Chương 79: BtWB Book 2 Chapter 2

Davin's body shook. His every muscle aching as he readjusted the box he was still holding in his grip, though now more because he refused to address the creature by setting it down, rather than due to any need. The mimic having horrifyingly near-entirely repaired itself over the course of the long night; him able to feel as its boards and rivets writhed underneath his fingers like living flesh. After shutting down an attempt at conversation early on, he had since refused to speak to the monster.

A choice which was made with the universal, unspoken agreement of every other living being surrounding him; both his crew and the goblins doing their best not to even acknowledge the mimic's existence. Something he was unfortunately unable to do, given the fact that he was in direct physical contact with the thing.

Unfortunately, its quick regeneration and the continued presence of the swarm around them more-or-less nixed his initial plans to destroy the beast once it stopped being useful; whatever 'agreement' he might be forced to violate be damned. And even more unfortunately, as he watched the sun slowly rise above the mountains to expose an endless insectoid horde stretching out past the horizon, Davin realized further 'negotiations' were almost certain to be necessary.

He looked out over his crew, all of them holding tightly to each other as their knees started to give out. All licking cracked lips and swallowing air down dry throats; the moisture in their bodies long since expelled as sweat over the course of the terrifying day and night. They wouldn't last long. He was the only D-rank among them, and he was only holding up as well as he was due to a lucky break with a combat Class when he was younger. His Constitution easily being double the next-highest member's score.

Soon they would start to drop from either dehydration or exhaustion; simply unable to continue standing stationary without food or water while being baked by the summer sun. Any attempts to rescue those who fainted or couldn't keep to their feet only delaying the inevitable. Davin considered trying to kill the goblins to make space for people to sit, but at this point they were probably in better fighting shape than his crew were.

The normal existence of a goblin slave likely making the situation they were currently in seem relaxing by comparison. The fact that two of the creatures still had the energy to play a silent game together – one involving eye contact and minor hand movements – seeming to verify that supposition. Davin gazing at them for a moment along with their expressionless fellows, mind half-heartedly attempting to pick out rules as fingers flashed and toes scratched points into the dirt below.

Eventually, he tore his attention away from them. Looking first at the endless swarm of monsters circling their position, then back to his exhausted crew, before finally dragging his eyes down to the creature resting in his arms. After which point, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat; forced to shout if he wanted to be heard above the clicking and hissing of the surrounding insects.

"Alright mimic!" he yelled, ignoring as the people around him jumped at the sudden sound.

"I'll admit you've got us by the balls here, so I guess it's time for us to begin those 'further negotiations' you talked about earlier. What exactly do you want in exchange for getting us out of this mess alive?" Davin pretended he didn't see the horrified looks he was being cast by the others present, as well as the multiple people speaking over themselves attempting to tell him what a 'bad idea' this was. He knew it was a bad idea.

Unfortunately, he was also responsible for making sure all the people under his command made it home alive; and he didn't see any way of doing that outside of making deals with creatures best left in storybooks. Though these obligations didn't make it any less terrifying when the seemingly inanimate object slowly came back to 'life' within his arms; its wooden form shifting in unnatural ways as the jeweled 'eye' moved to meet his own.

Nor when its haunting voice – the kind you'd expect to hear tempting children to follow it away from their Node and deep into the woods – echoed once again around them.

"I'd love to, Davin."

The last twelve or so hours had been both trying and productive. Bob's prior request that he and Davin return to their negotiations had been largely ignored over the horrendous sounds – and if the expressions of the crowd were to be believed, less than pleasant visuals – of the group's draft horses being killed and consumed. A process which ended up being rather unfortunately drawn-out, the unhitched beasts running desperately around the enclosed area as they tried to escape the pug-sized insects.

Their cries only being silenced when the monsters fully overwhelmed them. Between the terse 'Not now, box!' spat from Davin during the incident, and the obvious horror the event was inspiring in the people around him, Bob decided it might be best to refrain from any conversation for a bit. A pause which was further prolonged when, only ten or so minutes afterwards, the bugs finally breached what he later learned was an enchanted wagon. One apparently carrying an additional three goblins.

The agonizing and prolonged deaths that followed, at least when compared to those of the horses' prior, appeared to cause far less in the way of grief. In fact, the goblins surrounding him actually broke into hearty cheers when a horrific, gurgling cry in the distance finally cut out. Though these celebrations quickly ceased after Bob sensed a pulse of mana run through all seven of the humanoids.

In an instant, happy tears transformed into mournful cries; some of the smaller sapients even beginning to claw at the skin under their clothes. The areas they chose, he noticed, being the same spots that the mana entering them had pooled into. They were all eventually stopped, either by themselves or by one of their fellows standing nearby; none of the others terribly happy about being jostled in their current situation.

When asked what was going on, one of the more resigned looking goblins had explained that upon their master's death, there was a slight chance they could have been freed from bondage; standard slavery brands only allowing for one additional name to be listed as an inheritor. When asked if they had thought it was likely, the tired being had only shrugged, and replied that it had been over three months since they'd left, so the chance that someone could've 'ganked the old bitch' wasn't zero.

After that however, the goblin went silent; staring into the distance and refusing to answer further questions. Not that the humans surrounding him really seemed inclined to ask many. Bob felt tempted to speak up following that, but eventually decided not to; the chance that doing so would cause a panic seeming too high to risk. Their initial reactions had made it clear that he wasn't the only intelligent monster in town, and unfortunately, that some of his predecessors had poisoned the well prior to his coming.

Even now the people surrounding him still switched between casting fearful glances and trying to pretend he didn't exist. Men and women occasionally jerking away in terror when their skin or clothes accidently brushed up against his wooden flesh. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. The silence between them couldn't last forever, but Bob decided it might be best to let the more biologically-natured sapients be the ones to break it.

He imagined that the greater majority of them simply hoped to wait out the swarm of insects before either killing or running away from him; but that obviously wasn't going to work out the way they wished. Of course, he supposed you might not know that if you weren't privy to the same insider information that he was.

'Guard.'

'Stay.'

'Eat!'

'Guard.'

'Guard.'

'Stay.'

'Kill!'

'Protect.'

'Guard.'

'Scout.'

'Guard.'

'Kill!'

'Guard.'

'Protect.'

'Guard.'

'Patrol.'

'Guard.'

'Stay.'

'Guard.'

'Destroy!'

'Guard.'

'Protect.'

'Stay.'

'Guard.'

'Eat!'

'Guard.'

'Guard.'

'Protect.'

'Patrol.'

'Kill!'

'Stay.'

'Protect.'

'Guard.'

'Scout.'

'Guard.'

'Guard.'

'Eat!'

'Guard.'

'Guard.'

'Protect.'

'Destroy!'

'Guard.'

'Protect.'

'Stay.'

'Guard.' Unless he was reading the room wrong, the monstrous beetles still filling the area didn't plan on going anywhere, anytime soon. Still, with the mixed group of humans and goblins not currently being communicative, Bob eventually blocked out both them and the dulcet tones of the consuming swarm by vanishing within himself. Activating 'Sub-Dimensional Sight' to appear within his inner world and start making use of all the free time he suddenly had on his hands.

After all, it wasn't like he didn't have other tasks needing his attention. Surprisingly, going through his backlog of system messages took far less time than expected; most of them simply being Skill alerts. He did manage to gain an additional level for 'Dimensional Mage' due to all the bonus experience he'd gained during the fight but, much to his aggravation, no additional Classes or Titles. Still, it wasn't like he really had a deep need for them either.

It would be quite some time before he could expect to hit rank C, and while he felt a little bit awkward having it equipped, the A-ranked Title 'Aldais Touched' could hardly be considered a placeholder. Besides, with that done, he was finally able to get around to something he'd been itching to do for weeks. And which, given his current condition, could be greatly beneficial. That being the creation of new minions.

It was a bit tricky to start with, given that he obviously couldn't afford to barf up a monster right in the middle of an already terrified group of people. Eventually however, he managed to figure out how to have the creatures simply appear inside him; each bag briefly forming within the space that technically still existed in this dimension, before being near-immediately sent to his own.

At only five silver a pop, he maxed out his limit on the creatures without much concern; the amount easily covered by the bits and pieces of treasure their elder brother had already sent back from crab-town. Though, as each arrived, he did find himself immediately requiring Buddy's help to sort, and in some cases contain the things. Despite this, five or so minutes later he found himself the proud progenitor of nine new 'lesser mimics'.

The four which had chosen either 'Creeping Hoard' or 'Taste for Gold' as their opening Trait quickly confined to the same pit that had previously housed their older sibling; each attempting to crawl over the other like crabs in a bucket. Which left him with five. Four with gleaming golden jaws hidden just beneath their bag's opening, and one which possessed a mournful jeweled eye that seemed to stare eerily at his position despite his incorporeal nature. Behavior which got it near-immediately sent to the pit too.

Bob not having any time for that sort of nonsense. Besides, tossing it out conveniently left him with just the group he most wanted to experiment on.

'Consumption/Minion' Path Traits having proven very useful. Having seen himself how much the options you were given depended on the actions you took, Bob did his best to replicate the early life of his first creation. Buddy having been rather forthcoming on how the octopus had done its best to 'help' the smaller monster out. Which meant the process began by filling the creatures near to bursting with F-rank mussels.

He felt almost like an unethical farmer producing foie gras as he watched the octopus shove mollusk after mollusk into each bag; their gilded teeth chomping away and filling the area with a mess of masticated mussels. Eventually though, once he felt like it had gone on long enough, Bob asked the cephalopod to stop; and then to grab the items required for the next step. Those being four golden badges from the lost city of Azcora.

The monetary amount would get each of them past level ten in rank 'E', but only cost him a little over twenty silver in total for their evolutions. The remainder being returned to him in coin form by the system. Coins which would likely come in quite handy when attempting to deal with his fellow sapients; loathe as he was to part with any of his hoard.

Unfortunately, one thing he had forgotten about was the waiting period required for a monster to reach full 'doneness'; Bob being forced back into idleness after a mess of notifications ended with each mimic beginning to evolve. On the plus side, his attempts to replicate his initial minion's route had been mostly successful. A full three having chosen to evolve into 'Flesh Render' Mimics while one went down an unknown 'Snap-Trap' route. All picking a variety of your standard F-rank Trait options along the way.

Over the next three or so hours, he occupied himself by having conversations with Buddy and checking on the ever-worsening condition of the men and women above him; the latter of which made him realize how far he'd drifted from what it meant to be human. Bob feeling surprised, and even a bit disgusted, by how quickly their bodies were beginning to slump and degrade in the heat.

His previously instinctual understanding of human frailty somehow having been lost during his seemingly endless journey through the dungeon. He was shocked when they still hadn't attempted to speak to him by the time his minions 'hatched', night having already fallen an hour or so back. But he didn't let that spoil the 'unboxing'. Bob crossing his non-existent fingers as each new alert popped up in front of him.

And being forced to stop himself from doing a happy dance – and thus further terrifying the group of exhausted people – when one alert in particular actually did. Twice at that. While the unique 'Greedy-Guts' Trait of the 'Flesh-Render' mimic was what generated mana from biological matter, his creatures having it was relatively useless to him without the additional Trait, 'Taste Tester', which allowed them to share the ability's effects.

A Trait which one of his 'Flesh-Renders' and his new 'Snap-Trap' mimic had both acquired. The first in addition to a new prehensile tongue, and the second along with a previously unseen Trait called 'Glutton's Repose'. One which, once seen, had Buddy immediately rushing it to the 'mollusk hole' and beginning to shove monstrous bivalves into the creature as quickly as octopodily possible.

It took about ten minutes of Bob repeating orders to his newest minion while it was being force-fed but eventually, the monster either comprehended his statements or reached its food limit. The mimic halting its feverish 'chomping' to suddenly slump over. Its body becoming completely inanimate as it – according to the ability – drifted into a vulnerable state of recuperative 'sleep'. After which, Bob almost immediately began regenerating.

He felt the man holding him jerk as his boards slowly began to shift themselves back into place. Something which would be repeated numerous times during the night as he continually force-fed the newest members of his minion 'VIP' list; his health and mana bars quickly rising as multiple 'halls' were cleared while the Boss Mussel just kept chugging along. By the time daylight began to peak over the mountains in the distance, Bob felt like a whole new monster.

His health and mana were both at max, with more waiting to be regenerated at a moment's notice. He also had two new 'offensive' minions; a pair of level twenty 'Flesh Render' mimics that seemed decently potent for rank 'E'. Him eventually investing the gold required to level each of his new creations to max – mostly hoping for another shot at 'Taste Tester' – though he had admittedly felt uncomfortable putting the last few coins in.

Still, given he was the only D-rank mimic currently around, Bob couldn't help but think things had gone rather well. In fact, he was considering evolving a few of his other minions when he was suddenly surprised by a voice emanating out from above him.

"Alright mimic! I'll admit you've got us by the balls here, so I guess it's time for us to begin those 'further negotiations' you talked about earlier! What exactly do you want in exchange for getting us out of this mess alive!?" Bob 'popped' out of himself for the first time in hours, shocked to see the current state of the people surrounding him; it being obvious none were more than minutes away from total collapse as they stood there sweat-drenched and teetering.

With a twist of his newly-repaired lid, he turned his eye to the man he still felt bonded to; the agreement clinging to the both of them like an oily film.

"I'd love to, Davin." He said; realizing as he did so, and the vast majority of those present flinched back in terror, that getting an 'in' with humanity was likely to be a lot more difficult than he'd hoped for. Still, at least he was now well prepared for their sudden but inevitable betrayal.