Chương 13: Chapter Twelve

Bob wracked his mind as he watched the slime solidify itself on the stone beside him. He couldn't move. He had no idea how flimsy whatever he'd lodged his eye on was and felt terrified he'd fall to the nameless depths below if he so much as tried to shift in place. The slime, unfortunately, was not so encumbered. As he watched the outline of a tentacle rise in his periphery, Bob's thoughts ran in circles, desperately searching for some way out.

Unfortunately, as the limb reached its peak, what half-baked plans he'd constructed fell apart; all options seemingly depleted. In the end, with the tension of the coming strike filling the air, Bob unconsciously grasped on to the last things available to him. The closest things he had to the magic needed to get out of this situation alive. His skills. Ding! Taunt (E) has leveled up! 2 - 3 Ding! Dodge (E) has leveled up! 3 – 4 What happened next occurred in only a split second.

Bob's own mind barely able to grasp the events even as he was going through them. First, the Slime's blow suddenly increased phenomenally in speed and power. A far greater portion of itself being sent along for the ride than in previous attacks. The effectiveness of 'Taunt' also evident in the slightly louder screams of ' Food!' and ' Hungry!' filling his mind during the process. At the same time, his bracer kicked mightily through the water; managing to just barely rise above the now slightly-less-accurate attack.

The immense force of the strike only adding to his momentum. After that came the least clearly remembered portion of the event. As, when the thin cord serving as his bag's cinch somehow managed to judo-throw both him and his weighty bracer to the other side of the stalagmite, no one was more surprised than Bob. A close second, however, would go to the slime whose wild swing had completely missed the target it had been aiming for.

A large portion of itself slamming into and molding around the other stalagmite; leaving it momentarily immobile. As Bob landed – directly in the spot he'd previously been so desperate to leave – he didn't waste any time; immediately charging back down the path before it could pull itself together. Peeking behind himself, he could see that the slime was moving slower than usual. Seeming at least slightly cautious of the yawning abyss beneath it as it re-balanced itself.

He was already at the end of the trash-strewn corridor by the time it started to transfer to another stalagmite; by which point, it had no way of making up lost ground. It seemed almost simple to lose the creature on his way back, even with the massive amount of adrenaline, or whatever the 'living sack' equivalent was, running through his veins. His previous route was easy to find given that he'd chosen a path through the most notably destroyed stones there.

And before he knew it, he'd made it back to the spot of the original attack. As he spotted the necklace, the more conservative parts of his mind screamed for him to continue on. To not endanger himself when he had an unbeatable and unquestionably furious enemy an unknown distance behind him. The rest of him refused to listen. Increasing his speed as much as possible in the run up, before again slapping the two pieces of his gauntlet together to leap through the water.

His form sailing just a few inches shy of the dangling treasure. Which left it easily within reach of his eye and tassel. As he wrapped himself around the item, Bob felt momentarily terrified that it wouldn't give. That he'd be left hanging there like some freshly-caught fish, waiting for the slime's eventual return. These fears were quickly erased when the pendant's long-beleaguered chain snapped almost instantly.

Bob's instincts nearly forcing him to gobble it up before he hit the ground, canceling out the message window before it could even form. Focused on getting out of the reef of stalagmites as quickly as possible. He didn't see any other signs of the slime throughout the rest of his panicked journey. Though whether this was due to it giving up or him simply outpacing it was unknown. And also uncared about. Bob simply being ecstatic to no longer hear its slow, toneless voice echoing in his head.

As he reached the edge of the reef, Bob immediately charged another twenty or so feet up the crater's slope; now feeling much leerier of standing within striking range of any of the stalagmites. Once there however, he turned around. Struggling to organize his thoughts while he stared out over the place which had nearly ended his life at least three times in the last ten minutes. He was shocked to realize he'd actually made it out of that situation completely unharmed.

Though, as he looked down at the pock-marked, acid-burned sides of his bracer, Bob was forced to admit that this very nearly wasn't the case. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. The slime had absolutely every advantage while in the tight, trash-filled reef's corridors. It was silent, nearly invisible and – at least when compared to him – decently mobile even when refusing to touch the floor.

A mannerism Bob still found confusing, but one he certainly wouldn't be complaining about. Especially given how many times it could have killed him had it been less concerned with staying in its perch. Heck, it even seemed to have a sophisticated form of communication. Being able to telepathically put words into someone else's head was an impressive ability; even if that particular slime's vocabulary left something to be desired.

It even served double-duty as something of an offensive attack; at least if Bob's attempts to scrub those moments from his memory were any evidence. Really, Bob should be counting his blessings that he made it out of that situation alive. Especially considering he actually had something to show for it. Bob couldn't help the poorly-executed grin his 'mouth' attempted to form into. Nor the prideful feeling that was beginning to swell up within him.

While he may have been forced to flee under threat of superior arms, Bob refused to list this encounter in anyplace other than the 'victory' column. Which might well have been its first entry. At least in this world. He savored the moment. Basking in joyful anticipation of multiple levels as, with a thought, he reopened his previously dismissed messages. Which, of course, is when reality reasserted itself. Ding! Congratulations! You have acquired your first 'Treasure'!

'Treasures' are items crafted from precious materials whose value may be worth more than the price of their components. The system will attempt to appraise and rank these items based on material worth, level of craftsmanship, and acclaim held in the eyes of fellow sapients. You have acquired a ' Damaged Gilded Pendant (F)'! Value is appraised at: 3 copper pieces! Next Level: 2. 24/2. 55 Silver Coins Bob's spirits slowly dropped during the reading of the message.

Starting out near-euphoric, before steadily collapsing into something approaching defeated resignation. After he finished reading the final line, he silently reached into himself. Pulling out his first 'Treasure'. As he was finally able to give it more than a cursory glance, Bob felt a hint of embarrassment begin to form within him. The 'tarnish' beginning to cover the piece was actually where the thin gilding had worn off; revealing iron with hints of rust. The 'precious stones' obviously bits of polished glass.

Most of them missing or sitting broken in their housing. And really, now that he'd had a moment, what had he expected to find in the dung-heap of a small-town set in a pseudo-medieval time period? Frankly, he should consider himself lucky they even had costume jewelry. And he might well have. Had he not nearly died in order to obtain it. All of his prior pride had faded away. The only evidence of its existence the still-bitter taste which lingered in Bob's mouth.

He briefly considered just tossing it to the ground, three Copper not really meaning much to him at this point, but eventually forced himself to store it safely back within him. He wasn't in a position where he could afford to throw away experience points. No matter how little or how tainted with disappointment. After that, he just stood there for a while. Staring out at what was admittedly the most scenic landfill he'd ever seen as he attempted to marshal his thoughts.

Before then giving that up, and throwing an absolute shit-fit. He screamed, he cried; he awkwardly picked up nearby stones and hurled them weakly down at the stalagmites below him. He vented the pain, frustration and despair that this world had inflicted on him throughout his existence here. And he did it all in a bumbling silence which only served to heighten his aggravation. Eventually, he stopped.

Though without even the satisfaction of exhausting himself in his tantrum; his artificial body feeling fresh as ever. Instead, he'd simply been forced to face the pointlessness of it. He gathered himself quietly, pointedly ignoring the stalagmites as he gave one last glance up at civilization laying just beyond his reach. Before then turning around to face the other direction. The reef was worthless to him. Worse than that, it was a genuine and concerning danger.

No amount of possible pocket-change found within worth the threat of being dissolved or sealed for eternity at the bottom of a landfill. The best he'd probably be able to do was make it to level nine anyway. Which would only have bumped his stats by one and, maybe, made him an inch or so longer. The chances of him scrounging five silver from that deathtrap without being eaten by slimes seeming slim to none. Hell, even getting the thirty-some copper he'd need to level once was a reach.

And if that was the case, he might as well head towards the shallows now. He was quite a bit bigger than the last time he tried to press through. Especially when kitted out in his new, hefty suit of leather armor. He doubted he'd be lucky enough to find a way out right away, but as long as he reached some wall or edge of the lake, he could start following it around, hoping to find a passage up. And after that, hopefully find his way to the village outside.

Even if only to skulk in the shadows, hiding in ratholes and stealing spare change. Before leaving the area entirely however, Bob decided there was one more thing he needed to check. Opening up his status page and quickly skipping to his 'Skills' section; hoping to answer an important question. Skills Active – (2) Taunt (E) Level: 3 Dodge (E) Level: 4 Inactive – (1) Bite (F) Level: 5 Change Active/Inactive Skills?

Yes / No Had he lungs, Bob would have let out a sigh of relief upon seeing he was still in possession of all of his skills. While 'Bite' might be F-ranked, it was also his only offensive ability; as well as being his go-to move whenever he needed to pick something up. He'd only chosen to replace it in the heat of the moment because it was the first one to appear on the screen.

Though the choice had ended up being a lucky one, given how his fight with the slime had ended, it certainly wasn't due to anything approaching forethought. That said, after a moment of consideration, he decided not to switch it back to active.

'Taunt' had proven its usefulness in the previous encounter. And the ability to potentially interrupt his opponents – especially while they were about to kill him – seemed more useful than one which would allow him to futilely gnaw on their ankles. Anything 'Bite' would be useful in dealing with, would most likely also wait patiently while he equipped the skill and recovered from the micro-coma it sent him into.

Finished with his inspection and his decisions regarding skills, Bob headed back off into the dismal murk. Leaving behind the sun-lit wonder of the reef as he once more attempted to discern which path led the most 'uphill'. Preparing himself for the long and boring journey ahead of him.