Hours passed before L had gotten a meager +1 Strength and +1 Endurance. As there were no levels, and few safe ways of boosting the character stats, most Divers seemed to have fallen back on the ol’ and reliable method of physical training. Simply hunting monsters was not enough, as a battle usually lasted a few minutes at most. You would either die or live by then. Instead, they took starter jobs, such as blacksmithing or wood cutting for physical builds, and tailoring and tanning for agility build to gain some surplus for equipment and stats, as in L’s case, one point of strength was basically enough to boost his strength levels by a whole 10%. It was also relatively easier to gain stat points for those that are lower than 10, but more worthwhile for anything above 10, 15, 20, and so on. Spending months on being slightly stronger was hilariously uneconomical, and was only an option for those who lacked the talent to pursue power through other means, such as martial arts or magic.

One huge criticism Null online received, was the large emphasis on talent; both in the starter stats, which for the most part, were based on the physical body and mind, and would not change for the better considerably, and the necessary talent beyond the stat points to gain any type of powers.

It was a controversial world mechanic; for the worth of the Diver’s worth to be wholly decided by what he was, and not by what they could become, but it was something that was also an attraction; it encouraged a wider gap between the weak and the strong, not by level, or how much time they’ve spent into hunting, but by their individual worth.

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“Timber!” A man bellowed. His yell had snapped L back into reality, only for him to notice that out of the corner of his eye, a tree was slowly leaning towards his general direction. L placed the ax his shoulder and calmly walked away, taking cover behind the tree he was cutting. A forty foot ash tree fell a few meters away from him, the branches snapping and sending shards dangerously close to where he had been standing half a second ago.

Then, as calmly as he had walked away, L returned to his position, navigating through the wood chip, and began swinging his ax.

The men around him watched, some of them impressed by his thick skin, and some of them somewhat grumpy he was still standing. The hauling process began, and no further accidents occurred.

In the high noon, where the heat was at its worst, the head lumberjack called for a break. Most of the men returned to the village, to fetch their meal. L, having no one willing to sell him food at any reasonably price, glumly hung around the site, pondering why anyone was surprised mutants like him usually relaid on crime to make a living, and why anyone in their right mind would even imagine going this route.

Few were willing to talk to, but few were not all, which made L’s task much easier, an observation that was somewhat odd, considering L himself did not know what his task was. He knocked the invasive feeling off, and sat down on the trunk Jroll was sitting at.

“Thanks, Jroll, for warning me,” he said.

With a piece of bread in his mouth, Jroll shrugged. “It’s bad manners, to hurt a fellow wood cutter cus’ he’s an abomination.”

Thanks, how kind of you, L thought, but before he spoke, Jroll replied to him. “I did not do it cus’ I’m nice, but because we lumberjacks have a code,” he said, seriously.

L’s shoulder slumped as he breathed out, cursing the maddening giggles that he heard in the far off distance.