I retrieved my pack from inside the auto shop and made my way back to the open garage door at a slow pace. In the distance, I could hear a few screams and what seemed to be more howling. An explosion erupted a mile or two away, briefly illuminating the surroundings.
"What the hell was that?" I murmured, partly to myself.
"My guess is that's where our boss is. We should find a detour if possible. Engaging it directly would be unwise at your level," Tiff advised.
Surveying the street, I considered our next move.
"Maybe we can bypass a few blocks and approach from a different direction. I suspect there's a parade field or something similar in the center of this area where the ships are likely arranged; it's the ideal open space for that," I mused, scanning the area and then glancing back down the street as I outlined my strategy.
"Handling one or two Trimeans at a time should be manageable, assuming there's nothing else lurking here."
"Typically, there's only one species in the tutorial level, though they might vary in rank and type. Let's get moving. Keep an eye out for anything useful, but we need to be quick," Tiff instructed.
I proceeded and stumbled upon what appeared to be a convenience store named The Main Exchange. I had hoped to find some food, water, or gasoline, but it was merely a facade. Clearly, this was designed to mimic an Earth-like setting, but it was far from authentic.
Circling to the rear of The Exchange, I encountered another Trimean. Its back was to me, and it wielded a small club-like weapon resembling a police baton. Observing it, the identification on my display was the same as before:
Trimean Infantry – Level 3
"I'll ambush it from behind," I whispered. Despite Tiff's ability to hear my thoughts, I spoke out of habit.
"Be swift and aim for a single-strike takedown like the previous one," Tiff responded.
I ambushed the Trimean from behind; this time, it had no chance to react. With all my strength, I grasped the tire iron's sharp end and drove it into the back of its bulbous orange head. A sickening, slurping crunch echoed as the tire iron buried itself halfway into its head. The Trimean collapsed and slid off the iron, lifeless.
"Yes! Got him!" I exclaimed in triumph.
Experience gained – 500 Points.
Then, another notification flashed on the interface.
Level up! You are now Level 2. Gain ten stat points per category and five free points. Allocate free points now? Y/N
"Hey, I leveled up!" I told Tiff. I received ten stat points for each attribute and five free points. Should I allocate them now or wait?"
"Wait, you don't know what the class will entail, and we can decide then. You might notice a slight increase in your strength, speed, agility, and toughness. It's normal," she advised.
Indeed, I felt somewhat larger, quicker, and stronger; the change was subtle but noticeable.
"This is amazing," I remarked, repeatedly observing my hands and clenching them into fists.
"Oh, look, he dropped a weapon," I remembered the baton. Picking it up, it felt incredibly light, akin to aluminum. Swinging it, the baton extended slightly to match my size better. Examining the baton more closely, I read:
Common Trimean Body Basher - Level 3
Blunt Force One-Handed Weapon
Abilities - Shocking Pulse
Requirements: Level 3 in any humanoid class.
"It's Level 3. Does that mean I can't use it?" I pondered aloud, "If I defeat two more Trimeans, I could level up again."
"Actually, you can use it without the special abilities; it's still effective for striking. When wielded by someone with the requisite level, the Body Basher generates an electrical pulse on impact, so it is a pretty good melee weapon, much better than a tire iron. To your second point, you will get about half of the experience per kill you got on Level 1 for the same level mob. A Level 4 Mob will give more experience than a Level 3 and so on. Don’t get too hung up on the points per kill since, as you grow, there will be levels that take millions of XP to pass,” she explained, "you did well with those first two enemies, so I feel a little better about engaging a few more on the way to the shipyard, but again, let’s make sure you are as careful as possible."
“Got it. Safety first," I joked.
I was in a dungeon, in space; safety went out the window a long time ago. I started making my way to the center of the base again, moving slowly and trying to take stock of my surroundings. I made it another couple of blocks, and this time, I saw two more Trimeans: one standing in front of the empty office building and one walking away, turning the corner to walk toward the center of the base. They were the same Level 3 infantry mobs as before.
I still had my tire iron, but I had slid it into the netting on the front of my pack and was going to use the baton this time. I ran up to the first Trimean and began swinging. As he turned, I swung the baton and it made contact with the side of his big head. As it tried to gather itself and figure out what was happening, I swung again, hitting it right in the side of the knee. I didn’t know anything about these things’ physiology, but “weak points are weak points,” I thought to myself, and sure enough, he went down like a sack of potatoes. I swung down with both hands, clubbing him in the head repeatedly with the baton. It wasn’t easy like the tire iron; he died slowly, gurgling and choking on his own blood.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Better you than me, buddy,” I said. I never asked to be here, but these guys were trying to kill me and anyone else here like me. I was glad he died slowly.
Once I was done, I decided to try something different. I had those few extra points in dexterity, so I thought I should be able to dual-wield weapons. I pulled out both: baton in my left hand and tire iron in my right. “Yeah,” I said, “this feels pretty good. Now let’s go get that other one.”
I rounded the corner. This one heard me coming. He turned toward me in time to open that giant mouth and started to howl as he rushed me. He never stood a chance as I used the same method as before: baton to the knee. This time, as he fell, I swung the tire iron in my right hand down on his head and finished with another tire iron stab through the head.
“Yeah, I’m getting pretty good at this murdering thing,” I said confidently as I wiped the black blood on the grass.
“Calm down, Rambo," Tiff told me. These are very low-level mobs; don’t get too confident. It is going to get much tougher and quickly.”
“Hey, where is my loot? I’ve killed 4 of these things!” I asked.
“No loot from basic mobs in the tutorial,” Tiff said, “you can receive loot from the boss, and your kill count will help with the gear you receive on your ship. So, again, getting some of these guys on the way was a good idea.”
I was now halfway to Level 3 but I was just ready to find this ship and get away from this place.
“How far do you think the shipyard is?” I asked after another half hour of making our way toward the center of the base. “I know that it would probably be a good idea to farm some of these lower level enemies, but I gotta say getting out of this creepy ass place would also be really nice.”
“Agreed,” Tiff replied. You will soon see the rate of XP from these Trimeans drop significantly. Outside of the boss, killing more of these than you absolutely have to will not benefit you much.
I had killed one more Trimean as I continued pushing my way to the center of the base. There was a bunch of rebar sticking out of some broken road, and when this one rushed at me, he nearly knocked me back into it. Fortunately, I tripped over my own feet and fell before it could push me back into the hole containing the deadly rebar sticking up in the air. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t expect me to fall, and fell over me, right into the hole, impaling himself on the rebar.
"Hey, at least I got the experience,” I shrugged. “That was a close one,” I said, exhaling slowly. I noticed my XP bar was nearly full and that I should hit level 3 with one more kill. “One more kill to Level 3. Let's try to find one more.”
It wasn’t long until I did. Fifteen minutes later, as I got closer to what I hoped was the shipyard, I saw them: Three Trimeans guarding a gate to the parade grounds. Two were the same Level 3 infantry that I had seen this whole time, while the other was a Level 4 Trimean Corporal; he was two feet taller than the infantry variant and stood just a head shorter than me. The Corporal's skin had blue tiger-like stripes, making it very easy to tell the difference. He was asleep on the ground with his back against the wall. The other two were semi-patrolling back and forth in front of the gate.
“I’ve got to get one of the infantry mobs to move away from the other two. I’m going to try and get his attention,” I said. I grabbed a handful of rocks and threw them at the guard shack on the left side of the gate, breaking a window. It worked just as I had hoped as one of the Level 3 Trimeans waddled over to the guard shack and walked inside to investigate the noise.
“One down,” I said, then I took my baton and threw it down the right-side street in front of the other Trimean. Sure enough, he started walking away from the other two. I ran around the building from which I was peeking. I went down behind and crossed the street to the other side. I then ran down toward the Trimean, who was inspecting the baton, and as I did, I saw him. He saw me, and then he howled. “Oh shit!” I said, knowing he would alert the other two mobs. I jumped in his direction and landed on him with my knees, rode him to the ground, and started punching.
My fists were not my best weapon, but in my panic, I could only think about shutting this thing up before the other two guards showed up. These things were stronger than they looked. The Trimean struggled, grasping for my hand, wriggling underneath me as I punched for all I was worth. The ten extra points in strength and stamina were already paying off. I was stronger than just half an hour earlier and could feel the extra power in my punches. I didn’t get winded as early as I thought I should, either. It was weird, but it was also exhilarating.
“Finish him off already!” Tiff said, “Look at your mini map. The other two are moving this way.”
Looking at the right-hand corner of what I decided to start calling my HUD, I saw the two red dots moving my way. I dug my knees into the struggling Trimean, pushed myself up as it grasped for my body and arms, stood over him, and started kicking over and over into his giant orange head. It felt like I was crushing a giant watermelon under my feet. I wasn't dressed for combat, wearing a tan short-sleeved button-up shirt, some old blue jeans, and a pair of old work boots I had kept since before the drop, but they did the trick. Within about ten seconds the Trimean lay there twitching as it died. I saw the XP notification and the level-up notification.
“Hell yeah, let's try this baton for real,” I said, pumping my fist in triumph.
I quickly moved back around the corner as the other two Trimeans approached. As I crouched, I could hear them chittering at each other as they inspected the dead body of their ally.
“I’m gonna run back around the building and come up behind the big one,” I whispered as I started to backtrack quietly, trying to get into a position of surprise. As I rounded the third corner, I slowed and stuck myself to the red brick wall as I peeked around the corner. The two Trimeans were still chittering at each other, seemingly panicked and almost arguing with each other. The Level 4 Corporal was closest to me. I waited for the right moment. As the Level 3 Trimean turned his back and began inspecting the body again, I made my move.
I ran with only the baton in my right hand and the tire iron back in my pack netting.
“You don’t need to do anything. Just hit him, and the ability will activate,” Tiff said, seemingly reading my mind.
I ran straight to the corporal, slid up to his back, and swung. As I made contact, the baton exploded with electricity, a bright white flash of electricity rippling through its body. The Level 4 Corporal fell, twitching in pain. I moved toward the infantry guard before it could even take a step. “Whaaap!” right into the top of the head, followed by a crackling buzz as it fell.
With both guards incapacitated, I immediately pulled out my tire iron and finished them both off with a stab through the head.
“Damn!” I said, breathing heavily, “That thing packs a punch! I'm glad it didn’t get a chance to use it on me!”
“Yeah, it’s a decent weapon at low levels. It was a lucky find, but anything over Level 8 or 9 won’t be fazed by it unless you upgrade it or find a better one,” Tiff said.
I still didn’t receive any loot, but I was at Level 3 and had a quarter of the bar full toward Level 4.
“Okay, I’m gonna head back to the gate and see if I can get an idea of what’s inside,” I said as I moved back toward the gate.
As I made it back to the gate, I saw the shipyard. It seemed to contain hundreds of different types of small spacecraft. Some were very space-age-looking, like what you might see in a sci-fi movie. Some were rectangular, sitting on three pieces of landing gear. A few were even completely round, like giant metal balls. In the middle of the shipyard was a stage area and a console of sorts.
“I’m guessing that is where we need to go. Something on that stage has to tell us which ship is ours,” I said.
“Agreed. Let's see if we can move that way,” Tiff said.
I slowly stepped past the gate into the parade yard, and that’s when I saw it: as soon as I looked at it, the identification popped up:
Trimean Drill Sergeant – Level 8
“Well, fuck me,” I said as the gate sealed behind me.