Congratulations! You have Number Go Up’d! Welcome to Number Go Up: 7.
For the past several hours, Dick did what Dick did best—curbstomping slimes. It wasn’t all just gompstomping fun—as Dick soon found out, the slimes grew larger, tougher, and more resilient as their levels went up.
But so had Dick. His HP had grown all the way from 80 to 110, and his MP was now a dazzling 86.
“How are you Number Go Up 7 already?” Greg exclaimed. “You’re leveling faster than if we had done that dungeon with the 3x XP multiplier! This isn’t right! Why are there so many slimes here? It doesn’t make any sense!”
“It was Frodo Higgins at the council of Enron who once said you either die a gompstomper, or you live long enough to see yourself become shadowbanned,” Dick said in between stompings.
“Wait, what? How is that relevant? That doesn’t even make any sense!”
“Well, don’t ask me. Take it up with Frodo!” Dick replied, puffing out his chest. “Or was it superman? Might've been superman, actually.”
With such awe-inspiring gains, Dick roflstomped the poor slimes that dared stick to his ankles, making his boots slightly wet. His technique improved bit by bit with each bootstomp. Perfection grew ever-closer.
“Dick! You have eyes but you do not see Mt Tai!” Greg said, crossing his cartoon hands and nodding sagely as Dick megastomped his enemies.
“Get it? Well, I don’t. It was something your predecessor liked saying. Said he’d been transported from a world where everyone belonged to these ‘sects’, and where arrogant young masters randomly murdered the entire family of anyone they didn’t like. The dude went around saying ‘YOU ARE COURTING DEATH’ to literally everyone he met. Cringe AF!”
“Sounds cliche.”
“That’s what I said!” Greg replied, nodding.
“How’d he react to that?”
“He told me I was courting death…”
“You did tell him you can't die, didn't you?”
“Yep. Many times. He didn’t get the memo.”
A moment of silence passed between Dick and Greg.
“Figures,” Dick said at last. “So, what happened?”
“Arrogant young master came across a guy who didn’t take too well to his insults and broke his neck before he could cultivate himself into a floating ball of energy. Too bad. Always wanted to see what that looked like.”
Dick didn’t hear him; he’d returned to slime stomping.
“Ngl, God’s ‘applause’ button’s really starting to grow on me,” Greg complained. “Mood.”
Congratulations! You have killed [Slime] lvl 4. +35 EXP.
Skill [Stomp] has leveled up! [Stomp] lvl 13. +120 EXP.
Congratulations! You have killed [Slime] lvl 5. +46 EXP.
“I’m bored of this shit!” Dick roared as he gigastomped the shit out of a [Slime], depositing its corpse into his inventory.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
“Really? You seemed to be having the time of your life until just now, though?” said Greg, unbelieving.
“Now I’m hungry. INVENTORY! Show yourself, you little fucker!”
The pointlessly large inventory screen popped up, blocking his entire field of view.
“Dick, I get it. You’re a big guy and that comes with a big voice you feel the need to constantly show off. But you don’t need to yell out system commands like you’re arguing with your mother-in-law. Just think about it and it’ll pop up!”
“Well, shit. Fuckin’ ad popups are in your head too? And I thought my world was bad.”
Dick perused his inventory, which consisted of a whole bunch of [Slime Goop] of various levels, and [Starter Meal] x3.
The wooden plate popped into his hand. Complete with a salad boasting the freshest fruit, steamed brown rice, tofu, and a garbanzo bean dip, it was the healthiest food item anyone could ask for—
“Maaaaan!” Dick roared. “That ain’t food! That’s a plate!” He took it, and he threw it on the ground.
“Aww, why’d you waste a perfectly good meal like that?” Greg said, eyeing the trashed food with teary eyes. “Do you have any idea how expensive a meal like that is in this world!?”
“It ain’t food unless it’s meat. Preferably deep fried and injected with salt, fat, and plastic. Especially plastic. Thought everyone knew that?”
“Uh, r-right. I’ll just pretend I never heard that. Well, meat’s a delicacy, but it’s not too hard to come by.”
“Good. Cuz I need burgers. Lots of burgers. Say, Greg? Where’s the nearest town?”
Greg pointed into the distance. “That way, about a half-day’s journey, but—”
~S e v e r a l h o u r s l a t e r~
Dick strolled into town looking for burgers, but was swiftly disappointed. The abominable food vendors only sold fake food, like vegetables, fruits, and other inedible trash.
“Disgusting. It’s a wonder these people haven’t died from malnutrition.”
“Um, actually, their diet’s pretty healthy. You do know that fried chicken and sausages aren’t exactly good for you, yeah?”
“You can’t fool me! Corpos paid billions of dollars to prove that red meat’s healthy,” Dick said smugly.
Greg blinked. “The meat companies… paid lots of money… to fund research that said meat was good. You don’t see the conflict of interest there?”
“The what now? Why don’t you stop talkin’ like a butthead and help me find some cheeseburgers ‘n fries.”
“Dick, there are no burgers in this world. If you want some, you’ll have to make them yourself.”
Dick grinned. “Well, why didn’t you say so before? Status!”
Name: Richard ‘Big Dick’ Hansen
Number Go Up: 7
Class: None
EXP: 750/770
HP: 110/110
MP: 10/10
Perks:
[Slime Stomper I]. Slimes everywhere fear your boots. +5% damage to slimes when stomped underfoot. Go get ‘em, tiger!
Status Effects: None
Stats:
Bignosity: 6 — Hulk SMASH.
Brain: 2 — You ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed, Dick. But that’s okay. The world needs its share of fucking idiots.
Danciness: 1 — You’re about as agile as a turd. No surprise there. I mean, you literally died to a tree.
Physicality: 3 — You’re big, sure. But a lifetime of burgers and fries has left your arteries clogged and diabetes at your doorstep. It’s a miracle you don’t have cancer.
Magic: 1 — You fucking suck. Give up before you embarrass yourself.
Studliness: 7 — The ladies swoon. The men, too.
Skills:
[Walking]: 2 — Turns out everything’s a skill in this world. Even walking. +2% movement speed while walking.
[Stomp]: 13 — Foes fall beneath your heels. You are the Gompstomper, and stomping is what you do. +1.3% damage to enemies dispatched via stomping.
“Um,” said Greg, “Not like anyone else can see it, but why did you just randomly open your status screen in the middle of a crowded street?”
“Japanese comedian Sun Zoo once said, ‘Know thy stats, and in a hundred days, you’ll never go broke.’”