"What? Something cool happen?" Alan asked. From his perspective, Clay must have seemed like he was staring off into space whenever he looked at the windows.
"It's letting me spin some sort of wheel." Clay raised his hand with a wary smile as he selected >Yes. "Things keep getting weirder and weirder…”
Maybe he was becoming weird as well. He was actually excited to see what might come out.
>[The Wheel of Welter] spins for you!
>(???) bonuses are disabled before the power of the Wheel…
The second Clay tapped the window, it expanded in size until it was as tall as him and five times as wide. After its size reached that point, parts of it shrunk inwards until the translucent red box became a circle. A blue arrow appeared at the top of the circle, pointing downwards towards a set of wedge segments. The one it was currently pointing towards sported a black question mark, as did all of them.
Clay thought at first that it might want him to physically spin something, but a few seconds after taking shape, it started to spin on its own.
Click-click-click-click-click!
Without knowing what any of the possibilities were, there wasn't anything Clay could pray for. This actually took a lot of the weight off his mind and allowed him to enjoy the show the system was putting on.
Click-click! Click..Click…Click…Click.
It landed on a question mark that was no different from the others. The black symbol flashed white, then was replaced with a small picture of…some kind of box?
>[The Wheel of Welter] has landed on [Mystery Box - Type DG] (Delayed Gratification)
>A Mystery Box that gives out a random item! The tier of the item is decided by how long you* go without opening it!
>Current Tier: Common
*Only (Clay) may open this box! (Clay) must open it on purpose!
The window shrunk back down and broke apart into glittering lights that startled Alan.
Clay pointed. "You can see this?"
Alan looked at it, then at Clay, then back at the lightshow. "No."
Clay almost gave Alan a withering stare while his pointing hand reached in to grasp at the lights.
When his fingers curled, the lights gave way to a small cube that now hung from Clay's pinching hold. It was small and light enough that he could keep it from falling with two fingers and his thumb. The box was white with black, rounded corners and had a grey circle around a red button. There were no seams that suggested it was a box made to be opened, so it just looked like a bland cube.
>Reach Level 4 to spin [The Wheel of Welter] again!
Alan pointed at the unremarkable-looking cube and said in a deadpan voice, "I'm not seeing this shit either. I'm not seeing you pull a (What's that? A box?) box out of fairy lights."
"Then I guess you're also not hearing that I have to wait to open it," Clay said with a quirk at the corner of his lips. "The window says I'll get a better prize that way."
"Jeeesus, more waiting? Did it at least give you some sorta clue on when you can open it? A week? A month?"
"Nothing like that, but…" Clay looked closely. A tiny window popped up next to it.
>[Mystery Box - Type DG]
>Current Tier: Common
"I'll have some idea of when it could be worth opening, at least." He dropped his backpack onto the ground to shove the box into. The description explicitly told him that he couldn't open it accidentally, so there wasn't any worry about the button pressing against something in his bag and ruining his prize.
"I guess you got something to look forward to." Alan bent down and cleaned the blade of his machete on to the mutilated zombie's shirt. "What about the rest of your level up? You gonna be the big man on campus now?"
"With only two points for Skills and stats apiece? Definitely not…" He groaned while looping his arm back through his bag, eyes reading over the Skill Store's selection. "Damn it. If I'd gotten just one more point, I could have bought the Skill that makes me good at guns."
"That's a bummer, but you're probably better off just getting good with guns the ol' fashioned way. I don't know how any of this Skill stuff works, but I don't think you'd treat guns with the fear and respect they deserve if you just had aimin' skills beamed into your brain."
In the time he'd spent with Alan, Clay learned that his teacher had always been a little bit of a gun nut. Milly apparently hadn't liked it, but she ended up looking really foolish when things took the turn they did.
Should've just divined the zombie apocalypse was coming, idiot.
All this talk of guns did put his eye back on a certain Skill, though…
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[WHAT RECOIL?] (2 SkP) - Passive
It can be hard to keep those guns when they buck around like that, right? Even if you're a stronger sort and have no problem with recoil in normal situations, you can't get very creative or one-hand higher-caliber weapons, right?
You experience 10% less recoil when using mundane weapons.
Upgrading this Skill increases the amount of recoil it reduces.
---------------------------------------------------------
This was in his price range, but was it worth the only two Skill Points he was likely to have for a little while? More importantly, was it worth filling out his slots again?
The more he thought about it, the more he realized the answer was undoubtedly no. Clay could mitigate the effect of recoil with Strength, a stat that he'd definitely be investing into in the future. It was true that he'd be unable to get as creative as the Skill description described…but he didn't really care about impressing some text.
"Yeah, you're probably right…" Clay said idly, just so Alan wouldn't think he was being ignored. Alan seemed to realize Clay was off in his own and so threw his hands up and stepped away to scout things out a little further ahead.
He'd save the SkP for later.
As for his stats…
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You are Clay
HEALTH: 0/0 | STAMINA: 3/4
---
LEVEL: 2/11 | EXP: 5/1000 | SKILLS: 2/3
---
STAT POINTS: 2/7 | SKILL POINTS: 2/7
---
BODY -
Strength: 2 | Speed: 0 | Resilience: 0 | Endurance: 2
MIND -
🔒 | 🔒 | 🔒 | 🔒
HEART -
🔒 | 🔒 | 🔒 | CIDURAC
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
---
-SKILLS-
[IMMUNITY - LV 2] | [SOUND OF SILENCE - LV 1]
---
-ACHIEVEMENTS-
(+1 Max Level | +2 Skill Slots)
---
CURRENT WORLD: Dead and Dying
OBJECTIVE: Survive
TIME REMAINING: ???
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He wanted to dump into Strength, but there were more things to consider.
Clay could use these points to unlock one of his other hidden stats. He's been burning with curiosity about what they could be, but was it worth using such valuable points to satiate his curiosity? Probably not.
On the other hand, it only took a single point to unlock one. If he was going to get a better grip on how to build himself, he'd need to know what his options are. Unlocking them would also probably allow him to see what some of the Skills in the shop bolstered so he could keep them in mind.
He grit his teeth.
I'm just making excuses! I need to be patient and use these points well, or else I'll end up carelessly throwing them away! Show a little self-restraint for once in your life, you fucking--!
>Spend 1 Stat Point to unlock a mystery Heart stat?
>Yes
Wasn't it also important to get a feel for what the Heart category affected? He could sort of guess what something like Mind had in store, but Heart could be pretty much anything.
It was definitely not because he gave in. Clay assured himself many times in his head of how strong his will really was underneath it all. This was all logic. He was very logical. He loved logic.
>LUCK: Fortune of the spirit
Now that was not something he expected. Luck? Cool!
The spark of joy at a new stat gave way to regret almost immediately.
It wasn't like he was going to put any points in it right now, and it also didn't end up giving him a clue as to what the other Heart stats could be. All in all, it ended up being a waste.
Should he just put the last point into Strength and be done with it? Maybe he could put it into Resilience and unlock his Health?
Ugh, neither option felt like it would do enough good to matter. Given how quickly his Stamina drains, a single punch would probably break right through the tiny amount of Health he'd get from the deal and hurt him anyway. His Strength? Two points only showed minor changes, so one more was unlikely to make a big difference.
And if he wanted more?
>EXP: 5/2000
More killing. A lot more. If his math was right, he'd need to kill 200 Crowders to level up again.
He ran a hand through his hair.
This progression was so goddamn slow. The lack of immediate, tangible results from his points made him feel like he was probably never going to get far at this rate. He was going to end up dragging Alan and his family down if he couldn't get strong quickly.
It was probably his fault for not making moves on paths that would bring experience points faster.
Killing those special zombies had given him a decent boost.
Yeah, they even gave him Skill Slots when he killed a new kind for the first time.
If I gun mostly for them, then I could definitely get stronger. It'd be dangerous, but would it really be that bad if I ended up--
"Ow!"
Clay was pulled from his thought all at once as he felt Kissy bite at one of his fingers. She'd leaned halfway out of his jacket pocket to ensure a painful attack. Unlike some of the light nipping she did when annoyed, these more serious bites really hurt.
"Fucking--Cut that out! I'm not in the mood!" Clay whipped his hand in the air in an attempt to ease some of the pain. Kissy curled back into his pocket.
"Not in the mood for what?" Alan asked as he stepped back into the alley after hearing Clay's shouting.
Face turning red, Clay tried to disguise the reason for his hand movements by doing so with the other one as well.
"A-Ah! The windows keep reminding me that I leveled up! They must have been just as excited as me!"
Something about being caught whining after taking a bite from the rat he supposedly had control of felt too embarrassing to openly admit.
Thinking it over again, this slow progression wasn't really that big of a deal. It meant he wouldn't be doing anything flashy any time soon, but things were going just fine at this pace. He was helping Alan bring plenty of supplies home and completing his objective of surviving at the same time. It definitely sucked that he threw away a point that would have better served him in Strength, but there'd be more points eventually. As long as he stays the course and just puts his future points into his Body stats, then everything would work out.
In fact, the only real danger to him right now would be encountering one those special zombies. Forcing an encounter with one in pursuit of XP was just asking for trouble that he wasn't prepared for.
As they continued their trip to the gas station, Clay peeked at his Skill Shop again.
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[SCORE!] (2 SkP) - Passive
Someone up there really likes you.
Gain a 5% bonus to Luck. Gain a further 10% when searching areas for supplies.
Upgrading this Skill increases your bonus.
---------------------------------------------------------
The stat hidden inside of [Score!] had been Luck. He should've seen that coming.
The spenditure hadn't been entirely for nothing. [Score!] obviously wasn't something that would be worth buying right now, but it was good to know. Once he had some spare SkP and a Skill Slot to burn, who knows?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gas stations in big cities looked so strange, especially this one. Normally, the sizes of buildings were relatively even when you drove down a road, but the gas station was so disproportionately small in comparison to the giant buildings beyond the street corner it called home that Clay had a thought to chuckle at the sight.
He didn't laugh, but he did point it out to Alan. A tiny building living among giants with the audacity to name itself 'Kevin's Heaven'.
Alan didn't find it so funny. "I used to come to this gas station all the time when you didn't have to keep in mind how loud your car was. I'm the proud owner of a Golden Cowboy card, which I do still keep, and I don't take kindly to you talking down about America's finest gas station."
Seems he misunderstood what Clay was finding humorous.
There was enough daylight that they didn't worry about turning on their flashlights, though they did have them at the ready.
In terms of supplies like food and other useful things, this place was just about picked clean. They weren't here for that stuff, but to get their hands on diesel to fuel the heaters Alan looted a little while back. He also had the 12-volt batteries to power them but only realized a few days ago that his diesel supply was running dangerously low.
As winter approached, they needed to secure a way to provide heat during the coldest days of the year. A siphon hose, a few red fuel canisters attached to their bags, and a date with the refueling pipe seemed as good a fix as any.
"Not looking forward to it," Alan said as they checked for any scraps that could be worth taking. "I'm talking the winter stuff. To conserve diesel, a lot of us are gonna have to huddle together in one room. I'm talkin' people from other apartments, too. I know you like to scuttle off to your cave when the day is done, so just be in the know that you're gonna be freezing your ass off. Loner-style."
"Thanks for the advice," Clay replied, then mumbled to his pocket as he reached down to pick up a sealed sleeve of white-power donuts and a cheap, plastic lighter. "Not that I ever really get to sleep totally on my own. Isn't that right, Kissy?"
Kissy hissed at his face pressing so close.
As they checked deeper crevices of the store, away from the front windows, they started using their flashlights. Clay decided to scope out the back office while Alan scooped a few dented boxes of cigarettes.
Clay opened the door to the office and shined his light inside. He wasn't really sure what he was looking at and simply stood deadpan for a few seconds, but his breathing stopped once he could comprehend the view in front of him.
Floors, walls, and ceiling. All of it was obscured by a layer of orange-red meat, which writhed and squirmed as if it were breathing. Anything that had once sat in this office was gone. All that remained was an undulating mass spreading into every corner wherever Clay had the courage to angle his flashlight.
There was one thing he passed over that had been different, though. A shape?
He slowly drifted his flashlight back towards the center of the room where he could make out a…torso? A ridiculously skinny torso, even more so than the Spooker's. Skeletal seemed an understatement for describing its body. It was like the creature really was just a skeleton, and meat-glistening red was the color of its bones.
A little lower was a pair of equally thin legs that tapered off and connected to the meat on the ground like two muscle strands.
Moving back to the torso, Clay shakily observed that it had no arms.
Slightly higher up was where he finally made eye contact with it. The light reflected off of two wide-open, milky white eyes that startled Clay enough to nearly make him drop his flashlight.
He prepared for something to come of it, his muscles tensed and ready to jump to the side.
But nothing happened.
It was just staring at him. Wait, no. It was staring past him, like it didn't even care Clay was there.
He recognized those vacant eyes. A lot of the zombies that had obviously been around for a while had the same ones, but this was the first time he ever believed that they weren't truly registering him.
Was it sleeping? Did zombies sleep?
Its eyes were set in an angular face with hollow cheeks that matched the rest of its body, mouth hanging open as if it were panting. It was still as a statue, with the only movement in the room being the subtle shifting of the room-meat.
The top of its head was connected to the ceiling like its legs. It gave him the impression of one of those floor to ceiling punching bags. If it weren't suspended in the air and standing in front of Clay, he supposed it would be two full heads taller than him.
Clay was stuck. What should he do? Should he call out to Alan? Should he keep standing there? Should he close the door, at least?
"You good over there, genius?" Alan asked from behind him. He sounded like he was still on the other side of the store. Clay couldn't turn to check.
He was silent, but Alan's voice did at least get him out of his funk. Now wasn't the time to freeze up and do nothing; it was the time to act decisively.
It hadn't made any moves against him, or any moves at all for that matter. Clay might have been wrong, but there was something distinctly…vulnerable about its appearance.
His free hand drifted towards his toolbelt.
Maybe now is the best chance to shoot it!
At the same time Clay started to raise his gun, he felt something press against his foot with a soft squelching sound. He instinctively hopped back, half-expecting a part of his foot to suddenly be missing. When he found himself whole, he realized that the room-meat on the floor expanded through the doorway enough to touch him.
The section of room-meat that made contact with him reacted viscerally. Unlike the slow, rhythmic movements of before, it jolted and spiked upwards like an angry cat. Its intense fluctuations started at the point of contact and worked its way back towards the thing in the middle of the room, then the entire mass started to ferociously tremble.
It blinked. White eyes were replaced with unnervingly normal hazel ones.
It was definitely looking at him now.
The room-meat started to contract and shrink towards it.
Clay fired his gun at it in a panic, too off-kilter to even think of using his [Sound of Silence] Skill.
BANG!
He hadn't adjusted his aim or his posture at all, just a point and shoot. There was no way for him to know where that bullet just went, but it certainly hadn't hit the creature.
"What the hell are you doing, kid!?" Alan shouted at him. Clay could hardly hear his footsteps stomping closer over the sound of his own heartbeat.
Room-meat slid and gathered against its body, forming around its legs like a thick layer of skin. Once coated, the layer would tighten and flex. They were muscles. Monstrously large, obviously powerful muscles.
As soon as Clay realized what was going on, he turned around and attempted to sprint as far from the door as possible. Unfortunately, he ended up running right into Alan and being stopped dead by a hand on his shoulder.
Alan was screaming in his face, "Are you losing your head!? We gotta give up the whole outing because of you, you dumbass! What did you even kill just now!?"
He attempted to push Clay to the side so he could look inside, but he received enough pushback to be momentarily held off as the weaker man tried to shove him away from the door.
"Alan! We need to go! I don't know what the fuck that thing is, but I think I just pissed it off!"
In the short-lived shoving match they had, Alan stopped after being able to see past him enough to realize something wasn't right. There was no means for Clay to know exactly what he saw, but it left his face pale and his hands pulling Clay towards the front door instead of trying to push him out of the way.
"Shit! Let's just get the hell out of here!" Alan yelled.
After some tugging, they were both moving in near-unison for the door as the world shook behind them.