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Chapter 7: Rabid Rabbit Rumble
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"For centuries, for millennia, you've done nothing but watch, passive and useless, decaying, like a crumbling statue. Aide us, ancestor, in our time of need, or condemn your offspring to annihilation" ~ From: "Histories of The Fall" by Horace Taemon Kai.
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Flying through the air, the beast’s outstretched forelegs reached for Logan’s face.
It was a rabbit-looking creature, but the proportions were all wrong: the animal was the size of a medium dog—a husky, or a retriever. Its legs were too long, spindly things bound with sinewy muscle that thinned down below the knee before ending in small feet with razor sharp claws several inches long.
Its head was large and angular, tall ears protruding from the top behind small, glistening beady red eyes that bore holes into him with rabid hunger. Its mouth was open, two pairs of long white teeth glistened, promising to tear his flesh.
Logan was still catching his breath when the beast attacked. He hurriedly raised his sword in front of his face for protection as he scrambled to his feet, but he was too slow. The rabbit soared towards him faster than the sword could defend. Its claws scored the flesh of his forearm, cutting out long gouges as they slid across his skin.
The pain was hot fire, valleys of torn flesh screaming and burning. Blood filled the gashes and began streaming from the wound, dripping down his elbow and into the dirt. The pain made him drop his sword, and he flung his mangled arm sideways, casting the creature off.
He bent to grab the fallen sword with his left hand, panicking as the rabbit regained its footing, faced him, and began loping forwards with ferocious speed. Blood, his blood, matted its white fur, staining it with a sinister pattern that matched the beast's bright red eyes.
This time, he was ready for the attack. Calling on every ounce of mental fortitude he had, Logan ignored the pain in his arm and held the sword in front of him, keeping it low. Bending his knees slightly, he clenched his jaw shut as the rabbit leapt again, ugly teeth snapping at him.
He anticipated the jump and dodged out of its path. Pivoting so the beast flew past him, he whipped the sword upwards with as much force as he could muster. His dodge hadn’t succeeded entirely, but as the rabbit’s outstretched claw clipped his right shoulder, the sword connected from below, slicing into the soft, unprotected skin of its underbelly.
He staggered backwards, spinning from the speed and weight of the rabbit striking him. This time, however, he’d made sure to keep hold of the blade.
When its forelegs hit the dirt, they gave out, and the rabbit skidded on its face to a halt. It was still alive. With its entrails pouring out into a wet, bloody mess where it lay, the creature hissed at him ferociously as it tried in futility to get up.
He stalked towards the creature with slow, measured steps, cautious of a sudden attack. When he was just a few feet away he broke into a dash, veering to its side, trying to get an angle on the fallen beast’s head. The rabbit managed a last bout of strength and stood, rising to its hindlegs and snarling at him.
He ducked a wild swipe, loaded his weight onto his right leg, and lunged up at the rabbit, sword outstretched. The point penetrated the rabbit’s throat, passed through its neck, and protruded out the other side.
They fell, man and beast, backwards onto the ground. Logan had fallen on top of the rabbit after losing his grip on the sword. He lay atop the animal, clothes covered in its blood, trembling. He rolled off of it, sword forgotten as he lay on the dirt and nursed his injuries. His right arm was a disaster; the shoulder was ruined, and from his elbow to the wrist red channels ran like riverbeds. The pain was the worst he’d ever felt in his life, and he breathed sharply through his teeth as he removed a bandage from his inventory and hastily began wrapping his arm.
How had this happened? Weren’t rabbits supposed to be starter mobs?
This thing had only used one type of attack but had almost killed him. He'd beaten it though and managed to survive, barely. He looked at his arm which throbbed in agony.
"Are you okay? That looks like it hurts! To think you humans kept these things as pets on Earth, crazy!" Mikey said, his concerned tone lasting for only a few words before it regained its normal, chipper tenor.
“I’m fine,” he replied through gritted teeth then added, “I think. And that wasn't a normal rabbit. Do you really think we'd keep these things in our houses?"
He got a sudden mental image of Mikey shrugging, hands raised and a dumb grin on his face that seemed to say he wouldn't doubt it of humans.
Logan touched the blood on his shirt.
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Rabid Rabbit, Level 1, Dead. Loot?
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Level one?
He had been sure the beast must’ve been something far higher, it’d moved faster than any animal he'd ever seen on Earth.
I guess this really is a starting area, he thought as he affirmed the prompt to loot the corpse.
His arm ached, and he wondered if Woolam had a doctor.
"I’m sorry Logan, you weren’t supposed to suffer any more, I had one job, and I failed. I failed you," Mikey said, real sadness in his voice.
This was the first time Logan had seen, or felt, Mikey genuinely troubled. He wanted desperately to loot the rabbit and get back to the village as fast as possible, but he felt it was worth the extra time to console his friend.
“Mikey, for my entire life I felt lost and alone. Nothing, no matter what I tried, actually felt meaningful. I felt trapped in a world where I didn't belong and spent all of my leisure time trying to pretend I was somewhere else,” he gestured around with his good arm.
“Somewhere like this. Yeah, this hurts like a bitch and I want lie down and cry, but this is the first time in my life that I’ve actually felt alive; that I’ve actually wanted to see tomorrow. I can put literally anything into, what? A magic space that doesn’t actually exist anywhere? I’m a superhero! I have magic, kind of. And I suspect I’ll be able to do a lot more than this eventually,” he forced a smile through the pain that still racked his body.
“Well, you can’t put anything in, technically speaking,” Susie said quietly, as if to herself.
"Give me a moment Susie, I'm monologuing," he said without skipping a beat.
“You gave this to me, even if it was just because of that thing that attacked you,” he said as he recalled Mikey’s description of the monster that’d supposedly attacked them in the pocket dimension.
He couldn't remember it and thinking about the event for too long brought on an unbearable headache.
“Thank you, Mikey,” he finished.
"I… you’re welcome," Mikey grimaced.
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He’d lied to Logan before, about the tentacles that’d attacked when they’d first met. He had realized that Logan had lost most of his memories of the event, recalling only the beanbags and Cheetos.
This had relieved him greatly, as his duty was to protect Logan’s soul and ease its suffering, but the fact that he’d lied to him about something so unprecedented bothered him. Due to the pain of his headaches, Mikey had decided to leave the topic alone and try to deal with it by himself.
It was after Logan, not me, but why?
Susie perked up upon mention of Logan's arm.
“I can help with that,” she chimed in, this time louder.
“I added the Rabid Rabbit’s loot to your inventory but didn’t want to interrupt your conversation,” she said.
An item appeared in Logan’s good hand. It was a glass vial, cylindrical and maybe an inch in diameter. It was no more than 5 inches long and had a cork stopper at its mouth.
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Lesser Potion of Healing (Common)
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The text box floated next to the vial as he inspected its contents. Red, translucent liquid that reminded him of Kool-Aid filled the container. He’d done a surprisingly good job of fighting it off, but the throbbing, burning pain in his arm wouldn’t be ignored. Without bothering to read the description, he unstopped the potion with his teeth, spit out the cork, and downed its contents in one gulp.
The liquid tasted sweet like sugary water, and its effect was immediate. As soon as he tasted it, the pain started to recede. It didn’t disappear, but what was once fire searing his skin was now a manageably uncomfortable stinging sensation.
This was the power of a common, lesser potion?
He looked at his arm: the bleeding had stopped, and he watched as scabs formed before his eyes, closing the gashes on his forearm. Where the skin healed, his arm tingled as if it’d fallen asleep. The process looked natural, like what his body would have done on its own, but dramatically accelerated by the concoction’s effects.
He was relieved at its effectiveness, but his shoulder still worried him. He couldn’t raise his arm more than a few inches before stabbing pain shot through it like a nail being hammered into flesh. At least he could move it now; he hadn’t been able to before and had begun to fear that he never would again. It was clearly dislocated and bore deep lacerations on its front, next to his collarbone.
The bone seemed twisted inwards, displaced in the socket. Looking at it made him want to puke. Quickly turning away, he opened his menu and tabbed to Active Effects.
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Lesser Potion of Healing
Healing over time. Slowly repairs damage received within the last hour. Effect lasts twenty-four hours. Effect is halted if user receives further damage.
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Did that mean it would heal his shoulder? He wasn’t sure. His field medic skill had bestowed the knowledge of putting his shoulder back into its socket, he realized, but he didn’t know if that would interfere with the potion’s effects. He decided to deal with the pain for now, and if it wasn’t fixed by the time the potion’s duration was over, he'd address it then.
He looked down at the fallen creature with admiration tinged by fear. This level one rabbit, he was sure it was one of the weakest monsters he’d ever encounter, had almost ended his life within his first two days of being reincarnated. He needed to become stronger.
He grasped the hilt of his sword, still plunged in the beast’s neck, and pulled it free. It slid out easily, the bloody blade glinting in the bright sunlight. He ran the sword along his shirt, not caring that it made the garment even more disgusting—It was already irredeemably repulsive—and returned the weapon to his inventory.
The rabbit’s corpse, its fur was more red than white now, flashed brilliantly, then disappeared.
He noticed a small, circular orange light blinking slowly in the lower left corner of his vision with a number “3” glowing inside. He acknowledged it, mentally clicking on the notification.
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New items have been added to your inventory.
You have gained new skills.
Your stats have increased.
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Susie sounded excited about the notifications. He was excited to, despite the circumstances; everything he’d said to Mikey had been true. His first kill. The thought filled him with satisfaction.
It felt odd to him, feeling proud about taking a life, but the rabbits were one of the many monsters infesting the woods that Huck had told him about, and they along with the other creatures, attacked farmers and travelers, severely limiting the growth of Woolam and the safety of its inhabitants.
They killed the non-magical wildlife, dominating the hierarchy of the forest and spreading rampantly like unchecked pests. They were unintelligent and nothing but harmful, and he’d risked his life fighting. He was proud, he decided, but humbled too.
He vowed, if nothing else, to never underestimate an opponent. He clicked on the “new items” notification which brought him to his inventory.
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New items have been added to your inventory
Rabid Rabbit Haunch x6
Rabid Rabbit Foot x1
White Rabid Rabbit Pelt x1
Rabid Rabbit Skull x1
Silver Coin x1
Lesser Rabid Rabbit Token x1
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Six haunches? The rabbit only had four legs… interesting.
He smirked at the loot; was it randomly generated? Susie didn’t know. He’d have to loot more monsters to find out, he concluded.
“This one only gave one silver coin, that’s nothing compared to the steam fish from yesterday,” he said.
"The steam fish was HUGE! If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have given you anything for it! All you did was almost die, like, twice!"
“I shouldn’t have said anything; you know Mikey, this is why I don’t talk to you,” he said, sighing in mock exasperation.
An image of Mikey with a hurt expression on his boyish face appeared in his mind, as clear as if he’d been right in front of Logan.
"Rude! I was going to tell you what Susie’s been saying about you behind your back, but now I think I’ll keep it to myself," he said, the image changing to one of him sticking his tongue out, tilting his head and pulling on his ear.
Where does he pick up these facial expressions, he wondered.
“The Company” must have had an interesting idea of what was worth teaching about humanity if Mikey is any indication.
“Don’t listen to the cretin, Master Logan. He’s clearly just upset that he’s nothing more than a useless freeloader riding your coattails to survive,” Susie said.
“Wow, harsh,” Logan replied with a whistle.
He opened his status.
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Stats
Physical
???
Spirit
Speed: 1
Strength: 1
Stamina: 2
Resilience: 2
Dexterity: 2
?:___
?:___
Focus: 2
Innovation: 2
Control: 0
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His stamina, resilience, dexterity, and innovation had all gained a level. Now that he focused on the stats, he could vaguely feel the changes in his body. They were slight, barely noticeable, but they were there.
He felt tougher, like his joints and bones were a little less prone to breaking, and that he could deal with pain just a bit better. He had thought the sword had felt better in his hand when he’d removed it from the corpse, but he wasn’t sure at the time if it’d been his imagination.
Now he was certain it hadn’t been. Interesting, he thought; the stat progression made a sort of sense to him now that it hadn’t before. He'd gained a skill, too.
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World Skill: Swordsmanship, level 1
The most basic proficiency with swords, you pretty much suck, but at least you can tell that you suck.
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Snarky! Had Susie added the last bit for her amusement? No, it was in the skill’s description when I read it myself. Did she write the description, then?
She hadn’t been able to elaborate on anything the status page described, so he guessed not. He scoffed at the menu.
“Okay then, screw you too,” he said, shaking his head with an incredulous smile.
Besides the pass at him at the end, it was a simple description, and he intuitively knew that he’d get a better explanation once his Menu and Analyze skills leveled up.
Not a bad haul for my first monster, he thought.
The items weren’t all that impressive, at least until he figured out how much he could sell them for, but he was thrilled by the acquisition of a new skill and his stat upgrades.
He now had a clear path forward. His aching shoulder was not enough to dispel the smile that crept to his lips and remained there as he made his way carefully back to the village. He’d been gone for several hours, and as he walked out of the forest and through the pastures and farmland, he daydreamed about the stew that he hoped awaited him upon his return.
His feet hurt like hell.
I need better boots.