John was now at the day before Christmas levels of excitement as Atlas built up to his announcement.
Atlas finally stopped teasing him, and pulled out two things from his backpack. He held out a broadsword. “Well, this is part one of your present.”
John’s eyes widened as he took the sword. “Damn, it’s heavy.”
“Yeah, but it’s great for one-armed use—if you can control it,” Atlas said with a deadpan delivery.
John swung the sword experimentally, feeling the weight. “I don’t know, man. I’ve been working out, and fighting in the wasteland’s made me stronger, but I’m not nearly as strong as you.”
“Well, that’s where part two of the present comes in,” Atlas said, pulling out a red potion bottle. “Drink this. Don’t spill any. It cost me five hundred coins.”
John’s jaw dropped. “Holy crap.” Without hesitation, he uncorked the bottle and downed the potion in one swift gulp. “Mmm, tastes like raspberry—ah, wait…shit. It hurts.” He stumbled back, his face contorting in pain as he collapsed to the floor.
“That’s why I brought you somewhere private,” Atlas said, watching with amusement.
John writhed on the ground, yelling incoherently. “What the—ow! Shit! Fuck—this…ahhh!”
Atlas waited for the agonizing five minutes to pass before speaking. “How’re you feeling now?”
John, breathless and covered in sweat, sat up slowly. “I feel…normal?”
Atlas grinned. “Good. Now, pick up the broadsword.”
John stood and reached for the sword again, hefting it with ease this time. “Hey, it’s way lighter! It feels like my old sword now.”
“That’s the gene booster you just drank,” Atlas explained. “It’s a one-time use that blends mana with nanites, enhancing your genes to the max.”
John’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, like…Captain America?”
“Yep,” Atlas said, grinning. “You’re Captain fucking America now.”
John swung the broadsword a few more times, testing the balance. “So, why the broadsword though? I’m used to my old one.”
Atlas set his beer down, a glint of pride in his eyes. “The reason for the broadsword, John, is simple. They’re heavier because of the basket hilt, and it’s got that wide, thick blade. It’s built for chopping through armor, or at least heavier clothing and light armor. With a sword like this, you’re not just cutting—you can beat an opponent’s sword or shield to the side, forcing them open where they’re vulnerable.”
John nodded, gripping the hilt and feeling the weight in his hand. “So, it’s about brute force?”
“Exactly,” Atlas said. “If your opponent’s weaker than you, you’ll wear them down fast. They’ll get tired quicker trying to defend against those heavy blows. Plus, gravity’s your friend with a sword like this. Once you get the momentum going, it’s tough to stop. You just need to know how to use it right.”
John smiled, swinging the sword experimentally. “Yeah, I can see how this’ll work. Thanks for the upgrade, Atlas.”
“Just make sure you keep that arm intact this time,” Atlas teased, raising his glass.
John chuckled, still testing the sword’s weight. “I’ll do my best. No promises, though. You know my track record.”
Atlas smirked. “Yeah, you’ve definitely got a knack for dramatic dis-arms.” He laughed then took another sip of his beer. “But with that sword, and the gene booster? You’re going to be a damn nightmare for anything that crosses your path.”
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John grinned, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Well, I’ll drink to that.”
They headed back out to join the festivities.
Amber saw John with his new sword and said, “Oooh Atlas gave you his present!”
“Yup.” John was engrossed with playing with his new broadsword.
Amber noticed this and then started belting out a round of her favourite song.
“The Ballad of John the Amputee”
The whole tavern joined in, and this time John didn’t mind at all. Losing his arm three times sucked but now he was a freaking superhero with a badass sword.
“This is turning into a pretty good day,” said Isabella, as she too got over the frustration of not finding the slime dungeon.
Atlas thought, ‘Three goals accomplished with one slime gambeson: Cheering everyone up, increasing slime hunting, and starting a fashion craze.‘
‘‘‘‘
The fashion craze had really taken hold, spreading like wildfire among the adventurers. Both men and women were getting tired of their worn-out, sweat-soaked gambesons. Before now, nobody thought it was worth the extra four coins for a custom gambeson, but with the new slime-enchanted versions that were both stylish and enhanced with fire and impact resistance, it was a game-changer. Everywhere around town, adventurers were buzzing.
"Let's do this. I'm so sick of wearing this old thing," one adventurer said, tugging at his ragged gambeson.
"Yeah, did you hear they're buying up old ones?" the other replied.
"They are?" the first adventurer raised an eyebrow.
"Yep. Over by the crafting area. You trade them in, and they give you one and half a coins."
"Half a coin? You can't even ‘get‘ half a coin."
"Well, you need two old gambesons to get a full coin, smart guy. So, since you didn't know, how about giving me your old one?"
The first adventurer sighed, "Fine. But you're buying beer at the Wasted Tavern after."
"Sounds like a deal."
***
Abdul, one of the newer merchants in town had spotted an opportunity. With the adventurers scrambling to upgrade their gear, he saw a way to cash in, he offered 1.5 coins for every slime body turned in versus the official bounty of 1 coin per corpse. He required adventurers to hand over 2 slime bodies for 3 coins. The newbies especially jumped at the chance, needing every little bit of extra cash they could scrape together.
The merchant grinned to himself, thinking he was pulling a fast one. He turned those extra slime bodies into custom gambesons, selling them for only a little bit more than the machines. The profits weren’t great individually, but it was a fast high volume operation.
Little did he know, though, that his scheme was small-time compared to the deal another duo had worked out.
‘‘‘‘
Two adventurers, a sly duo named Derek and Marnie, had stumbled upon an idea so clever they could hardly believe no one else had thought of it. Hunting slimes had turned into a bit of a payday since the bounty was put up, but they realized something no one else had: ‘slimes reproduce when fed‘. So, while most adventurers were sweating it out, chasing slimes across the wasteland, Derek and Marnie had a much easier plan in mind.
They found a secluded cave a few miles from Fort Bone and set up what could only be described as a ‘slime farm‘. Every few hours, they’d head back to Fort Bone, acting like they were just another pair of adventurers, and buy up as much Soylent Green porridge as they could afford. It was the cheapest thing in the vending machines, practically free. It was also easy to load up on without drawing too much attention.
“Man, this stuff tastes like garbage, but the slimes love it,” Derek said, carrying several containers of the porridge back to their cave.
“Yeah, well, as long as it works,” Marnie replied, grinning as they set down the bags. They had their system down: feed the slimes, let them multiply, then carefully collect the extra bodies to turn in for the bounty. It was an easy cycle, and no one was the wiser.
Inside the cave, the slimes were happily squirming, dissolving the porridge with ease. As they consumed it, more slimes started to emerge, splitting off from the originals. Derek and Marnie watched the little creatures grow with a mixture of fascination and greed.
“Look at them,” Marnie said, “they’re multiplying faster than we expected. We’ll be rich in no time.”
“Just gotta be careful,” Derek reminded him. “No King Pods. We take them out as soon as they start trying to form a group.”
The two adventurers followed their plan to the letter. All day, they’d carefully thin out the slimes, making sure no large clusters could form. Then, they’d head back to Fort Bone, turning in dozens of slime bodies at a time and collecting their coins. They had even found a merchant who was offering 3 coins for 2 slime corpses.
Their profits soared. They were careful not to draw too much attention, still pretending to hunt slimes out in the field with the other adventurers, while their secret farm kept growing.
“This is too easy,” Marnie whispered one day as they hauled in another load of slime bodies.
Derek smirked. “And as long as no one finds out, we’ll keep getting richer.”
They had no idea how long they could keep it up, but for now, they were making more coins than they ever had before. And as long as they were careful, their slime farm was the easiest, most profitable hustle in Fort Bone.
‘‘‘