"Ah! Shit!" A man said, his voice filled with frustration, but he immediately gasped afterward, closing his mouth with both hands.
"Almost said it loudly. Hopefully, no one heard it."
The flashing lights from the computer monitor illuminated the man's face, and his worn headset leaked faint sounds of roars and explosions.
"Must focus." The man turned back to his computer, his hand gliding over his keyboard, pressing multiple buttons in a perfect sequence.
The man was almost one with his video game character, so much so that he didn't notice the creaking opening of his door.
Inside, a small figure sneaked in, watching the man with curious eyes.
He walked closer to the man, eyes locked on the monitor.
"Awesome," he thought, watching the long-haired swordsman on the screen bouncing between monsters with flashy sword plays.
"What are you doing, uncle?" He said, his curiosity making it impossible for him to stay quiet.
The man froze, his fingers centimeters away from touching the keyboard. But just before a fireball hit his character, he stopped the game and slowly turned toward the little figure.
"Damian..."
"Yeah?" Damian asked, head tilted, confused.
"How long have you been watching me?" Sweat beads appeared on the uncle's forehead. "My sister would kill me if Damian heard me swearing... No, make me wish she killed me."
"I just entered," Damian answered, his eyes still locked on the game.
Uncle exhaled. "Gosh, you scared me. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"I couldn't get sleep. Mom isn't home," Damian said, averting his eyes.
"She is staying at my aunt's place." Damian's uncle reached the wheelchair next to him, and with a careful move, he lifted himself, his arm muscles flexed, showing the fruits of his workouts, before switching chairs. He then patted his previous chair. "Here, I let you watch, but only for thirty minutes!"
Damian rushed to the chair and got himself comfy. His eyes sparkled under the monitor light.
"What are we playing?" He asked.
"Beasts & demons, of course, but let me grab you something warm first. It's the transition season, and I can't let you catch a cold."
He moved to his drawer, grabbed a blanket, and tucked Damian inside. "Now, watch it silently."
Damian nodded.
With hypnotic sounds coming from his uncle's headset and the warmth from the blanket, Damian fell asleep not long later.
***
But the warmth was gone now, replaced by the sticky chill of dried blood. The weight of the blanket had become the crushing weight of guilt. Damian opened his eyes. The last bit of warmth from that sweet memory faded as he remembered the dark situation he was in.
"Why that moment of all things..." He pushed himself up. The dead body of the man he killed yesterday was still there, now pale as a ghoul.
[New Quest: Escape the town with supplies before Lyrian Knights arrive.
Time: 4 days 14 Hours 32 Minutes]
"This is the worst outcome." Lyrian Knights were extremely zealous, to the point that seeing them crucify and burn civilian NPCs escaping from monster attacks to purify 'demons hidden in their bodies' was a common and gruesome sight.
"At least I still have time, and these guys are just a bunch of nutjobs, not nearly competent as any other knight order, though they have the numbers and unchecked brutality on their side."
He swiped away the screen. "Still, if yesterday wasn't enough." He mumbled before leaving the room and heading to the last room in the house. "A bathroom."
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A wooden basin filled with water stood before a small mirror. Next to the basin was a wooden bowl to get water and a towel.
Damian entered and began cleaning his hands and face. "Cold, but nice." He thought as he washed his hands.
He then looked at his clothes. "Damn it, they are all ruined." He put all his clothes away and cleaned his body much as he could with the water.
After drying off, he left the bathroom and went to the master bedroom. He glanced out the window. "No sign of the Deathwing, but their saliva is still there."
Not wasting much time, he opened the wardrobe and picked some clothes. "Big for me, but works well enough." He said, looking at his new tunic. "Now, let's find out if they had any hidden funds." Damian crouched and started inspecting the wooden floorboards until he found a loose one. "Bingo." He grabbed a small poach from it.
"About 252 Krots," Damian looked at the wall towards the room where the couple lay dead. "Thank you for this." He bowed forward.
Satisfied with the money, he moved to the first floor and looked for rope. "I feel like this should be long enough," Damian said, tying the rope around his waist to keep his new pants from falling and cutting it with the dagger he got from the man's body. Then he sat on a wooden chair and took a deep breath.
"Everything happened too fast." Damian looked at the dagger, stained with blood. "I killed a man. Almost died twice, and now, I am collecting items like this is a game." He threw the dagger away and grasped his head, his fingers leaving small, white marks on his skin. "What is wrong with me?" He shouted, slamming the floor with his feet at the same time.
But his anger went away quickly.
"I need to survive." He got up. "I must survive." He moved towards the dagger. "And I will survive!" He grabbed it.
"Diablo, you and your patron bastards will see." He clenched his fist.
"Now, inventory, open!" Damian shouted. Expecting the inventory screen from Beasts & Dragons.
[No artificial space found:
Please:
Bound an item with artificial space enchantment to the player or/and learn an artificial space spell.]
Damian's eyes widened. "What? But all characters must have three. Wait, my core!" He touched his chest. "Is it because of that?"
Usually, it was as Damian said, all player characters had these three skills: Level 0 artificial space, one basic elemental spell of choice, and a manaless spell bound to their class.
"Open status screen." Damian opened his stats and swept it until he found his spells screen.
[Spell list:
Artificial Space: Level 0 (locked)
Artisan's sense: Level 1]
"Damn it!" He shouted, looking at his spells. "Not only is my artificial space locked, but I also don't have my elemental spell. I didn't know this thing was so bad. I just reset my game whenever my characters got it. I never bothered looking at it."
Damian sighed. "Alright, old ways it is."
From there, he moved between buildings and gathered enough rope and fabric to make a makeshift sack sturdy enough to carry whatever he gathered.
"I never sewed before, but it should be my class kicking in." He said, looking at his product.
It looked shabby but was surprisingly sturdy.
From there, it was simple.
"Gather enough money, food, and crafting supplies, find somewhere safe and alone to craft things, and grind your class until you start making big bucks."
Money was the key to all his plans. "High-level mages are rare and expensive, and without the help of one, I can't progress to the class of my choice."
With this in mind, he hopped between buildings.
"Stench from yesterday is here." He commented as he passed next to a goo pond with his nose closed.
After hours of looting, Damian gathered tools, dried meat and vegetables, extra clothes, a sturdy spear, and even some fitting boots.
"And now, to my biggest challenge so far," Damian mumbled, crouching near the Deathwing goo pond, a bunch of flasks next to him. "One mistake and your hand is gone, careful now." He repeated as he skillfully dipped one edge of the vial's mouth and let the goo fill it.
And slowly but carefully, he achieved his goal. "This vial can kill mid-game mobs and even critically damage mid-game bosses." He smiled with sparks of hope in his eyes. "You will be my lifeline." He said, looking at the glowing green liquid.
From there, Damian moved to the town's northern exit, and right at the gates, he stopped. "Final inventory check." He put his sack to the ground and inspected his items.
"Tools, nails, rope, and other supplies. I have lots of flour, vegetables, dried meat, a big cheese wheel, and water. The oil lamp from the couple's home, a can of oil, and finally, goo vials, tightly sealed with glass caps, check." He put everything back into the sack.
"It is less than I hoped but should last me plenty enough." He put the sack on his back, glanced at the town, and recalled a memory
"My paladin character always said this when I encountered a dead human NPC. May the sky welcome you with open arms." He fully turned to the town. "So, I am praying for all of you." He closed his hands and bowed down. "May the sky welcome you with open arms."
Without hesitation, he turned around and walked into a nearby forest, using the spear he found as a walking cane. The oil lamp was tied to the end of the spear, swinging with each step he took.
The forest was quiet and also damaged. Many trees snapped in half, and some were consumed by acid. "Deathwings probably scarred all the animals and beasts. I doubt they will approach around here before the stench dies," Damian said, looking at the nearby fauna.
Soon, Damian started humming a song. An annoying one he used to hear on the radio every day. He hated it back then, but now, it reminded him of home.
"Smell fresh." He thought, passing next to wild mint and flowers. "Also nice and breezy." He added after some wind caressed him.
He was relaxed but kept his mind busy. Recalling memories from that town was the last thing he wanted.
He started recalling lore from the game.
"If I am not wrong, this place shouldn't have many wild beasts, but two demon lords should have standing castles in the region. As long as I stay in Empire territory, I am safe. At worst, I can escape to the outskirts of the Holy City in the East."
And with many more thoughts listed in his mind, he kept walking.