Chương 68: Forty One

'HeeLlo… NeIcee… WeAthARE… WeE… ARE… HAvIINg… TOdAIY…' Bob frowned at his latest – ghastly – attempt at conversation. Silencing a few unconscious thoughts about changes he could make moving forward as he finally let go of the Skill. His latest attempts, again, resulting in nothing. Then he sat back within his silver and copper strewn room with an un-uttered sigh; deciding it was time to make some hard decisions. It had been over a week since he'd acquired 'Haunting Whispers'.

His near constant practice with the ability had it hitting level ten before the end of the second day. Something which would have occurred even sooner if each use hadn't cost him two mana. Not that it really mattered. As all that would have done is made him disappointed a day earlier than he otherwise would have been. His first evolutionary choices were extremely limited. Bob only being shown 'Greater Haunting Whispers (E)' and the horrifying Trait-Skill option of 'Talking Mind (E)'.

Something which appeared to simply create voices inside your head. Apparently, the system now offering mental illnesses as well as Cronenbergian body modifications on its menu. Obviously, he hadn't had much interest in either. Choosing instead to see if other options would appear for him after further effort. And, on the plus side, they had. Him managing to add an additional choice not a day later. On the down side, that choice, 'Horrid Wailing (E)', didn't seem to be going in the right direction.

Nor had he managed to gain access to another evolutionary option in the near-week since. It starting to become hard to justify spending the majority of his time and mana on making spooky ghost noises. Frankly, it was becoming hard to justify spending any more of his time and mana on the 'Illusionist' path in general. The Class and the Skills it focused on simply not ticking all the boxes he needed them to. The past week hadn't been solely spent leveling 'Haunting Whispers', after all.

He'd also invested a considerable amount of time attempting to create more 'Combat Worthy' Illusions. Skills which could blind his enemies' senses, or cause them to attack their fellow crabs, or perhaps even do direct harm to themselves. Unfortunately, his daily attempts only resulted in further instances of bright lights and loud noises. F-Rank Illusion Skills seeming to have something of a theme.

Admittedly it was hard to tell what some of them might turn into once he'd evolved them a few times, but he wasn't sure he wanted to go through all that effort just to lock himself into a C-Ranked Class. Especially when it was a C-Rank Class that seemed unlikely to be particularly helpful in his present situation. The problem was, what to do now. In an attempt to level either 'Lesser Crushing Tongue' or 'Toothless Grasp' he'd already drawn every crab in the Manor below D-Rank up to their deaths.

Unfortunately, none of them managed to do the trick. At this point, Bob simply coming to accept that there was some other requirement he wasn't meeting. Something beyond experience that was needed before they could advance to the next rank. At first, he thought it might be his own ranking. That perhaps, due to their very nature, they couldn't become D-Rank until he did.

This theory was blown out of the water, however, once he sheepishly remembered that he'd gotten the E-Ranked 'Toothless Grasp' while still in bag-form. After that, he'd winnowed down all the other factors until he was only left with one real possibility. Which was that they were being affected by the same issue that was also affecting everything else in his life. The issue which evolving these Skills was supposed to at least partially mitigate. That being his less than fantastic Strength score.

He'd already seen other Skill evolutions which asked for certain attributes. The requirements for 'Mindful Evasion' having been fifty points in each of his 'Mental' Stats, for example. So, he supposed it was possible that every evolution of his Trait-Skills required a physical stat total he just wasn't hitting. Unfortunately, if true, this was a fairly serious issue. As he genuinely had no idea how to increase it any further.

Bob being forced to consider choosing the D-Ranked 'Deep-Sea Hunter' Class as a possible option. As, while it was a rank lower than 'Illusionist', it might actually give him what he needed to get past this present hurdle. In fact, there was only one thing he wanted to try before he was going to be forced to sit down and seriously consider the idea, or perhaps other options for gaining a 'Strength' focused Class.

And that was attempting to create a Skill from the only other path of 'magic' he might have any idea of how to perform. That being the path of magic that turned him into his own mini-Tardis. He'd considered the idea before, obviously. Being cast away from your own world and forced to live as luggage in a new one making the idea of 'Spatial' magic quite appealing. However, he'd never really thought it to be a viable option. Unlike with 'Lifeless Disguise', 'Empty Vault' had been a one and done activation.

It didn't even manifest any noticeable emotions for him to mimic. Simply making him feel uncomfortably 'full' for a moment before the mana within him seemed to fold and bend itself into the state that the Trait required. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. This, obviously, didn't really give him much to go on as far as attempting to create a new Skill.

The only reason he was even willing to try being desperation and his new level of comfort in manipulating mana. Well, that and a theory which had recently been floating around his head. Every time he chose a Trait, it always specified that it would allow him further access to Traits and Skills of the same path. He hadn't thought of it at first, considering their differing names.

But, given that he'd created his first bit of 'magic' by copying how 'Lifeless Disguise' worked, the 'Illusion' path might just be the 'Sapient' version of the 'Mind Control' path. If nothing else, that would explain how quickly he was managing to pick the Skills up. Him having over a half-dozen at his disposal now. And, if that was the case, then perhaps the same might be true for 'Spatial' Skills. Or, whatever alternate version of such 'people' were allowed to use.

Admittedly, it was a slightly tenuous hope to grasp onto; but it wasn't like he had a whole lot else to shoot for anyway. Plus, at least had some idea of what he was supposed to do. Which would put it far ahead of his less-than-successful attempts to cast 'magic missile'. Mind made up, as Bob waited for his mana to recover, he also started planning out how his attempt should go. Trying to decide if he wanted to add any emotional components. Or modify how he 'drew' the mana out from within him in the first place.

Feeling unsure which parts of his former process were specific to 'Illusion' path Skills and which were standard for all types of magic. Eventually, once his reserves were a little over half-full, Bob decided he was finally ready to make an attempt. Beginning to slowly glide his way downstairs towards the master bedroom. Figuring he would stick with his 'form and cast' method in the beginning. Far preferring to use the roof-crabs as guinea pigs, rather than himself.

After he'd arrived and spent a few minutes and mana using 'Lifeless Disguise' to stutter-step himself into a good spot, Bob selected his victim. A larger greenish-brown roof-crab that appeared to be approaching E-Rank. Obviously having fed well on its brothers and sisters. And, most importantly, one who currently seemed averse to going anywhere anytime soon. With a stationary target found, Bob settled in.

Entering a near meditative state as he did his best to recall the sensations which occurred upon choosing his most recent trait. Drawing on his mana as he pondered how to replicate the odd, indigestion-like feeling which had swelled up within him immediately upon selection. Given the lack of emotion present on activation – and his own lack of internal organs – he figured it was best to assume that this feeling was in some way connected to the use of 'Spatial' Skills.

Each path of 'magic' seeming to have its own strange list of requirements it needed to function. He began by simply 'filling' himself with as much mana as possible. It didn't take long for him to realize that wouldn't work, however. His mana had already been stored inside him in the first place. Moving it from one area to another within his own body wasn't going to somehow suddenly increase the space it took up within him. And that was if it actually 'took up' any space in the first place.

Mana wasn't like water, or air. It was… something else. Something he didn't really have words for. Its manipulation seeming somehow both alien and instinctual. Perhaps due in part to him, as a creature, likely requiring it to simply exist. No. The amount of mana wasn't what caused the sensation that had appeared inside of him. Rather what was happening to that mana. Bob allowed most of the gathered energy to drain back to his core. Only holding onto about as much mana as went into 'Distant Temptation'.

Hoping he might be lucky enough to craft another E-Rank on his first try. From there began a process which lasted several hours. The crab Bob had so painstakingly sought out disappearing around ten to fifteen minutes in. He pulled at the mana. Tugged at it. Tried to press and bend and stretch it out to make it bigger; all to no avail. The energy, as it sat within him, felt eminently immutable. Even though he knew that it wasn't.

Even though he himself had spent the last week 'kneading' emotions into it as he crafted illusions. Even though he had distinctly felt it 'balloon' within him as it remade his now far-more-spacious interior. He stopped for a moment. Trying figure out what he was doing wrong. To understand how he was supposed to mold his energy into an expansive force. Eventually realizing that the problem was him trying to 'mold' it in the first place.

After his 'kneading' method had paid off with illusion Skills, Bob had unconsciously begun to think of mana as something he was almost physically manipulating. His mental image that of a pair of ghostly, immaterial hands. Ones which formed the illusive energy between them before casting it out into the world. But that obviously wasn't true. Everything he was doing to the mana was done mentally. Bob simply pushing his intent upon the energy inside him.

There was no need to limit himself to what he could physically accomplish with a pair of hands. Especially when, without them, it seemed almost simple to achieve the sensation he was chasing. Bob turned his attention back to the energy inside himself. But instead of pulling and tugging at its exterior, he dove within. Placing himself at its center. Before then pushing outwards. It was hard, at first. Little bits of it kept squiggling back in, the mana not wanting to be separated in such a way.

Eventually, however, he got the mental imagery right. Forcing an empty globe to expand within the little ball of magic. Causing it to quickly balloon outwards before seeming to 'impact' walls that he never realized had surrounded it. The mana beginning to push back against him for the first time. Despite what seemed like obvious success, however, Bob found himself frowning.

Because, even though he'd already hit a 'wall', he hadn't yet felt the 'rising indigestion' sensation that had occurred upon taking the 'Empty Vault' Trait. Still, the solution seemed fairly simple. Bob taking a metaphorical deep breath before he began redoubling his efforts. Pushing against the 'barrier' with all of his mental strength. As he began feeling the slightest sensation of pain build up within him, Bob was initially enthusiastic.

Seeing it as a sign of success and adding an extra bit of 'oomph' to his next attempt. He didn't realize that the tearing sensation bore little resemblance to what he'd previously felt until he was already committed. Allowed only a brief moment of uncertainty before he sensed the weave of mana he was manipulating rip within him. Something which resulted in immediate and devastating consequences. Alert! - 68 Health! Bob's existence fractured.

His mind momentarily overcome by the horrifyingly antithetical sensation of both imploding and exploding simultaneously. Before then, for only the second time in his existence here, things cut to black. The last image to flash before what remained of his singular, jeweled eye being an alert from the System. Ding!