I stepped out of the dungeon, my backpack heavy with loot, and a full smile on my face. I had plenty of magic stones to exchange, and I even got a few drop items by the end of this run. I was eating good tonight.
I had no idea if my skill could affect drop rates. I couldn't reasonably gauge this after just one run, and getting three goblin fangs out of thirty something green midgets did not sound too unlikely.
My arms were sticky with drying blood up to the elbow, and I was tempted to wash in the large fountain up ahead, but I quickly dismissed the idea, smile turning wry. That would probably get me in trouble.
People were already giving me weird looks as I slowly walked through the Babel main square, no doubt jealous at my swag, but I just ignored them.
A small group of adventurers stood by the fountain, and my ears caught a few hushed whispers as I passed by.
"Hey, check this guy out."
"What's with all that blood? Did he just punch monsters to death?"
"Looks like it."
"Who the hell smiles like that fresh out of the dungeon?"
"Amazons?"
"Amazons are fucking crazy."
"What a weirdo."
"Think he killed the Jack Bird?"
"Nah, someone already killed that chicken a couple days ago."
"He's got some real guts, though. I wouldn't step foot inside the dungeon without a weapon."
"Maybe he's just a loony. We get one of those every now and then."
"Man, I swear this city attracts all the crazies."
The voices blended with the din of the city as I got further away, but my smile did not wane. They just didn't understand.
__________________________________________
"One thousand six hundred forty valis."
I stared at the blank faced guild teller with a deadpan as he deposited a small bag full of coins on the counter, not making any move to pick it up.
"Something wrong, sir?"
He must have mistaken my reaction for something else, because his face immediately shifted into a textbook customer service smile that made me pity him a little.
"Thirty-four goblin cores, worth twenty valis each, twelve kobold cores, worth thirty each, and three goblin fangs, worth two hundred a piece. That totals to one thousand six hundred forty valis."
I shook my head with a strained smile. "No, I just… expected more."
This was way less than I'd imagined. It might take me a while to gather ten thousand valis to pay Miach back.
My thinly veiled complaint drew a quiet snort from the older man. "You and everyone else." He tapped a finger on the counter. "Go deeper, and you'll earn more. Dungeon lizard stones are worth one hundred valis, war shadows and frog shooters a hundred fifty, and killer ants two hundred."
My mouth became a thin line as I committed those values to memory. The numbers from Bell's early adventuring days were starting to make a lot more sense now. The kid probably spent a full workday to earn a thousand something valis on the fourth floor.
The guild teller's eyes flickered to the money bag, and I took the hint, picking it up, and dumping the coins into my belt pouch. The unpleasant feeling of dried blood coating my fingers distracted me for a moment before I pulled my shirt over the bag.
"Thanks for the info."
The man just gave a nod in return, and I turned away, looking around the Guild lobby. The last rays of sun filtering through the tall windows gave the whole room a burnt orange hue, and I idly took in the scenery while searching for that familiar mop of bubblegum pink hair.
Misha was sitting at her reception desk, one hand propping her cheek as she lazily filled some paperwork with the same enthusiasm as a teenager doing homework.
Wincing in sympathy, I made my way to the fun sized girl, ready to give her some reprieve from that bureaucratic hell.
"Hey, Misha, guess who's back~?"
The girl looked up from her papers at my greeting, eyes lighting up in recognition as I flashed her a grin.
"I see you're still in one pi–" she smiled teasingly, though it quickly froze on her lips, eyes growing wide as she took a good look at my blood-soaked arms and bloodstained outfit.
"Jack!" Misha gasped, dropping her quill, a few drops of ink splattering on her desk. "You're covered in blood! Are you alright?" Her exclamation drew Eina's attention, the half elf looking between us for a moment, before frowning disapprovingly.
I ignored the fun police, giving my cute advisor a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it's not mine." It seemed to calm her down a little, her shoulders sagging as she studied my body for nonexistent wounds.
Her concern brought a warm feeling in my chest, though I'd rather she didn't worry so much. I could take care of myself.
"You didn't go beyond the second floor, did you?" Misha's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, lips drawing a thin, skeptical line.
"Nope." I shook my head. "Just stayed in that side corridor near the entrance to Floor two. I took my time to get used to the dungeon today."
"That's a good call. I'm glad to see you weren't too reckless on your first delve. A lot of rookies end up in over their heads because they dive in headfirst before they learn how the dungeon works."
"It's alive and it goes for the kill in our moments of weakness."
Misha eyed me for a quiet moment, as if seeing me in a completely new light, before nodding with a tiny smile. "A lot of rookies forget this, and they get reminded in the worst possible of ways. It's good to see that you're taking the important lessons to heart. Maybe I won't have to worry about you too much." Her tone took a playful turn towards the end, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"As nice as it is to have a cute girl worry about me, I'd rather give you as few reasons for it as possible."
"Oh?" Misha leaned forward, eyes a little hooded as she propped her forearms on the counter, shoulders hunched enough to briefly draw my gaze to the perky outline of her chest. As I looked back at her face, I found her impish smirk a little wider and two cerise orbs shining with mischief.
Cheeky tease.
"That might be a little hard if you keep showing up like this, you know?"
I gave a lazy one-handed shrug. "It's a risk that comes with the job."
"Really?" She raised a skeptical eyebrow, gaze flicking to my hands and breastplate, a doubtful smile crossing her lips. "Perhaps you'd have less trouble if you bought an actual weapon."
"I don't need a weapon to deal with a bunch of dogs and pickled babies." I didn't have much use for a hammer until those Killer Ants, and even then, it would only save me time.
These hands were truly a universal weapon.
A beat of silence passed between us before an unladylike snort escaped Misha, her hand darting up to cover her mouth. "P-pickled babies?" Her voice cracked, sounding on the verge of laughter.
"Well, they're small, noisy, and their head looks like a pickle," I said, amusement tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Their blood also tastes a little sour."
My cute advisor couldn't hold back a giggle, her grin peeking from between her dainty fingers. She took a deep, fortifying breath, eyeing me oddly for a bit. "Why do you know what goblin blood tastes like?"
I held up a bloodstained hand. "I punch things dead. I'm always in the splash zone."
Muffled peals of laughter escaped Misha, drawing a cross look from Eina, which went completely unnoticed.
It was good to see that my advisor had a sense of humor, unlike a certain nagging and bossy half elf. My gaze lingered on Misha's neighbor as she bent over to retrieve something from the nearby bookshelf.
My newly improved, twenty-twenty vision let me admire in great detail how her juicy peach stretched out the fabric of her pants, and the image of a pale, full moon briefly flashed in my mind's eye.
At least Eina had a fat ass.
I must've a stared a second too long, though, as, by the time I looked back, Misha had a knowing smirk on her face.
"Did my cute coworker catch your eye perhaps?"
I smirked back. "A little." Gigachad rule #8. When caught staring, just double down. Shamelessly. "She's not really my type, but eye candy is eye candy."
I've watched enough hentai to understand the beauty of elf ass, and, even if it didn't match up to Amazon or monster girl ass, it still had its own unique charm.
Misha's lips stretched further, a curious gleam flashing in her eyes. "Oh? What's your type, then?"
The question came a little out of the left field, but I covered it with an easygoing smile. It sounded like she was just looking for gossip, but you could never be certain with a woman. Unless she was an Amazon, of course.
I didn't have to think long for an answer, though.
"Fun girls who enjoy a good fight, and strong enough to join me in the dungeon."
Misha blinked, her brow slightly furrowing and smile turning a little stilted. "Sounds like you're describing Amazons."
Why, yes, I did.
"Amazons are great." I nodded sagely.
My cute advisor didn't seem to agree with this flawless logic, her mouth drawing into a thin line. "Word of advice? Be careful. Amazons can be pretty dangerous."
That was fine. The sex would be totally worth it. Crazy pussy was the best pussy. And my skill should also give me a positive charisma modifier with Amazons.
"Don't worry, I'll keep my distance until at least level two."
Aisha was level three. Lena was level two. Tiona was level five.
I'd rather avoid a crushed pelvis. I wouldn't be able to afford an elixir for a long time.
Well, I could go for a random, level one amazon, but where'd be the fun in that?
Misha seemed satisfied with my answer, the concern draining away from her features. She rested her chin on both palms, a teasing quirk to her lips as she gave me an amused look. "That'll take a while. You might need to consider an alternative."
Oh? Was she implying something? Or just being a tease?
Either way, she clearly expected me to take years to reach level two, if I ever got there at all.
If only she knew.
Even if my skill did not let me cheat like Bell, I'd still find a way to max out my stats and hit that level up before winter. I had the Rule of Cool on my side.
"I'll see what the future holds." I flashed my cute advisor a smile. "But for now, I'd like to clean myself and my clothes. Does the Guild offer any services for that?"
The brief twitch at the corner of her mouth made it clear that Misha would've liked to keep chatting, but I really needed to take a bath.
Fully dried, the blood felt even more unpleasant on my skin as I flexed my fingers a little. I hoped this place had some good soap, but more importantly, warm water. I've had enough washing with the bucket to last me a lifetime.
I'd have to research the local bathhouses, too.
Misha straightened up, her gaze flicking to my bloodstained hands and breastplate, before she nodded. "We do, but for a fee. Fifty valis to use the shower, and thirty valis to use the clothes washer."
My eyes widened. They had washing machines here?!
Thank the gods, washing clothes by hand was a fucking chore. All hail magitek.
I had to get rich asap. Losing my modern amenities due to a lack of tech development was one thing. Losing them because I was poor just pissed me off.
So much shit I've taken for granted in my past life…
Misha drew my attention as she held up a finger, her face uncharacteristically stern. "The clothes washer is strictly for clothes and bags, at most. Do not put anything else inside, or you will have to pay for the damage."
"Got it." I nodded at the warning, and the girl smiled, seemingly satisfied. There must've been plenty of dumbasses in the past for the Guild to start reminding people like this.
Misha gestured with a hand towards the exchange post. "Walk down the left hallway, and you'll find a waiting room with the Guild facilities at the end."
"Thanks. See you tomorrow, Misha."
__________________________________________
Naaza felt her mouth pull into a frown as she counted the pharmacy's earnings for the day. Barely breaking even, as usual. And that wasn't accounting for what potions Lord Miach might have given away in his kindness, again.
Her ears twitched as the door creaked open, and she quickly hid the money under the counter, her tail swishing as she stood straighter on her chair.
Those who came after the closing hours often had some sort of emergency and rarely tried to haggle on the prices. More money was always nice.
If she managed to sell a High Potion…
Her frown deepened and she held back a sigh, all dreams of profit falling in another early grave when she saw who entered.
"Yo. I'm back." Jack, the crazy weirdo, new member of her Familia, greeted with a smile as he strode up to the counter, each step a confident swagger.
He'd only killed a few goblins, and it already got to his head?
Lord Miach had mentioned a something about a skill in passing, but Jack looked way too cocky for a rookie. This fool was going to bite more than he can chew and end up just like–
Naaza froze as images flashed through her mind, her heart picking up as she felt cold sweat forming on her back. Pushing away all thoughts, she took a deep, quiet breath, pretending that nothing was amiss as she looked up at Jack.
At least he had the presence of mind to buy a piece of plate armor for his torso.
The rest of his outfit looked the same, save for the backpack slung over his shoulders, the carving knife at his hip, and the–
What on earth were those things on his hands? A cestus? He went to the dungeon with a cestus? That's what he spent Lord Miach's generosity on?
Unbelievable…
Naaza pushed a small smile on her face and looked up to meet Jack's eyes. "How was your first day?"
Even if he might be touched in the head, he'd still risked his life in that horrible place to earn money for the Familia, something she couldn't do anymore.
She should at least be polite with him.
"It was pretty great." Jack's lips peeled into a toothy grin as he gestured with his hands. "I got myself a guild advisor, best one on the roster, then went to the dungeon for about six hours."
He'd spent six hours in the dungeon and still had this much energy? What was wrong with him?
"I never thought that killing monsters could be so fun. I'm making money and getting stronger at the same time. It's awesome."
Naaza blinked, her brows furrowing as those words echoed inside her head. Killing monsters was… fun? Fun?
A shiver crossed her spine, an image flashing through her mind. An open maw full of razor sharp teeth, dripping with blood.
For a moment, she couldn't do anything but stare at Jack's smiling face, his blue eyes gleaming with something that had to be madness. This man was insane. There was no other explanation.
A frown twisted Naaza's lips, her quiet voice turning colder. "Don't take the dungeon lightly. You might not live to regret it."
"I appreciate the warning." He nodded, his features losing the previous mirth as his mouth pressed into a grim line. "I've been cautious today, but do you have any advice for a rookie?"
Advice, huh?
She lifted her fake arm, face stony as she leaned forward in her seat, propping the elbow atop the counter. "This is what happens when you get too confident."
She tugged at her glove, pulling it off in a smooth motion. Even in the dim light of the lamp, the polished silver of her prosthetic gleamed unnaturally.
Her eyes never left Jack, curious about his reaction, but his face remained impassive as he quietly took in the sight of her prosthetic. He didn't even look the least surprised. Had he seen something similar before?
"Mind if I touch it?" Jack asked with a smile, a light, slightly excited note in his voice.
Weirdo.
What was so interesting about a fake arm that burdened their Familia with a grueling debt.
"No."
A moment after the word left her mouth, Jack gently clasped her hand, his skin warm against the cool metal. He held it like that for a while, brushing his thumb across the smooth silver of her fingers.
"Do you feel this?"
Naaza found herself averting her eyes as a flash of heat rose up her neck. It was just a fake arm, but did he really have to touch it like that? And what on earth was he even asking? Was this guy the same as Lord Miach?
"The sensation is muted."
"But it's there." There was a note of wonder in his voice as he kept studying her prosthetic. "And you have full motor control. No loss in accuracy for fine movements, either. It interfaces seamlessly with your body."
Her eyebrows climbed a fraction up her forehead. She'd thought this guy was just some farmer from the boonies, but he certainly didn't sound like the typical peasant.
He'd claimed to come from Melen, but what did he do before that, and where did he actually hail from?
"Magic is truly wonderful, isn't it?"
Naaza couldn't hold back a scoff. "Not as much as you'd think. Some things are beyond even magic." She flexed her fake fingers, and he seemed to get the message.
"For now." He looked up, meeting her eyes. "One day, I'm sure we'll have magic that can restore even lost limbs."
Or not.
She ignored his naïve ramblings, eyeing him expectantly for a few moments, but he didn't seem to get the hint.
"Are you done with my hand?"
She'd hoped for a little payback for earlier, but he gave no reaction beyond smiling as he released her hand.
Not just cocky. Shameless, too. A dangerous combination.
With a quiet sigh, Naaza donned her glove and pulled down her sleeve, leaning back in her chair. Silence filled the room, bordering on the awkward as Jack glanced idly around the room, before his gaze settled back on her.
"How much did it cost?"
The words hit her akin to a punch, her mouth twisting bitterly at the reminder.
Everything.
Her good hand grabbed a fistful of her skirt, and she clenched her jaw, an ugly feeling pulling at her insides.
Lord Miach had sacrificed everything to give back her hand, and it was all her fault. It would take her a lifetime to repay him for his kindness.
"A hundred million valis." She spat out the number like it was acid on her tongue. "We haven't even paid half of it yet. Barely forty million after six years, and most of it had been the Familia's savings."
Jack's face tightened at the sum. Was he finally starting to realize what he got himself into?
"That's a lot for a prosthetic. As much as a Durandal weapon for a first class adventurer."
Naaza couldn't help but scoff. Of course they were expensive. Losing a limb ended the career of an adventurer, and Dian Cecht was the only one who provided such high quality replacements. He could charge as much as he wanted.
"We have to pay two hundred thousand each month for the next twenty-five years."
She expected to see a grimace, a hint of despondence, or for him to at least balk at the sum, but he just smiled that small, confident, annoying smile of his as he looked her in the eye.
"I'll find a way to get that debt settled by the end of next summer."
She blinked, his words sounding alien to her ears for a moment. Her brow creased as she wondered if she'd heard him right, but then a flash of anger sparked in her chest.
"Don't joke about this."
He met her frown with an impassive stare. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
She studied his face for a moment, and she saw none of his usual mirth on it. He was serious about this.
The heat in her chest cooled to a faint simmer.
He really wasn't joking.
It was good to have another person to help ease the burden of their debt, but why did he have to be insane?
"Even if we had ten people bringing money every day from the dungeon, it would still take years to pay off the debt." Naaza shook her head, voice incredulous. "And you're saying you can do it in one year? Don't you dare speak this nonsense around Lord Miach."
She rarely got riled up like this, but the debt kept being a sore subject to this day, and Jack was treating it so lightly. She couldn't stop herself from glaring at Jack, but he simply met her glare with a small, understanding smile.
"Have a little faith in me, Naaza. Even if it seems impossible, I won't let that stop me. I'll find a way."
A scoff escaped her. "Good luck with that."
"Thanks."
Her mouth twitched with another frown. Did the sarcasm fly over his head, or was he doing this on purpose? She sent him another glare, though with little effect. He either had a thick head, or extremely thick skin.
Maybe even both.
Jack reached inside a bag strapped to his waist and pulled out a small sack, dropping it on the counter. It jingled with the sound of coins. "Here's a thousand for my share."
Her brows rose a fraction as she eyed the bag. "How much did you make today?" Her gaze shifted back to Jack as he flashed her another annoying smile.
"Sixteen hundred."
That was quite the sum for a first delve. Most rookies barely made a thousand valis in a full day of work.
"And you're giving me a thousand?" She eyed him curiously, brow furrowed.
Maybe he wasn't all talk, after all.
"I have enough money for food and one potion." He patted his hip, smirking. "That's all I need for now."
Really? What was he planning to eat? Potato puffs three times a day?
Jack dug a hand in his money pouch and pulled out a handful of coins, dropping them on the counter with a clinking noise. A brief glance revealed five hundred valis.
His eyes went to the potions on display, and she got the message.
Standing up from her seat, she went to the rack by the backroom, her tail swishing lazily as she bent over to grab a healing potion from the lowest shelf. One of the good ones.
She placed the vial in his outstretched hand, before gathering the coins and dumping them in the sack with the other thousand.
"Be careful where you put it. These vials aren't the most durable." They had to cut costs wherever they could, so the better glass had to go to the more valuable potions.
Nodding, Jack eyed the potion for a moment, frowning in thought, before stashing it inside his belt bag.
"Remind me to work on figuring out enchanted glass once I get Mystery."
She couldn't help but stare as Jack said yet another ridiculous thing so casually, as if it was simply a matter of time before it became true. She knew of only three people with Mystery in all of Orario, and he just expected to get it like it was Hunter or Abnormal Resistance?
Insanity.
Still… she had to admit, to herself at least, that, the way he spoke, so self assured and full of conviction… it made Jack seem oddly reliable, and maybe even a little cool.
__________________________________________
I stepped inside my room, a small chamber at the back of the pharmacy, with a bed, a desk, and a wooden rack for a wardrobe. Slipping off my backpack and dropping it on the desk, I took off my breastplate while staring idly out the window.
The talk with Naaza lingered at the back of my mind, bringing a frown to my lips.
I pitied her a little. She'd lost hope after all these years of struggle barely putting a dent in their debt. But I was here now, and things were about to change.
I'd settle that debt within the year, even if it seemed impossible. I'd find a way.
A smile settled on my face as I left my armor on the desk.
Gigachad rule #1. Chad lifts weights, gigachad lifts other people up.
Reaching for my backpack, I pulled out my freshly purchased razor blade, a thousand valis well spent, and left it on the nightstand. Beards were cool, but I hated how they itched. They also needed constant grooming, and I couldn't be bothered with that.
Shaving was already annoying, more so with a straight razor. Foam didn't exist, for obvious reasons, but I could make do with soap just as fine. I used soap to shave even back home, sometimes.
A giddy feeling bubbled in my chest as I stepped out into the hallway, heading back to the shop. Miach said he'd be preparing stuff in the backroom at this hour, and that was my next stop.
I couldn't wait to see my gains.
The sound of mortar against pestle was soothing to his ears as he ground dried herbs into a fine powder.
As he worked, his thoughts began to wander to his newest child. Jack was braving the dungeon, aiming towards a dream that many a men and gods alike would find silly at best. But the young man had a conviction
Still, it was getting late, and Jack had yet to return. The only thing putting his worries to rest was the bond between divine and mortal that he could sense, so long the Falna existed on his child's back.
The distant voices from the main room faintly reached his ears. Naaza was talking to someone, a man who sounded like Jack.
Miach smiled, emptying the mortar into a nearby jar and grabbed another handful of herbs, resuming his grinding.
The day had been a surprise he'd never imagined.
A peculiar child from another world.
It shouldn't be possible without the power of a divine, yet Jack was here. The means, unknown to him.
Was it simply a quirk of fate? The meddling of another god? Something more sinister at work? Miach had no idea, and nowhere to look for an answer.
Or… perhaps Ouranos might know something?
Miach frowned.
He wasn't sure if he should break such a topic to the Head or the Guild, though. Ouranos could get quite ruthless when it came to perceived threats to the safety of Orario, and it was hard to predict how he might react to knowledge of a man from beyond their world.
He didn't like to admit it, but Miach lacked the power to protect his children if they happened to attract the wrong kind of attention from a better established god.
He'd have to think on this for a while.
Miach paused his work at the soft creaking of metal hinges, looking over his shoulder as Jack walked inside the room.
"I'm back, Lord Miach."
He set aside his tools and stood up, facing the young man with a smile. "You can call me Miach. You are my child now."
"If that's what you wish." Jack nodded respectfully. He was rather polite from what Miach had seen so far, though he wished that his child would relax more around him. They were the closest thing to a family now.
Jack walked closer, a flash of excitement lighting up his face. He seemed in quite the high spirits.
"I'm glad to see that you're hale and whole. How did your first day go?"
Updating the Falna would reveal plenty, but talking to his children was pleasant in its own way.
"I had a lot of fun in the dungeon today." Jack grinned, a strange gleam in his eyes.
The words rang true in Miach's ears, and, for a moment, he found himself at a loss as he stared unblinkingly at his child. Fun? Jack had fun in that dreadful place?
He didn't remember anyone speaking as if they found the dungeon even remotely fun since the late children of the Zeus Familia.
What sort of world did Jack come from to see the dungeon in such a peculiar light?
"It's good to see that you can face the dungeon undaunted, but be careful and don't put yourself in undue risk. Life is more important than riches and glory."
Jack nodded, gaze turning flinty. "I'll do my best to stay alive."
Miach held back a sigh. This was probably the best he could get from an adventurous man like Jack.
"Would you like to see how I prepare a healing potion?"
A smile lit up Jack's face at the offer, and Miach couldn't help a quiet chuckle. It has been a while since he'd had such an eager apprentice.
"Sure, but before that, could you update my status?"
"Of course." Miach gestured at his chair with a smile. "Have a seat."
As Jack sat down and took off his shirt, Miach picked up a needle from the work table and pricked a finger, letting a drop of ichor fall on the young man's back.
The Falna rippled, and he unfolded it like a book as divine hieroglyphs burst out with ethereal glow. He rested both palms among the shifting letters and experienced the story of his child in the way only a divine could.
The visit at the Guild. The descent into the dungeon. The first encounter with a mon–
Miach blinked, brow creasing a fraction. Did goblins normally splatter like that when kicked into a wall? Old memories from better times said that they shouldn't. A fresh level one did not have enough strength for such a feat.
Then he saw the second fight, Jack effortlessly breaking goblin necks with one punch as if they were breadsticks. Even though necks shouldn't break that easily, not unless the force was applied at very specific angle–
His eyes grew wide. Was this Jack's skill at work?
The next encounter played out similarly to the first two. Jack made short work of the monsters with an ease that belied his experience and freshly blessed status.
Miach kept watching, more and more unusual feats catching his eye. Dodging attacks at the last possible moment. Hitting vital points with uncanny accuracy despite a lack of proper aiming. Monsters hurting themselves when attacking Jack.
Taken individually, they could be attributed to mere luck. But put together?
He'd underestimated this skill.
"Rule of Cool is certainly impressive. Much more useful in combat than I imagined."
And much more likely to draw unwanted attention.
"I think I've barely scratched the surface today. Hitting weak points with precise and flashy moves seems like the most basic thing it can do."
"You said that your skill depends on actions being sufficiently impressive in order to trigger, correct?"
His style was certainly impressive through its brutal efficiency.
Jack nodded. "If an act is cool enough, Rule of Cool affects the outcome. I assume it's a sort of probability manipulation."
Probability manipulation? That bordered on the realm of divine providence. A frown crossed Miach's face. The Falna was born from a piece of divinity, but should it truly grant such a powerful skill?
Was this because of Jack's unusual circumstances as an otherworldly being?
Setting that thought aside, Miach focused on the letters and symbols floating before his eyes. After such an eventful day in the dungeon, he wondered how much his child had improv–
His hands froze as the numbers settled into place. He kept staring at the Falna, brow creasing. One hundred fourteen?
He checked the status again, just to make sure. It was the same.
How on earth did his child manage such incredible growth from a single delve inside the dungeon? He'd heard stories in the past, but those children had skills that boosted their growth–
Miach blinked. Oh.
Jack's skill also affected growth.
Thrill and concern filled him in equal measure. This was the kind of skill that gods fought War Games over, and–
"How's the status looking?"
Deciding to leave the worry for later, Miach finished the update and closed the Falna, feeling himself smile at the excitement in his child's voice. He reached for the stack of parchment on his worktable and grabbed a piece, placing it on Jack's back, engraving the status before handing it over to his child.
<>
Jacob Brewer
Lv. 1
STR: I0 → I33
END: I0 → I30
DEX: I0 → I24
AGI: I0 → I27
MAG: I0 → I0
"Magic"
"Skills"
[Rule of Cool]
Yours is an impossible existence. Inspire awe, and the world is willing to suspend its disbelief. Act to impress. Impress when you act. It Just Works.
<>
By the time Jack read through the update, his smile had dimmed.
"Looks good for a first day."
Miach held back a frown as the lie reached his ears. Over a hundred ability points in one day, and his child looked disappointed.
Didn't Jack realize that he'd progressed in a single day more than most adventurers progressed in a week?
What unrealistic expectations did he have?
Jack crumpled the status paper and placed it in a pocket as he stood up, putting his shirt back on.
Miach sat down at his worktable, gesturing at the ingredients scattered about. "Let's get started on that healing potion."
__________________________________________
Rays of moonlight filtered through the window as I lay down on my bed, trying to fall asleep. Keyword tried, because my mind kept going back to that status update.
It turned out that my skill affected growth. The finer details eluded me, however.
What criteria influenced the growth? While doing cool shit? Every time it triggered? Only in the dungeon?
It needed more testing.
A frown curled my lips. Only about thirty in every ability point, except magic…
I'd expected more.
Miach's reaction made it clear that, for a first run, my growth was unexpectedly high. I knew that, too. I understood that, compared to the other adventurers in Orario, my growth was meteoric.
Yet, I still felt like it wasn't enough. Not when I knew the kind of bullshit growth Bell achieved through his skill. Especially not when I knew what awaited everyone in the future.
I rolled on my back and stared at the ceiling, a sigh escaping me.
I was being silly. This was just the first day, and I'd barely glimpsed the surface of the iceberg. I had the motherfucking Rule of Cool on my side. I could do this.
A smile found its way on my face.
This was fine. It was only the beginning. Perhaps I wasn't cool enough today. But that could be fixed. I just had to be cooler. The coolest man in the dungeon.
A quiet chuckle escaped me, and I rolled on a side, closing my eyes. Too bad my mind refused to grow quiet yet.
A random thought had me staring at the wall with a frown. That magic stat was going to piss off my OCD something fierce.
I needed to find a way to figure out Magic. Paying a hundred million for a grimoire would be out of my reach for a while. A spell might pop up on my status at some point in the future, but that wasn't a guarantee and I also didn't feel like relying on luck when I only had up to three maximum potential slots for magic.
I needed good, useful magic. Not some shitty firebolt or magic missile.
Maybe I could try something like meditation and see what happens?
A jaw popping yawn escaped me. I closed my eyes, forcing my thoughts away.
I could try this tomorrow. I was too tired right now and needed to get some goddamn sleep.
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