Day 14, 10:30 AM

With the kids safely heading for the surface, it’s time to focus on myself. What do I want to do with my life? The answer is magic. But the most immediate question I need to consider is whether I wish to continue advancing the weapon master class.

The skills I got from it are great, but the requirements for each level were steep and getting steeper. I don’t know what I did to get the third level up notification in the chain, but it could be something like having a master tier proficiency with a weapon or something. And based on where things are going, it’s only a matter of levels before I hit the ‘have five weapon skills at expert’. Hell, it might happen at the next level. After I waste months practicing with the sword to improve the skill to advanced tier.

No, being a weapon master seems like a path of lifetime devotion, while I’m only willing to give it weeks. Maybe not even plural. So, it’s not for me.

I firmly decide I no longer wish to be a weapon master. A moment later, I consider whether there are any lingering regrets, and I find one; Grandmaster Staffmanship, but there’s no way to guarantee I would ever reach it, given my latest level up choices. I close my eyes, and meditate on my thoughts. Am I really fine with letting go of this class? The rewards are great, the requirements too high. No, they aren’t worth it.

With my heart settled, the next thing is to remind myself to never ever rush, or take too great a risk, or act in a manic way. I don’t want to see the battle maniac class ever again. It’s too self destructive, and the double-edged skills will stick even when I opt out of the class.

What I’m going to do is delve down, calmly, slowly, and systematically until I reach the thirty-fifth floor.

Then, I will reconsider my options.

Yes. That’s perfect.

Clearing the fourteenth floor is a matter of routine. I don’t pick any plants, no matter how valuable, I can’t risk stumbling into being a herbalist once again and losing nine levels of Fyoor’s progress, which I got for free by possessing his body.

Floor after floor, shiny rocks, nuggets of metal, and chipped gems slowly fill my bag. By the end of the fourteenth day in this world, my sack is a quarter full, floor eighteen is clear, and I’m half-asleep on the branch above the stairway to the nineteenth floor.

The next day I clear another four floors, and the Guide informs me I’ve gotten my first attribute point, again.

I invest it into physique, upping it to twenty-two. Unfortunately, my class is still the weapon master.

I sigh. I’m hardly winded, with enough stamina left for at least another floor or two. It’s tempting to just keep clearing the floors, but I stop myself. No getting carried away, no succumbing to my baser instincts. Battle maniac is a thick, heavy stick looming over my butt.

Instead, I light a fire and fix myself some roasted centipede. It sounds disgusting, and I never would’ve tasted it if not for the kids screaming about finding a delicacy when we killed our first one. Funny thing, it tastes like chicken. It must be some universal thing for humans that all meat with weak flavor tastes like boiled, unsalted chicken breasts.

I stare at the fire, ruminating on how to proceed until the meat is ready. The giant centipede’s carapace snaps as I crack it open and enjoy the soft, pale flesh. It’s like eating crab or lobster, if you don’t think about it.

Unfortunately, I think about it. I eat my definitely centipede until sated, leaving the rest behind. For some reason, the meat dries very quickly and becomes rubbery if you let it cool, so it has zero value as trail rations.

I wonder how it decays, and whether you could use it for crafting or something similar?

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

My idle thoughts drift towards making a fridge, and I know one thing. Even if my body’s still able, my mind is wandering. So, instead of taking the stairs, I take a two-hour-long nap, and head down fresh and completely rested. The dungeon has no cycle of day and night, and there’s no reason not to listen to my body and follow my own rhythm.

The twenty-third and twenty-fourth floors are much the same as the ones before, with more bugs and more generous donations for my sack of stones. As the twenty-fourth floor’s darkness descends, it comes with a pleasant surprise.

[You have leveled up.

Select a skill within sixty seconds or a random one will be assigned to you.

Treasure Sense - You are drawn to precious resources and valuable artifacts.

Hazard Sense - You are instinctively aware of nearby natural, inanimate hazards.]

I frown, confused for a split instant, before understanding what just happened. I have changed my class and gotten my first level without even realizing it.

The skill choice is a no brainer, I exert my will and pick Hazard Sense. I can always earn more money, staying alive takes priority.

I check my new class, cavern explorer.

Huh? So, BSD either doesn’t recognize this as a dungeon, or it has no concept of dungeons, or maybe there is a dungeon centered class, but I didn’t get it. The pace at which my mind finds possible answers just tells me how little I actually know about BSD and how it influences my life. Unfortunately, that’s another matter I’m helpless with, so I focus on what’s in front of me.

Cavern Explorer. There is an obvious problem with the class, I can tell by its name. It’s focused on exploring, not on combat, but do I really need more combat prowess? A level six weapon master can probably wipe the floor with most other warrior classes at the same level. That’s without taking into account my godly abilities or years of experience.

Besides, I wish to walk the path of a mage in this world, having a class focused on perception and survival might actually be a good thing.

The level up condition is pretty simple too, explore three caverns. I bump my physique to twenty-three and head towards the stairs.

By the time I clear the thirtieth floor, I have reached the second level of my new class, added Initial Darkness Intuition to my skill list, and pushed my physique to twenty-five after the Guide awarded me another bonus attribute point two floors ago.

My new level up condition is to find a hidden chamber in a cavern I’m exploring. So far, I have tried my best, but the dungeon either has no hidden chambers, or they are too well hidden. Maybe there are some on the lower floors? Hard to tell, maybe the next floor has one. Or the one after?

The dungeon calls to me. Not in a literal sense, but making myself stronger in such a short time is more addictive than cocaine. I sit down at the entrance to the stairway leading down to the next level. The promise of hidden chambers, of levels, attribute points. It almost makes my hands shake. A bad sign.

The Guide can’t hear my thoughts unless I want it to. I have confirmed that already. So, what’s the deal with it? I understand that the general idea is to have various people challenge the dungeon, kill the monsters, and slowly sap the power from the imprisoned wormlord, but why make it addictive? Is it just me because I can delve deeper and faster than regular people? What happens when people die inside the dungeon? Do they return their vitality to it? To the wormlord?

Something feels off. I just can’t put my finger on it. While I am descending floors much faster than average Joe, that just means Joe does it slower, but he still does it. That, in turn, means the addiction I feel because of its suddenness is something people don’t notice, because it happens over a longer period of time. But slowly or quickly, it doesn’t matter with addiction, in the end you’re hooked.

I’m tempted to turn around and leave. It’s happening slower, the process is more controlled, but I’m falling into the same manic pattern which destroyed my life once. More than once.

On the other hand, attribute points are also damn tempting.

What the hell are you thinking? I turn around and leave. A small fortune of various minerals weighs my sack, I have gained some wealth, enough attribute points, and I have more matters to discuss with Edna.

I check BSD, Redo is on cooldown, and I stop.

I’ll delve deeper until Redo is no longer red. Then I’m out of here.

And yet another part of me grins, aware my extra time here will land me an extra attribute point or two.