Arsen already had his own insects to deal with; that meant Logan had effectively doubled them. Logan had tried to concentrate on the insects that had swarmed around Asthea, but it wasn’t an exact science, which meant for every insect he pulled off Asthea, he pulled off half from his own body. The poor man now had three quarters worth of all the insects in the room focused on him.
Still, deploying [Life Cycle Master] on so many insects at once wasn’t easy for Logan, and he soon felt the mental strain. It was a constant push and pull. They wondered why Asthea wasn’t tasty, and in return, Logan projected images of Arsen as a juicier prospect. But that lasted for a couple of minutes at best before they were wondering all over again.
All this effort was giving him a migraine, but it was working.
The insects were piling on top of Arsen’s shoes, gnawing away and burrowing into the juicy centre—his feet. First one, then another chomped down on his skin with their incisors, the insects worrying away at the bite and burrowing inside.
Aww man, these things didn’t want to just bite, they wanted to tunnel through Arsen’s flesh and feast from the inside! Logan got the distinct image of what they considered heaven—juicy, juicy bone marrow. His stomach sloshed, and he had to swallow acid.
It was also filling him with anger. It was the System’s fault that he had to do this; it was the System’s fault that Arsen couldn’t get out of this trial. Grinding his teeth, he tried one more time.
“I concede.”
This time, the System didn’t respond at all. Well, if he went by its original message, it wanted them to perform. That meant more dexterity. “Pick up your chopsticks, Asthea. If we earn enough points, I think the System might let us out of this.”
Her lip wobbled. “I can’t do that while Arsen’s…” She swallowed. “Ignore what he said. Turn them back to me.”
Logan looked at Arsen.
“Don’t you dare,” he hissed.
Logan could give him one thing: he had guts and a noble protector instinct. He was abrasive towards Logan and spent more time complaining of trickster cheats than he did competing, but when it came down to it, he loved Asthea and would do anything for her. That said something about his character.
“Asthea, the quicker you are, the quicker we get him out of this.”
Logan was already at work, flicking his chopsticks like a madman. The urgency of the situation made his adrenaline surge.
Arsen’s eyes were bulging as he looked down at the table. His hand trembled around his chopsticks and an insect plopped back into his bowl with a splash of milk. Jerking, he tried to push his chair back, but in addition to everyone being stuck to the chairs, the chair legs were stuck to the floor.
Hardening his heart, Logan closed his eyes and centered himself. Before the System Integration, he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of this. Sit by while someone was about to be eaten by a swarm of insects? It would have been unthinkable. Let alone the one to direct them in the first place. Although it turned his stomach to witness Arsen’s torture, better it was him than Asthea.
If it had only been him in this trial, Logan might have tried to struggle through on his own to win the True Grit Ring; now, that calculation wasn’t in play. He wanted to win enough dexterity, but only to escape. With renewed focus, Logan latched onto the next floating bug and shoved it into the table slot; not stopping at one, his hand a blur of flicking chopsticks.
Ding!
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[Trial Update:
Logan: 10 Dexterity
Asthea: 9 Dexterity
Arsen: 7 Dexterity
Errol: Disqualified
Thorin: Disqualified]
But as each additional insect dropped to the floor, it added to the swarm. Soon, they weren’t just slicing through Arsen’s boots, they were chewing through his pants and chainmail.
Arsen struggled in his chair like a madman, but he had the presence of mind to shoot a glare Logan’s way. “Keep going,” he hissed. “I can take it.”
“Oh, Arsen!” Asthea covered her mouth and averted her gaze. Logan knew she suspected what was happening, but she couldn’t see; only Logan knew the true gory details. His stomach sloshing in revulsion, he continued directing the insects.
There was one problem. Logan was running out of Karma. He couldn’t keep [Mimicry Armour] deployed at the same time as communing endlessly with the insects by using [Life Cycle Master.]
90/540.
70/540.
50/540.
30/540.
His Karma was draining at a massive rate.
Logan eyed Arsen and hesitated. The man seemed unfocused, a bubble of saliva popping from the corner of his mouth as he writhed in his chair. Logan felt bad about deploying his new skill, but he suspected that if Arsen had the presence of mind to understand, he would have agreed in a heartbeat. Anything to save Asthea pain.
Either Logan did this, or he’d run out of Karma.
But how did [Liche Siphon] work? It wasn’t a passive skill. He knew that much. It didn’t advance with his Grade, and it didn’t require Karma to deploy. The only thing he could equate it to was [Deepwater Explorer], but that required pain and asphyxiation to advance. The skills couldn’t be related. Perhaps it was like [Life Cycle Master], requiring him to open his senses.
10/540.
Shit! Everything within him rebelling, Logan made a desperate gambit and collapsed his armour. The sand rained down from his arms and hands onto the table, and then pooled at his feet. He didn’t bother throwing it inside his collar; he’d need it again shortly.
Logan pulled up his Karma:
20/540.
30/540.
40/540.
50/540.
That gave him time. But he didn’t have long before he might be in the same situation all over again. The insects were already starting to shake off his control and drift towards Asthea, a surge of interest overwhelming his senses and making his heart flutter in panic.
Fuck fuck fuck. [Liche Siphon], how the hell did he…
Logan took a deep breath. Panicking would get him nowhere. If this skill were anything like [Life Cycle Master], it would take concentration to master. He needed to be calm.
Holding his empty chopsticks over the bowl, he sucked in a huge breath, letting his chest rise, then exhaling as he tuned his senses to Arsen. The man was trying to put on a brave face for Asthea, but underneath that façade was panic and fear. Logan disregarded that and looked deeper.
He thought back to when he’d opened his Karma pool by envisioning a deep pool of water back in Martin’s Convenience. Everyone else would have that same reservoir. Depending upon the person and how much they’d advanced their pool, it could be a shallow river or a deep ocean.
Arsen’s was overflowing. Like a bucket full of water sloshing over the sides. He wouldn’t need it all; it was a waste when Logan could utilize it.
This was the tricky part.
Logan envisioned a hole on the bottom of the bucket. A small hole, a pinprick, hardly noticeable unless you were looking. Gradually, the liquid dripped out of the bucket, trickling and travelling through the air.
To Logan.
He envisioned that stream dripping, then pouring into his own Karma pool, filling up his empty reservoir like an endless faucet.
Ding!
[Liche Siphon is Level 2!]
Gasping and with his heart in his throat, Logan pulled up his Karma.
Stolen novel; please report.
100/540.
150/540.
200/540.
250/540.
He slumped to the chair in relief. His normal regeneration rate was 85 per minute, but instead, his Karma was jumping so quickly he must have received a massive boost. Of course, that was without deploying any skills that needed Karma, so he’d soon find out how effective it was in a crunch.
As for Arsen, his situation was getting progressively worse. The insects had swarmed his legs and were crawling up his upper thighs, gnawing away like flesh eating beetles. His face was swollen, bulbous with liquid, and he seemed only half aware, one blue eye staring at Logan, the other closed and puffy. But Logan was sure it was a mindless stare, nothing to do with his drain. After all, the description of [Liche Siphon] had been clear:
[This rare skill allows you to siphon away an enemy’s Karma. This skill is insidious, and the enemy will not be aware of the siphoning until Karma pool depletion is in effect.]
That meant he shouldn’t be able to tell that Logan was doing anything, and in his state, he’d pass out from the insects long before Karma depletion went into effect.
But the sight of the poor man was like torture to his own senses.
If Logan ever got out of this and became powerful enough that he could rain a smackdown onto the System, he would do it. There was a limit to what should be allowed. A limit to what was reasonable. The System had just crossed it and went to the dark side.
Logan continued keeping the insects away from Asthea and then redeployed his armour, covering his feet and legs, this time making his armour heavier than before, thicker. It wouldn’t be effective in battle since he could already tell it would be clunky and cumbersome, but it served its purpose for this trial.
“This is working,” he said to Asthea. “I can keep them away from you while earning dexterity points. My armour is protecting me so I can still concentrate. I don’t know how far we have to go though, so keep stuffing the insects through the table slots.”
Asthea wasn’t paying attention to him; her entire focus was on Arsen.
His mouth in a thin line, Logan continued snatching insects out of his cereal bowl and stuffing them through the slot in the table. As he progressed, the insects kept getting worse, these ones twice the size of the originals. They barely fit into the tunnel, and he had to brute force them through as they made buzzsaw screeches, the room’s echoing effect making it seem as if they were in the midst of a cicada’s swarm.
If he never saw another bug in his life, it would be too soon.
Ding!
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[Trial Update:
Logan: 12 Dexterity
Asthea: 10 Dexterity
Arsen: 7 Dexterity
Errol: Disqualified
Thorin: Disqualified]
“Arsen,” said Asthea, “I can’t watch this! I know what you’re trying to do, but you don’t need to save me! I’m not a little girl anymore!”
Arsen gurgled in response.
Letting out a scream of pure fury, Asthea dropped her chopsticks to the table and her face became resolute, her lips pulling back, baring her teeth. With the muscles and veins straining against her skin, she willed something out of her spatial storage.
Logan blinked.
It was a crossbow. It wasn’t massive—about the length of a small kitchen cutting board, but the edges shone, that same high-quality presence as her armour. Unlike a modern crossbow, it reminded Logan of something you’d see in a historical movie—no carbon to be found. And yet despite that, it seemed higher quality, not less.
Alarmed, Logan paused mid-chopstick. “What are you doing?”
This was the first time Logan had seen Asthea with a weapon and even though the chair arrangement restricted her movements, she knew her stuff. With a moue of concentration, she pulled back the string. It looked like the same material as Errol’s whip. Aiming, she pointed the crossbolt at Arsen. The bolt shimmered, the edges of the arrow shining with otherworldly sharpness.
By this point, Arsen didn’t even seem aware, his eyes foggy, his mouth slack with pain.
Asthea let out a guttural roar of fury as she released the bolt. It slammed into Arsen’s chest with massive force, going through his chest and lodging into the back of his chair. The force of the hit rocked the chair in place before whatever was holding it to the floor rocketed him back.
Arsen made a hissing noise as if air were deflating from his lungs, a bubble of saliva and blood popping from his mouth before his face slackened and his body became lifeless.
Asthea dropped the crossbow to the table, her bowl rattling and splashing milk. She closed her eyes for a second before looking at Logan. “I’m not a princess in what you call a fairytale, off-worlder. My ancestors go back generations. All trailblazers. We didn’t become leaders by being coddled and protected. You let those insects come.” She bared her incisors, her eyes damp, and her ears drooping. “I can take it.”
Damn. Asthea had just effectively committed a mercy kill.
“I’m not doing that. If it’s a choice between you and I, those things are coming after me.” Logan would never be able to live with himself if he sent the insects after Asthea to save himself. But yet again, he’d run into a problem. Without Arsen, Logan’s Karma source had disappeared. That meant Asthea was the only one available. He never would have tried this if there was any other option, but if he didn’t, he’d run out of Karma, and then the insects would swarm her, and she’d be in a worse position than Arsen.
“Asthea, if you start to feel light-headed, let me know.”
She shot him a confused look.
Logan had already extended his senses to look for a way forward. He needed to latch onto Asthea’s Karma pool reservoir and drain it like funnelling it with a straw. The first breakthrough with Arsen had been the hardest, and now, Asthea seemed easy in comparison. It was a simple matter of narrowing in on her Karma pool, as easy as breathing.
200/540.
225/540.
250/540.
275/540.
Asthea was lower leveled than Arsen which meant she must have a smaller Karma pool. Logan’s Karma was replenishing at a much lower rate. Still, it was enough.
With a frown of resolve, Logan removed two sand buckets from his spatial collar and then reformed his armour suit. He spread the armour from his hips to his chest, making it thick, so thick it was like a plaster cast. Then scrunching his eyebrows in concentration, he sculpted regular exoskeleton around his arms and hands to maintain movement and flexibility. Lastly, he sculpted the armour over his head and completed it with his face mask.
But as soon as he did, he wished he hadn’t. His facemask gave him a perception boost and that meant he could see every little insect eye as it rotated and stared at Logan.
Next, Logan deployed [Life Cycle Master] again, searching for the insect minds—too numerous to count. His nose dripping blood, Logan sent, here, come here.
The insects were already scurrying off Arsen; the meat was cold and unappetizing, and they were looking for brighter, juicier prospects. The problem was that those brighter prospects included Asthea.
No, over here. Juicy, juicy meat. Logan sent an image of himself; his limbs covered in armour which held hidden cream, the best meal of their lives.
The insects that were on their way towards Asthea paused and then jumped up and down in excitement. Meat-sack, meat-sack, get to the juicy centre.
His nerves on fire, Logan took a slight step back from their minds and let them scurry over him in a swarm. He could feel each leg as they danced over him, and underneath his armour the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
But there was only one way out of this.
More dexterity.
His fingers twitching in readiness, adrenaline surging, Logan became a chopstick master.
Snatching bugs out of the bowl, stuffing them into the tunnel and slot so forcefully that he smashed the legs to pulp, the things making buzzsaw noises as they landed on the floor.
Ding!
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[…]
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[Trial Update:
Logan: 15 Dexterity
Asthea: 10 Dexterity
Arsen: 7 Dexterity
Errol: Disqualified
Thorin: Disqualified]
Doing three things at once was no mean feat—from maintaining his grip on the insects through the use of [Life Cycle Master] to replenishing his Karma through [Liche Siphon] to the physical act of making sure the insects didn’t scurry away from his sticks.
Ugh.
Moving his hand, he latched onto the latest bug, his chopsticks a blur as he forced it into the tunnel, through the ninety-degree angle, and out the slot. As he grabbed the next, Logan felt the swarm became delirious with activity. They crawled up his boots and legs, tiny claws digging into his armour and trying to burrow through. Soon, there were hundreds of the things swarming with their buzzsaw shrieks.
Meat-sack, meat-sack. Get to the juicy center, was their entire thought.
Ugh ugh ugh.
Ding!
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[…]
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[Trial Update:
Logan: 20 Dexterity
Asthea: 10 Dexterity
Arsen: 7 Dexterity
Errol: Disqualified
Thorin: Disqualified]
Now, the insects had travelled up his chest, scurrying over him like spiders looking for a softer spot. Normally, he would have no concern that his armour wouldn’t hold up to regular insects, but the System had enhanced these things. Each time he replenished his bowl, they grew stronger, their claws and pincers so sharp they cut like a knife through butter.
And they could sense that his armour was weaker around his arms.
Ding!
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[…]
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[Trial Update:
Logan: 25 Dexterity
Asthea: 10 Dexterity
Arsen: 7 Dexterity
Errol: Disqualified
Thorin: Disqualified]
Burrowing through with their sharp incisors, they chomped through the sandstone like mutant termites, chewing through and then spitting out sand in great mouthfuls. Logan felt the first one breach and take a bite out of his upper arm, followed by another and another. They dug through his flesh, taking out chunks, their minds alight with savage pleasure.
Meat-sack, meat-sack. Juicy meat-sack.
Logan switched his chopsticks. They were less effective in his non-dominant hand, but all he had to do was snatch them by their legs and then force them through the tunnel with his massive strength.
And in the meantime, the insects were busy, busy bees.
He screamed in defiance, his chopsticks a blur, every ounce of his willpower on disregarding the pain, ignoring the grossness factor, and persevering.
Ding!
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[…]
[You have earned one dexterity point!]
[Trial Update:
Logan: 35 Dexterity
Asthea: 11 Dexterity
Arsen: 7 Dexterity
Errol: Disqualified
Thorin: Disqualified]
“Logan!” said Asthea, her voice filled with urgency. “That might be enough! Try to concede!”
For the first time, Asthea had used his real name.
Mumbling to herself, she said, “You let me out, you soncontal.” She tilted her head up and peered at the ceiling. “I concede!”
Logan had almost forgotten about Asthea through his mindless repetitive movements. Blood pouring out of his nose like a garden hose, his body nothing but a patchwork of pain and revulsion, Logan silently pleaded, please work.
“I concede.”