With how packed the safe zone is getting, it’s hard to find a free spot for the night. I have an idea, but it’s all kinds of risky. Even so, I pass it by Emily.
“What do you think?” I ask when I’m done explaining.
She nods, and I give up on trying to get more out of her.
The idea itself is nothing too complicated or time consuming, but it would put us outside of the perimeter for the night. A few years back, an attempt was made to modernize our little town with a few apartment buildings. They’re only four hundred feet or so away from the safe zone, separated from the downtown area by a small park.
Everyone who lived there is currently in the safe zone, leaving a bunch of apartments unoccupied. When the monsters first appeared, William decided not to try adding those buildings to the safe zone due to the logistical nightmare of extending the barricades that far.
The two of us leave the safety of the perimeter and, as we stroll through the park, I claim the reward from the Kent quest. The experience floods me, tingling my skin as I level up and the eight set attribute points get allocated.
As for the free points, my first instinct is to dump all of them into constitution. I really need to be able to survive more damage. Then I remember I’ve already been through this once before, and I abstain. I’m not a tank, I’m a damage dealer. I divide the eight free points four ways between constitution, agility, essence, and spirit. Strength tempts me as well, but that’s already my highest attribute since it gets four of the eight set points from each level-up.
After I’m done, my character sheet changes to reflect the new distribution.
Jack Harrington - Level 4.
Race: Human, Male.
Titles: Power Hungry.
Class: Wavebreaker (expert).
Class Stage: Basic.
Experience to next level: 754/88708.
Health: 240/240.
Mana: 50/50.
Stamina: 240/240.
Attributes
Constitution: 16.
Strength: 20.
Agility: 16.
Perception: 8.
Charisma: 6.
Essence: 5.
Spirit: 4.
I also have a skill point, and I use it to unlock Dash. I could’ve upgraded Ground Pound with it, and despite my reservations, an upgrade to Battle Frenzy tempted me as well. But I really need a way to reposition on the battlefield fast.
“Give me a bit of room,” I tell Emily. “I’m about to test a new skill and I’m not exactly sure how it works.”
She complies, taking a few steps to the side. I nod and activate Dash, but nothing happens right away. Not until I try jogging towards the buildings. I burst into movement, going from zero to a hundred in a couple of steps. The sheer speed is astounding, leaving me no time to react or maintain control. I cover the range of the skill in the blink of an eye, but even though it runs out, I don’t slow back down.
I still have a ton of momentum left.
A park bench appears in front of me, and I trip over it. My legs instantly break as the collision sends me tumbling head over heels, and I don’t stop until I hit a tree. It groans and nearly topples as I fold around it.
“Fuuuuu…”
I slid to the ground as every part of my body throws up alarms. Even at a glance, I can tell that I have more broken bones than I can count on both hands. My health is down to a quarter, I doubt I would’ve survived without the extra levels and the increase in constitution.
Emily rushes over to me, panic evident in her every move. She helps me into a sitting position, and as we wait for my body to heal, I explain what the hell just went down.
“So that skill’s unusable,” I complain. “Fuck me.”
She looks like she wants to say something, but she holds back. I take deep breaths, focusing on that as the system rearranges my bones and the pain dies down little by little. It takes the better part of twenty minutes for it to be done, for me to be able to move again, but phantom pain still lingers in my legs.
“I’m okay,” I say as Emily helps me up. “Let’s go.”
She nods. We get on the move again, trying the handful of buildings one by one. The main entrances all have fancy electronic locks that need keycards to open, but with the power out for a few days now, they’re all unlocked. Gaining entry to the actual apartments is a bit trickier, though, since those doors use standard keys.
I could break my way in with the sledgehammer, but I don’t want to ruin someone’s home. So instead, we climb the outside of a building. Emily goes first, scaling the walls like a ghost as she uses window sills and balconies for handholds. The buildings are three stories tall, but she reaches the top in moments.
She finds a balcony door that opens, so I go up next, surprised at how easily I can pull it off. It’s as if I weigh next to nothing as I pull myself from one ledge to the next.
We split our food equally and, after we eat dinner on the balcony, we go inside to sleep. Sunlight is almost gone, and we fumble around in the dark until we find the bedroom. Predictably enough, there’s only one queen sized bed.
“Go ahead,” I tell Emily as I turn to leave.
She crashes into the bed without complaint, and I make my way to the living room, crashing on a couch. A few minutes later, we’re both fast asleep.
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We sleep through the entire night, undisturbed by either people or monsters. I do wake up a few times to the sounds of gunshots and skills going off, but after checking and finding small groups of monsters that the defenders can take care of, I go back to sleep. I also check up on our new metallic space neighbor every time, but it’s still in the same place, quietly orbiting the moon.
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Come morning, we clean up after ourselves before leaving. Emily goes first, climbing down as nimbly as she climbed up. I sigh and get going myself, leaping to a balcony on the second floor. Once there, I take a moment to breathe and contemplate what I’m about to do. Last evening, the Dash skill sent me crashing into a tree at well over a hundred miles per hour. And while it was nasty, I survived.
It left me wondering just how durable we are. How durable I am after that last level-up.
Before better judgment has a chance to catch up, I jump over the railing and straight to the ground. I pass Emily on the way down and hit the sidewalk on my feet, forced down to one knee. Pain shoots up through my legs and spine, but nothing breaks. I grit my teeth and stand straight as Emily lands deftly next to me.
She looks me over, worry thick in her eyes. I strain myself and force a smile.
“It’s good, I’m fine.”
Emily slaps me over the head. “Don’t do that again,” she warns.
“Sorry,” I say as we get going. “But I didn’t do it just for the hell of it. I’m testing the new limits of my body.”
She gives me an inquisitive look, the question clear in her eyes. Are you satisfied?
“It’s good enough for now,” I say, “but I wonder what a few more levels will do. It still hurt this time, but I get the feeling that, with a couple more levels, a fall like that will be nothing. Like stepping off a curb.”
The way Pops made his entrance when we first arrived comes to mind. He currently has the highest level in our group as far as I know, but he’s only an adept difficulty class. If I keep at it, I’ll overtake him in terms of attributes with just one or two more levels.
The thought is as scary as it is exciting. If the system pushes our bodies this hard from the beginning, how will the late stages look? Will we have a bunch of supermen running rampant across the globe?
I abandon that train of thought as we enter the safe zone proper. Unlike yesterday, I’m pleasantly surprised by what we find. People go around in an ordered fashion, picking every building clean. Owners haggle with William’s men in their doorways, comparing notes as they’re handed bonds written and signed by the big man himself. Men and women stream out around them, carrying armfuls of supplies.
“Why aren’t you using your inventories?” I ask, stopping one of them.
“We are,” the woman answers. “But most of the items don’t stack, so everyone’s inventories get filled fast.”
I nod, and she keeps walking. Further into the safe zone, we find the central street filled with monster corpses in the process of being butchered. The sidewalks on both sides are filled with cooking stations, be them gas or coal grills, stoves, even a few fire pits with boiling pots hanging over the flames.
A lot of the food stores funnel into this area, where the newly appointed chefs try their best to balance nutrition with taste. Lines of people are already forming, but Emily and I cut to the front as we go around. No one complains.
We take a bit of everything, and I take a while to question the workers. Their classes are as varied as their owners, but most of them went for either novice or adept difficulties. All except for two people who picked master classes. The first is the head chef, with a class fittingly named Chef de Cuisine. His skills, once he’ll actually unlock them, will all revolve around coordinating the others.
The second man has the more interesting class, something called a Distinguished Saucier. He has a table all to himself, where he prepares, as the name of his class suggests, sauces.
Said sauces get added to the food in very small amounts by the others, but apparently, they have a big impact on taste and even give a small buff after eating the dish.
Since he’s in charge of things here, I go talk to the head chef. He’s a sixty something year old man named Mitch, with a short temper befitting his position. We can hear him having a meltdown from half a block away.
“What’s up with professional chefs having short fuses?” I whisper to Emily.
She shrugs.
I’m not sure what to expect from the man as we approach him, but I get an earful right away. These working conditions are terrible. He needs a proper kitchen and more competent staff. The butchers working so close to his stations are cross contaminating everything, they need to be moved to their own area.
I listen and take mental notes, but I don’t make any promises. Space inside the safe zone is at a premium right now, as is our manpower. After ten minutes packed with all kinds of complaints, the man finally calms down enough for me to ask my questions.
“Are they gaining any experience from cooking?”
“System experience? Yes. Proper kitchen experience? No,” Mitch answers. “You won’t catch me giving them a referral for future jobs.”
“What about the foods themselves?” I continue, ignoring his rambling. “Does the system give you recipes, or…”
“We have to make the recipes ourselves,” he says. “I’ve been busy developing a few of them overnight, but the selection of ingredients is abhorrent.”
“Focus.”
“Right. Like I said, I developed the recipes myself. They look like normal food up until they’re plated, but then, the system grades them and gives them effects. I’m guessing it’s based on a slew of things, like the quality of the ingredients, the balance of flavors, and the skills of the cooks making them.”
“Interesting,” I say.
“It called my first attempts scrap porridge. Scrap! Porridge!” He yells, sounding pissed the hell off. “The quality was only listed as edible!”
“That’s all we need right now,” I say with a shrug. “But just hang in there, I’m sure it’ll get better with more levels and better ingredients.”
“It better,” Mitch grumbles, crossing his arms and turning to leave. As he walks away, he mumbles scrap porridge under his breath.
I share a look with Emily, and by her expression, I figure she doesn’t know what to make of the man either.
We find a secluded place further down the street where we finish eating, and I get a status effect out of it.
Status effect gained: Well Fed - Level 1.
Description: You have consumed a hearty meal prepared by a skilled chef. The balanced taste fills you with energy, and the richness of the dish keeps you feeling full for longer, aiding your body’s natural healing abilities.
Effects: +2% stamina regeneration; +5% saturation; -3% caloric consumption when healing.
Duration: 7 hours, 57 minutes, 33 seconds.
I raise an eyebrow. Although the boosts aren’t huge by any means, they come from the most basic dishes possible. That means they’ll only get better in time.
“Come on, let’s go. We have a few more things to check out.”
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We hit up the police station next, where we find Karen, James, and William sleeping. Little Willy is manning the front desk, answering questions and directing people in the absence of his boss.
As it turns out, the three of them had a busy night. Taking care of everyone and everything kept them up until the early hours of the morning, so I don’t disturb them.
“What about Kurt? The guy with the explosives?” I ask.
“He’s a real pain,” little Willy answers. “They had to make a run for him in the middle of the night, he insisted he needed equipment from the school’s chemistry labs and supplies from all over the place. And as if that’s not bad enough, the fighters had to drag him along to get him a few levels. But you said it’s urgent, so we did it.”
“I said it’s urgent?”
“Yes. You said it, then chief William ran with it.”
I get a few more details out of the man, but he doesn’t know much besides what he already shared. William’s men made an improvised lab for Kurt in a building at the periphery of the safe zone just in case he blows something up, and he’s been in there for the latter half of the night.
Other than that, things seem to be going smoothly. Our ammo reserves are back up to decent levels, and a few ex officers are in the process of sorting out the station’s armory.
“What’s the plan for today?” I ask.
Little Willy shrugs. “You’ll have to ask the chief.”
“Okay. Tell him to look for me when he wakes up, we’ll be on guard duty for the morning.”
“Tell him to look for you?”
“Yeah. Or to send someone to get me. Either works.”
He looks like he’s about to say something else, but I don’t give him the chance. I take off, and Emily gladly follows.