed like the best way to achieve both.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said finally. ¡°I¡¯ll go.¡± I can always come back for the rats and crocs later.


    A smile spread across Gareth¡¯s face. ¡°Welcome to the group, Vincent,¡± he said.


    With the agreement made, a sense of uneasy alliance settled over me. Now that I was officially part of their expedition, I felt entitled to more information. Not anything related to the prior topics. What I needed was to understand the risks we were about to face.


    ¡°So,¡± I began, turning to Gareth. ¡°Tell me about this goblin cave.¡±


    Gareth leaned back against a rock, a thoughtful expression on his face. ¡°It¡¯s a relatively small dungeon,¡± he said. ¡°A network of caves and tunnels about a dozen kilometers from here. The goblins are¡­ well, goblins. Small, green, and generally unpleasant.¡±


    ¡°What do they do?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Mostly raiding and trapping,¡± Elara answered. ¡°They¡¯re not particularly strong individually, but they¡¯re cunning and they rely on numbers.¡±


    My stomach tightened. Raiding and trapping. Neither of those sounded good. Traps meant hidden dangers, unexpected hazards. And raiding meant they were capable of fighting, especially in groups. And if they lived in a dungeon, a confined space, they would almost certainly be fighting in groups as the traps did their job at the same time, most likely.


    ¡°Trapping?¡± I asked, my voice laced with concern. ¡°What kind of traps?¡±


    ¡°All sorts,¡± Finn said, shrugging. ¡°Pit traps, snares, tripwires¡­ anything they can think of to catch prey.¡±


    ¡°And they¡¯re good at it,¡± Bronwyn added grimly. ¡°We heard of groups losing a few good men to goblin traps.¡±


    Hear from who? Other groups? There are bands of survivors playing adventurers? Ok, not asking it yet. Focus on the job.


    My apprehension grew. This ¡°easy¡± dungeon was starting to sound less and less appealing. If the traps alone were dangerous enough to kill experienced adventurers, what chance did I have?


    ¡°And what about their weapons?¡± I asked. ¡°Do they use ranged weapons?¡±


    Gareth nodded. ¡°Some of them do,¡± he said. ¡°Mostly crude bows and slings. But they also use darts and blowguns, sometimes tipped with poison.¡±


    Poison. That was even worse. A single well-placed dart could incapacitate a person, leaving them vulnerable to the goblins¡¯ attacks. If not killing them later on. I was about to ask about antidotes and things like that, but never managed to.


    ¡°They also have a shaman,¡± Rhys added, his voice low. ¡°He¡¯s the one who usually directs the raids and sets up the more elaborate traps.¡±


    A shaman. That implied some form of magic, or ritualistic shenanigans, at least some understanding of rudimentary alchemy, hence poison. It didn¡¯t bode well.


    My mind raced, trying to assess the situation. Small, green, unpleasant, cunning, numerous, trapping, raiding, ranged weapons, poison, a shaman¡­ This didn¡¯t sound easy at all. It sounded incredibly dangerous.


    ¡°What makes this an ¡®easy¡¯ dungeon?¡± I asked, my voice laced with skepticism. ¡°It sounds like there¡¯s a lot that can go wrong.¡±


    Gareth smiled then shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s low-level,¡± he said. ¡°The goblins themselves aren¡¯t particularly strong. And the dungeon isn¡¯t very large. We¡¯ve cleared it before.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve cleared it before,¡± I repeated, my voice flat. ¡°That makes a difference.¡±


    ¡°We have some experience dealing with goblins,¡± Elara said, trying to reassure me. ¡°We know their tactics.¡±


    ¡°Do you have any¡­ abilities that help with these kinds of situations?¡± I asked, carefully phrasing my question. I was trying to determine if they had some hidden advantage, some ¡°gift¡± from the System that made these encounters easier for them.


    They exchanged glances, a brief flicker of hesitation passing between them.


    ¡°We have some¡­ minor enhancements,¡± Gareth said finally. ¡°Nothing too powerful.¡±


    ¡°But no healing or cleansing or purification or anything like that?¡± I asked, cutting to the chase.


    Gareth shook his head. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°We haven¡¯t found anyone with such abilities yet.¡±


    That confirmed my suspicions. They were really considering going into this dungeon, or going back if they already been there, without any dedicated healing. That made the risks even greater. Maybe not for them, but definitely for me.


    A handful of well-placed shots with poisonous projectiles, be it darts or arrows, not to mention throwing spears or javelins, and it¡¯s all over. And keep in mind that such creatures must have them since they are not only cowardly but have a shaman as their leader.


    And they were calling it easy?


    Was I missing something? Or were they simply downplaying the dangers? Or they could deal with the poisonous projectiles? Are they setting me up as cannon fodder?


    I was already starting to have serious doubts about this expedition. Or this group. Maybe both?


    It wasn''t just because it didn¡¯t seem as easy as they were saying. I am quite sure that if they did clear it before they knew they could handle it.


    It¡¯s because of me. It¡¯s because it seems way too fucking dangerous for me.


    I think I am already missing the rats and lizards¡­ I thought with a crooked smile.


    Then I realized. This is all bullshit. I rather deal with the rats. Sure, it will take time and lots of grates to funnel their path and block their advances, but I could certainly poke them to death from behind steel cover and there¡¯s nothing the rodents could do to me. My shield worked, no reason a cage wouldn¡¯t. Traps were still a safe way to deal with all of them.


    Hell, I caught four big ass lizards and left them to die using a trap. What are some oversized rodents compared to that? Wait, the crocs¡­ They should be way better than the goblins as prey, right?


    Fine. You guys forced my hand. Time for the ¡®you don¡¯t recruit me, I recruit you¡¯ master move.


    So, I spilled the beans. I talked about what I truly thought about this whole ¡®goblin¡¯ mess. And even give them an alternative route, my route.


    I expected anger or maybe someone to call me delusional. But, their reactions were¡­ diverse.


    Gareth and Bronwyn were doing a joint act. Both were slack jawed with shoulders slumped down, like they came home only to see their house on fire. The most normal reaction among them, one that I considered a possibility, if a little bit exaggerated.


    Finn was laughing out loud while slapping his thighs. Truly laughing, not smiling. Quite rude.


    Rhys was doing his best to hold his laugh, and failing. Looking away with a hand over his face while still glancing at me between his fingers and sending me a thumbs up. Also rather rude, but equally confusing, to say the least.


    But Elare took the crown.


    Elara was frozen in a loop with her left hand over her mouth and holding her staff with even whiter knuckles. She just kept looking at all of us, one at a time, over and over, and nodding while doing so. Very weird. I think she sort of broke.


    I sighed and looked up, turned around and started to walk to the instance. My instance, now.


    That¡¯s when the five all pretty much screamed at the same time for me to wait. A very creepy coordinated act. I am sort of afraid to turn around now.

 Chapter 012

    So, about me spelling the beans, talking then what I really thought about their ¡®goblin hunting¡¯ plan.


    It sort of went like this.


    I considered my options and concluded they were either stupid or insane. So, I need to get back to my instance, back to work. Trapping rats, then crocs, then people, maybe.


    I smiled faintly. Shook my head. Tilted backwards using my hands to support my body while I looked at the weird sky. The whole thoughtful resolution act. I''ve done it before. It¡¯s effective.


    ¡°Nah. Sorry, guys. I think this might be where we part ways. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m going after goblins in their turf. I have my own hunting grounds right here.¡± I said while pointing towards the instance.


    ¡°Sure, I screwed up while trying to speed things up and, yes, that was quite stupid, but it won¡¯t happen again. The rats got nothing on me if I took my time. Which I will.¡± I said nonchalantly.


    ¡°There¡¯s just no need to face a setting with so many unknown variables. Too many threats.¡± I said, making a scowl while waving a hand at them, to make sure they understand I am not just talking about me.


    Then I lowered my instance while rubbing my forehead, the whole ¡®deep in thought and considering things¡¯ vibe. Hunching over, placing my elbows on my knees and slowly interlacing my fingers, imagining a conference room where everything is under my control.


    ¡°Ok. Since you guys did helped me, let me give you two advices: the first is wise the fuck up, which is self explanatory, and the second is join me before you regret it.¡± A little forceful, sure, I had to show how confident I am, can¡¯t fake that.


    I could see the surprise on most faces. Gareth was expressionless but his eyes widened for half a second there. I saw it. Finn was wide eyed, but smiling, I think the guy is just happy he won¡¯t have to watch over me, whatever.


    Elara held her hand over her mouth and¡­ nodded? Whatever. Bronwyn just shook her head while giving that scoffing smile, as if calling me delusional, understandable. Rhys, well, he took a look at Elara, then she nodded at him, then he frowned before looking back at me, then scratched his head as if he didn¡¯t hear me properly, I am starting to doubt his capabilities as an effective combatant.


    Well, I did what I needed to do. Now, trying to make things clear. Very clear. I further elaborated on my next steps to make sure they are aware of the mess we are all in and how to advance.


    ¡°I got a dungeon right here. It might not be an easy one for me to solo as of now. But it¡¯s predictable, and that makes it easy with enough preparation. I am not in a hurry. Not anymore. It¡¯s been ten days, not three months. I got time. Even more so while in there.¡± I said looking at the instance. Already turning towards my hunting grounds.


    ¡°After I¡¯m done with the rats I will go after the crocs. I will keep three of them alive, obviously calling them Larry, Curly and Moe, and keep them as pets. To keep the instance going.¡± I said while taking my first steps back towards the instance.


    ¡°Once I get rid of everything that could be a problem, I will plan for the future, using the shards to get all sorts of information necessary for that. Perhaps even getting one of those ¡®gifts¡¯ in the meantime, not that I need one to deal with rats or crocs, but it might be convenient to speed things up.¡± I said nonchalantly while shrugging, already halfway to the instance.


    ¡°Perhaps the next time you come here there will be no instance, but a survivor¡¯s colony. I am quite sure I can pull it off. Alone, if needed. I will definitely need people to cook, brew and clean stuff for me while I focus on more important matters. Like, I don¡¯t know, conquering and managing my rightful part of this new world.¡± I said while smiling and finally turning back to look at them.


    And there they were. All those weird reactions. So, I turned my back to them and made my way to the instance. My instance.


    Then came the cacophony of voices telling me to wait. So I did. But I didn''t turn back. I must confess that I was a little afraid of what I might see.


    I like to think I am quite good at reading people and interpreting situations, but these people, well, I suppose my meager knowledge on human nature might no longer work.


    Are they going to kill me now? Are they going to kneel down and swear eternal allegiance towards me and my cause? I just can¡¯t tell, not anymore.


    So, I stood there. Waiting them to say their piece. And ready to run for my life if needed be.


    ¡°Vincent, we will go with you.¡± Gareth said directly.


    ¡°You bet your ass we will, damn it, that was great.¡± Finn said while still laughing.


    I was a little confused, to say the least. So, I turned around while frowning.


    Gareth was just smiling while gesturing to me to come back. Not happening, you are all crazy.


    Finn was still smiling while rubbing his eyes. Apparently he laughed so hard he cried. So rude.


    Elara was talking with Rhys and Bronwyn, not loud enough for me to hear, while she was being given some water, perhaps to recover from her partial seizure or whatever that was.


    Bronwyn gave Elara the water while frowning and looking at me from time to time. I am quite sure they were talking about me.


    Rhys was rubbing Elara¡¯s back while still gazing at me. A smile on his face. Creepy.


    Elara was just staring at me, a fixed stare, with hints of¡­ admiration? Ok, extra creepy.


    My thought process was interrupted by the first sentence that made sense.


    ¡°I am sure you are not understanding what is happening, but we are going to explain, alright?¡±, said Gareth while still smiling. ¡°But first, let me just say this: there¡¯s no goblin cave, okay? It was a test.¡±


    I would have frowned, but I was already doing it, so I just tilted my head and brought the frown a level higher, the universal body language for ¡°what the fuck are you talking about¡±.


    Gareth sighed and put his hands on his hips.


    ¡°There¡¯s no goblin cave. There never was. We discussed this earlier. We, humans, are the only ones with some intellect in this mess, there are no goblins at all. Not here, anyway.¡± Finn said.


    ¡°We sort of wanted to see what would you do if you were presented with the chances for advancing at a faster pace while facing unknown dangers.¡± Rhys said, in a very matter-of-factly manner. ¡°The goal was seeing if you would cower or not. But we weren¡¯t expecting, well¡­ that.¡± Rhys said while waving his hand all over me.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I would have frowned more if I could.


    Surprisingly, Elara was the one who said the first thing that actually helped me understand some of their reactions.


    ¡°I can detect deception. Not lies. But I can tell if people believe what they are saying or if they are trying to tell things they know to be lies. You¡­ are honest¡­ and kind of scary.¡±


    So, they knew I was wounded when I said I was fine, got it. And they can also tell that everything I said so far is mostly things I do believe in, fine. That sort of makes sense, sort of.


    ¡°Shall we start from the beginning?¡± Finn said while smiling and going back to the campfire. ¡°This will be fun¡±.


    Gareth beckoned me to follow. So I did. Still finding some things weird, but most of it made sense now that such things can be taken into consideration. They, most likely, were reacting to things that I had no idea they knew. Not really fair, but whatever.


    We all sat back in the campfire. But before any of them could start I lifted my hand and looked straight at Elara.


    ¡°You can tell if I am bullshitting, right?¡±, I asked.


    The girl nodded, blushing a little.


    ¡°Then can you please tell you fine people that I know, for a fact, that we should leave this talk while inside there?¡± I said while pointing to the instance. ¡°Because it would be ten times faster. I already lost enough time as it is.¡±


    The girl looked at the others and nodded.


    ¡°Fine¡±, Gareth said. ¡°Let¡¯s go people, gather your things. We have to outrun some big lizards. Keep the formation tight and follow Vincent¡¯s lead.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t think we will.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± said Gareth while frowning slightly.


    ¡°Come on, Vincent. We kind of like you already.¡± Said Finn, which surprised me a little. ¡°You are like a harmless bunny hiding a bloody knife behind his back, that¡¯s hilarious and awesome.¡±


    I frowned at that.


    ¡°Finn.¡± Said Rhys while glaring at Finn. ¡°Not helping.¡±


    ¡°Sorry¡±. Fin said while scratching his head. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s only me, okay?¡±


    ¡°Certainly only you.¡± Scoffed Bronwyn. ¡°No one else would find a bunny hiding a bloody knife behind his back amusing.¡±


    Elara lifted her hand and was about to say something, but Bronwyn shut her up with a glare. Elara sort of deflated and put her hand down.


    ¡°So, you are ditching us now?¡± Said Rhys. ¡°Not fond of being called on your bluff or what?¡±


    Gareth glared at Rhys, certainly not appreciating the bluntness.


    ¡°No¡±, I said nonchalantly. ¡°Couldn¡¯t care less about that.¡±


    Elara nodded.


    ¡°What I mean was, no, I don¡¯t think we will have to run from the gators if you follow my lead.¡±, I said while crossing my arms. ¡°I have a way in. One that they can¡¯t follow.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Asked Bronwyn.


    ¡°Yep.¡± I said while nodding. ¡°It might have some rats on the way, but I think you prefer big rats over five-meter-long velocicroc freaks, right?¡± I smirked.


    Elara looked at them and nodded.


    ¡°That settles it.¡± Gareth announced loudly. ¡°Let¡¯s go, people. Vincent, you lead the way.¡±


    I nodded. And two minutes later we were on our way.


    There were no rats to fight. Which was rather anticlimactic.


    The entrance was just a couple dozen feet away from the border, no gator around. The group was a little surprised about it. Some of them glared at Finn, who smiled and said something like ¡°Come on, no way I could have seen that, it was covered in vines¡­¡±


    We ventured down the tunnel. Gareth and Bronwyn with a tad more difficulty. I had to put some effort to take back my makeshift shield turned makeshift barrier, but I was glad to recover it.


    The notification about the dungeon came up as soon as we hit the hole leading to the chamber where I fought the three rats.


    *Dungeon Detected: The Rat Warrens. Level: 1. Recommended Party Size: 1-3. A dungeon filled with giant rats.*


    Finn whistled and said something like ¡°It doesn¡¯t get easier than that.¡± And got elbowed by Bronwyn who was a little frustrated by the archer¡¯s like of tact.


    Finn scratched his head and looked at me. ¡°Sorry, Vincent, I can talk like this right now, but this is by no means easy when you are not ready for it.¡±


    I nodded and smirked. ¡°Don¡¯t I know it?¡±


    Finn just smiled. So did the others. I think they are somewhat happy that I am not going to cry in a corner due to being so absurdly weak. So am I.


    Half an hour later and we were walking the sewers towards my disgusting penthouse.


    ¡°We are fine down here. Nothing to worry about. You might as well start talking.¡± I said.


    ¡°Well, fine. Who wants to start?¡± Asked Gareth.


    ¡°We will do this properly, let¡¯s start from the beginning.¡± Said Finn, a tad more excited than I would consider normal. It sure sounded like lots of fun for him.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Gareth said. ¡°You tell him, we interject if you miss something.¡±


    ¡°Good. Good.¡± Said Finn. ¡°Alright, Vincent. Listen closely. I tell you, if we ever meet a bard I will one hundred percent commission a song about this. It¡¯s priceless.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Can you just start already?¡± I am quite sure the man will do as he said. Prick.


    ¡°So, we found this instance. Very big. The bigger one we found, by far. We had to stop and try to see what had happened. The system told us that it had undergone some sort of violent displacement and most people perished due to it. Then they were assaulted by crocodilian stuff, the big ass lizards, as soon as the place stopped shaking. Big mess. Almost ten thousand people are trapped here, you know? That¡¯s a big instance for us. At least for us.¡± Finn said.


    ¡°I mean, I know that there should be some gigantic ones. Can you imagine? A big city with millions of people turning into a freaking instance the size of a country? Dude, that¡¯s just¡­¡± Finn was saying as he was interrupted.


    ¡°Blabbering.¡± Said Rhys.


    Finn sighed and took a breath. ¡°Naturally, I query the shit out of the system to know everything about this place. Turns out the only hostile thing in here were the mini spinos. And the system said they were both ambushers and used pack tactics, which already made them hard to deal with, but then we found out the damn things are of the fourth level. That¡¯s extra nasty.¡±


    Again with the level thingy. No idea what that means yet. It¡¯s not like I have a level or anything. I will ask them later.


    Finn made a pause. ¡°Vincent, not even we can deal with a pack of those things. One or two? Sure, if we have time to prepare and all of us together in an advantageous terrain. More than three? We are dead, for sure. So, these fine gents here were against me probing for survivors, because, let¡¯s face it, this is a dead zone, a starting point so bad that they were sure no one would make it. And it did make sense. Except¡­¡±


    Finn made a dramatic pause.


    ¡°Except you found out that there was still one person active within the instance.¡± I said while scoffing.


    ¡°Bingo!¡± Loudly said Finn. ¡°There was still one guy here. Surviving. Amidst a bunch of creatures we were incapable of facing. Probably from the very start. So, the obvious conclusion was that the guy must be a monster. A very powerful person. And while we were discussing how awesome it would be to have such a guy as a member of our group, you waltzed out of the instance.¡±


    Finn was smiling from ear to ear. ¡°See? We were imagining the ultimate warrior and then you came out. We were sure you were hiding some serious abilities beneath the calm surface, so we did our best to prepare¡­ until I query the system about you, and it did answer.¡± Finn started laughing.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t get the joke.¡± I said.


    ¡°Since you weren¡¯t exactly warrior material we thought you were hiding your awesome powers, that you got one hell of a gift. But the system doesn¡¯t let you query about people who have gifts. They are considered anointed or something like that. You can¡¯t ask for information about them. But I did it anyway, and I succeeded.¡± Finn said proudly.


    ¡°Which means you found out that I had no gift. Fine.¡± I said.


    ¡°Man, can you see how scary that was? You were an ordinary guy¡­¡± Finn starts saying.


    ¡°Still am, Finn.¡± I said while smirking.


    ¡°Yeah. Exactly.¡± Finn said while expecting me to come to some weird conclusion. ¡°Man, you are like the bunny who lived amidst the tigers. That¡¯s one freaking scary bunny.¡±


    Surpsiling Elare intervened. ¡°Agreed. Scary from beginning to end. Still scary.¡± She said while looking at me while almost hiding behind Bronwyn.


    Then, in another surprise, Bronwyn who seemed quite the serious lady, patted Elara¡¯s back and, with a maternal tone, said ¡°There, there. I will make sure the scary bunny gets a club to the head if he turns too naughty ok?¡±


    I snorted.


    Bronwyn could no longer hold it in and started laughing. Infectiously. Not even Rhys could hold his laugh this time. Finn, as always, didn¡¯t even bother resisting. Gareth shook his head in disapproval, but he was also laughing. Elara pouted until she couldn¡¯t help but laugh as well.


    And these were the people I thought would kill me?

 Chapter 013

    I can understand that they find me interesting, not to say amusing, but that means little when it comes to joining forces and acting as a group. These people know next to nothing about me.


    ¡°I brought you to this dungeon, which seems to be an easy one. I am showing a way to navigate this place without having to deal with the crocs. This is pretty much my current value.¡± I said, while slowly leading them through the sewers.


    Gareth was the first to stop smiling, sensing the shift in my tone.


    ¡°So, you know I have survived here for quite a while. You know I meant what I said. And you know I am not just the ¡®run and hide while crying in despair¡¯ kind of guy. Still, that doesn¡¯t really tell me why you are not telling me to fuck off or killing me after getting what I had to offer.¡± I said in a somber tone to make a point, I have no need to tell them about my ways to deal with the crocs after all.


    Then they all stopped smiling. Elara frowned. I am sure he picked up some deception while I spoke, I am not telling them everything after all, and I am indeed doing so on purpose. But she said nothing.


    ¡°My point is¡­ why invite me, or tag along when you already got this? I got my ass kicked by rats. I have no gift and I am in a pinch when it comes to getting shards. Care to explain?¡± I said.


    ¡°The reason is twofold.¡± Gareth said.


    ¡°More like fivefold.¡± Rhys said.


    ¡°Wait, this is out of order, let¡¯s go back to where we stopped, we didn¡¯t even finish with the first impressions of all of us and¡­¡±


    ¡°Anyway¡­¡± Gareth spoke a little louder while glaring at Finn, who sighed and lowered his head, and Rhys, who shrugged.


    ¡°People, most people, are sort of broken.¡± Gareth sighed. ¡°From what we have seen so far, there are four kinds of people around¡­¡±


    ¡°The whiners, the eager, the hopeful and the delusional.¡± Finn quickly interjected.


    Gareth looked at him with a glance, Finn shut up and scratched his head.


    ¡°There are people who can¡¯t break free from the past, from what they have and lost. They are broken and the only people who can fix them are themselves.¡± Said Rhys with clear disgust on his face. ¡°We can¡¯t wait for them. They are just burdens. Better left as crystal statues.¡±


    ¡°There are those who see this as some sort of game. A chance to rise to power. A new life, much more stimulating than before. They throw themselves at every chance to grow, some even ignoring obviously deadly scenarios.¡± Bronwyn said. ¡°We can¡¯t join them. They love it here. We don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Then, there are some people that are not clinging to the past, but looking forward, trying to make the best with what we got and leave this nightmare.¡± Elara said, almost murmuring. ¡°The ones who don¡¯t like how things are, but accept this new reality, trying to make it better. Like us.¡±


    ¡°And, as expected, there are the crazy bunch. People who think this is some sort of ¡®end of days due to god¡¯s wrath¡¯ and all that. Or the people who think they are paying for their sins. Or people that are saying the system is the devil himself. Or¡­ well¡­ there¡¯s a bunch of them.¡± Finn sighed. ¡°It¡¯s like they have the innate skill to trick themselves into believing all sorts of stuff for no rime or reason. And these are even more dangerous than the eager ones. They are the kind of people who light torches and set others on fire while giving themselves some sort of moral high ground or even sacred duty.¡±


    Gareth glared at all of them in succession. As if they were stealing his limelight.


    ¡°As I was saying¡­¡± Gareth said a little louder once again. The others smiled. And he continued after a deep breath. ¡°You are between type two and type three from what we had seen. Clearly not type one and nothing led us to believe your confidence comes from something that could land you as a type four. So far, at least.¡±


    I scoffed. They are sort of right. But also sort of wrong. People can¡¯t be just put into boxes like that, I got some type one and some type four or me as well. I do miss and want back the confort I got before this mess, I just won¡¯t expect to achieve it by whining about it. And I do think this system is not just some tool to oversee this integration, although I can¡¯t be sure as of now.


    I can understand how they see the type two in me. I do want more. Much more. But I am not going to risk my life to achieve it if I can take it easy. That¡¯s why they also put me in type three, not because I am not type two, but because I don¡¯t act like one, which led them to believe I am one of the hopeful.


    Should I tell them I have no hope at all that this shit will improve? That will get much, much worse as people slowly reveal their true nature while gaining powers? Tell them that the reason I am thinking of making a path for people to follow is because that¡¯s the best way to ensure my safety while gaining power to protect myself from the greedy, the envious and the crazy?


    ¡°In a sense, you are just like us, people who want things to improve, a type three, but are forced to adapt to this new reality and do their best to thread the path of a type two.¡± Gareth said while smiling and circling his hand to indicate they are in agreement about this. ¡°We are not going to whine as the ones who are stronger keep on improving, because they will eventually come to take what we have if they wish to do so. And we aren¡¯t delusional in believing that doing nothing and cursing all day long or looking for imaginary enemies will solve anything. We know what we must do. And we will try.¡±


    Well, so at least they know that being weak is a sin itself now. That¡¯s reassuring.


    ¡°Still didn¡¯t answer my question. I can see how you can find me¡­ agreeable. But that doesn¡¯t make me someone¡­ valuable. Does it?¡± I asked. I understood how we might share some, or maybe many, goals. But, that¡¯s not enough. Not in this place.


    ¡°I said the reason was twofold. That was the first part.¡± Gareth smiled. ¡°Elara?¡±


    Elara cleared her throat and I could feel her eyes burning my back as I walked.


    ¡°You said you can take care of the rats. We can do that easily. But that¡¯s now, as a group and with gifts. We can¡¯t do that alone and without gifts. You know you can. You are sure of it.¡± Elara said, then he started speaking a little louder. ¡°And you are also sure you can handle the¡­ spinos? crocs? The big bad lizards. Also alone. Also without gifts. And I have no choice but to believe you.¡±


    I am quite sure the girl was pouting. As if it was my fault that she felt betrayed by her own gift that told her I am not spewing bullshit to make a point.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Just to make it clear, Vincent.¡± Finn said. ¡°We can¡¯t handle those, alright? Not without risking losing the little we got and ending up as crystal statues.¡±


    ¡°When we started we were lucky enough to start in a much more ¡®manageable¡¯ instance. This one is a nightmare compared to that.¡± Rhys said while sighing. ¡°And this told us that you were good when it comes to surviving. We saw potential. We already wanted to help you, because you would help us in return. But that was before your little speech.¡±


    ¡°That was a shitshow.¡± Bronwyn smiled. ¡°With each sentence things got increasingly outrageous and Elara could do nothing but signal us that you were being honest. That¡¯s when we realized we might have just found gold while looking for copper.¡±


    It was my turn to look back at them and frown.


    ¡°You have potential, Vincent. We knew it the moment you walked out of the instance and met us. It was quite easy to see you weren¡¯t broken. That was already enough reason.¡± Gareth said. ¡°When we confirmed you weren¡¯t delusional or drunk on the quest for power, it was pretty much a given that we would try to convince you to tag along.¡±


    ¡°But you¡­ man, you got some plans.¡± Finn smiled while giving me a thumbs up. ¡°Not like us, we are humble people¡±, he said while faking humility, ¡°people who are happy to simply improve and perhaps rescue some people in the hopes they do it as well¡±, he lift right hand while holding his chest with the left, like the theatrical jerk he is, ¡°and spread the will to help others.¡±


    Then Finn quickly turned his gaze at me and dropped his voice and octave lower. ¡°But you, the scary bunny, the scariest bunny¡­¡±, ok, the man clearly has issues, and Elara blushed when he mentioned it, ¡°will kill your way through a nightmarish instance to make your own kingdom.¡±


    ¡°Clown.¡± Said Gareth.


    ¡°Six out of ten. Decent.¡± Saig Bronwyn.


    ¡°He said colony, but kingdom has a nice ring to it.¡± Said Rhys.


    ¡°Can we please stop with the bunny talk?¡± Elara murmured.


    Ok, they concluded I am not crazy and have survived here so they wanted to help me so I would, in return, help them since our interest would be aligned for quite a while. Good. Not some sort of weird friendship trip or companionship or anything like that. It makes sense. Agreeable.


    Then, they realized I can do more because they knew that I meant what I said and now they want to¡­ what? Help me so we can farm lots of shards from the crocs?


    ¡°So, Vincent. We will help you to get your gift, help rescue whoever you need to rescue here and see if we can be of aid when making the foundations for a functional colony for survivors.¡± Gareth said with a serious face. ¡°Because you are sure you can do it. We know that. And we want that as well. We want to know how to do it. So we can do it as well. And even teach others. Eventually.¡±


    Gareth¡¯s face turned a little somber. Even a little sad. Did he find it hard to say such things? I frowned a little. But frowned even more and tilted my head when I looked at the others. They weren¡¯t looking much better. What the hell is going on?


    It¡¯s perfectly understandable. They want to see how I, someone weaker than any of them and somehow sure about pulling it off, will make it happen so they can also make it happen somewhere else. Well, creating stable colonies does help much more than rescuing potentially unstable survivors. If you do it properly, that is.


    Should I tell them if they just put a bunch of weaklings together all they will make is a gigantic ¡®all you can eat¡¯ weakling buffet? Nah, if they stick with me they will get it.


    In short, they are not really after me, they are after my knowledge. Is that why they look like they ate a spoonful of shit? Do they think that I would feel hurt or something? People, I can respect that. And, more importantly, I can work with that.


    So, I did my best to smile at them. Which surprisingly worked quite fast. All it took was for them to look at me then look at Elare, who was smiling and nodded at them. Their faces brightened and even their postures seem to improve. Gullible much?


    ¡°So, can we go back to the first impressions now?¡± Finn asked tentatively.


    ¡°Yes, Finn, carry on. Why does this amuse you so much, anyway?¡± Bronwyn asked.


    ¡°Because I was looking at everyone while it was happening in real time, it was awesome. I could see all of you flinching, frowning, smiling, confused, nodding, smiling again¡­ and Vincent without a clue about what the hell was going on.¡± Finn said while smiling.


    No one found it funny. So Finn cleared his throat and continued.


    ¡°So, where was I? Yes. First impressions.¡± Finn clapped his hand. Clearly excited. ¡°So, Vincent came out and I knew for a fact he was an ordinary person. But how could we possibly tell that you weren¡¯t some secret martial artist or something like that?¡±


    After a dramatic pause, Finn continues. ¡°That¡¯s because we all have some gifts to handle this kind of thing.¡± Finn took a couple steps to stand by my side. ¡°I, for example, can sense threats. I can sort of feel things like killing intent and such. I can even tell when someone is about to attack, which lets me act as a defensive archer, aiming for potential threats first. I am the ¡®attack is the best defense¡¯ kind of guy. Quite cool, right?¡±


    I just lifted my eyebrows. Finn¡¯s smile got a little crooked.


    ¡°I got a flaw detection ability, I can see the places where your defense is lacking, where I can hit you better with this.¡± Gareth said while patting his big ass sword.


    ¡°And in your eyes I was weak all over.¡± I said.


    ¡°Something like that.¡± Gareth said while smiling.


    ¡°Guess what? Mine didn¡¯t light up at all. Not a single spec of warning. It was like I was facing a bunny when I looked at you.¡± Finn was barely holding his laugh in.


    ¡°And probably still is.¡± I said while sighing.


    ¡°Sure is.¡± Finn nodded while smiling, but a little worry in his eyes.


    ¡°And that''s scary.¡± Rhys said. ¡°Because you¡­¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Flinn intervened. ¡°No, no, no. We are doing this in order. Back to the first impressions.¡±


    ¡°As I said, I can see deception.¡± Elara said softly. ¡°I knew that you were not fine when you said that you were fine.¡±


    Bronwyn was about to say her piece when I stopped and turned towards them. I looked at Elara and smiled. The girl flinched. Am I really scary for her?


    ¡°So, does your ability work when questions are asked or it¡¯s pretty much all the time?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s detection, not sensing, so I need to have it active, but there¡¯s no need to ask questions.¡± Elara answered.


    ¡°So, do you have it active right now?¡± I asked while smirking.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± She said as if unsure of it herself.


    ¡°Good. There¡¯s something I wanted to tell you guys since we met but I had no idea that Elara could vouch for me.¡± I smiled brightly.


    They look at each other. Finn apparently knew something rather interesting was coming up and did as expected and said ¡°Do it. If you need Elara to confirm it for us, that means it must be awesome.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded and made a serious face.


    ¡°I have a special strategy in this place. A combination of preparation and tactical positioning that lets me handle things that should be quite dangerous with little to no actual fighting or danger.¡± I said in a somber voice. ¡°I tested it. I succeeded on the first try and all others that followed. It works and it will keep working for us here. We will conquer this place because no rats nor crocs can handle me and my technique. And I will tell you the final step to make it all come together. So you can do it as well.¡±


    Elara nodded nervously. Finn¡¯s eyes were sparkling. Rhys was expressionless, but I could see his firm grip on his dagger, he was also excited. Gareth just nodded to me, also serious.


    Surprisingly, Bronwyn was the only one who seemed to realize that I was playing them. She smirked while shaking her head. But didn¡¯t intervene. She even stepped back so the others couldn¡¯t see her.


    ¡°My final move, to nullify danger itself, it¡¯s to¡­¡± I made a dramatic pause, Finn wasn¡¯t the only one who could pull this move. They were all staring. Except Bronwyn who had put a hand to her face and was watching from between her fingers while smiling.


    Then, as seriously as possible, I looked at my shaking hands, forcefully set as if I were ready to claw or grasp the world itself, before returning my gaze at them, ignoring Bronwyn. And spoke.


    ¡°... bleed all over the place and scream alone at a dark corner.¡±

 Chapter 014

    I have to give it to Bronwyn, she didn¡¯t start laughing to break the mood. That was a very serious talk after all. I was quite serious. Seriously bullshiting them while using Elara¡¯s gift to my advantage.


    It worked like a charm.


    After a moment of confusion followed by a few moments of laughter they had no choice but to see that, despite being incredibly useful, those aware of Elara¡¯s gift could certainly use it in their favor. True, there would be no deception, but manipulating the information is still possible.


    Soon, they returned to the main topic as I slowly led them to the sewer¡¯s section where I established my tiny chamber. Bronwyn and Rhys said their part.


    ¡°I got an ability that detects danger.¡± Bronwyn said. ¡°Completely different from Finn. I can see your potential to do harm to each of us, it took me quite a while to get used to it. I knew that even if you decided to strike with that axe of yours with full force the only one you would be able to hurt, and I am talking about a moderate wound even if you managed to get the neck, was Elara. If you were able to catch both her and me by surprise, that is.¡±


    ¡°I also have a flaw detection ability. Related to perception, not defense. I can see if you are aware or not about the possibility of being struck by me. Helps with ambushes and such.¡± Rhys said. ¡°You were fully aware of that possibility the moment you stepped out. As ready as you could be. Rather admirable for someone finding a group of people around a campfire after escaping an instance such as this one. I could tell you wasn¡¯t expecting it and was unsure if it was good or bad. Smart.¡±


    Ok, at this point I could already tell that Rhys will have no problem with the fact I might be a little more cautious than your regular person. Nice.


    ¡°So, we talked using signs.¡± Said Flinn. ¡°And we reached the same conclusion. We had no idea how that happened. How you survived. How you escaped. And when I told them you didn¡¯t even have a gift, they had to try for themselves, to confirm I was not pulling their leg. So little trust. Tsc.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it was rather unbelievable.¡± Gareth said. ¡°But it was also undeniable. We immediately decided we wanted to hear your story. But anyone could also see you were very cautious. Rhy made sure we all knew that you were not a naive guy in need of help.¡±


    ¡°So confusing.¡± Finn said while smiling. ¡°I kept glaring at you and trying anything I could to make the system spill more information about you. Didn¡¯t get shit. Nothing. The more the system told me the more I got confused. You are out of shape, work at a desk job, were thrown into a survival situation such as this shitshow of an instance¡­ and yet¡­ you came out as confident beyond belief.¡±


    ¡°I saw you tensing up again when we were discussing you. Then you got fully ready when we were approaching you to ask if you wanted to give this group thing a try.¡± Rhys said. ¡°Not gonna lie. I knew you could do nothing to us but I still was ready to pull a dagger.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? What was that about?¡± Finn asked.


    ¡°Tell you later. Maybe. Can you finish it already? We will be arriving soon.¡± I said.


    ¡°Things were fine until night fell. We could see you got the drive, the tenacity, to reach for more, just like us. You had the potential, that much was clear. But you didn¡¯t trust us.¡± Gareth said. ¡°But you decided to tell us about your leg, which was a plus.¡±


    ¡°A good sign, but not enough.¡± Rhys said. ¡°We need to know if you weren¡¯t one of those reckless fools that would do anything to get power and such.¡±


    ¡°Hence the goblin dungeon proposition.¡± I said.


    ¡°Precisely.¡± Bronwyn said. ¡°We gave you a hint we would handle it, that we had already done it, but we made sure to tell you about the possible danger in this fictitious dungeon.¡±


    ¡°You got me rather worried there for a moment.¡± Gareth said. ¡°I mean, you talked about a dungeon filled with rats, which are much easier to tackle than goblins, and you still didn¡¯t say a thing. I could see you found it risky and all that, but you didn¡¯t take a stand. You know?¡±


    I scoffed. No, I was just thinking of ditching you all, also I wasn¡¯t sure if you would kill me if I told you everything about that, ok?


    ¡°Obviously, it turns out you were against it.¡± Rhys said while smiling. ¡°Your little speech at the end made that quite clear.¡±


    ¡°That was awesome.¡± Finn said while laughing. ¡°And you know what was the most impressive part? Elara. She was freaking out. It¡¯s hard to make her that flustered about¡­ well, pretty much anything.¡±


    Somehow I don¡¯t think that¡¯s true. The girl was nothing but flustered from the moment I met her.


    ¡°It was scary, alright?¡± Elara said while pouting. ¡°It¡¯s like you said Finn. The guy might as well be a rabbit when it comes to power and threat and all that, but then everything changed. I knew he was serious and that he knew he could pull off everything he said. No deception at all.¡±


    ¡°I will destroy the rat dungeon.¡± Bronwyn said while lifting one of her fists.


    ¡°I will deal with the spinos, but keep three as pets. I shall call them Larry, Curly and Moe.¡± Finn said while also lifting one of his fists. Then he winked at me. ¡°My favorite part, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s not forget about doing all that without needing anyone else, not even a gift.¡± Rhys murmured.


    Both Bronwyn and Flinn look at him with deadpan faces. The man didn¡¯t lift his fist as they did.


    ¡°And making a colony of survivors just so he can have someone to cook, clean and brew for him.¡± Gareth smirked.


    ¡°Yeah, that and the whole ¡®ruling over my rightful part of this world¡¯ business.¡± Elara said.


    I confess I was about to blush when Bronwyn and Finn were doing their antics. But thankfully Rhys brought some seriousness back into the conversation.


    ¡°Finished?¡± I said.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Finn said. Satisfied. ¡°It was awesome. Such a twist.¡±


    ¡°Regardless of Finn¡¯s predilection for theatrics,¡± Gareth said ¡°we know you were serious and that you really believe you can pull this off. So, we only got a simple question. And you do know what that question is, right?¡±


    Obviously. You want to know how. I wonder if you will be inspired or disappointed.


    Vincent nodded. ¡°I will show you.¡±


    It turned out better than I hoped. I didn¡¯t get captured or killed. My wound is sort of dealt with. I got people to help me deal with the rat dungeon and most likely get some shards. Not to mention there¡¯s an archer. Which means there¡¯s no point in struggling against rodents if they are up for something a little bit bigger for us to hunt. Can I skip the rating phase? Straight to crocs?


    ¡°And since you mentioned it, there¡¯s something I would like you to help me with,¡± I began, drawing their attention back to me. ¡°Mostly you, Finn, I think.¡±


    Finn raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I confirmed. ¡°Ranged attacks are sort of required for it to work.¡±


    ¡°No need to worry, Vincent. We have dealt with rats before.¡± Gareth said. ¡°You just keep close to Bronwyn, like Elara does, and we will be fine.¡±


    ¡°So, you wonder how I am confident in conquering this place, but don¡¯t want to listen?¡± I asked with a raised eyebrow.


    Gareth scratched his head. ¡°You are right, sorry.¡±


    As expected, Gareth doesn¡¯t seem sorry at all. I am pretty sure he will stick to his methods whenever things turn dangerous. Which means I can¡¯t trust him at all to follow my strategies. Are the others also like him? I better find out, the sooner the better. Disappointing.


    I did my best not to dwell on this potentially alliance severing detail and entered the largest chamber before the croc trap. I noticed that there were no more grunts or hisses. Did they go quiet or had they somehow escaped?


    ¡°Stay here. I have to check something. Two minutes tops.¡± I said before making my way through a narrow aperture leading to my former sleeping chamber.


    ¡°Vincent, wait, can we¡­¡± Gareth was starting to talk, but I cut him off.


    ¡°One minute. Just wait.¡± I had no time, not now, I sort of needed my pitfall trap to be working properly to speed things up.


    Two small apertures, one corridor and some crawling later and I could see the chamber. The crocs were still there. Sleeping? Slumbering? I don¡¯t care.


    I just hope Finn could turn them into pincushions and that they drop lots of shards. That¡¯s what I care about. Because they certainly are worth more shards than rats, but are they worth more when the cost to take them down is considered? No point in hunting one of them for now if you can hunt dozens of rats in the meantime and get way more shards that way. We will see.


    On my way back I grabbed half a dozen bottles of water and a handful of chip packs and protein bars. I might not have much to share, but I always made a point of being a proper host.


    They were happy to see the shitty food. Apparently weeks traveling in and out of instances and surviving in the forest outside gets you craving for this sort of thing. To each its own.


    ¡°Finn. If you were to handle one of those gators. How would you do it?¡± I asked Finn directly while he was on his third granola bar. I confess I believed him to be more of a potato chips kind of guy.


    ¡°With a lot of luck, I assume.¡± Finn sighed. ¡°They are almost armored from our perspective. And they are not stupid. If I land a few good shots they will be gone. If I am high up where they can¡¯t reach, they won¡¯t even come close. So, there¡¯s not really a way to hunt them. Not unless¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right, Vincent.¡± Gareth interrupted. ¡°We sure can deal with the rats and get us some shards, then we can improve and eventually tackle the gators, like you said we can¡­¡±


    I stopped Gareth mid sentence by lifting my hand. That¡¯s the second time, Gareth. Well, I am going to keep telling you to shut up if you keep interrupting.


    I gesture towards Finn to continue. Finn looked at Gareth as if asking for permission. So, Finn is out as well. He will just follow Gareth¡¯s lead if danger presents itself.


    Gareth subtly nodded and Finn continued. ¡°Not unless one of those things is already harmed, slow enough for me to keep shooting arrows at it without giving it a chance to escape and recover.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I said. ¡°But wouldn¡¯t that be much worse than hunting rats? I mean, you can kill half a dozen rats in one minute, right? How long would you take to kill one of those big lizards?¡±


    Finn scratched his chin. ¡°Well, yes and no. Rats come at you in droves and you can¡¯t really be sure you won¡¯t get scratched or bitten. I would take a wounded gator anytime. Sure, it would take longer, but you only get one shard for every two or three rats you take down while a single croc can give you between six and ten shards by itself. With everyone? I would go for rats. Alone? Definitely gators.¡±


    I nodded while taking a sip of water. ¡°Do you think the others can handle the rats without you?¡±


    ¡°Vincent, we are right here?¡± Rhys said while admiring a chocolate bar.


    I shrugged and turned back to Finn. ¡°So?¡±


    Finn sighed. ¡°Yep. They do their best to make me feel useful, but in a cramped and dark dungeon I am not nearly as useful as out here. Sure, I help, but much of what makes me a valuable member of this team is simply trashed down there. So, yes, they can handle it on their own. Easily.¡±


    Elara frowned. ¡°We all know you get a little less effective in dungeons, but you are still doing damage and helping out. You can even interrupt some attacks due to your threat sense. And also, we can¡¯t even walk the overworld properly if you aren¡¯t scouting ahead. So, stop talking like that, please?¡±


    Finn smiled gently, but I could see the man was torn. He loved his job, but hated his weakness when it came to battling in confined spaces. He was essential, he knew it, but still wanted more. Well, ain¡¯t that convenient?


    Taking advantage of Elara¡¯s interruption I turned to her. ¡°What about you Elara? I can tell that the other three can handle it easily. And now I know that Finn wants more. Where do you stand?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡­ I am necessary. Same as Finn. There are things to do in dungeons other than fighting, you know?¡± She pouted.


    So, no comment on that. Right. It¡¯s not like I needed anyone else anyway. Finn is more than enough.


    ¡°Fine then. So, we will divide ourselves into two teams. Me and Finn on the surface. You four in the dungeon. Let¡¯s get some rest and then we can start.¡± I said while slowly laying down.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait. No way you are thinking of going after the spinos, right?¡± asked Finn.


    ¡°Already did. It will be fine.¡± I said nonchalantly.


    From the corner of my right eye I could see Flin turning to the others, shrugging, Gareth frowning, Rhys giving him a mocking thumbs up, Elara looking worried and Bronwyn eating yet another pack of chips without a care in the world.


    ¡°Vincent, listen¡­¡± Gareth was already starting again. And I am a little fed up with it.


    ¡°Finn.¡± I said a little louder. ¡°Go though there. You will find a small chamber with a small aperture at the bottom, you go through it as well, then you will end up in a narrow corridor that forms an arc around a big chamber, there¡¯s another aperture there , a slightly larger one, but not by much. Use it to take a peek into the big chamber.¡±


    Finn looked at the group. Gareth nodded. I am quite sure I am getting a little angry at that. Finn got up and was about to make his way to the aperture.


    ¡°Finn.¡± I said calmly.


    Finn turned back and looked at me.


    ¡°Don¡¯t enter the big chamber. Peek from the corridor. Very important. Got it?¡± I said nonchalantly.


    Finn nodded and left.


    Not one minute later his voice echoed from the corridor.


    ¡°Holy shit¡­ Holy shit¡­ Holy shit¡­¡±


    I did my best not to smirk.


    I failed.

 Chapter 015

    After Finn returned with sparkling eyes I didn¡¯t give them time to discuss anything among themselves since there was no need.


    ¡°I¡¯ve trapped four of them,¡± I said. ¡°It works like a pit trap.¡± I gesture with my hands as if they were the grate on top. ¡°The grate on top was tampered with. Can¡¯t hold a croc¡¯s weight.¡±


    ¡°So, you trapped four of those¡­ things?¡± Gareth asked, his voice laced with awe.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied, nodding. ¡°They can¡¯t climb out. They¡¯re defenseless against ranged attacks. Hence the need for Finn to stick with me while you go butcher rats.¡±


    I turned to Finn, the archer of the group. ¡°I suppose that you can take them down quite easily,¡± I said. ¡°With your bow. Shooting from the shafts.¡±


    Finn¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ brilliant.¡±


    ¡°The sewers cover most of the underground layer of the instance,¡± I explained. ¡°And I¡¯ve already cleared most of the debris. Getting to the trap won¡¯t be difficult. Or dangerous. It might not be as fast as taking out some rats, but it¡¯s the only way I can hunt down here.¡±


    ¡°And we could take down all of them,¡± Bronwyn said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. ¡°If we wanted.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± I said. ¡°And there¡¯s another advantage. Time.¡±


    ¡°We can spend a significant amount of time inside, dealing with the rats and hunting those creatures, while only a fraction of that time passes outside,¡± I explained.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ effective,¡± Elara murmured. ¡°We could gather a lot of resources in a short amount of time.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s only one thing I¡¯m worried about,¡± I said, my voice becoming more serious. ¡°Supplies. What I have left will only last about a week, at most. And I haven¡¯t located the cafeteria yet. Even if I do, I¡¯m not sure there will be any food left.¡±


    The group erupted in laughter. I looked at them, confused.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Vincent,¡± Gareth said, still chuckling. ¡°You have four giant lizards waiting to be turned into pincushions. That¡¯s more than enough food for us.¡±


    My eyes widened. I hadn¡¯t even considered that. People did eat alligators, I supposed. It wasn¡¯t that different.


    ¡°If we make jerky out of them,¡± Rhys said, ¡°we¡¯ll have food for weeks. And that¡¯s if we don¡¯t manage to kill more in the meantime.¡±


    I felt my cheeks flush slightly. I had been so focused on the strategic aspects of my plan that I had overlooked the most obvious solution.


    ¡°And there''s more,¡± Elara said, smiling. ¡°I have a skill that purifies meat from monsters. It removes any toxins or impurities, making it safe to eat.¡±


    A wave of relief washed over me. That was incredibly fortunate. A skill like that was invaluable in this world, where so many creatures were likely poisonous or diseased.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ excellent,¡± I said, nodding. It was a solid choice for a ¡°gift¡± from the System. Efficient, practical, and essential for survival. I approved, even if I didn''t say it out loud.


    Everything was falling into place. My plan was solid, the group was on board, and we had a reliable source of food. It was time to put everything into action.


    But I also noticed that they might have more than one of those gifts. Elara got two so far. The one to detect deception and this one to cleanse meat. No telling how much or what they are still choosing not to share with me.


    ¡°So, it¡¯s settled then,¡± Gareth said, his voice decisive. ¡°We¡¯ll deal with the gators tomorrow, secure our food supply, and then start exploring the sewers, and the rat dungeon, for more resources.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± I said, a smile spreading across my face. My plan, not yours, Gareth.


    The rest of the day was spent preparing. They checked and rechecked their gear, sharpened their weapons, and discussed a little bit of strategy. I explained the layout of the sewers, the location of the trap, how to reach the grate to reset it when needed, and the best way to approach it.


    As the sun set and the fire crackled, a sense of anticipation filled the camp.


    ¡°So, when you said your final move was bleeding all over the place and screaming alone at a dark corner¡­¡± Finn said, amused.


    I simply nodded. ¡°The gators are dangerous prowlers and lurkers, yes. But not exactly smart. When they hear the noise, they cautiously come check it out, then they smell the blood and go for the grate before falling down the pit.¡±


    Finn smiled. The guy appears to be happy to have a task only he can fulfill. I can use that.


    After a few boring topics related to people in crystal coffins and the challenges that might surface when trying to restore society to a certain degree, everyone finally decided to sleep. I retreated to my own little exclusive chamber and used my makeshift shield as a makeshift door. Never saw a rat out here, but I¡¯m not going to take any chances.


    It was a rather quick night. One blink and it was morning. I didn¡¯t feel rested at all. But they were all ready to go. Today was croc hunting day. Or should I call it croc shooting day? I already did the hunting, it was more like shooting fish in a barrel.


    The four trapped creatures were still there, seemingly asleep with their eyes opened. Creepy.


    Luckily, for Finn, their eyes had a little glow in the dim light. I supposed they also get some good night vision. Noted. No night hunting if possible.


    Finn took aim with his bow, his arrow finding its mark with deadly accuracy. One by one, the creatures fell, their hisses and snarls fading into silence.


    The fun had begun. The work was done, it was time for profit.


    The initial excitement of the successful hunt quickly gave way to a chilling realization. As we prepared the fallen creatures for processing ¨C a gruesome task that Elara handled with surprising efficiency, her meat purification skill proving invaluable ¨C the group began discussing the cost of our return to the instance.


    I, as the first to enter, had done so for free. But the others¡­


    ¡°Ten shards for me,¡± Finn said.


    ¡°Thirty for me,¡± Bronwyn added.


    ¡°Sixty for me,¡± Rhys muttered.


    ¡°One hundred for me,¡± Elara said, a slight frown creasing her brow.


    ¡°And one hundred and fifty for me,¡± Gareth concluded, shaking his head.


    The numbers echoed in the damp air of the sewers, each one a reminder of the System¡¯s relentless economy. Ten, thirty, sixty, one hundred, one hundred and fifty¡­ That was a total of three hundred and fifty spirit shards.


    Three hundred and fifty.


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    My stomach churned. That was an exorbitant amount. I had only started with ten, and I had spent over half of them just to get some basic information. It took me days to get back to ten and get out of the instance. The thought of spending that much on a single trip into an instance made me feel faint.


    I looked at the group, my expression a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. ¡°I appreciate you guys doing this,¡± I said while frowning. ¡°But that¡¯s a lot of shards.¡±


    They looked at me, a mixture of amusement and reassurance in their eyes.


    ¡°It¡¯s no problem, Vincent,¡± Gareth said, clapping me on the shoulder. ¡°We believe in your plan. And we¡¯ll make it back, and then some.¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Elara added, smiling. ¡°Three hundred and fifty split six ways isn¡¯t even sixty shards each.¡±


    Six ways. They were already including me as a member of their group. The realization warmed me slightly, but it also increased my sense of responsibility.


    ¡°We¡¯ll make it back from these big lizards easily,¡± Finn said, gesturing towards the carcasses. ¡°There are dozens of them around, and unlike the rats, they drop multiple shards each.¡±


    ¡°And don¡¯t forget the rat den,¡± Bronwyn added. ¡°A proper rat den always has plenty of rats to kill, and at least one broodmother or one rat king, if not both. And that means a chance for a magic item.¡±


    ¡°A magic item?¡± I asked, my curiosity piqued.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Gareth confirmed. ¡°A powerful artifact, imbued with spirit essence. They¡¯re incredibly rare and incredibly valuable.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve only heard rumors,¡± Elara said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. ¡°But they say a magic item can go for at least two thousand spirit shards, if you can find someone willing to sell one.¡±


    Two thousand shards. The number was staggering. It was more than enough to buy several ¡°gifts¡± from the System, or to rescue dozens of people from instances.


    The group continued to work on the carcasses, preparing the meat for jerky. The thick hides were also a valuable resource.


    ¡°The skin would make excellent armor,¡± Gareth said, running his hand over one of the hides. ¡°But it¡¯s way too tough for us to work with. We¡¯d need a special skill for that.¡±


    He looked at Finn. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for your accurate shots, aiming for their soft spots, and especially their eyes, these beasts wouldn''t have gone down at all. This instance is a nightmare.¡±


    I nodded slowly, realizing just how dangerous these creatures were. I had been lucky to escape with only a bite wound¡­ from a rat.


    ¡°I remember something,¡± I said, drawing their attention. ¡°Did any of you query the system about the status of this place when it comes to people and such?¡±


    ¡°Finn?¡± Gareth asked, tilting his head.


    ¡°Just looked for survivors.¡± Finn said while shaking his head. ¡°Only got one. You. And that¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°Eight thousand four hundred and sixty nine in total.¡± I said nonchalantly.


    ¡°Eh¡­ What?¡± Finn asked. Bronwyn widened her eyes. The others looked a little confused.


    ¡°Are you serious?¡± Bronwyn asked, her tone rather serious.


    I just nodded. I would¡¯ve smirked, but somehow it didn¡¯t seem right.


    ¡°What? What?¡± Finn asked while looking at me and then at Bronwyn.


    Gareth and Elara seemed to have realized what I meant. Rhys, if he did, he didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°There are over eight thousand people trapped in this instance.¡± Elara said, with a hand covering her mouth. She does seem to do so quite a lot. Also, flustered. Again.


    Gareth just grunted while rubbing his head.


    Rhys eyes¡¯ glinted and he looked straight at me. Yes, Rhys, this means there aren¡¯t dozens of these crocs around, there are hundreds. And all of them will be hunted by the six of us. Or at least this is what I hope the man is thinking.


    Finn is just standing there with his mouth agape. Looking at everyone as if deciding what should be the proper response. And, as expected, he harrumphed and crossed his arms while looking down and doing his best to look worried or something like that. Mimicking Gareth.


    The silence that followed was heavy, laden with the weight of that staggering number. Over eight thousand people, trapped in crystal, scattered across this merged landscape.


    ¡°Imagine the amount of shards needed to get everyone out,¡± Bronwyn said, her voice grim.


    The thought was overwhelming. A seemingly impossible amount. They all looked burdened.


    The mood had shifted dramatically. The initial excitement of the hunt had been replaced by a somber realization of the scale of the challenge that lay ahead. I couldn¡¯t really understand why. Nothing has changed, the strategy was the same, the approach was the same, the difficulty was the same.


    I felt a pang of guilt. I had brought these people into this instance, and had, even if not knowing how it works, encouraged them to spend their precious shards. And now, they look like they wished to never set foot in here. Couldn¡¯t they see the potential?


    But I also felt a renewed sense of purpose. This wasn¡¯t just about making some shards and rescuing Mark anymore. It was about finding a way to survive in this new world. And I could see this group could have what it takes, they certainly got the abilities. But can they keep their heads in the game?


    I looked at the group, my gaze steady. ¡°We can do this,¡± I said, my voice firm. ¡°We just need to take it one step at a time.¡±


    Finn nodded at me and was about to smile, but then he realized no one did and then he just returned to his somber mood, following their lead. Tiresome. Better let them deal with it, for now.


    As the pile of alligator meat grew larger, the group seemed to be recovering. But a new concern began to gnaw at me. We had successfully hunted the creatures, but we were now faced with the challenge of preserving the meat.


    We had a lot of it, far more than we could eat in a few days. If we didn¡¯t find a way to preserve it, it would spoil, and all our efforts would be wasted.


    I voiced my concern to the group. ¡°We have a lot of meat,¡± I said, gesturing towards the growing pile. ¡°But we don¡¯t have much time to eat it all before it goes bad. Shouldn¡¯t we go find some firewood to make a smoker or something like that?¡±


    Elara smiled reassuringly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Vincent,¡± she said. ¡°My purification skill also works on preservation. It¡¯s like¡­ recasting the meat, resetting its expiration date.¡±


    That was sort of incredible. Her skill wasn¡¯t just about making the meat safe to eat; it was also a powerful preservation tool.


    ¡°It¡¯s actually the only skill I took to the next stage,¡± Elara continued. ¡°It cost five hundred shards, but it was worth every single shard.¡±


    Five hundred shards? Ouch. But I could see why it¡¯s well worth it. In a world where food spoilage was a constant threat, a skill like that was invaluable. It was almost a cheat code for survival.


    ¡°Wood won¡¯t be a problem either,¡± Finn said, gesturing towards the massive redwood that had become a central feature of this merged landscape. ¡°My gift lets me create arrows directly from wood, magically. And they work just fine as improvised skewers. And firewood.¡± He grinned, and the others chuckled.


    I had noticed the perfectly crafted arrows he used, but I hadn¡¯t realized they were created through a magical ability. That was another significant advantage. An endless supply of arrows, and makeshift skewers and firewood to boot.


    ¡°My gift is also quite useful for survival,¡± Bronwyn said, her voice quiet but confident. ¡°I can extract clean, drinkable water directly from plants.¡±


    ¡°And the next stage of your gift would allow you to preserve the benefits the plant could offer,¡± Elara added. ¡°If used on a healing herb, like the ones I used on Vincent¡¯s wound, it would create a makeshift healing potion of sorts.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s our next goal,¡± Gareth said. ¡°Getting Bronwyn¡¯s skill to the next stage. It costs fifteen hundred shards, so it will take some time, but it would almost remove the need for a dedicated healer in our party.¡±


    I nodded slowly, impressed by the group¡¯s balance. They had clearly chosen their ¡°gifts¡± carefully, focusing on practical skills that enhanced their chances of survival. I didn¡¯t know what other gifts they possessed, but I suspected they were equally useful.


    Although Gareth and Rhys, which I assume were the frontline tank and ambush damage dealer of the group, if it works like that, didn¡¯t tell me about their abilities at all. Noted.


    I didn¡¯t bother asking, though. It wasn¡¯t my place. Not yet, at least.


    As the group began the process of turning the alligator meat into jerky, I turned my attention to the next phase of our plan: the rat hunt. I knew Gareth was quite confident, but we can always improve the efficiency by preparing better.


    For that, I needed to build raised platforms. I had observed the library before the merging, and I remembered seeing several book carts. They were sturdy, designed to handle heavy loads, and they all had wheels. They would be perfect for that. Mobile barricades to funnel or even block rats.


    I made my way back to the library, carefully navigating the tunnels. The library was still eerily quiet, the rows of bookshelves standing like silent sentinels. I found the book carts exactly where I remembered them, lined up against a wall in the main reading room.


    I also found several sturdy shelves, which I planned to use as barriers on the platforms. The shelves were heavy, but I managed to drag them to the nearest access point to the sewers.


    The next challenge was getting the carts and shelves into the dungeon. The tunnels leading to the Rat Warrens were narrow and twisting, and some of them were quite short. There was no way for me to move the assembled platforms through them.


    I would have to assemble them inside the dungeon.


    I started by disassembling one of the book carts, carefully removing the shelves and the wheels. I then started to carry the individual parts through the tunnels. I assumed it would be a rather tedious process, but I was determined to do it right. But I didn¡¯t get to try it.


    Turns out Rhys was keeping an eye on me all along and I never got to make the first trip.

 Chapter 016

    ¡°It won¡¯t work.¡± Rhys whispered from the crawlspace below the library, scaring the shit out of me, but I managed to remain still and expressionless.


    ¡°Elaborate.¡± I said.


    ¡°Dungeons work under a different set of laws. Whatever you do within it, won¡¯t stick.¡± Rhys said.


    ¡°Creating a fortified position for a later delve is meaningless since the dungeon sort of resets.¡± I said calmly. I can¡¯t deny I was a little annoyed by such news.


    ¡°Precisely.¡± Rhys said.


    ¡°And if someone stays there?¡± I tentatively asked.


    ¡°Alone in a dungeon full of rats that might crawl out of every corner in droves?¡± Rhys said. It didn¡¯t sound like a question at all.


    ¡°You got a point.¡± I said while sighing. ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to stick with the gators then. I will think about how to deal with dungeons later.¡±


    ¡°Wise. Although I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a way to deal with dungeons like that.¡± Rhys said. ¡°I asked the system about it. It called it a ¡®rule¡¯ derived from a ¡®law¡¯ and whatnot. Something to do with the flow of time and space within another layer of reality or some bullshit like that.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± I said, already considered the way the system most likely phrase it.


    ¡°You do know that the system won¡¯t let you mess with its rules, right?¡± Rhys asked.


    ¡°Not sure. I don¡¯t even know what these ¡®rules¡¯ or ¡®laws¡¯ actually mean.¡±


    ¡°Nether do I.¡± Rhys sighed. ¡°But if the damn thing can merge words and set the flow of time within different instances to favor growth and resource generation, I don¡¯t think it will budge.¡±


    ¡°True.¡± I said. Arranging the cart pieces in a neat pile. They will remain here, for now.


    Rhys was most likely right. The system won¡¯t allow its ¡®rules¡¯ or ¡®laws¡¯ or whatever to be broken. It will probably deal rather harshly with those who dare try. If such a thing is even possible.


    And that¡¯s why you shouldn¡¯t try breaking rules. Just find a little, and fully exploitable, loophole.


    I got down to the crawlspace, but Rhys was already gone. Or so it seems. Maybe he has some kind of stealth skill and whatnot. It would make sense. He did mention his flaw perception helping with ambushes and stealth would work well with it for a rogue or crit build. Whatever.


    I returned to the camp, where the others were still working on the meat. The air was filled with the savory smell of roasting alligator, and the mood was light and jovial.


    We gathered around the fire, sharing stories and laughter. I sensed the air of camaraderie. These people, these strangers, as my allies, my companions in this strange new world. It felt nice. But also somewhat fake.


    It was a nice night. Make no mistake. But there was no mention of their other gifts or even their intentions regarding the future. The group is after shards, to improve, but¡­ to what end?


    Sure, they might be as lost as I am. I need to ask a ton of things to this greedy system. But they just spent over three hundred shards just to make it in here. And that means they think they already have enough information to handle it. Maybe they do. Probably not.


    And they sure haven¡¯t shared nearly enough to make me see things from their perspective.


    They never talked about where they heard rumors, from who or their encounters with other people. I don¡¯t even know where they came from, how they came together or what difficulties they faced. They talked a lot, but didn¡¯t actually say much. Generic information over generic topics. Useful, sure, but ultimately meaningless for someone stuck in the same instance from the start.


    After dinner I returned to my tiny chamber. My makeshift shield worked as a makeshift door. I didn¡¯t sleep very well. Or at least I think I didn¡¯t, since morning came quickly nonetheless.


    As the group busied themselves with the gruesome task of processing the alligator carcasses, my mind wandered. I observed their abilities, their ¡°gifts¡± from the System, and considered what I might choose for myself when I had enough spirit shards. I wasn¡¯t a fighter, that much was clear. My strengths lay in planning, in strategy, in finding efficient solutions to complex problems.


    But at the same time I did want to fight. Perhaps trying something completely different would be very fun. Let someone else do the thinking for a change. Yeah, not happening. Fighting is fine, but there¡¯s no way I will let anyone else make decisions for me, not unless said person is very convincing.


    While contemplating these thoughts, an amusing idea sparked in my mind. I needed to test a theory, and for that, I required Finn¡¯s unique ability.


    ¡°Finn,¡± I called out, beckoning him over. ¡°Could you walk with me for a moment? I want to see if something I¡¯m thinking about will work. I could use your¡­ expertise.¡±


    Finn looked up, a curious expression on his face. The rest of the group, sensing something interesting was about to happen, followed us as we walked towards the base of the massive redwood.


    ¡°What¡¯s up, Vincent?¡± Finn asked as we reached the tree.


    ¡°I want to see your arrow creation skill in action,¡± I said, gesturing to the trunk. ¡°Could you create an arrow for me?¡±


    Finn nodded and placed his hand on the rough bark. The trunk shimmered slightly, the wood distorting as if something was moving beneath the surface. An arrow began to protrude from the tree, seemingly growing directly from the wood. The tip of the arrow was still connected to the bark by a thin thread of wood.


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    Finn then simply pulled the arrow out, the connection snapping easily. He handed it to me, a perfectly crafted arrow, as if it had been made by a skilled fletcher.


    I smiled. ¡°Impressive,¡± I said. ¡°Now, could you do another one? But this time¡­¡± I pointed to a spot higher up the trunk, about chest height. ¡°Do it there.¡±


    Finn looked slightly confused but complied, placing his hand on the designated spot. The wood shimmered again, and another arrow began to emerge.


    When the arrow was about halfway out, I stopped him. ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± I said.


    Finn froze, his hand still on the tree, his face a mask of confusion. The arrow remained half-protruding, as if the tip was still within the trunk.


    I watched it for a moment, observing the connection between the arrow and the tree. The wood didn¡¯t recede, it didn''t disappear, it didn''t return to the tree. It just¡­ stayed there.


    I punched Finn lightly on the shoulder. ¡°Awesome,¡± I said.


    Finn scratched his head, still utterly perplexed. I looked back at the rest of the group, expecting them to understand my train of thought. But surprisingly, they looked just as confused as Finn.


    ¡°People,¡± I said, gesturing towards the tree and the unfinished arrow. ¡°I don¡¯t make a habit of living in sewers. We¡¯re going to get ourselves the biggest treehouse ever.¡±


    I pointed to the half-protruding arrow. ¡°This,¡± I said, ¡°is the first piece of the first step of the ladder that might lead us up there.¡± I then pointed upwards, to where the massive trunk split into several thick branches, forming a natural platform high above the ground.


    ¡°And guess what?¡± I said, a grim smile spreading across my face. ¡°These gators are shitty climbers.¡±


    I looked at Finn again. ¡°You,¡± I said, pointing at him, ¡°can do this single-handedly while I trap gators and the others hunt rats.¡±


    The others looked at me, then back at Finn, then back at the tree. A slow dawning of understanding spread across their faces. Wry smiles began to appear.


    Gareth, their leader, muttered under his breath, ¡°And we were taking unnecessary risks sleeping on the ground this whole time?¡±


    Finn blushed slightly. ¡°In my defense,¡± he stammered, ¡°I never considered stopping my skill midway and leaving it in the tree like this. I make arrows. That¡¯s all the skill said I could do¡­¡±


    Gareth smiled and sighed. ¡°Yeah¡­ and it took Vincent two hours after hearing about that to come up with a shelter solution that can be used, well, anywhere we find a big enough tree or a bunch of them together¡­¡±


    Finn turned his head as if looking for something far more interesting elsewhere, clearly trying to avoid further comments.


    I grinned. ¡°Really awesome,¡± I repeated, pleased with my idea.


    The implications were clear. Finn could create an endless supply of wooden protrusions from the tree, creating a ladder, a platform, even a full-fledged treehouse, high above the reach of any ground-based predators.


    The group began to discuss the possibilities, their initial confusion replaced by excitement. They talked about the design of the treehouse, the best way to secure it, the view we would have from up there. But no one asked me to take a look at another of their gifts.


    Seeing Finn¡¯s ability in action made some of my decisions easier. I sort of knew what I wanted from the system and Finn¡¯s arrow creation was proof enough that was within the system¡¯s capabilities. But I had a lot of things to check before making that decision. Lots of questions.


    A well ¡®crafted¡¯ ability would simplify everything, making seemingly insurmountable tasks almost trivial, especially when combined with the skills of others. Not that I had any intention of making my own ¡®gift¡¯ something complementary to them.


    Sure, I didn¡¯t know the full extent of their ¡°gifts.¡± They were clearly holding some back, likely things that wouldn¡¯t have been relevant to our current situation. They certainly didn''t have anything like what I had in mind, or they would have used it already.


    It was time to take the plunge. I had to ask. The thought made me uncomfortable. Asking for help, especially after they had already spent so many shards on ¡®my behalf¡¯, felt¡­ awkward. But I needed those shards. I needed this ability.


    I steeled myself and approached the group. They were still busy with the alligator jerky, the air thick with the smoky scent of roasting meat.


    ¡°Guys,¡± I said, clearing my throat. ¡°There¡¯s something I wanted to ask you.¡±


    They looked up, their expressions curious.


    ¡°I was wondering if you had any¡­ extra spirit shards,¡± I asked tentatively, feeling my cheeks flush slightly. ¡°I need to¡­ try something with the System and to do that I need to ask it some questions¡­ probably a lot of questions, but for now a handful would suffice. It¡¯s about my ¡®gift¡¯, I sort of have an idea, but can¡¯t really say if it¡¯s available.¡±


    A brief silence hung in the air. They exchanged glances, a subtle communication passing between them. Then, they smiled.


    They knew. They knew I was going to try something¡­ unconventional. Something¡­ outrageous, perhaps, considering what I had been able to accomplish with so little.


    ¡°How many do you need?¡± Gareth asked, a twinkle in his eye.


    ¡°Not sure,¡± I repeated. ¡°At least twenty to see if what I am thinking is even a possibility.¡±


    Gareth nodded and turned to the others. ¡°How many do we have left?¡±


    They quickly counted their remaining shards.


    ¡°We have two hundred,¡± Elara announced.


    Two hundred. Far more than I had asked for.


    ¡°Here,¡± Gareth said, handing me a small pouch filled with the shimmering crystals. ¡°Take them. All of them, excluding the seventy we will need to leave.¡±


    I looked at the pouch, my eyes wide with disbelief. ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked. ¡°This is¡­ a lot.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re confident in you, Vincent,¡± Gareth said, clapping me on the shoulder. ¡°We know you¡¯ll pick something¡­ interesting.¡±


    ¡°And you might need to ¡®talk it out¡¯ with the System,¡± Elara added, winking. ¡°We each spent at least twenty to forty shards just getting the details right before settling on our gifts.¡±


    ¡°You should be extra cautious,¡± Bronwyn said, her tone serious. ¡°You seem to be¡­ well, extra cautious. It will be useful.¡±


    I smiled slightly. They were right. I was cautious. It was in my nature. And in this world, caution was a valuable asset.


    ¡°I¡¯ll pay you back,¡± I said, my voice sincere. ¡°With interest.¡±


    Gareth chuckled. ¡°That only applies if you pick a shitty ability that doesn¡¯t help us at all,¡± he said. ¡°We will get it all back from the rats and lizards either way.¡±


    I smiled again. ¡°Fair enough,¡± I replied.


    With the pouch of shards in hand, I excused myself and headed off to find a quiet place. I needed to focus, to concentrate on what I wanted. This was perhaps the most important decision I had made in my immediate future.


    I got back to my tiny chamber, a short dead end away from the main thoroughfare. The air was still cool, but the noise and the smell of roasting meat were significantly less intense.


    I sat down on the concrete floor, emptying the pouch of shards into my lap. The crystals shimmered in the dim light. Two hundred shards. It was a significant amount. More than enough to experiment, to fine-tune my potential request to the System.


    I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. I needed to visualize what I wanted, to clearly define the parameters of my desired ability. This wasn¡¯t just about getting an ability; it was about shaping my future, about giving myself the tools I needed to survive and thrive in this new world.


    I focused on the image of Finn creating arrows from the tree. It wasn''t about creating arrows, though. It was about manipulating the very fabric of the world around me. It was about control.


    I opened my eyes, my gaze fixed on the shimmering shards in my lap. I knew what I wanted. I knew what I needed.


    I was ready to talk to the System.

 Chapter 017

    I arranged the shards in front of me, their soft luminescence illuminating the concrete walls. Two hundred of them. A significant investment, a testament to the group¡¯s trust in me. I wouldn¡¯t let them down. I will make it useful.


    I closed my eyes, focusing on the image of the shimmering text I had seen before, the System¡¯s interface. I concentrated on the feeling of that ethereal presence, that cold, calculating intelligence.


    Then, the familiar sensation washed over me. The air shimmered, and the translucent blue text appeared before my eyes.


    [Query?]


    I took a deep breath. This was it.


    ¡°I wish to acquire a ¡®gift,¡¯¡± I said, my voice clear and steady. ¡°An ability. Something that will aid me in my survival.¡±


    [Specify parameters.]


    The interaction had begun. This was the ¡°talking it out¡± Gareth had mentioned. The delicate process of defining exactly what I wanted, of negotiating with the System to ensure my request was within its parameters.


    I began to describe the ability I envisioned, carefully choosing my words. I spoke of manipulating the very substance of the world around me, of shaping and molding it to my will. I focused on the practical applications, the ways this ability could aid in survival, in exploration, in combat.


    The System responded with a series of questions, probing the limits of my request. It seems the damn thing needs lots of.. specifications.


    I spent the next several hours engaged in this intricate negotiation, refining my request, clarifying my intentions. Each question to and from the System cost a spirit shard, a small price that quickly piles up, as expected.


    I asked about the limitations, about the potential drawbacks, about the possibility of further development. The System answered each question with cold, precise logic, providing detailed explanations and statistical probabilities. I found it agreeable. I even preferred such when dealing with so many¡­ technicalities.


    Eighty spirit shards. That¡¯s how many I spent before the System finally accepted my request. Eighty shards just to define the parameters of my desired ability. It was a significant investment, but I felt it was worth it. I had covered all the bases, ensuring that what I would receive was exactly what I wanted. Or it would become exactly what I wanted, eventually.


    [Request accepted. Cost: 50 spirit shards.]


    I paid the cost without hesitation. The shimmering text shifted, displaying a new message.


    [Acquiring Gift¡­ Process complete].


    A strange sensation washed over me, a feeling of something shifting within me, of something new taking root. I felt¡­ different. More complete.


    But I wasn¡¯t finished. I had learned from the group that abilities could be further developed, enhanced, evolved. I wanted more. I was ready for more. I was prepared for more.


    ¡°I wish to inquire about further development of this gift,¡± I said to the System.


    [Specify development path.]


    I described the specific enhancements I envisioned, focusing on increasing the scale, the control, and the versatility of my new ability.


    The System responded with another series of questions, probing the limits of my request. Yet a whole new series of specifications.


    Another fifty spirit shards vanished as I negotiated the next two stages of my gift¡¯s evolution. I was very happy to discover that such development was possible. My path was set. Now all I needed was enough spirit shards to walk it.


    [Development paths acquired. Current cost for next stage: 4500 spirit shards. Subsequent stages will require additional negotiation and payment.]


    Four thousand five hundred spirit shards for the next stage. It was a staggering amount. And that wasn¡¯t even the end. The System had also informed me of the need for two ¡°side gifts¡± I could acquire, complementary abilities that would enhance my primary gift, allowing it to ¡®accept¡¯ the third stage, eventually. They would cost 500 and 5000 spirit shards respectively.


    That brought the total cost to a whopping 10,000 spirit shards for me to get everything set. It took some time to negotiate the details of the final stage with the system. I wasn''t aware that some aspects of what I wanted needed express approval by the system. But this gave me an even more outrageous idea. One worth betting on.


    At this point I only had twenty shards left. And I decided to use them not for myself, but for something far more¡­ strategic.


    ¡°I have a suggestion,¡± I said to the System. ¡°Regarding the combination of these gifts, and their potential impact on the balance of the Myriad Realms.¡±


    [Specify.]


    I explained my reasoning, outlining the potential for abuse, the ways this combination of abilities could be exploited to create imbalance and chaos. I focused on the long-term consequences, the ripple effects that could destabilize entire instances, dungeons or even entire realms. If given time.


    The System listened, its cold, calculating intelligence processing my words.


    [Suggestion analyzed. Statistical probability of imbalance: over 90%. Suggestion accepted. Combination of specified gifts and development paths will be designated as unique, restricted to the initial acquirer. Banished henceforth.]


    A wave of satisfaction washed over me. It worked. I had exploited the System¡¯s own logic, its own concern for balance, to achieve my goal. My particular set of gifts, my specific development path, would be locked. No one else would be able to acquire it.


    I had already committed to it. I had already paid in advance. I had gotten what I wanted, and then I had told the System why it was a very bad idea to let anyone else have it.


    I smiled to myself. I felt a pang of guilt about spending all two hundred spirit shards. The group most likely wouldn¡¯t have expected me to use them all. But what was done was done. And I wouldn¡¯t regret it. Ever.


    I was ready to change the scales of these challenges. Rules of engagement be damned.


    Unfortunately, the interaction with the System had taken its toll. I felt drained, not just mentally, as the group had expected, but physically as well. A strange weariness had settled over me, a bone-deep exhaustion that made even the simplest movements feel like a monumental effort. I could even feel my face was a little pale. I didn¡¯t expect it to suck this much.


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    I practically dragged myself back to the camp, the pouch of now-empty spirit shards clutched tightly in my hand. The aroma of roasting alligator was still strong, but it did little to lift my spirits.


    The group looked up as I approached, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and concern.


    ¡°Vincent, you look¡­ tired,¡± Gareth said, his brow furrowed.


    ¡°I am,¡± I admitted, sinking down onto a nearby log. ¡°Dealing with the System¡­ it was¡­ intense.¡±


    ¡°We figured it would be mentally taxing,¡± Elara said. ¡°But you look physically drained.¡±


    ¡°It was both,¡± I replied. ¡°Easier and much more difficult than I expected at the same time.¡±


    The group exchanged confused glances.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Finn asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ complicated,¡± I said, waving my hand dismissively. I wasn¡¯t ready to explain the intricacies of my negotiations with the System, or the drastic measures I had taken to secure my desired outcome.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to be gone for a couple of days,¡± I said, changing the subject. ¡°I have enough food and water for the duration. You guys should focus on prepping the jerky and setting up the treehouse while I¡¯m away.¡±


    ¡°We can also trap more crocs if you want,¡± Bronwyn offered.


    ¡°There¡¯s not much point to it as of now,¡± I said. ¡°We already have plenty of food, and water isn¡¯t an issue, thanks to Rhys.¡±


    ¡°What about¡­ what you were doing with the System?¡± Gareth asked. ¡°Did you¡­ get what you wanted?¡±


    ¡°I did,¡± I confirmed, a small smile playing on my lips. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a proper demonstration later. I need to¡­ get used to the changes first.¡±


    The group nodded, still looking slightly confused.


    ¡°You take the time you need, Vincent,¡± Elara said. ¡°But you have to keep us updated. If we don¡¯t hear from you by tonight, we¡¯re coming to look for you first thing in the morning. Safety first and all that.¡±


    ¡°Agreed,¡± I said. I could use some gator barbecue for dinner anyway.


    With that, I turned and headed back into the dark tunnels. The group watched me go, their expressions thoughtful. I could sense their concern, not just for my well-being, but also for the potential changes that might come with acquiring a ¡°gift¡± from the System. They had seen people change, and not always for the better.


    I didn¡¯t blame them for being worried. Power could corrupt, could twist people¡¯s personalities, could amplify their worst traits. But I was confident that I wouldn¡¯t succumb to such changes. I wasn¡¯t seeking power for its own sake. I was seeking it as a means to an end, a way to protect myself and to do my best to ensure my survival.


    I returned to my secluded chamber. I sat down on the cold floor, leaning back against the rough concrete wall. The exhaustion was still heavy on me, but there was something else now, a subtle shift in my perception. And I perceived that everything hurt and everything was tired.


    I closed my eyes, focusing on the feeling within me. It was like a subtle hum, a gentle vibration that resonated through my entire being. It was always there, I realized, but I had never been able to perceive it before. And now it was severely weakened.


    I knew, because now, I could feel it. A flow, a current of energy that pulsed within me, connecting me to something¡­ larger. It was a strange, almost alien sensation, but it was also exhilarating.


    It worked. The negotiation with the System, the expenditure of those precious spirit shards¡­ it had all been worth it. I had acquired what I wanted. I had gained control.


    I didn¡¯t reveal my gift to the group. Not yet. I needed time to understand it, to master it, to learn its full potential. It didn¡¯t come with a manual after all.


    I closed my eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over me. The cool feeling from the herbal poultice was still soothing my leg, easing the pain. And, despite the pain and exhaustion, it felt¡­ fulfilling.


    For the first time since the merger, since waking up in that crystal-filled office, I felt a sense of peace. I had a plan, I had allies, and now, I had the means to achieve my goals.


    I drifted off to sleep, a small smile playing on my lips.


    I woke feeling significantly better, though a lingering sluggishness remained. The exhilaration of acquiring my gift and securing its exclusivity was still fresh, but the cost had been steep. I needed to recover, to fully integrate this new part of myself. And that will take time.


    I slowly made my way back to the camp, needing to inform the group of my plans. I found them already up and about, the smell of alligator jerky filling the air.


    ¡°Morning,¡± I said, my voice still a little hoarse.


    ¡°Vincent!¡± Gareth exclaimed, turning to me. ¡°You look much better.¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± I replied. ¡°But I¡¯m still a little¡­ off. I¡¯m going to do some light training for a couple of days. I haven¡¯t recovered as quickly as I¡¯d hoped, and I need a little more time to get back into shape.¡±


    ¡°Training?¡± Elara asked, her brow furrowed. ¡°What kind of training?¡±


    ¡°Just¡­ getting used to the changes,¡± I said, waving my hand dismissively. ¡°Dealing with the System was¡­ a unique experience. Same for the consequences, I am afraid.¡±


    They exchanged confused glances, but nodded.


    ¡°You take the time you need, Vincent,¡± Gareth said. ¡°But keep us updated. If we don¡¯t hear from you by tonight, we¡¯re coming to look for you.¡±


    ¡°Safety first and all that,¡± Bronwyn added.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± I said, smiling. ¡°I¡¯ll be back for gator barbecue anyway.¡±


    With that, I turned and headed back into the dark tunnels. It was time to begin. Weakened or not.


    I sat down within my chamber. Then I focused on the feeling within me. Of me.


    The lifeforce, the current of energy I had discovered during my interaction with the System, was still there, flowing and pulsating within me. It was more than just a feeling now; it was a resource, a way to interact with my surroundings, a medium and a power in and of itself. If I could handle it.


    My will spread throughout my body, my body reached for my spirit acting like a new extrasensory perception mechanism, and my soul tied it all together. I felt whole. United. One. Me.


    I closed my eyes and focused. The lifeforce, engulfed by my will and spirit and tied to my soul, slowly split into two. The majority remained within me, sustaining my body, but a new portion now resided in my right hand. A distinct, separate portion.


    I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me. It made sense. I was pulling a part of myself, of my very essence, from within towards the surface. It was a taxing process, to say the least. I should get used to it, eventually. I hoped.


    My legs were shaky, but my eyes held a firm gaze. I reached out and scraped my hand against the solid stone wall.


    As my fingers made contact, the stone seemed to soften, to transform into mud. It oozed out of the wall, leaving deep, hollow crevices in the shape of my fingers. I was holding a ball of stone in my hand, as if the wall itself was made of clay or mud. It was heavy, especially for me.


    I smeared the softened stone onto a jagged corner of the wall, a sharp edge that could easily scrape someone¡¯s skin. It spread like thick paint, filling the crevices and smoothing the rough surface. I pulled my hand back. The stone was there, solidified, the jagged corner now smooth and rounded.


    I picked up my axe and struck the smoothed stone with all the strength I could muster, which wasn¡¯t much in my current state. The stone was covered in a few cracks, but it held.


    ¡°Good,¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°But not great. Not yet. Too fast. I need to do it slower.¡±


    And so, I began to practice. I focused on shifting my lifeforce into the stone wall, to make it a part of myself, to make it abide by my will. I focused on reshaping it, repurposing it, molding it to fulfill my goals.


    It was a slow, painstaking process. I had to learn to control the flow of my lifeforce, to direct it with precision and focus. I had to learn to feel the stone, to understand its properties, and to anticipate its reactions. And to remove it gradually, to let it settle properly.


    With each attempt, I felt the exhaustion growing, but not due to the lifeforce shifting, but due to the actual physical force required. But I persisted. I truly needed training. Lots of it.


    For now, a tunnel to my office would do. A safe passage, one that I could traverse easily and that those damn gators couldn¡¯t reach. And it would make it easier to fetch Mark later.


    The only downside is that I need to do it myself. Manually. At least for now. And for quite a long time if I¡¯m not mistaken. Maybe years. A minor inconvenience for such potential.


    I wondered how long it would take to make a whole network of smooth corridors and a series of traps all around the place. Dozens of traps waiting for crocs.


    I had never once considered fighting fairly.

 Chapter 018

    The training was exhausting, far more so than I had anticipated. It wasn¡¯t the consumption of my lifeforce itself; that wasn¡¯t the issue at all. My lifeforce wasn¡¯t being consumed in the traditional sense. It was a tool, a conduit. I used it to interact with the stone, to shape it, and then I pulled it back, returning it to myself. Over and over again.


    The strain came from the shifting, the constant control of its flow, the very act of interacting with the stone on a fundamental level. It sapped my stamina far faster than physically piling up bricks would have, though certainly less so than trying to pickaxe my way through a solid rock wall.


    It was worth it, I knew, but the disparity between my intentions and my current physical limitations was frustrating. I will have to focus on improving my physical condition, perhaps even seeking some form of physical enhancement from the System, to achieve everything I want at the pace I desire.


    But this would do for now. It would do just fine.


    My training consisted of extracting protrusions from the walls, using the excess stone to fill holes and reinforce cracks and fissures. Smoothing everything out, transforming the rough, uneven cave into a slick, solid corridor. It was¡­ almost fun. A strange sense of satisfaction came from molding the unyielding stone to my will.


    I couldn¡¯t accomplish much yet. It would take significantly more time and mana shards to reach the point I had warned the System about, the point where this ability could truly break the balance. But I will get there. Eventually.


    For now, I would be ¡®officially¡¯ a stone shaper. Not some grand mage who manipulated stone with a flick of the wrist, creating vast halls and intricate structures on a whim. I still had to shape it manually, using my own strength and will. It was a necessary compromise for a much broader scope, a much greater potential.


    But it was still slow. It would likely take weeks to recover to my previous physical condition, if I even managed to do that. It seemed the change to my lifeforce, the acquisition of my gift, had caused it to be refined, to become more potent. This meant I had possessed more lifeforce before, but of a lesser quality, and now I had a more refined lifeforce, but in a smaller quantity. Which translated directly to physical weakness.


    But then again, I could now grab solid stone and shape it freely until I became too exhausted. That translated to about half an hour of focused work for every hour of rest, as of now. But it was going well. I had created twenty steps of smooth, solid corridor in just one morning. The results were undeniable.


    And I could always work on getting back in shape later. I wouldn¡¯t be able to acquire this ability later on. No one would. Not after I had convinced the System to ban it as a potential choice for others.


    The thought brought a smile to my face. I had played the System at its own game, exploiting its own logic to secure my advantage. It was a gamble, spending all those shards to lock down my specific combination of gifts and their development path, but it was a gamble that had paid off.


    The image of the System''s blue text, the confirmation that my suggestion had been accepted, flashed through my mind. [Combination of specified gifts and development paths will be designated as unique, restricted to the initial acquirer.]


    No one else would ever possess this exact combination of abilities. It was mine, and mine alone.


    I continued my work, shaping the stone, smoothing the walls, and extending the corridor. The exhaustion was still present, but it was becoming more manageable. I was learning to control the flow of my lifeforce, to use it more efficiently.


    With each passing hour, with each completed section of the corridor, I felt a growing sense of accomplishment. I was making progress. I was building my own path, literally and figuratively.


    The thought of Mark, still trapped in that crystal, spurred me on. I really wanted to see the look on his face when he exited the office through a secure staircase into underground corridors without even bothering with the crocs. And then eating gator barbecue.


    The tunnel was slowly taking shape. It was a slow process, but I knew I would get there. Eventually.


    My calculations were precise, as they usually were. Logistics and planning were my strengths, and even in this chaotic new world, those skills remained invaluable.


    According to my estimations, it would take me approximately four days of continuous work to carve a tunnel from my current location to the building where my office was located. Underground, of course. The surface was still too dangerous, too unpredictable.


    From there, it would take at least another day to carve my way upwards, reinforcing the concrete corners and creating a vertical ladder of sorts, granting me direct access to my office on the third floor. It was a complex undertaking, but I had a clear plan, and I was confident in my ability to execute it.


    Mark, Susan, and John would be waiting there, encased in their crystal prisons. I would prioritize Mark¡¯s rescue, getting him out as quickly as possible. The other two¡­ they would have to wait. Until things were more stable, until I had a better understanding of the situation outside, I couldn¡¯t risk bringing them out. I couldn¡¯t trust them to keep it together, to avoid drawing unwanted attention.


    Mark was different. He had helped me before, freeing me from whatever force had held me captive before the merging. I couldn¡¯t imagine him doing that if he was prone to panic or irrational behavior. He was calm, collected, and perhaps more resourceful than I thought. He would most likely be an asset instead of a liability. I sure hope so.


    It would be weird to set the guy free just to find a way to get him encased in crystal again if he turns out to be¡­ problematic. But this remains to be seen. No point in worrying about it now.


    And then there were the others. Over eight thousand people were trapped within this instance, according to the System. I wasn¡¯t delusional enough to think I could save them all. Not now, at least. Even if I had the mana shards, which I didn¡¯t and wouldn¡¯t for a very long time, there was no way to provide for them. Not with the current state of things.


    My priority was Mark. I felt indebted to him, obligated to repay the favor he had done for me. It wasn¡¯t about friendship, not really. We were colleagues, bound by circumstance, not by deep personal connection. There was no promise, no oath to rescue him. It was simply a matter of honor, of fulfilling an unspoken debt. Don¡¯t be an asshole.


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    I finished smoothing another section of the tunnel wall, the stone now as slick. My exhaustion was still present, but it was becoming more manageable. I was adapting, my body adjusting to the constant flow and manipulation of my lifeforce. But the physical restraints remained.


    The training, as of now, wouldn¡¯t make me able to do more, but it will certainly allow me to do it for longer. Efficiency, not power. This would be the focus for now. For now.


    It was time to check in with the group, to let them know I was alright and to discuss our next steps. I wanted to gauge their eagerness for the rat hunt, to see if they were willing to wait a little longer for my¡­ grand reveal.


    I made my way back to the camp, the smell of alligator jerky still lingering in the air. The group was gathered around the fire, cleaning their weapons and discussing their plans.


    ¡°Vincent!¡± Gareth exclaimed as I approached. ¡°You¡¯re back. Everything alright?¡±


    ¡°Everything¡¯s fine,¡± I replied, forcing a smile. ¡°Just taking some time to adjust.¡±


    ¡°We were starting to get worried,¡± Elara said, her brow furrowed.


    ¡°I told you I¡¯d be back for dinner,¡± I said, gesturing towards the remaining alligator meat.


    ¡°So,¡± Gareth said, changing the subject. ¡°Are you ready to start the hunt?¡±


    ¡°Not quite yet,¡± I replied. ¡°I¡¯m still¡­ working on something. It¡¯s taking a little longer than I anticipated.¡±


    ¡°What are you working on?¡± Finn asked, his curiosity piqued.


    ¡°It¡¯s a surprise,¡± I said, winking. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a proper demonstration when I¡¯m ready. It will be worth the wait. And your investment.¡± I added, thinking of the 200 mana shards they had given me.


    ¡°How long do you think it will take?¡± Bronwyn asked.


    ¡°A week, perhaps,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe a little less. I¡¯m making good progress, but I need a little more time.¡±


    ¡°A week?¡± Gareth repeated, his brow furrowed. ¡°That¡¯s a long time.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I said. ¡°But trust me, it will be worth it. In the meantime, you¡¯re free to do as you please. You can continue prepping the jerky, or you can start hunting rats on your own. There are plenty of them, and we won¡¯t run short on gator meat anytime soon.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d rather wait for you,¡± Elara said. ¡°We want to see what you¡¯ve been working on.¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Finn added, grinning. ¡°Hunting crocs should be more fun than hunting rats.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°I appreciate that,¡± I said. ¡°I promise I won¡¯t keep you waiting any longer than necessary.¡±


    I paused, considering my next words. ¡°Just be patient,¡± I said. ¡°I will make it worth the wait.¡±


    The group nodded, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. They seemed willing to give me the time I needed.


    I excused myself, retreating back into the tunnels. It was time to get back to work. The tunnel to my office still had a long way to go, but I was making progress. And the surprise I had in store for the group¡­ might change a lot of things.


    The week passed in a comfortable, if somewhat monotonous, routine. I dedicated myself to my training, pushing my body to its limits, then allowing it to recover. Slowly but surely, I began to adapt. The exhaustion that had plagued me after my interaction with the System began to lessen.


    My efficiency improved dramatically. Initially, I could only work for about twenty-five minutes before needing to rest for nearly an hour and a half, a ratio of one part work to three parts rest. Now, I could work for thirty minutes and only needed another thirty to recover. A fifty-fifty split. A worthy advancement.


    But I felt I had reached a plateau. My current physical limitations were holding me back. I needed more mana shards, a lot of them, to consult with the System about everything related to my gift, my physical condition, and how to safely advance without closing off any potential paths. That would be a long, complex conversation. And it would cost a fortune in shards.


    But for now, the tunnels were ready. Not just one, but two. One leading directly to the building where my office was located, branching vertically to all five floors via a set of enclosed, reinforced vertical stone stairs. A perfectly safe access point, one that those damn crocs couldn¡¯t reach.


    The other tunnel led directly to the Rat Warrens. I had even expanded the space near the dungeon entrance, creating a small, safe chamber. While I was at it, I made sure to gather all those tiny shards scattered around the area. I still didn¡¯t know what they were for, or if they have an actual use. That said, I wasn¡¯t aware if larger shards could be used for anything other than interacting with the System and acquiring gifts. There had to be more. That was yet another topic for future discussion with the System. Another expense.


    But that particular problem would eventually solve itself. We had a rather large hunting ground, and I could always create a suitable, safe entrance and exit for us to leave the instance and return later without having to deal with the pesky reptiles roaming around.


    I had made the group wait long enough. I would have loved to show them a third tunnel, one leading directly to the border of the instance, but I had told them it would take around a week, and I had reached my current limit when it came to sustaining my gift. It was time to show them what I could do, to demonstrate that their trust, and their investment of two hundred mana shards, had been worthwhile.


    I made my way back to the camp, the familiar smell of alligator jerky greeting me. The group was gathered around the fire, their faces etched with a mixture of boredom and anticipation.


    ¡°Vincent!¡± Gareth exclaimed as I approached. ¡°You¡¯re back. It¡¯s been almost a week.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I said, smiling. ¡°But I told you it would be worth the wait.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± Elara said, her eyes narrowed with curiosity. ¡°What have you been up to?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been busy,¡± I replied, gesturing towards the tunnels. ¡°I have something to show you.¡±


    I led them through the twisting corridors, back towards the entrance to the Rat Warrens. The group followed me, their expressions a mixture of confusion and excitement.


    As we reached the entrance chamber, I stopped and gestured towards a newly opened passage in the wall. It was a long, smooth corridor, the stone walls looking almost polished. The light from the fungal growths in the Warrens, far in the distance, reflected off the surface, creating an almost ethereal glow.


    The group stared at the corridor, their mouths agape.


    ¡°What¡­ how¡­?¡± Finn stammered, his eyes wide with disbelief.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been working on my gift,¡± I said, my smile widening. ¡°It allows me to reshape stone.¡±


    I stepped into the corridor, inviting them to follow. They hesitated for a moment, then cautiously followed me into the newly created passage.


    As they walked through the corridor, they ran their hands along the smooth walls, their expressions filled with awe.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ incredible,¡± Elara murmured. ¡°It¡¯s like walking through a palace.¡±


    ¡°And it leads directly to the Rat Warrens?¡± Gareth asked, his eyes narrowing.


    ¡°It does,¡± I confirmed. ¡°And I¡¯ve even expanded the entrance chamber, making it a safer area in case you need to prepare before going in or settle things when you come out. If anything goes wrong you just jump over those¡­¡± I pointed to some table shaped stone slabs, ¡°and the rats can¡¯t get you.¡±


    We reached the end of the corridor, emerging into the expanded chamber near the dungeon entrance. The group looked around, taking in the changes. The rough, uneven walls had been smoothed and reinforced, creating a much more stable and secure environment. And the slabs were as high as their chests, enough for them to jump and climb, but not for the rats to do so. I think.


    They then looked back at me, their eyes filled with a mixture of awe, confusion, and¡­ perhaps a hint of fear. I liked that look.


    I smiled, meeting their gazes. ¡°There you go,¡± I said, gesturing towards the dungeon entrance. ¡°All set. Now, who wants to go hunt some rats?¡±