Chương 31: Chapter Thirty

Bob glared down at what appeared to be the patinaed ruin of a large copper lamp. One probably worth at least a few silver in raw weight alone. And yet another item that would be absolutely impossible to squeeze within his relatively narrow form. The third floor was actually proving quite a bit easier to handle than the floors below. Though that might be at least partially due to the multiple migrations downwards that all the recent crab-death had caused.

Unfortunately, it was also, to this point, quite a bit less profitable. With Bob already having cleared out half the floor. Something which amounted to three experience points and a useless lump of metal. He hadn't even managed to get the final level on 'Constrict'; the tiny crabs he'd killed apparently not being enough of a challenge. To be fair though, this was also the area closest to the stairs. It was likely that a good number of the nearby crabs had been lured to the floor below by the massacre.

All that were left being tiny loners apparently too scared to even fight for scraps. The majority of the floor's crabs – and treasures – were located on the other side of the building. In fact, were he to be more accurate, they were even more firmly clumped together than that. Something which was actually beginning to look like a bit of an issue. The lamp he'd found was one of three 'treasures' which appeared to be on this level. The other two seeming to be located in the same room on the other end of the floor.

A room which, oddly enough, was also playing host to five moderately sized crabs. Each appearing to be in the lower-middle of 'E' rank. Probably about on terms with his last victim on the second story. He had no idea why they were all clustered there. But they were. And they didn't seem to have any current intentions of leaving. None having strayed outside during the mild ruckus he'd been making on the other side of the building, at least.

Though, to be fair, it hadn't exactly taken him long to deal with the floor's other occupants. Minus the five, the rest of the third story was basically empty. Just one more tiny crab Bob was already preparing to use 'Taunt' on to bring to his current location. This one, however, he didn't intend to kill so quickly. He was getting that treasure. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. But, that said, he didn't exactly feel like trying to face five potentially lethal opponents down at once.

So, it was time to spread them out. Ding! Taunt (E) has leveled up! 9 – 10 Bob mildly grimaced as the increase to tenth level didn't instigate an evolution. He'd more or less figured it was going to take beyond ten for rank 'E'. Having already killed a crab past the two-digit mark had made that pretty clear. It didn't make it any less disappointing, however. Still, as he watched his target begin to slowly make its way towards him, part of Bob couldn't help but be amused.

If nothing else than by how utterly his opinion on both 'Provocation' and 'Mind Control' abilities had flipped over the last day or so. Where once 'Taunt' had been hated and 'Treasure's Allure' had been considered a last-choice trait pick, now they felt utterly indispensable to both his daily life and his combat style. Without one, he'd be dead. And without the other, he'd likely wish he was dead. Forced to wait for what might have been days for the monsters to spread back out again.

Though as the tiny crab grew closer, Bob had to admit that, as far as preferences go, something else was still beating the both of them out. Something he was very much hoping to evolve in the next twenty or so minutes. The tiny crab marched to its doom much like all its siblings had. Arms raised, body stiff and enthusiastic. Displaying as much physical excitement as you were ever likely to see out of an arthropod.

Enough that Bob would admit that he felt the slightest touches of guilt as he wrapped his coils around the tiny creature. Before brushing them away as he lifted the crustacean through the water to face him. As it began to scream, it started fruitlessly attempting to pinch at the material making up his tongue. Bob briefly considered giving it a squeeze to make it stop, but decided against it.

The crab was too small to deal him actual damage and – while he was absolutely going to kill it within the next few seconds – he didn't really have it in him to pointlessly torture something. Even something trying desperately to maim him. Besides, it didn't need to be in pain to draw its siblings out. Sheer, incandescent rage would do the trick well enough. Bob 'watched' as the crabs within the manor immediately began going wild. Feeling far less concerned over their temper-tantrums than he had previously.

The floor directly below him was mostly clear, the one above him filled with only a smattering of smaller crabs he could kill with ease. The only real concern, outside of the crabs he was actively attempting to draw out, were the larger crabs on the bottom level. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Luckily, the four largest specimens showed far less interest in the 'call to arms' than their smaller siblings.

The most active among them being the Crab Behind the Wall, which – while always very vocal – still never moved from its location. And, given that the rest seemed to have trouble finding even the first staircase up without cephalopodan help, he wasn't terribly worried. Unfortunately, while he was content with the pace – or lack thereof – of most of the crabs heading in his direction, there was one group whose movements left him frustrated.

Those being, of course, the ones he was attempting to shift in the first place. They had obviously reacted to the alarm call, individual 'blips' seeming to bump and crash into each other as they panicked and wildly ran around their room. But none of them seemed to be making any attempt to leave it. Bob almost absentmindedly crushed the crab in his coils, ignoring the single experience he gained from his efforts.

It obviously wasn't helping him with his current objective, and he didn't need any of the massive crustaceans downstairs to prove him wrong by suddenly developing a sense of direction. After that, with no more enemies anywhere nearby, Bob almost casually strolled out the door. As he walked through the halls, there was a comfort level filling him that had previously been missing. A strange sense of 'ownership' as he made his way towards his soon-to-be victims.

A feeling that the manor was his and the crabs were merely interlopers about to be quite rudely dealt with. Bob, during his human life, had never put much stock in 'male machismo'. He'd never been terribly competitive or inclined to partake in the many and varied bits of 'pecking order' nonsense most young men found themselves shoved into. The closest he'd ever been to a fight being watching his older brother be chased down by a group of three other teens. Ones he later found out the idiot had stolen drugs from.

So, he couldn't help but find himself surprised by how elated he was becoming by his latest successes. By the sense of achievement he felt from dominating his enemies. From surviving situations he had no business surviving and continuing to claim 'territory' in his private war against the local crabs. Even the octopus situation felt more like a victory now, rather than a slim escape. The experience netting him a deeper understanding of his Class Skill as well as an extremely useful ability.

An ability which he had used to more-or-less lay waste to the last floor-and-a-half. Something he was quite determined to continue doing. As he reached the end of the hallway, the occupied room being in the middle of the hall around the corner, Bob briefly stopped. Allowing himself a moment to fully analyze the situation and make a few plans before moving forward. Despite his slightly cocky attitude, he remained well aware that facing five such opponents at once would be a losing battle at best.

After picking out a few quick locations to hide in should he need to retreat, as well as checking the areas around the stairways both up and down should things go terribly bad, Bob then waited until all five crabs were as far from the doorway as possible before peeking his boxy form around the corner. Only to find that all his preparations were absolutely pointless. The room the crabs occupied was obvious from the moment he rounded the corner.

The walls surrounding the double-wide doorway elaborately carved with great arches and flowing, indecipherable lettering. Far away from the bland, box-like frames leading into the other rooms. But, more importantly – and the reason why Bob followed up his 'peek' by beginning to calmly walk down the rest of the hallway – the obviously opulent room had something else over the multiple 'unworthies' he had previously passed. Existing doors.

As Bob got closer, he could see that the massive things, each having to be over nine-feet tall, were actually made of wood. Whatever had managed to preserve them over the untold centuries still allowing the beautiful grain to be seen after all this time. They also, he noticed, had handles. Ones well within the current range of his reach. As he arrived in front of the doorway however, he found himself hesitating. And not simply because of what might be on the other side.

He really wasn't all that worried about the crabs. Even if they all charged him at once, he had more than enough speed and space to make it to a convenient hiding spot and activate 'Lifeless Disguise'. The worst-case scenario being him ending up stuck in a corner somewhere for five or six hours. No, instead he found his singular eye tracing the rows and rows of mystical lettering which seemed to crawl around the edges of each ancient piece of wood.

Wondering if all of them were there simply to enhance its durability. Or if perhaps the owner had wanted to secure this, obviously important, room from more than just time. Bob hoped, should his worries prove correct, that any additional enchantments would simply involve some sort of locking or warding spell. Something to prevent unauthorized access by the staff you'd need to run a place this size. Unfortunately, He was well aware that things could be far, far worse.

He had no idea what the culture or history of this society once looked like. And he didn't want to imagine what nasty things might be put in place should they have once been barbarous slavers or power-hungry oligarchs. That said, Bob imagined that if there were any offensive enchantments applied to the doorway, random bumbling crabs would have somehow activated them during the period of their chitinous rule.

Leaving them unopened now simply due to a lack of appropriate appendages and significant enough intelligence. The more logical portions of his mind still told him he should just pass it by. Or at the very least leave it for later. Coming back once he'd managed to divest the upper floors of what few defenders they still had available. But a slightly larger portion found itself unwilling.

A portion admittedly spearheaded by a bit of himself utterly consumed by the thought of what might be precious enough to hide behind enchanted doors. All given evidence – the location, decoration and added enchantments – pointed towards this being the master bedroom. Or, perhaps something equivalent to a 'Lords Study'. And, ever since arriving at that conclusion, Bob's mind had been inundated with thoughts of what that might mean. Thoughts of jewelry. Of hidden caches and tacky displays of wealth and power.

Of gold. His current size constraints made the idea of higher-value items especially alluring. If the exchange rate held up, even a single gold coin would be enough to launch him a couple levels. A temptation he found too heady to push aside till later. Still, as he reached out towards the handles, he was cautious enough to at least do so with the mangled lump of silver clutched in his grip. Hoping that one degree of separation might lessen any effects should Bob be horribly, horribly wrong.

At first, Bob did no more than gingerly tap it. Tongue quickly jerking back after the tiny impact; half-expecting to be dazzled by a magical lightshow. When, instead, the hallway remained completely unchanged – and Bob unscorched – his worries began to fade. It took a couple more attempts before he actually got the right leverage – Bob standing as far away from the door as he could during the process – but eventually, he caught the handle enough to fully pull it down.

The motion feeling as smooth as if it had been installed yesterday. And, with the slightest bit of effort, the door was pushed open.