Chương 10: Black Mould - Six - Rewarding Hard Work

It took nearly a month for my progress to be rewarded properly. Every day I was dragged over to the old lady's house where she ignored me and I returned the favour. My little mini-biome was coming along nicely. Brown chanterelles were growing within it at an accelerated rate. I would occasionally push a bit more magic into the fungi, but at the same time, I worried that I might injure myself if I pushed too hard. The drop-off in experience gained from my first success was rather harsh.

I went from being used to gaining a level a day, to gaining one every two days, until the last couple took over a week. Still, it was worth it, I think. On the twenty-somethingth day of my recurring experiments, I received a nice reward for all of my hard work. [Congratulations! Your [Mushroom Magic {Rare}] Skill has reached level Twenty!] [You have unlocked a Sub-Skill!] I almost clapped with giddiness, but held back at the last moment. I didn't need the old hag to get curious.

This whole skill system thing was great. A little addictive, sure, but an excellent motivator. I could have used it as a grad student, or when I was trying to lose weight. [Congratulations! Your [Mushroom Magic {Rare}] Skill has unlocked the [Shroom Zoom] Subskill!] I blinked. The what? It only took a thought to open the subskill's description. [Shroom Zoom] All magic applied to fungal bodies will take less time to react to your will. Moderately decreased casting time for all [Mushroom Magic] abilities.

Interesting. I didn't exactly have a timer to see the added reaction speed, but a quick test that involved pouring a single point of mana into my mini-biome did feel faster. I imagined that as the skill grew, that kind of subskill would be handy. Did everyone's skills grow the same way, or was my worry over growth times affecting the subskills I received? I wish I could ask more questions about the system, but I still lacked the vocabulary for it. Oh well, it would remain a mystery for the moment.

I rewarded myself that night with a chewy shroom which fought back against the hunger, at least until my parents popped around to pick me up. During dinner, I quizzed my parents about everything in our little hovel, pointing to bowls, plates, tables, the bed, and even my dad's clothes. He seemed to think it was a fun little game, and gleefully named everything. I imagine a serious-faced not-yet-one-year-old trying their hardest to learn was kind of cute.

I was more than willing to exploit my cuteness for my own gain. The next morning, something changed. When my father carried me up the stairs to the old hag's place, he didn't stop, and kept climbing up and up. It took me a moment to notice that we hadn't stopped moving when we usually did, so I missed some of the route we took. Sticking my head up, I looked around to see where we were going, but all I saw were more destitute and poorly-built homes.

"Dada, where?" I asked. He chuckled, his chest rumbling wonderfully against my side.

"We're going somewhere special," he said. I only knew 'special' because he often called me that. At least, I think that's how it was translated. We reached the very top of the rickety metal stairs, and my father paused to catch his breath.

"Whoa," I said. We weren't high enough to see all that far. There were plenty of buildings taller than the one we stood on. In fact, there were just… lots of buildings. The city stretched out to the horizon, disappearing into the rolling grey of the distant sky. Huge, pillar-like smokestacks stood as foundations for the smokey ceiling over a city that never ended. Everywhere were rooftops. Flat and slightly angled, rust-coloured and brightly painted, with and without catwalks crawling over them.

Between the rooftops were craggy holes where streets must have been hidden. They were like glowing veins, the lights within shining out of the recesses in the endless expanse. I spun the other way, looking for an end to the city, but I couldn't find any. Glass domes rose out at the end of the city furthest from the factories, and there I found the only bit of green I could see. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

We must have been on what was once the side of a mountain, because one part of the city rose up and up until it was obscured by the low-hanging clouds and smoke. My vision was filled with countless homes jammed in close to each other, with walls stained brown by the smog. Cablecars were puttering along above us, linked across the city by long strands of arm-thick metal wire and suspended on massive towers.

"Big," I said. My dad chuckled.

"Yeah, it's big," he said.

"This is City Nineteen. But most people call it Thesia. Can you say that? The-si-a."

"Thesia," I repeated absently. I was honestly in awe. This place was massive, truly and utterly. I had been to New York, I'd flown to Berlin, and had even spent one night in Tokyo once upon a time. This place didn't beat those in terms of height, not quite, but the sheer scale of the city… It was daunting, it was incredible, it was— I started to cough, only then noticing the tingle at the back of my throat.

"You idiot," my mom said. She ran up behind us, and soon she was wrapping something around my lower face. A bandana, I realised, thicker cloth than I was used to, with some basic patterned print on it. My parents both fitted on their own cloth masks before we continued our walk as if it was the most normal thing in the world. The smog, I realised. It was thicker in some places than others, a yellow-brown mass that moved across the city seemingly at random.

It wasn't near us for now, but I could imagine it coming closer. It was kind of terrifying. Our trek above the city didn't last all that long before we dropped down a couple of levels and then walked into a building. It was probably a warehouse once, with tin walls marked by a few windows so grimy I could hardly see outside. Part of the floor we were on had a railing, and we could see below us where a gaggle of children were playing with each other.

My parents found a group of others, all about their own age, with a few kids of their own hanging onto pant legs and skirts. They started chatting, and I listened in. A few of the others reached over and pinched my cheeks, which I decided to endure as payment for whatever new words I was picking up from their conversation. Then my father brought me downstairs and set me down.

"You're going to stay here today," he said.

"I'm giving Martha six pence to keep you fed. That's a lot, okay? So behave, and if you need anything, just ask her."

"Martha?" I asked. He smiled, then pointed to a woman who stood off to the side; she was overlooking the play area like a fat queen ruling over her tiny subjects. The play space had a couple of slides, some large, rubbery wheels, and swings hanging from the ceiling by long chains. It was all cement and brightly-painted metal, but someone had clearly put a lot of love into the place. The kids seemed to be enjoying it, as some of them were zipping around and hollering already. I…

wasn't sure if I would rather be here or at the old hag's place.

"Behave, okay?" my father asked.

"You're the smallest here, so Martha will look after you. Make good friends." I nodded.

"Okay," I said. I had no such intentions, but I didn't want to disappoint him, not if he was paying for me to be here. In my opinion, the money could have been better served elsewhere. Like buying me some shoes. I had nothing on my feet, and my overalls were clearly third-hand and made for someone older than I was. My dad rubbed my fuzzy hair, then stood. My mom swept down and gave my forehead a quick peck, which might have been embarrassing if I had at least one digit to my age.

Then they were off, and I turned to see that I now had to deal with socialising. And kids. Wonderful. I missed my mushrooms already. Then again… lots of children, from lots of homes, most of whom didn't know better and were easily manipulated… Perhaps this was a jackpot of sorts. Now, how was it that kids made friends again? I pointed to a shy-looking girl, standing by the edge of the group and looking obviously nervous.

"Hey, you! Let's be friends," I declared.