[You have been granted the Skill, Idiot’s Inspect! This uncommon skill is granted to idiots who stare at insects expecting something interesting to happen. Well done, human! You’re unique in the world. This skill is hard-capped to your Grade level.]
Okay, what the hell? Thanks a lot, you sarcastic fucker. Logan almost accidentally stomped on the ant in his anger. He was starting to feel offended. No, he was offended. This System didn’t seem very politically correct. It may even be racist. He still hadn’t forgotten about its comment that humans were ‘lesser species.’ And what if the System started calling people with developmental disabilities names? He’d hated it before for being a murderous sarcastic fucker, but now he disliked it just on principle.
As for the earned [Idiot’s Inspect] skill, it wasn’t the perception attribute point he was aiming for, but he’d take it. Whatever it was. Out of curiosity, he glanced at the ant, expecting something to happen.
Furrowing his brow in puzzlement, he was about to look away, when he got the sense that if he willed the information, it would populate. Bizarre. He didn’t know why—
[Okanagan Carpenter Ant: Level 0]
Holy crap, it worked!
The text went away the next time he blinked, and it seemed limited in information, but it was as if he were wearing VR glasses in a video game. Excited, Logan jogged past the ant until he found a fallen pinecone, giving it an examining stare. And stared.
Was he doing it wrong?
Huh. Maybe it had to be an animal? Logan scanned for another insect, keeping a wary eye on the long dry grass. He still hadn’t forgotten how the last snake had snuck up on him. Finally, a cricket jumped and landed on top of a leaf, grooming its legs. Logan eyed it.
[Hump-Wing Cricket: Level 0]
Success! Logan could make a killing as a naturalist. But beyond the nature study, the skill could be useful. The next time he encountered a mutated animal, if he saw its level, he might be able to prepare himself before he fought. After all, there had to be a big difference between a Level 2 and Level 10 monster.
Endurance and agility, check them off the box. Perception was a no go. But there was one more attribute that he was convinced he could advance today; it was just a matter of whether he wanted to subject himself to pain.
Endurance and agility had only advanced after a certain amount of effort. For strength, it wouldn’t be as simple as lifting the occasional rock. No, he’d have to strain his muscles, likely to a dangerous point.
Glutton for punishment, here we come!
Logan travelled the remaining distance to his cabin, keeping a wary eye on his surroundings. The weeping willow in front of the cabin seemed to gleam in the sun, mist saturating the air. He bypassed the rotting snake corpse and peered into the door of the open utility shed.
The coast was clear.
Nothing but tools.
More importantly, the avenue for torture was at hand. Logan grabbed an extra-large metal pail by its wooden handle. Next, he took a length of rope about the same length as the door and tied it to the pail handle. At the other end of the rope, he knotted a small loop, big enough to fit his hand. He debated leaving the baseball bat in the shed while he went outside, but although the System was convinced of it, Logan wasn’t quite that level of [Idiot].
But he was an idiot who was going to increase his strength attribute by the wackiest way possible. Grinning, Logan made his way over to the dock, walking mid-way over the worn wooden slats until he could easily look down at the water. The temperate had dropped as it got closer to the evening, so at least he wouldn’t be dealing with heat stroke on top of muscle strain.
The rope was the smooth, nylon kind, so hopefully he’d avoid too many calluses, but that depended upon how long the System required him to struggle before it granted him that precious attribute point. Logan lowered the pail into the lake, filling it with water.
All told, it must have been about 5 gallons, which wasn’t an impossible weight, but when you had to lift it out of the lake, pulling on a length of rope high enough to reach the dock? Yeah, no picnic.
The first time was fine. The second was okay, just a slight awkward feeling.
The third time strained, and after that, it was all downhill.
Five times.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Logan’s arms trembled, his muscles on fire, the pain going all the way from his fingers, up his wrist to his shoulder.
Twenty.
Oh, come on, System!
And as if to taunt him with its creepy mind-reading powers:
Ding!
[You have earned one Strength point! Strength daily limit capped for the next 24 hours.]
The tingling sensation returned; this time concentrated in his arms. Just as quickly, a rush of heat replaced it as if he’d put both arms in a sauna. When he glanced down, his biceps were slightly bigger. Huh. Logan lifted the pail onto the dock and then collapsed to his back, examining his arms as he caught his breath. He was hoping for a continuation of a sculpted stomach (purely for vanity purposes), but it was as if the System was directing the strength bonus at the muscles he’d used to earn it in the first place.
Although the increase had reduced the muscle strain, it hadn’t fixed his exhaustion. Clearly, his endurance still needed a boost. Oh my f’ing God, let’s not do that again.
At least until tomorrow.
After recovering, Logan lurched to his feet, balancing the baseball bat along one shoulder as he pulled up his stat screen, eager to review his improvements:
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Name: Logan Hart [Hidden Name: Idiot]
Rank: 3,432,311,629 out of 7,475,473,883
Level: 3
Class: None
Grade: F0
Species: Human
Skills:
* Deepwater Idiot Lv.1
* Idiot’s Paradox Lv. 2
* Idiot’s Inspect Lv. 1
Titles: Eager Beaver
XP Progress: 456/6000
Intelligence: 6
Constitution: 15
Strength: 12 + 1 = 13
Agility: 8 + 1 = 9
Dexterity: 5
Endurance: 6 + 1 = 7
Perception: 5
Wisdom: 4
Luck: 10
Free Attribute Points: 0
KarmaCoin: 0
His strength attribute had increased to what he thought was a respectable 13. If he continued these cheat exercises every day, he had a reliable way to increase his strength, agility, and endurance attributes by 7 points every week.
Of his remaining physical attributes, that left only dexterity, constitution, and perception. But the next time he leveled up, he’d throw the extra attribute points into those stats. That would even them up as long as he didn’t let too many days pass without a level increase.
Then there was what he classified as oddball attributes: intelligence, wisdom, and luck. Other than the System taunting him by labelling him an [Idiot], those stats seemed arbitrary and a weird thing to measure. Until he knew what each did and how they affected him, he’d skip them for now and focus on the others.
Logan was about to minimize his stats, until he paused, puzzled. His ranking had gone up. He’d expected that, but just how far above him had others started for him to still be ranked only 3.4 billion? That wasn’t thousands or millions, billions were either higher leveled than him or had higher attributes. Logan had assumed that he’d figured out a unique cheat, but maybe everyone else had too.
Was there something on this stat sheet that he wasn’t seeing, some instructions sheet, or tutorial?
“System, bring up the Settings Mainframe.”
[Entering the Settings Mainframe.]
Logan examined the options listed, but it was the same information he’d already read. He looked up and to the side, hoping for a glowing, hidden text box, with no success. “Sarcastic fucker, do you have a table of contents or an instructions menu?”
Maybe it didn’t like to be addressed that way. “System,” he said politely. “Display the help menu.”
[….Although you need all the help you can get, Idiot, that option doesn’t exist.]
Creepy-ass mother--! Logan clenched his fists and dismissed the Settings Mainframe. Okay, so no help from the creeper. It was up to Logan to figure this out.
For the first time, he looked beyond his attributes. What the hell was a ‘KarmaCoin’? Was that like Bitcoin?
Attempting to highlight and expand it like his skills didn’t work. Using that genius level of deduction that he had (yes, System, I’m talking to you), he could partly deconstruct it. Coin implied it was a type of currency, and if karma was referring to the human definition, it had to be something awarded after completing a deed or action. Would the System award you with money if you paid a good deed forward or helped someone out? Somehow, he didn’t think it was that simple.
Logan dismissed his stat sheet and ran his thumb over the handle of the wooden bat. It still needed MacGyvering, and the sun was wasting. He didn’t want to be outside when it got dark. After returning to the utility shed and weighing his options, he went with three-inch regular old nails which he figured had less chance of splitting the wood. Getting to work, he used his grandpa’s old trusted (as in, rusted) hammer, spreading the nails out so they weren’t grouped together. At odd sections, a sturdier screw between the nail sections added lethal variety.
Logan kept a careful eye on the bat, making sure he wasn’t splitting any wood. This thing would be worthless if he managed to shatter it on first contact.
Logan hammered in the last nail, giving the bat a considering eye. All told, he’d used about thirty nails and ten screws. This thing was badass. Now, it was just a matter of whether the nails would stay if he hit anything or if there was anything else he could do to…
Huh. He knew his grandpa had been a packrat, but that habit was turning into a godsend. There was a tub of extra strength, instant drying glue in one of the metal toolboxes, and… holy shit, jackpot. Grandpa had kept a length of barbed wire.
Wrapping the barbed wire around the bat between the nails gave it stability, and a dab of glue where each nail entered the wood made it extra strong.
He kind of wanted to paint it red to give it that added level of menace, but he was on a schedule.
Logan closed the door of the shed and then took a few test swings with his new weapon, the air singing with each strike. He’d made something out of a comic book. Shit, no, he’d just made a more lethal version of the bat from The Walking Dead.
Logan began the walk back to Eleanor’s, the bat balanced over one shoulder. All told, the trip hadn’t been half bad. He’d figured out a way to cheat the system and gained a new weapon. Tomorrow, if they managed to return with a supply of food, they wouldn’t be in a—
The rotting snake corpse had just moved.
Logan came to a stop, clenching his fingers around the bat handle. It couldn’t be alive—hell, the System had announced its death. Was it a trick of his eyes? Taking a step, he inched forward, wary eyes on the corpse.
The remains made it seem bigger than when it was alive, flesh bloated and swollen with decomposition. The gory bloody bits had turned from red to dark purple, covering the sand with sludge. Flies buzzed around it, maggots crawling over the shredded stomach. The stomach was still open, the blood around the cat’s tail dried into a crust. Maybe it was decomposing gas? He’d heard that corpses did strange things as they….
No, the sides had definitely just moved.
What the hell?
Logan watched in disbelief as something pressed against the skin from the inside like some mash up of the movie Alien. Small furry fingers with black talons curled around the edges of the sliced stomach. The hand pried it open like a rib-spreader, a face covered in a grey pelt wiggling loose, followed by a furry body and a fluffy tail drenched in bloody guts. That looked like the snake’s liver clutched in its other hand—or, rather, paw.
[Rabid Grey Squirrel: Level 3]
A squirrel. Despite knowing this thing had evolved into a leveled being, Logan couldn’t help letting out a relieved laugh.
At the sound, the squirrel squeaked, fluffy grey tail rising straight up to a point. Black, beady eyes narrowed on him, nose twitching as its paw spasmed around the gleaming liver. Something about it gave him pause. Logan had seen many squirrels around the property, but this one, despite being only slighter larger in size than a normal squirrel, gave him an ominous feeling—like a monster under the bed that looked cute and fluffy on the outside, but was just waiting for you to fall asleep so it could gnaw on your toes.
As if to mirror his thoughts, the squirrel opened its mouth, hissing, revealing serrated teeth like something you’d see inside of a shark’s jaws. It had layers of teeth like a saw, and an orange, pointy tongue. What the hell?
Logan raised the bat as if he were going up to the plate, trying to look threatening. The squirrel was only level 3, and Logan had interrupted its meal. He might be able to inch away without….
The fluffy monstrosity took a flying leap at him, squeak, squeak, squeaking, as it flew through the air… right into his swing.
Man, that thing could fly.
Logan hit the squirrel all the way back to the weeping willow tree. Its furry body smacked into the trunk with a crack. But unlike a regular baseball swing, his nail bat had done some damage.
The squirrel shook itself, whimpering and shuddering as it trembled, several spots on its fur leaking blood. It panted before getting up and—filled with resolve—jackknifed its tail straight up, beady eyes glaring before it skittered up the trunk and into a branch.
Good for you, little guy.
Just like that, Logan made a decision. He could go after it, but he felt like doing so would give into the System. Obviously, it was encouraging and even gamifying killing. If everyone went along with it, wouldn’t humanity be admitting defeat and throwing in the towel? Just because it would award him for ending the life of that crazy squirrel, didn’t mean he had to. He wasn’t a mindless killing machine. Logan had agency and so did the squirrel. If it wanted to swim in snake guts and randomly hiss and attack people, good on it. It’s not like it was any threat to him.
Right?