Hajime waited for any cue from Paulie, dying to learn the secrets to face the horde properly. A mere speech about humility and wisdom would be disappointing, but their instructor began with a peculiar action. Paulie had spun his ax once more like a cane, pacing back and forth in a rhythmic pattern. His colleagues didn’t seem to question this at any moment, either. They just stood there.
Okay, this is awkward. Walking away, he noticed a pebble on the ground. A bit of hacky-sack to pass the time wouldn’t hurt, and he scored a decent 12 in one go. However, as he aimed for a score of 15, kicking the pebble high in the air, he received the fright of a lifetime.
Luck was on his side that day, especially his foot. Within a split second, Hajime couldn’t fathom what caused the pebble to be sliced in half before he could kick it again, but sure enough, he got his answer looking down. It was that goddamn ax, its blade embedded two-thirds into the earth. Never before had he been thankful for keeping his toes.
As suspected, Paulie had his hand stretched, clearing his throat to say, “Sorry about that. I was afraid I lost my touch.”
“Oh, really? Then why not aim for your beard?” Hajime chuckled, shining another pearly white grin with his sharp, hawk-like eyes.
“Boomerang trick shots are too advanced for even my expertise. That aside, I’m surprised you didn’t yell your lungs out, asking why I did such a thing without warning, let alone reason.”
“Simple!” he shrugged, still grinning. “There’s no point in rationalizing how you motherfuckers think and behave. I’m in another world, right? We’re out here to do the same thing: to beat and pulverize everything that breathes. Frankly, I found my people, and now, I only seek better ‘gameplay strategies,’ as the nerds call it. Just don’t make it boring.”
Paulie caressed his chin, returning his expression, if only slightly. “Incredible, Mr. Hajime. His Majesty was right about you in many ways, and you know what?” He pulled out his phone, asking the other line to release the barrier, even the wave of slimes surrounded them like mountains at every horizon. “I expected today’s work to be an hour-long lecture about skills and upgrades, but for the sake of spicing things up, who’s hungry for some fun?”
“I am!” Once again, the P.L.A.Y. trainees bleated in unison like sheep in a flock, except for Hajime. Fun was a main course best served in moments when life was just right.
The squad began their battle against the gooey bastards in a single file, following Paulie as he gave the slimes a “little off the top” of their heads with one or two swings. Those who survived would meet a worse fate at the hands of Hajime’s electric flurry; punch by punch and kick by kick, the smiling menace had returned.
“Remember, everyone!” said Paulie, hacking through slime after slime but with no stain on his flannel shirt at any moment. “The third upgrade option is always unique to every player and is your most powerful skill. Just don’t rely on it too much!”
Indeed, it was advice to take at heart, seeing as Farkas displayed a far deadlier skill than any measly sword or shield. “Wolfsjagd!” he shouted, bearing nine-inch claws that summoned miniature tornados out of nowhere with every swipe. It may not have seemed that bad were it not for the slimes getting reduced to ribbons inside.
“Wow, you love calling out your attacks, man?” said Hajime, speeding through numerous enemies like a car at a deer. “Not gonna lie, that won’t be my forte from here on.”
“To each their own, dude,” Farkas replied. “Just don’t let it get into your head like last time. The first boss is coming soon.”
“Oh, believe me, I won’t. My feet are growing cold, even if you don’t see it!” He cracked his knuckles, his heart beating faster than a rabbit in heat. Even as he took a breather, his always reliable [Tesla Aura] continued obliterating any slime within a 100-meter diameter. He would’ve loved its previous level of raining proverbial lightning from the heavens, but his screen showed him admittedly better options this time.
Choose an Upgrade
Way of the Fist
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The pragmatic rage of ancient quarrel
+45 ATK, -8 DEF, +30 SPD. Gain super skill [Double Knuckle], 3-second cooldown
Way of the Herb
The gentle touch of ancient remedy
+20 ATK, +30 DEF, -15 SPD, +70 HEAL. Gain super skill [Hermes Domain], 4-second cooldown
Way of the Thunder
The overwhelming power of ancient godhood
+100 ATK, -100 DEF, +100 SPD. Gain super skill [Zeus Railgun], 6-second cooldown
Clearly, it was either another boost to Hajime’s raw strength or the new ability to recover from fatal injuries if not careful enough. For a balanced build, he chose the latter in a heartbeat. It wasn’t like a tiny sacrifice to his speed would stop him from sprinting around the planet seven times a second. Farkas could vouch for him on such an unimaginable feat anytime.
The power of self-healing was a no-brainer in more ways than one, especially when Queen Gelatina let out a bellowing screech that echoed across the field. He wished he sweated an entire ocean as his mind betrayed him again with a grueling recollection. Deep down, he knew its noise before the inevitable.
The slime matriarch’s [Constellation Beam] fired at a billionth of a millionth of a second, obliterating her own subjects in the field. Hajime supposed she literally had no heart since she captured the rest of their squad into her acidic mass. His mind agreed he might as well get used to every minute of the experience from now, enduring such stinging agony inside her before a respawn. Then again, snapping back to reality sounded nicer.
He raised his arm, barring what remained of the P.L.A.Y. behind him from coming any closer. “You’re right, Farkas. I can’t afford to be a cocky douchenozzle when facing the horde. If those motherfuckers died for real, I’d never hear the end of it, and neither would you, but for the first time, I feel like I can touch the sky. How about you?”
Farkas let out a lengthy sigh, casually blowing away surrounding foes with a single hand wave. “It’s up to us to decide on that, dude. I hate to admit it, but I’m on my 30th game over since we met. All I knew was that I was always thrilled to fight another day.”
With a clenched fist, Hajime cackled like a Saturday morning cartoon villain. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Streams of electricity ran across his torso and even onto his stylish fade cut. It was a fitting touch that reminded him of his favorite show about simian-like aliens going at each other with absurd power levels.
Each step he took had him darting around the field in a spark, leaving only charred footprints from one spot to the next. One spark, two sparks, and three sparks back—the menace within was fully unleashed as he delivered blow after blow. Queen Gelatina had yet to keep up with her slow charge time, but he remained vigilant at heart, seeing as how she eventually compensated with a simple trick.
The matriarch, growing desperate, fired multiple beams of blinding purple at random. Still, Hajime pushed on with every ounce of his pride within his godlike senses, with the world now seeming like molasses every step of the way. It was another day where his pearly white grin never faded. They should engrave the word fun on his forehead after this, but like all good things, there had to be a satisfying end.
And so, he wished to conclude their one-sided battle with an equally one-sided attack. Though if the expressions of Farkas and Paulie were anything to go by, it was more accurate to call it unorthodox beyond belief.
Hajime leaped into Queen Gelatina’s colossal mass in a single bound, slowly absorbed like a fly on syrup. But if the slime matriarch had any brain cells in her biology, she would know not to consume the one human bug zapper. Too late to regret, too early to die.
Alas, Her Poor Majesty suffered from her insides breaking apart, shaking more and more violently like the sound wave of an MP3 player, until she burst altogether high enough into the clouds. This rain smelled of lavenders and honey, which he didn’t mind much. What he did mind, however, was a long shower.
----------------------------------------
Far behind the scenes once again, the watchful gazes began to exchange interest in the current reborn hero. Perhaps he could fit a niche within their ranks all along, but one of them wasn’t so impressed, gritting their teeth with a furrowed brow.
“Hhm! What shameless arrogance. Yet another lunatic who would be of no help to my people. The Singing Flutes and I are more than enough. We need not of his ilk.”
“Don’t be so confident about your meager party of five, Feuer. The horde won’t rest while you waste your energy on a young master who has shown the most potential since your arrival.”
“Then, let me put that to the test! Let me be ‘enlightened’ by this orc of a creature in a duel! I can wait till Midsummer’s Eve if I must, with all but your utmost permission, Sir.”
“Done. I just hope you won’t murder him too much. I can’t stand the color red.”