Logan returned to the willow tree and went through the process of unwinding his bandage again before placing his hand back into the lodestone.
[Welcome, Idiot! Entering the Karma Lodestone Menu.]
[What would you like to buy?]
There was no reason to delay. “Go to the clothes menu.”
[…. Conditions met.]
[F GRADE CLOTHING MENU:
1 bright pink sock: 50 KarmaCoin
1 spatial storage cat collar: 300 KarmaCoin
1 knit cap: 500 KarmaCoin
1 pair of self-cleaning swim trunks: 1000 KarmaCoin
*unlock further options at higher grades]
That’s where Logan stopped, stumped. How did you purchase an item? It wasn’t like he was clicking a mouse and going to the online checkout. Logan cleared his throat. “Ah, one spatial storage cat collar please?”
[Please confirm purchase of (1 spatial storage cat collar) at a cost of 300 KarmaCoin plus a 10% processing fee.]
[Yes.]
[No.]
Logan gaped. It really was like shopping online! He supposed that commerce was the same regardless of where you were from—even aliens had fees—but still, ten percent was brutal. “Crooks,” he grumbled while concentrating on the [Yes] in front of his eyes, hovering over it mentally like he would with a touchscreen. Underneath his hand, the lodestone grew warm and bright light flashed as if it were scanning his palm. Then it grew cold, blast chiller cold.
[….Confirmed. Enjoy, Idiot.]
Logan was reminded yet again that he was dealing with something alien. Doubts began creeping into his mind. For all he knew, the lodestone was full of radiation, and he’d just gotten an x-ray. And where the hell was his purchase? Did the tree-fridge just short-change him?
Logan removed his hand from the lodestone and rewrapped the bandages. He took a step back, his foot—
Huh.
There was something on the ground in front of the trunk. Duuuuuude. Creepy. How had it gotten there? “Hello?” he said, glancing around. But he was met with the same rustling branches, the same evaporating mist. Nothing was disturbed—no footprints, no trampled grass. Logan was sure his increased perception would have picked up someone or something sneaking up behind him. No, the collar hadn’t been there a second ago, and no one had placed it there either. More magic? Teleportation?
Either way, he now had a spatial storage cat collar, whatever that was. Logan crouched down, picking it up. It was bright pink with flowers engraved onto the edges. A large name tag the size of his thumb dangled from the collar. There was a name…
Oh, come on.
Logan squinted, thinking he was seeing things, but no.
Seriously?
Seriously?!
Name: IDIOT
On the back of the tag: A large male human
It was way too big to be a normal collar; the thing would fall off a cat. If he tried to wear it as a bracelet, it would fall off his wrist. The System had just given him a cat collar for himself. That motherf---
Logan took a deep breath, trying to push down his rage. Squinting, he activated [Idiot’s Inspect].
[A spatial storage cat collar. Quality: S Grade. This is for a cat. And yet not.]
Okay, what the hell was S grade? Going by his stat sheet, if he was rated F grade, did that mean that the lower the alphabet, the worse it got? The System had just given him a garbage-rated item. Gritting his teeth and clenching the collar in his left fist, he seriously debated chucking it in the lake or smashing it with his baseball bat. It was useless. Any hope he’d had that the tree was some hidden benefit was out the window. And here he was, envisioning this thing storing items like a magic pouch. It couldn’t even store one of the nails on his bat; piece of shit—
WHAT THE FUCK.
His baseball bat was gone.
His bat was gone!
It had disappeared out of his other hand, right in front of his eyes!
Frantic, Logan scanned his surroundings, disbelieving. Had he hallucinated? Maybe the bat hadn’t been in his hand after all, maybe he’d rested it against the trunk of the willow tree, maybe maybe maybe.
Logan glanced down at the collar in his clenched fist.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
No. It couldn’t be.
No!
Peering around surreptitiously, afraid that someone would see him and assume he’d lost his mind, he opened his fist. It still looked like a normal cat collar. It didn’t look any different, but…
He cleared his throat. “Do you have my baseball bat?”
With a click, he got it. It came together in his mind like that feeling you got after understanding your first raunchy joke as a kid. Logan remembered a time when he’d went to the theatre to see a film with his friends; all the adults had laughed at a line of dialogue and Logan had sat there perplexed until with a snap, suddenly the reference made sense and the world had opened up. An understanding existed that had been absent a second ago. With a reflective thought, he wished for his baseball bat, and the bat was back in his hand.
Woah.
Logan looked from his bat to the collar, then back again. With a furrow of his brows, he wished again, and just like that, the bat disappeared in front of his eyes.
How was that possible? The collar was ribbon-thin, the name tag tiny. There was no way his baseball bat and the collar were even in the same stratosphere. It went against the laws of physics.
What else could it store?
Logan scanned his surroundings, excitement surging through him, his feet feeling light. Adrenaline replaced his frustration and disappointment. There was nothing here but tree branches and grass, but the supply closet still had his grandpa’s tools. If he could cart everything around in something the size of his thumb?
Game changer.
Logan made his way to the supply room, swinging the door open and sending the reek of musk and oil directly to his nose. He sneezed. Tools were stuffed into the shelves, equipment hanging from the walls, but he needed to be smart about this. The collar had to have a limit, so he needed to prioritize the most important items first. He took out his baseball bat from the collar with a thought first, not wanting to risk it. Regardless of whether he had a storage device, his weapon needed to be in hand 24-7.
What did he need first? The ability to catch food. Matt’s spear gun would work for now, but Logan had no idea how to use it. It would be nice to have a backup. Logan touched the fishing pole leaning against the wall, and with a command, threw it in the collar.
So freaking awesome.
Grandpa also had fishing hooks and lures—in they went—in addition to a large fishing net. So far, so good. He hadn’t felt any resistance, nothing that would indicate the collar was at capacity. Next went the carpenter tools—nails, screws, hammers. When that didn’t cause any problems, he threw in the whole toolbox.
Damn, still nothing.
Just to be safe, he took out the toolbox with a thought. It was intact and went back into the collar just as easy. Logan felt his excitement building. Next, he threw in a buzz-saw, followed by the weed wacker. The whole weed wacker!
And moving the items into the spatial collar continued to be effortless.
Was this thing bottomless?
Suspicious, Logan backed out of the room. Trying this had to be a lark, but you never knew until you tried. With a thought, Logan willed the whole supply room into the storage device.
WHAM.
Holy fucking shit!
Logan glanced from the empty space in front of him to his spatial collar, then back, blinking. The whole supply closet was gone. In its place was bare concrete and wooden supports that must not have been fully attached. Logan sat down, reeling, his mind blown away. He’d been through a lot of crap since System Integration, experienced a lot of unbelievable, impossible things—hell, even grew trees with his mind—but this was beyond anything that should be possible.
Logan looked down at the collar in his hand. He was beginning to think that ‘S Grade’ meant something else other than garbage-grade. This thing was now the most priceless item he owned. Running his thumb over the name tag and feeling the etching for IDIOT didn’t even bother him anymore. He’d take it.
Logan fastened the collar around his neck, turning it so the tag rested against his chest. Then, he got up and tugged on it to make sure it was secure. With another thought, he willed the supply room to the right, wanting to set it down on flat ground.
With a rush of air, it appeared in front of him, wood creaking, door off its hinges.
Damn. Okay, obviously storing something like a room did damage. He may have to use that ability sparingly, only transporting it one or two times. Cautious, he crept forward, but the ceiling remained intact. Everything within the room had transported at the same time, but some of the tools had fallen off the shelves. And on the floor… Huh.
Six dozen or more dead bugs littered the floor. Those hadn’t been there before. But the room was old, unmaintained. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d been living in the walls or underneath the shelves. Did that mean that living things couldn’t survive inside the storage collar? Too bad, since he’d already started to envision ways it could be used as a teleportation device.
Logan exited the room and propped the door up as best as he could before he commanded the room back into his collar with a thought, still reeling at the power around his neck.
He glanced back at the willow tree. He only had 170 KarmaCoin, but he couldn’t leave without buying another item. It was possible that the spatial collar was the only diamond in a menu of crap like he’d first suspected, but he’d kill himself if he didn’t check before leaving. What if all the items—even the dandelion—had some secret power?
Logan went back to the lodestone and opened the menu.
“Show me the clothing options.”
[…. Conditions met.]
[F GRADE CLOTHING MENU:
1 bright pink sock: 50 KarmaCoin
1 knit cap: 500 KarmaCoin
1 pair of self-cleaning swim trunks: 1000 KarmaCoin
*unlock further options at higher grades]
Just as he’d expected. Shit. Once he purchased one of the items, it disappeared from the menu. It would have been nice to buy more spatial collars, especially for Lara and Tasha. But he also suspected the menu was customized to him—why else would he receive a cat collar with a name tag that listed his own name?
“Show me the food menu.”
[…. Conditions met.]
[F GRADE FOOD MENU:
1 dandelion seed: 50 KarmaCoin
5 bean seeds: 150 KarmaCoin
5 spinach seeds: 500 KarmaCoin
5 potato spuds: 1000 KarmaCoin
*unlock further options at higher grades]
There was only one option that made sense. “I’d like to purchase five bean seeds.”
[Please confirm purchase of (5 bean seeds) at a cost of 150 KarmaCoin plus a 10% processing fee.]
[Yes.]
[No.]
Damn, he’d forgotten about the processing fee. That meant he’d only have five KarmaCoin left until he redeployed his [Life Cycle] skill. Logan mentally hovered over [Yes] and confirmed his purchase. The lodestone scanned his palm again and then grew cold as it powered down.
[….Confirmed. Enjoy, Idiot.]
Logan withdrew his hand and then turned around, looking down at the ground. In front of him was a small silk pouch tied with a string, the type you’d see in a jewelry shop. Logan crouched, opened it and peered inside.
5 bean seeds.
Deflated, he blew out a breath of air. Well, you couldn’t always have a win; the collar was still so good he wasn’t even annoyed.
Just before he left, he used [Idiot’s Inspect] on the beans to confirm he wasn’t missing anything.
[5 green bean seeds. C grade. These beans will multiply when harvested, fulfilling a self-growing, endless cycle. They will never run out, never die, and feed an army if properly harvested.]