Chương 12: Chapter: Eleven

Luckily, Bob's stunned state had more to do with him than any special ability on the slime's part. Outside of it, you know, being an abomination in the eyes of God and man. This meant that he lost little more than a moment – spent marveling in horror at the glistening mass's newfound elocution skills – before swiftly continuing his escape. The slime an uncomfortably close distance behind him. And unfortunately, still very vocal.

'Eat… Hungry…" The slime somehow spoke into his head; while at the same time transferring its body from one stalagmite to another in pursuit. Bob did his best to ignore the voice. As well as the implied psychic connection to an undulating blob of underwater goo. His mind focused instead on turning himself right to avoid the slime cutting him off. Something his 'armor' was making almost hilariously difficult.

Bob considered trying to abandon it, but quickly realized that by the time he'd manage to squeeze his way out, the slime would already be halfway through digesting him. Instead, he began trying to violently jerk his front half to the side while continuing to inch away; working to both mildly alter his direction and begin further tearing the material of the bracer. Eventually breaking away enough to enable a halfway decent right turn. Just in time for the slime to wind up another attempt to smash him into the dirt.

Whether it be due to the damage he'd caused to the bracer, or simply bad luck, Bob's third desperate attempt to jump away wasn't quite as successful as his first two. Managing to leap up and slightly to the side, but not enough so that the massive downward swing didn't graze him. The blow hit with far more force than Bob expected, the impact blasting him to the side and sending him into a wild spin through the water. Though, to his mildly maligned armor's credit, dealing him no actual damage.

At least according to the system. Luckily, it also sent him a decent span away from his pursuer. Even if he felt hard-pressed to take advantage of that fact in his disoriented and, strangely, nauseous state. Not that this was the proper time to indulge in curiosity for his anatomical anomalies. As he regained his bearings, Bob could see the slime was still after him. It seemed oddly unwilling to touch the ground, traveling from spire to spire; clinging tightly to each one before letting go.

It only had two more to travel before it would be on him. Which meant very little time for hesitation. Bob acted quickly, making a choice which could quite literally be life or death. He opened his menu. Ding! Evasion Path Skill Acquired: Dodge (E)'Oh, thank God.' Bob whispered to himself. Before instantly being reminded that good news in this world doesn't travel alone. And is rarely in pleasant company. Ding!' Dodge (E)' Cannot be currently be used as your Active Skill Roster is full.

Replace Skill in Active Skill Roster with ' Dodge (E)'? Yes / No Yes! Add Dodge to my skill list! Yes! Bob screamed internally as he watched the slime move to the next stalagmite. Which Skill would you like to replace on your Active Skill Roster? Bite (F) Level: 5 Taun - Bite! Just get rid of Bite you worthless, piece of shit system! Quickly! Bob screamed as he began to awkwardly inch away while still staring at his screen.

Only to instantly stiffen, an alien and effusive mixture of pleasure and pain ripping through his body. It was like the pins-and-needles feeling of a limb falling asleep, mixed with the pleasant tingle of a deep, blood-rushing morning stretch. Only molded into a full-body sensation and multiplied by about a hundred. For the already off-balance and disoriented Bob, the sensation proved more than enough to knock him for a loop.

His body falling bonelessly, or at least more bonelessly than usual, to the ground beneath him. Ding! Skill swap successful! Dodge (E) has replaced Bite (F) in your Active Skill List! The alert managed to break Bob out of the swoon that the Skill change had slapped him into. He looked up just as the window began to fade away. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Only to be replaced by the slimy appendage of his would-be murderer.

Time seemed to slow for a moment as the tentacle descended upon him, his desperate desire to escape seemingly magnified into something more as he felt the fresh activation of a new Skill rush through his system. Ding! Dodge (E) has leveled up! 1 – 2 Bob was once again blown off to the side, though this time only by the displacement of water from where the slime impacted the ground; having managed to shift aside with barely a moment to spare.

By the time he'd gotten himself back to his 'feet', the slime was nearly prepared to once again crash into the ground. Only now, Bob was far less worried. As the swing began to descend again, Bob found a fresh part of his brain quickly deciphering what angle it would take and where the blow would land. Making it feel almost effortless to – with a quick kick from one side of his bracer – nudge himself ever so slightly out of the way.

The difference between his own feeble attempts to dodge the slime's attacks and those assisted by the skill were like night and day. The ability even seemed to come with the sense of calm required to appreciably put it to use. Which was fantastic. Since non-skill-assisted Bob would be a bit of a mess right now. Potentially literally. Ding! Dodge (E) has leveled up! 2 – 3 As the window cleared, Bob realized that his last dodge had taken him out of the slime's current reach.

A conclusion it had also come to, if its attempts to swing over to the next stalagmite were any indication. He took this as a sign that it was time to move, quickly inching away from the monster. His new skill sadly offering no bonuses to overall speed. The brief bout of combat had entirely destroyed his sense of direction, having no idea whether he was now heading out, or further into the large stone reef.

Something which weighed on his mind considering the unknown number of slimes, or who knows what else, which might be waiting nearer the center. He'd obviously underestimated the challenge rating for this area of the map and he'd really prefer not to make things worse by going any deeper. As heavy as those concerns were though, they didn't quite outweigh the massive ectoplasmic bastard currently hot on his heels.

Though their slow, ponderous chase was perhaps not quite as intense from any perspective outside his own.

'Hungry…' The blob continued to squelch into Bob's mind. Perhaps still under the illusion that he could be talked into being its next, almost certainly unsatisfactory, meal. Bob continued to ignore it, however. Concentrating on weaving a wiggling line between harder-to-mount stalagmites. The blob had shown a continued aversion to touching the ground; or even to not being fully secured around whatever perch it had chosen before attacking.

He figured his best bet was to lead it around some harder to navigate areas until it either got bored or he'd gained enough distance to make a run for it. Putting such a plan to action was easier said than done, however. He made some small progress in the beginning, but the slime's continued persistence eventually began to pay off. Patiently narrowing the distance as Bob found himself forced to slow down due to the avenues between stalagmites becoming more and more cluttered with garbage.

Something which also heightened his concerns about what direction he was traveling in. These things combined made it almost inevitable that Bob would eventually find himself in a perilous situation. This inevitability came to pass far sooner than he would have preferred, however. His most recent attempt to put an unnavigable stalagmite between them – a miserable, shattered mound covered in debris – had succeeded, causing the slime to circle around and giving him a chance to make some headway.

The problem was, the avenue down which that 'headway' needed to be made was thoroughly filled with trash. His speed being easily cut in half by the need to continually navigate around piles of garbage. And the slime slowly beginning to make up ground behind him. The situation reached a crescendo of awfulness when he found himself stopped completely.

Having navigated through countless mounds of bones and fetid waste only to find his way blocked; an unidentifiable pile of muck and filth having built up into something of a short, stubby 'wall' between stalagmites. A wall which Bob was one-hundred percent certain he couldn't crawl over. Looking back, Bob saw the slime beginning to transfer itself to another stalagmite. It only had four to go before it would be on him.

At which point he would be trapped in far more confined corridors; his ability to dodge its attacks greatly impaired. All the neighboring alleys between stalagmites were filled. A good number of them even higher than the 'wall' in front of him. He wouldn't get more than a few feet into one before the slime caught up. He also couldn't turn back. He'd be heading straight towards the slime down a path that was only marginally less debris-strewn than where he was now. He needed another option.

Bob spun his jeweled eye wildly, searching desperately around himself in hopes to find some Hail-Mary solution to his swiftly approaching problem. Instead, he found another one of those spiked-nosed skulls. This one slightly larger, sitting just to the side of the wall of debris. It looked to be planted stably into the sand and, unlike most of the surrounding garbage, rose up to about a quarter of the 'wall's' total height. It also, Bob noticed, possessed a flat, stable looking forehead.

Something which would reflect a lot more force than the loose silt beneath him. Bob quickly crawled towards the skull, his eye absently noting that the slime was already one perch closer. As he got there, Bob forced himself to calm down. He would waste far more time rushing than he would being patient with the process. Even if that little truism felt oh so terribly false with his doom quickly catching up behind him. Eventually he proved himself right, however.

His patient fiddling finally securing him in a stable position pointing roughly the right way. As he prepared for what would likely be his only go at this, given the blob swiftly closing in, Bob sent up a brief prayer that the space opposite the wall was free of debris. To waste all this energy only to end up tangled in even more garbage before the slime got to him would be an ignominious way to die.

With one last glance at his foe, who still lingered two stalagmites back, Bob shoved off the skull as hard as he could; the two sides of his bracer making an audible 'clump!' as they impacted through the water. And suddenly, he was over the wall. On the positive side of things, Bob instantly noticed as his form cleared the hurdle of refuse that his prayers had been answered. The area beyond the wall was completely clear of piled debris. On the slightly less positive side; it was also clear of everything else.

Including a floor. Bob was unfortunately not in the right state of mind to appreciate the majestic sight that was in front of him. The massive, perfect circle – drilled as it was from the sky above to some fathomless depth below – would have been considered a notable landmark for any town. A small part of him wanted to chastise the villagers above for their horrendous abuse of such a wonder. This, of course, being the only part not currently screaming.

Later, he would be mildly ashamed to admit that it was not quick thinking or fast reflexes which saved him. It was fear. His eye was, obviously, just as afraid as the rest of him. It was not, however, just as locked into the 'jump' as the rest of his body. His jewel and its tassel could move freely, being the closest thing his limbless torso had to an appendage. And, very much disliking the view right in front of it, decided to do so.

This sudden movement didn't manage to shift the rest of his body much, barely jerking at the neck of his bag as the rest of it floated towards the abyss, but it did stretch his jeweled eye briefly back out over solid land. Solid land and a cracked, jagged stalagmite only a couple of inches away. Bob didn't think. He simply smashed his eye into the nearest bit of broken limestone and sent out another prayer. Belatedly hoping a basic wish for safety couldn't be monkey-pawed as badly as his last one was.

He felt – and saw – his eye catch against the stone twice before it hit something strong enough to hold. His body, which hadn't been moving terribly fast in the first place, coming to a sudden halt before falling to hang limply at the stalagmite's side. It was during times like this that Bob missed his human anatomy the most. You don't truly appreciate how amazing having arms, hands and fingers really is until they're taken from you.

He was even starting to miss the bits which would be singularly detrimental to his current existence. Admittedly the lack of a pounding heart or pumping lungs was useful for, you know, existing under water; but it felt strange trying to pull his mind together after a stressful situation without their thumping and wheezing accompaniment.

Unfortunately, he wasn't given much time to dwell in such nostalgic thought, as just in the corner of his mostly obstructed vision, Bob saw a barely-there outline in the water mold itself around the neighboring stalagmite.' Well, fuck.'