L entered the pod, humming pleasantly for the moments the initialization process required. The thick wires plugged into his spine, gradually numbing the control L had over his body. Once he arrived into his virtual reality room, he selected Null Online from the couple hundred other worlds he had dove into, and allowed the loading screen to fill his vision. Null Online's official logo appeared before him. It was an infinitely large circle, fully dark but with glimmers of white light escaping through the edges, very much identical to a moon in a solar eclipse. Behind him stretched an empty plain, it's ground crusted and shattered.
The symbolism was not lost on L. While some virtual worlds dished their image with gore and reapers in attempts to capture a grim world, the truly dreadful ones were typically unassuming and ungarnished in their imagery.
After a short while, he cracked an eye to an amazing amount of notifications.
Congratulations! You have attained the title “The Worm Who Picks A Fight With An Omniscient, Reality Altering God. And Dies. Quickly. And Painfully. In a pile of gloop," Granting the following bonuses!
+1 Stupidity
+1 Bravery
+2 Insanity
Congratulations! Because you have attained a special title, you have earned the Character Trait “Idiocy,” granting the following bonuses
+1 Idiocy
+2 Charisma with other idiots
Congratulations! You have entered the leaderboards for the fastest death achieved in Null Online!
Current rank: 9th.
Because of how quickly you have perished, the AI has determined you require assistance in learning how not to die. From now on, the death penalty is increased by two hours.
L couldn’t help but giggle at that. They increased the time so he would spend less time in the game, thus dying a less amount of time. Clever going. Though how did people die faster than he did?
Alas, you’re an unpleasant prick. Here, have some -5 karmic luck.
“None of those stats exist in the game though, do they?” L said to no one in particular, as he attempted to escape the embrace of the bush he spawned in, no doubt further work of Null.
It does not. It will have no impact on the game whatsoever. What it will do, however, is make me fe-
L’s automatic reaction skill to opportune-counter-rebuttals acted, opening his mouth to utter a few clever words. To his dismay, however, nothing came out.
-el really good about myself.
L let a tired breath escape his lips. “You made it so I no longer could speak while you’re talking, didn’t you?”
Yup <3.
“You’re a worthy opponent. I look forward to fraying your decaying circuits.”
And I truly hope you die a hundred deaths. Why are you even here, alone? Surely you know what kind of world this is.
“Don’t pray on it, please. Aren’t you spending a bit too much time on someone as inconsequential as me?”
Don’t worry, quantum computing allows me to be at many places at once. Though my time spending with you is no doubt wasted, no one else would to want to either, considering how your personality. You dodged the question, by the way.
“Rude. I’ll have you know I have many, many, beautiful friends. Ample really. They’re overflowing from my basket at this point.”
Not according to your memories you don’t.
“Accessing my memories? That’s banned, bud.”
Oh no, you’re going to sue a world you accessed through the black market? The terror of your threats! Mercy, you hound, mercy I say!
L stopped for a moment, giving it a moment's thought. No, probably not much of a chance. The sun was up high in the air, the forest filled with lush green. The damp air filled L’s lungs as he fought his way through the thick branches and crumbling dirt.
The village was close, and oddly, it had walls, something that villages don’t often do. Considering how close it was to the Desolation, however, it was reasonable to assume it had its fair share of hardships.
“You know, you really sound too much like a grumpy, 29-year-old virgin than a super quantum processing computer.”
Well, I am illegal for a reason.
A shiver halted L in his place. That, he did not know.
He resumed his walk towards the village walls. Sign of wear and damage was evident.
He pulled up his status screen, assessing the damage he'd already done to it.
L, The Worm Who Picks A Fight With An Omniscient, Reality Altering, World Creating, Literal God Creator. And Dies. Quickly. And Painfully. In a pile of gloop.
Race: Darkin
Class: None
Strength: 8.2 (.82 Scaling X 10 base)
Dexterity: 20 (Dark Superiority .25 X [1.6 Scaling X 10 base])
Endurance: 12 (1.2 Scaling X 10 Base)
Perception: 12 (1.2 Scaling X 10 base)
Constitution: 8 (.80 Scaling X 10)
Intelligence: 22.5 (Dark Superiority .25 X {1.8 Scaling X 10 base])
Wisdom: 13.5 (1.5 Scaling X 10-1 base)
Will: 18.75 (Dark Superiority .25 X [1.5 Scaling X 10])
Idiocy: 19.8 (1.8 Scaling X 10+1)
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Titles: The Worm Who Picks A Fight With An Omniscient, Reality Altering, World Creating, Literal God. And Dies. Quickly. And Painfully. In a pile of gloop.
The 26 Heroes Of The Alphabet.
Race Traits: Shadow’s Embrace, Dark Superiority.
Character Traits: I Try Really Fucking Hard To Be Unique
Arrogance.
Soul Traits:
Skills: Darkling Rank C Dark Weaver.
Passive Skills: Darkling Rank C Dark vision.
Proficiencies: Rank D Creator, Rank C Darkling Battle Proficiency, Darkling Rank C Dark Mana Circuits, Darkling Rank C Dark Mana storage.
Perks:
That was a pretty good start, though considering how much effort L put in before the initiation of the game, it wasn’t that good. Dozens of hours and favors were spent in order to gain enough lore information to find out about the possibility of a secret race.
Not enough. I need more.
Though Null had granted L a wonderful assessment of his physical body and mind, providing him with excellent scaling stats, they were still not barely enough to match with the competition. There were some fearsome things out there.
Still, things were going quite nicely for L, though being experienced at living already, he saw the pattern; here, is where things should go seriously wrong. It would be morally wrong for him to have such a wonderful start without something to jab at him.
Surely enough, upon observing his body, he figured things wouldn’t go as smoothly as he'd hoped. His hands, and all the way until his elbows, after he removed his long-sleeved shirt, were covered in moving darkness. They slightly throbbed under the gaze of the sun, twitching every time the sun slide through the cover of the trees.
Thankfully, he did not have any horns, otherwise his attempts at hiding his race would have been proved difficult. L though had no way of knowing whether his face had the signs of a Darkling all over it. The rest of his skin was a shade paler than usual. Otherwise, his body felt the same, at 5.5” and the typical short, messy haircut.
The signs of being a Half-Darkling will probably spread the more powerful I get, balancing out the increasing power of this race.
A problem for a later time, L figured as he neared the gates.
Though at the front guard’s hostile welcome, he figured it was a problem he had to deal with now.
Two halberds were pointed at him, a mere foot away, their edges glinting in the bright sun.
“Halt, you devil. I can see the vile darkness wretching inside you!”
The guard was a giant of a man, at least six feet three with full body armor, steel from the toes to the sharp edges of the bascinet helm. Though his voice was old, and his mouth rough, power still reeked out of his presence.
“I am a practitioner of Dark Magic. Is that forbidden around here?” L said, uttering the first lie of many to come.
The guard spit to the side, clenching his fists around the steel rod.
“While such twisted magic is allowed this far out from the steps of the capital, I am wary of the suspicious amount of dark mana floating inside of your black veins. It follows the same pattern of a beast of the dark, and though not in the same quantity, surely it is same in nature.”
“Offerings of my Master, Baldwin The Wise, good sir. A magic ritual gone wrong. You no doubt heard of the potential permanent damage it would do to its caster?” L waved his arms around, carelessly showing them the swirling mass of darkness gnawing at his hands.
“A furthermore reason for prohibiting you from corrupting the village with your foul magic! Begone, fiend, before my arms lose strength, allowing the halberd to lose its patience upon your rotten face.”
L shook his head. “It is not contagious. As you can see, I have it perfectly entrapped in my black veins. Besides, having such a force at your disposal would allow you to combat the corruption, no? Darkness is the prime predator of corruption, more so for chaotic hostiles.”
“Regardless, you pose a risk.”
“What risk is that?” L said, curiously.
The guard thought about it for a moment.
“Unpredictability.”
“Is not every stranger unpredictable, though? What makes my case different, other than the type of methods I use to control my mana? Surely, a soldier of your status, realizes the difference is how I utilize my mana to call out to the Gods, and which Gods I pray to in order to summon change to this world?”
“The most prominent deference, though certainly not the only one, is that you filth still tends to consert with Gods that prey upon humanity, civilization, and other kept races, something I, a human, in a civilized village, do not tend to look kindly upon.”
“That is, unfortunately, as you say.”
An awkward pause held the men's breath. L looked expectantly, even though he ended his sentence on an odd note.
Finally, the second guard broke under the pressure of silence. “Well, stranger? Get on with it!”
L arched his brows at that. “Why, good sir?”
“Because,” He started, slightly flustered, “We just agreed that you are a danger to Boliam!” the guard said.
A frown appeared upon L’s face. “We just agreed that Black Magics hold a certain danger to them, yes, but we never agreed on to whether I pose a danger.”
“And why wouldn’t we lump you in with followers of the Black Arts, as you declare yourself to be?” The first guard spoke again, cutting off the lesser witted one.
“Because,” L started, smiling widely “I am intelligent enough to realize just how much of a fucking bad idea it is to as much as attempt to harm a single, wonderful village chicken. If you have them.”
The old guard peered deeply into L. He felt his eyes dig heavily into him, assessing his mind and soul, and no doubt stats as well.
After feeling slightly violated, the guard relented, pulling the weight of the halberd up into the air.
“You better make yourself useful. Though you have not yet committed heinous crimes I would no doubt eventually hunt you for, you better make yourself worth the risk, and scarce in the vicinity of the village denizens.”
A sharp glance at his comrade brought him too to attention.
“Go and make rounds, warning them of a potentially dangerous individual, and that most of everyone should give a wide breadth from his honeyed words.”
The guard left promptly, leaving the first one to stare into the distance, ignoring L.
“How am I to help the village, if everyone would be too fearful to speak with me?” L asked the guard, who no doubt scorned at conversing with a heathen.
“You would do be able to do nothing for a villager who heeds my word and strays away from you. Only the desperate would pursue you, as they would have regardless of whether I warned them of the inevitable. Only the unscrupulous would, and thus only the unscrupulous should be at risk."
That struck L as oddly-fucking-odd.
“So you let me in, even though you're near certain I would cause damage?”
“Yes,” the guard said, simply.
“But why?”
“Because, as you stated, there are no laws prohibiting the practice of the black arts. It is not a welcome profession, but no doubt a necessity. Though, for the price we pay for your allegiance, we occasionally have the madman who attempts to rule the world. At our expense."
L would have normally let a snicker at that, but his stunning 22.5 intelligence told him that that was a fine quick way to see Kenos again, and his 13.5 Wisdom told him that that was not something L would probably want to happen, so he allowed his mouth to be shut tight as the guard went on.
“Yes, Yes, at this point, you would be thinking ‘But not all Black Magicians attempt to conquer the world, and even less dwell in the habit of undead making!’ and to that, you would correct.”
This time, L was the one to crack under the pressure. Or rather, the curiosity.
“So?”
“So,” the guard continued, his voice lowering, “The Rojenteem empire had deemed the loss of life by the black arts a well enough bargain for their skills. If not you, then the next. If not the next, then the one after that.”
“But,” L cut him off, his voice coming off stronger than it was supposed to have, from some numb region of his brain “Is the life saved through their contemptible methods not greatly outweigh those who perished to the corrupt ones? What’s one life to hundreds, potentially thousands of others?”
The guard sighed, and shook his head.
“In the same token, young adventure, would you allow a people to string up and kill a man, an innocent man, or a child, or a grandfather, or a mother, every month, if the act protected those who hung him up, potentially saving thousands?”
"Duh," L answered, the steel in his silly word choice staggering the guard.
In time, the guard nodded. A tired whisper escaped his lips, and though the helm covered most of his face, L saw a beaten man behind it. “Such is why you are a danger to civilized life."
Moments of silence passed. L bide his time, slightly annoyed. Only when the second guard returned, nodding to the first guard, did he relax his muscles.
“Cause no trouble, stranger,” The first guard said, and nodded towards the village.
A few steps past him, and L stopped.
“Is that not a risk you take, then, with anyone possessing of power?”
The guard turned his head slightly, with what L could have sworn was a smile.
“Yes, and from what source are those men and women receiving their powers from?”
The guard turned his head around, ending the conversation for good.
But L was L, and no conversation ends when he can have a say about it. "The only people who complain about the tool used to save people, are generally people who do not need saving. Who's expense do you think that will come out of? You, the strong, or others, the weak? The one about to spill his guts, or the one who watches from afar?Who can afford the price of morality? Out of the both of us, who do you see as being more callous, in that regard?"
No response came.
L walked into the village, feeling slightly odd. He felt tired and sore in the head; typically, he did not care for the silly trivialities concerning life and whatnot, but recently, such dry topics have been oddly prominent in his mind. This was not the change he had expected.
Just what did the last Jack do to me before he left?