[http://i.imgur.com/PIdVapf.gif]
CHAPTER 9: ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST
“Yes, yes, I’ll be there. I haven’t forgotten. Next Saturday. Yeah.” Which leaves me only another week to find a gift for the little monster.
Juggling the phone to my other hand, I peruse today’s mail and pick up a postcard. Just from the candid nude on picture side, I can tell who send it. I repress a sigh. Why can’t I have normal friends?
Birds of a feather flock together.
Shush thou, bird of ill omen.
I return my attention to the conversation I’m having over the phone. “No, Dan, I’m not avoiding you.” Flipping off the light of the living room, I make my way to my bedroom. “I’m fine. I swear. I’m just stuck in a dungeon and it’s kind of boring, so I haven’t played much lately… Yeah. That’s why you haven’t seen me online.” I’m actually grateful the curse didn’t go as far as changing my name in my friends’ contact list in-game. That would have been awkward. “Yeah, I’ll call you if I need any help…Hey! That was mean. It’s not that rare for me to ask for—okay it is…Okay. See you.”
I hang up and returned my eyes to the postcard, flipping it after a quick look at the naked brunette on the picture side. And nope, that’s not a picture of the sender. My circle of friends suffers from a distinct lack of sexy exhibitionists brunettes. Too bad. Although, I know who took that photo, and he’s very male. I’ve come to recognise his style, even if I have no eye for photography as an art. Force of habit.
“So, what’s that guy at right now?” And where? The stamp says the Philippines, but I know the guy too well to assume he’s still there. He might be halfway across the globe by now.
Maybe if you read what he wrote?
I know! I’m on it. Give me two seconds. Geez.
“So what’s it say?”
Hey! Nick, cobber, how are you?!
I’m writing with one ripper piece of news!
I’ll be coming through that rainy country of yours soon! It’s been a while we didn’t meet up in real life, hasn’t it? Bloke, I can’t wait. It’s been too long. You moved on your own, right? Mind if I crash? That’d be amazing.
Friendly love and hugs, Aapeli.
PS: Like the photo? That’s Carmen. Met her by accident when I overturned her canoe in El Nido. The girl’s got amazing talent. She just owns the camera, right? I might make her the star of my next project. I’ll call it…“Beauté”!
“Why would you use a French word to name a photography project about an Italian girl you met in the Philippines?” But, hey, what do I know about art?
But this isn’t the time to worry about that.
Slowly, I reread the card. “He’s…coming…here?” Oh. That’s bad. That’s really, really bad. I like the guy, but he is not staying in my flat. I already have Mary next door to deal with. I don’t want an audio porn show inside my home. I require my three hours of beauty sleep! And that would be definitely impossible with that unrepentant womaniser under my roof…ceiling.
Maybe we could get him to stay at Mary’s.
Mmmmh…The idea has merit…but no.
The one thing I want even less than listening to his nightly business is stumbling upon him sleeping naked in the hallway.
Not like we haven’t seen all of him naked under various angles, lighting and colour filter…
Please don’t remind me.
I’m your subconscious. It’s my job to remind you of trauma.
I hate you.
Love you back~
I fetch the phone, which I had dropped on the bed, and quickly type a simple reply to Aapeli.
[No. You’re not staying here. Book a hotel room.]
And…send. After a couple second of reflexion, I send another message.
[And stop sending me pictures of naked people.]
Yeah. It was time I set down my foot on that one. I enjoy pictures of sexy ladies as the next healthy heterosexual young male, but knowing that I know someone who knows those girls makes me…uncomfortable. It’s like watching erotic pictures of someone you kinda know but not really, just enough to feel awkward about it.
With my limited social circle dealt with, I lay down in my game pod and log into Untold Tales.
* * *
“UT Command. Open [Status Window].”
Status Window
Avatar Name: Victoria Sangbleu (Elric Walker) Level: 18 (127) Race: Dhampir (Human) Class: BloodSoul (Solar Knight) Gender: Female (Male) Subclass: Princess (–) Marital status: Widow (Single) Alignement: Darkness, Chaos (Sun) Affiliation: Kingdom of Erwyn (–)
Titles Ageless Beauty, Army Slayer, Awakened, Betrayed, Broken Heart, Cannibal, Chaos’ Apostle, Cult Founder, Death Addict, Defender of Cuteness, Demon Slayer, Destroyer of Relics, Dorothy’s Big Brother, Dragon Slayer, Enemy of Order, Exhumer of the Past, Experimenter, Explorer, Flower Enthusiast, Free Spirit, Gambles with Fate, Happy-Go-Unlucky, Harbinger of Subjective Justice, He Who Stops Children’s Cries, Heretic, Human Cataclysm, Immortal Exiled Princess, Indirect Slaughterer, Legendary Daylight Seamster, Lich Slayer, Lilith’s Toy, Living Legend, Loved by the Sun, Merfolk’s Public Enemy Number One, Mermaid Princess’ Trusted Confident, Myth Slayer, One Stalked by the Gods, Phoenix Slayer, Princess of Erwyn, Progenitor, Sweet Tooth, Royals’ Least Favourite, Salami Slayer, Sheltered Lady, Suicide Warrior, Suicidal Food Tester, Suspicious Candyman, Temple’s Bane, This is not what it looks like I can explain, Tormented Soul, To The Last Breath, Trickster, Under Influence, Unlawful
Body & Soul Health: 140 (4,970) Mana: 6,770 (2,720) Stamina: 150 (5,150) Reputation: 1,000 (37,030)
Basic Stats Strength (STR): 15 (215) Wisdom (WIS): 245 (133) Agility (AGI): 37 (182) Intellect (INT): 277 (172) Vitality (VIT): 14 (197) Charisma* (CHA): 265 (137)
Additional Stats* Dexterity: 22 (78) Leadership: 40 (14) Divine Affinity: 219 Luck: 49 Endurance: 79 (102) Nobility: 58 (–) Erudition: 81 (69) Perception: 97 (57) Intuition: 45 (45) Tenacity: 158 (98)
Prime Magical Affinities Fire: 2 Low Nature: 1Mid Water: 2 Mid Void: 2 Low Air: 1 Mid Light: [Locked] (2 High) Earth: 1 Mid Darkness: 3 Low
Sub Magical Affinities Blood (Darkness): 2 Low (–) Mind (Darkness): 1 Low Holy (Light): [Locked] (2 High) Poison (Nature): 1 Low Ice (Water): 1Mid Runes (Void): 2 Low Lava (Fire): 1 Low Soul (Darkness): 2 Low (1 Low) Lightning (Air): 1 Low
Remaining SP: 10 *Stat Points cannot be added to this stat.
I sigh.
Three weeks.
That’s actually twelve weeks in-game.
And I progressed only this much. Two levels in three months, under level twenty-five? That’s worse than…*gasp*…a casual player!
I am ashamed…
Like you should.
But it’s to be expected! I’m locked indoors with little to nothing to do!! It’s not my fault!
At least I have an enchanted wardrobe. With access to a seemingly endless supply of cloth, I’ve been practising my sewing. I now made exquisitely cute teddy bears. And little stuffed bats! And giraffes!
Why giraffes?
Because I like giraffes.
And it sure improved my [Dexterity]. So it’s not all bad.
Playing darts also helped.
[Endurance] increased too…but sadly that stat has nothing to do with stamina. The name is misleading, but [Endurance] influences only resistance to physical pain…I’ve been practising that. Not on purpose. But climbing the stairs from the bottom to the top of the tower still leaves me panting.
And I trip.
A lot.
…
I’ve been working on my [Strength], okay?! But my daily three push-ups aren’t very effective.
I’ve been wondering. Really, what’s up with that pathetic stamina? I’m half-undead. Shouldn’t I have at least half-infinite stamina?!
However, half-infinity is supposed to work.
It’s like I picked up the worse of both human and vampire. I still have no idea if I would burn in the sun—because the weather here is stuck on “Scotland”—but I know I need both normal food AND blood to survive. I have two [Satiety] bars now! Well, one is technically labelled [Bloodthirst]. But that’s beside the point.
The point is: I have no normal food here!
I’ve already starved to death. Thirty-two times. Thirty. Two. Bloody. Times! You know what it’s like to starve to death THIRTY-TWO TIMES IN A ROW?!?! No, of course, you don’t.
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Well, let me tell you.
It’s not a pleasant feeling.
There, it’s said.
With another sigh, I drop onto my large fluffy canopy bed, amongst fluffy pillows and fluffy plushies.
Do you know that “plushies” is also a term to designate plushophiles, people whose sexual fantasies involve stuffed animals?
OF COURSE I KNOW! There’s no way I don’t know if you know it. That doesn’t give you the right to taint the purity of my enjoyment of plushies!
…my enjoyment of plushies…
……enjoyment of plushies…
…………enjoyment of plushies…
…………………enjoyment of plushies.
“AAAAARGH!!” I bury my face into the comforter. It’s tainted! My plushies! Stupid brain! Stupid dirty-minded male me who can’t get that image out of my head!
What has been thought, cannot be unthought.
Give me back my innocence!
Your…what?
Isn’t that the divine weapon stuff exorcist use in D. Gray-Man?
So you want to fight against Akuma?
I’m battling my inner demons.
That would be me.
I know.
…
……
………
I raise my head from the quilt. I must say, laying prone in this body always brings out interesting sensations. Do all women always feels this horny or is it just me? Or maybe it’s the male me who feels aroused by my female form…
Either way, this is bothersome.
I look down at my—decently well-endowed—cleavage. I’m not wearing a bra. Not as a statement of anything. There weren’t articles of underwear any in the wardrobe. And I’ve been too busy with sewing stuffed toys to get around looking up how to make underwear on the internet.
I’ll admit. I’m also a bit scared of what I may find.
Point is, those things are rubbing against my dress and I need to do something about it.
…
Well, we are alone right now.
…
That is true.
…
……
………
…………( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
* * *
After a very…err…rewarding…err…relaxation session in the gratifying company of…myself, I am now…bored again. Satisfied and refreshed, but bored, though refreshed. One of the good points of this body is that it doesn’t sweat. I guess that’s when the undead part finally kicks in. Which is good. Seeing as I cry blood, I was a bit afraid of the result of exerting myself.
Well, anyway…
Laying sprawled on the bed, I sigh.
I’m really starting to get fed up of this tower. It has gotten to the point where I’m hoping one of those guys who’ve been appearing in the valley would finally succeed and get to my room— if only to break the monotony.
But none of the challengers yet have gotten passed the Dullahan duo guarding the throne room, where the entrance to my secret tower is located. In fact, only five amongst all those challengers have managed to even get to Headison and Tazius—those are their names—let alone past them. Besides, none of these five players would have stood a chance against the boss in the throne room.
Because it’s a Soul Dragon, ya know? It breathes spiritual flames, ya know? It’s really strong, ya know?
Hoy, hoy, hoy, I’ve thought this before but, dungeon, isn’t your difficulty level just too high?
It’s too high, I tell you!!
In fact, if not for my convenient affinity with destroying the undead by means of setting them on fire—well, my former affinity—even I would have had troubles clearing this place. Without the power to turn legions of zombies into ashes in a single spell, they quickly become a dangerous nuisance. And I am…was…one of the strongest players of the game. Those wannabe heroic knights clearly belong to the average player base.
Sigh…
Where’s my streetwise Hercules to fight the rotting mobs?
Sitting up on the bed, I crawl to the end of the mattress, extend a regal finger towards the large cheval glass standing in the room and touch— touch— toooooouch—!!
My hand hangs uselessly in the air a few inches away from the mirror.
“Why…can’t…I…reach?!”
It’s too far.
Why am I so short?
Victoria, are you really a super vampire overlord? Because I can’t see it.
I step off the mattress, go around the mounted mirror and push it closer to the beee—!!
One second, please.
I reposition myself, shoulder against the frame, and push it clooo—“SHHHHHH-ugar!!”
I set my back against the mirror and puuuuush it a “…little…clo…ser…to…the…BED!!”
The mirror slides a handful of inches and I fall to the carpet, exhausted.
After a few seconds panting on the floor, I stand up.
Okay. Let’s try this again.
Climbing back onto the mattress, I extend my finger nonchalantly and regally. As I touch the mirror, ripples distort my reflection. It’s like in the first Matrix movie, but without the mirror melting to cover my fingers and swallow me.
The reflection is soon replaced by the image of a long and dark corridor. At one extremity, two headless armours are guarding a large black door engraved with Bluerose’s crest—a rose. No one else is there.
“Tsk.” With an annoyed click of my tongue, I swipe my fingers across the mirror, changing the image like I would on a cell phone. This ancient artefact can be surprisingly modern in some ways. Now, it shows a hall filled with moaning corpse walking around in a drunken fashion. Nothing alive to be seen here either.
The skeletons’ courtyard also reveals nothing.
Same for the goblin area.
I continue hopping channels for a while. Where is the new challenger? They usually arrive at fixed interval. On a side note, I don’t know why they haven’t agreed to wait at one spot for the next to show up and try to take on the dungeon as a group. It can’t be too hard to set up a forum page for the quest and announce it, can it? Maybe the quest says it’s a single reward. I haven’t checked in a while. But even then, why not form a group and then roll for the reward?
I really don’t get people.
Well, maybe there are other reasons.
This place is really dangerous after all. Staying at the same spot for a long time might not even be an option.
Anway, where are you, little challenger? Yoohoooo~ Don’t run away from Big Sis Vicky’s magical CCTV. No. Not here. Not there. Nope. Not here either. Dang, he can’t be dead already, can he?
Ah. No. There he is.
Finally, I find whom I’ve been looking for.
Engaged in a battle against a [Putrescent Acid Salamander] in one of the sewers tunnel is a human swordsman covered in wounds, grime, and gore—lots of gore. Even then, he looks…passably dashing? What with his tattered cloak and wild messy hair. I’d say he looks dashing in this odd uncough kind of way. If I were into men, I think I might feel attracted to this guy…might…and only his looks. His brains are clearly damaged.
Otherwise, why would he be dual-wielding two longswords in a narrow, low-ceiling tunnel?
I’m all for looking cool, but there is a clear line between the slight inconvenience necessary to achieve awesomeness and pure and simple idiocy.
Really? You are aware of that?
…It’s a thin line.
I watch the man battle against the undead amphibian with mild interest while pretending to eat popcorn. Surprisingly, he survives and kills the salamander. Not bad. Not bad at all. Though he did stab himself in the thigh after one of his swords bounced against a wall.
Cretin.
Bored again already—I have a short attention span—I get up from the bed and start pacing around the room. Every now and then, I cast quick glances at the mirror to keep track of the man’s slow progression.
Distractedly, I retrieve a small dagger from my inventory and slash at my arm. Droplets of blood trickle out of the wound, but instead of dripping down, they float into the air and coalesce into a ball. Under my mental nudging, the ball twists, splits, fuses back, spins and orbits my head in various patterns. This continues for a while, until eventually the ball stops mid-twirl, loses its cohesion, and splashes onto the red carpet, which promptly absorbs it.
“Mmmmh…” I contemplate where the stain on the carpet should have been. [Higher Hemokinesis] is really an interesting skill. One thing is, although this is clearly magic, I don’t need to use any mana for it, at least none of my mana pool. After some experimentation, I think I’ve figured out why.
My hypothesis is that any my blood already possesses some level of mana density within itself. Any quantity separated from my body thus conserves a set amount of magical energy, like a kind of battery. It is that energy which is consumed when I use the skill. Any transformation or movement I impose to the blood depletes the “battery” but leaving the blood unused, in a bowl for example, apparently, doesn’t. Although I think the energy depletes over time, even when not used. Of course, coagulated blood is useless.
Although, I need to test this further to be completely sure. I’ve only started to get a feel for how far I can push a given amount of blood.
Glancing towards the mirror, I see the player struggling against a pair of giant mutilated rats…weird. I’d have sworn there were four rats there, two attacking from the front, and two from behind. Well, anyway, he’s still far away from reaching the dullahans, so I decide to continue my training in the meantime.
Gods, I hate training.
But I am so booooooored!!
And so weak.
This is a curse!
…Yeah. It is. Literally.
Ah. Right.
The previous cut has already healed, so I make another with my dagger. This time, instead of levitating the blood, I chose to immediately crystallize it into a pair of red rings. Solidifying the blood seems to slow down the depleting process…I think? I’ve been conducting experiments on that…and, more importantly, crystallized blood makes really pretty jewellery.
I slide the rings to each of my middle fingers and observe my hands with a contented smile. They have a very nice shade of red. It’s like a dark, slightly opaque ruby. I can’t help but think it complements my white skin nicely. Any touch of colour does, really, but red suits me best.
I look again at the mirror, and to my surprise, the doofus has actually reached the dullahans’ corridor! Just how long have I been admiring my own hands?!?!
…
*cough*
And how unexpected! I thought that guy would behead himself way before he got there with those silly long swords of his. Plus, there is that one room, just before the corridor, where an undead spider ambushes you from behind right after you defeat the four undead dogs in the room. Most of the players who managed to get there got caught by the arthropod. Zut! I’m annoyed to have missed watching how he dealt with that one.
Waltzing back to the bed, I plop amongst the cushions and clutch one against my chest, wilfully ignoring the tingling sensation it causes in my chest. I sit against the headboard, ready to enjoy the show.
The fight between the player and the two undead guards starts off rather well. Conventionally, and—frankly—boringly, but well.
As soon as the latest challenger to my temporary residence spots the armoured headless pair, he downs the content of two phials. If I had to guess, I’d say those were a health potion and a speed-increase potion. He doesn’t seem to use magic, so mana potion would be useless and the typical strategy against more heavily armoured than oneself is to play on one’s higher mobility. A conventional move.
I am speechless. Since when can you formulate such clear cut strategy??
But it’s so booooooooooring!!!
…forget I said anything.
Moreover, against Headison’s speed, this plan is not only dull and unoriginal, but it’s also completely useless. Unlike his tall frame suggests—though not as tall as his partner—the dullahan is frighteningly fast. I experienced it first-hand during my own run of this dungeon.
I had been in a bad shape already and unable to think properly, thus I committed the mistake of focusing too much on first taking out Headison’s gargantuan partner, [Dullahan Guard of the Throne Room “Tazius”]. That mastodon had been slowly advancing in my direction, making for a pretty obvious target. Too obvious in hindsight. Before I could even get a hit in, suddenly the more slender [Dullahan Guard of the Throne Room “Headison”] turned into a blur and seemingly teleported right next to me, already slashing at my head with his black sword.
I have to admit, I only survived thanks to luck…and a jar of cookies.
Bringing back my attention to the present, I watch with complex emotions as an almost copy-paste replica of my own actions plays out before my eyes. The player gets distracted by the huge Tazius, whose steps make the walls tremble and dust trickle from the high ceiling. Instead of paying attention to those two, I keep my eyes fixed on the second dullahan, intent of catching the moment he starts running.
But it is all in vain. Even at my best, I had not been able to, and now that my stats have pummelled, there is just no way I can follow his movements.
Before I even notice him gone, Headison already appears right next to the startled player, slicing at the poor man’s neck.
I sigh. Another disappointment.
I have already written off the guy and am about to look away—when to my surprise the man’s swords start glowing white and move as it by themselves to block the undead warrior’s blade.
Artefacts! That explains why he could get this far!
“CHEATER!!” I throw my imaginary bag of popcorn at the mirror screen.
That’s the pot calling the kettle black.
I never liked that kettle! And pot is top written backwards! Obviously, I am at the top! Muahahahaha!!
Must be nice to self-justify yourself so easily.
It’s a way of life!
From the moment the man unveil his trump card, the battle takes on a much different course than what I’d have expected. Obviously, these babies are not only magical swords but holy ones too! Their mere presence weakens the pair of undead, and they seem to be equipped with auto-pilot. This is definitely cheating!! You fake! Apologise to those swordsmen and women everywhere who work hard to perfect their mastery of the sword!
*COUGH*
What?
Oh, nothing, nothing. I was just clearing my throat.
You don’t have a throat. Well, never mind.
Through perverse and petty attacks, the dirty, cheating, shameless swordsman somehow managed to trick the poor and innocent giant undead Tazius into tripping and falling upon his against-the-rules left glowy, oversized, sharpish toothpick.
I feel like a hint of bad faith.
What? Absolutely not!
Are you still sore your own holy sword broke?
This has nothing to do with Sunny!! My precious, precious Sunny…sniff.
You gave it a name?!
I do what I want!
It wasn’t even yours.
It wanted to be mine!
…How do you even know that?
It looked at me with such pleading eyes!
It’s a sword. It does not have eyes.
It had in my imagination!!
………Ah. Tazius is dead.
WHAT?!?!
My focus snaps back outwards. Indeed, the titanic undead is prone on the floor and unmoving, a glowing sword protruding from his back. Meanwhile, Headison is raining blows on the swordsman, who now has only one weapon left…wait. No. Actually, he only has one arm left.
“Mwahahahahahahaha!!! Take that, you cheater!!” I jump off the bed, grab both sides of the mirror and start shaking it—well, it doesn’t budge and I’m actually more shaking myself, but that’s beside the point! “KILL THAT BASTARD HEADISON!!”
The battle goes on for several minutes. Even with only one arm, that annoying shameful bastard is persistent! I’m sure he has other artefacts hidden on him. I bet he’s one of those paying players! There is no in-game shop in Untold Tales, but players sell items for real life money all the time. I would know. I made quite a bit of money by selling stuff I found and I didn’t want.
Eventually, though, the player stumbles. The blood-loss must be getting to him. Hehehe. Headison, great warrior that he his, even in death and even though this duel has not left him unscathed either, doesn’t miss the opportunity and soon the pest is one head shorter. Hehehehe. I’m sure Headison would have a bad pun to say about this. Shame there is no sound on that mirror.
Nick. You muted the game.
…And you’ve let me watch all those players silently without saying ANYTHING?!?!
I thought you did it on purpose.
Well…err…AH! It doesn’t matter.
On screen, the guy’s headless body crumbles to the ground in a pool of his own blood. I raise both my hands up and let out a loud cheer. “WHOOOOOOO!! Way to go Headison! HAHAHAHAHA!!” I jump up and down in joy.
*crack*
Then I land wrong and my left ankle makes a sound I really don’t like.
As the world slowly tilts to the right, I sigh wearily. “Not again…”
*BANG-CRACK*
Head trauma [–141HP]
Pain explodes around my temple then…nothing. Only darkness, and a familiar—much, much too familiar—blue box.
*tutu*
You have died.
“NO SHIT!!”
.
.
.
You are currently exempt from the twenty-four-hour ban imposed on players in the event of [Death]. You will be revived at the closest registered [Altar] for your avatar in 3... 2… 1…
.
.
.
Welcome back, Victoria.
I open my eyes and immediately jump off the bed, dismissing the window. I want to gloat at the sight of the stupid swordsman corpse.
“That’s what you get for showing off—eh?”
However, when my gaze falls on the image displayed on the mirror, my forming smile freezes.
Yes, the swordsman is dead.
But so is Headison.
He lays on his back, unmoving. His chest-plate is dented and each of his armoured limbs is crushed, shattered bones poking through cracks in the crumpled metal.
This is clearly not the work of the swordsman, given as he’s still clutching his dumb holy sword even in death, and Headison’s body is halfway through the hallway from his corpse. While there exist artefacts which activate upon their owner’s death, to take their enemy down with them, the damage on Headison doesn’t match. It looks like someone wanted to immobilise him. The only reason someone would want to do that is…
My eyes widen. I shift the image around to look for Headison’s head. It’s usually lying on the ground somewhere out of the way. The only way to kill a dullahan without a blessed weapon would be to destroy their head, which is why they can be so troublesome if their skull is well hidden.
I finally locate the head. It’s scattered in pieces next to the door to the throne room…which is cracked open.
At that moment, a world-shattering roar shakes the castle on its foundations and I have to hold onto one of the bedposts to avoid falling down.
Someone woke up the dragon.
But who?
“WHAT IS GOING ON???”
Now you know how your opponents usually feel.
Now’s not the time!
I stare dumbfounded in direction of the entrance to the room as if I had the power to send my vision all the way down the stairs and into the throne room to peek at what’s happening in the throne room.
…
……
………Wait!
I do!
Erratic, I spin back towards the mirror…and in my hurry, trip on my own foot. I see the ground approaching fast. “NONONONO!!” I try to grab onto the nearby table, but my hand only grab a book and I fail to stop my fall. Both I and the book pummel down.
*BANG-crack*
Faceplant [–131HP]
Seems like my failed attempt at stabilisation still slowed down my fall a bit.
“Hehehehe. Not today, bitch!”
You’ve been very vulgar this past hour.
“Shut up!”
I roll on my back—just in time to see another book fall off the table, straight to my face.
*crack*
Book trauma [–9HP]
*tutu*
You have died.
“NOT AGAIN?!?!?”
I am cursed.
Yes, you are.
* * * * *