Book 1 – Chapter 8: The tangled threads of Fate – Bobo_Parasite King

Boston, Massachusetts. Harlequin Brother's Circus.

No one ever asked Bobo what he wanted to be when he grew up. As the son and grandson and great-grandson of a Clown, Bobo's fate was chosen for him from the start. It didn't impress his father that he'd built a working engine from scrap for his Junior year Science fair. When the US army offered him a scholarship to one of the most elite military academies in the nation, his father had shaken his head and burnt the letter. When the President himself had shown up at their house to congratulate their son for cracking a cipher that had stumped top experts for years, his parents had turned them away at the door.

No, no one has ever thought to ask Bobo...

And Bobo never had the guts to argue. He could blame it on his father's seemingly random bouts of anger and violence. Or maybe on his mother's lack of care for anything not in a bottle. He could even blame it on his naturally introverted nature, frequently preferring the comforts a book to other people (ironic for a clown). But no, he knew the answer. He was simply a Coward. That was all. He always had been; ever since he was young, he could never say no to anyone. Not his "friends," not his teachers, or the bullies, and especially his father.

Well, look where that got him now? Juggling slippery objects in a worn-down, half trashed tent while a bunch of angry little monsters booed and hissed at him from the stand. He used his foot to press a peddle on a nearby chest, which threw a sharp butcher knife into the air. With practiced hands, he snatched it out of the sky and added it to his ever-growing circle of random juggling objects.

That at least seemed to get a rise out crowd, though their mocking grins and crackling laughter just made Bobo's cheeks flush with anger and frustration, rather than pride. One member of the audience nudged their buddy sitting beside them and held something up with a grin. Their buddy laughed and nodded, then grabbed the object and hurled it towards Bobo. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and he'd grown to expect it by now. He reached up to grab it and add it to his circle, but as the object entered the light of the stage, Bobo felt his stomach lurch.

He froze, as the other objects tumbled out of their orbit and fell to the ground. The object in his hand had long, brown hair, matted in blood and dirt, and something else he didn't want to think about. Its face was still frozen in a look of shock and terror that would never fade.

It was a head. A human head.

Bobo screamed, tossed the head back into the stands, inciting a fit of hysterical laughter from the crowd. Suddenly, dozens of random body parts rained from the stands, pelting Bobo and adding a new layer of filth to the already dried blood and grime that caked his costume.

Bobo's eyes seethed and boiled as he stared up at the green, warty audience that surrounded him by the hundreds. The knuckles of his hand went white around the handle of the butcher knife as he felt himself shake, and his teeth grind. Then, all of his rage and frustration vanished, as a deep voice from the stands washed over him like a bucket of cold water.

[???] "ᗷOᖇIᑎG, ᑕᒪOᗯᑎ. YOᑌ TOᒪᗪ TᕼIS OᑎE YOᑌ ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ ᒪIᐯEᑎ TᕼE ᑭᗩᖇTY ᑌᑭ. ᗯE ᗩᖇE ᗪISᗩᑭᑭOIᑎTEᗪ..."

[Bobo]: "Th-That was only the first act, your Majesty! Fear not, I'm sure you'll enjoy what I have in store next! It'll blow your socks off!"

[Random Heckler]: "Stupid Human! the Great King doesn't wear socks!"

There was a moment of silence, before poor goblin heckler proceeded to explode into a fountain of meaty chunks as its neighbors scattered.

[Goblin King] "ᗯᕼᗩT ᕼᗩᐯE ᗯE TOᒪᗪ YOᑌ ᑎITᗯITS ᗩᗷOᑌT IᑎTEᖇᖇᑌᑭTIᑎG ᑌS? ᗩS ᖴOᖇ YOᑌ, ᕼᑌᗰᗩᑎ, ᗯE ᗩᖇE ᗩ ᗰEᖇᑕIᖴᑌᒪ KIᑎG. YOᑌ ᕼᗩᐯE OᑎE ᗰOᖇE ᑕᕼᗩᑎᑕE. Iᖴ YOᑌ ᑕᗩᑎ'T ᗰᗩKE ᗰE ᒪᗩᑌGᕼ, TᕼEᑎ ᗯE'ᖇE SᑌᖇE ᗯE ᑕᗩᑎ ᖴIᑎᗪ ᗩ ᗰOᖇE...EᑎTEᖇTᗩIᑎIᑎG ᑌSE ᖴOᖇ YOᑌ."

[Bobo]: "Thank you my King! Your wisdom and mercy know no bounds!"

Bobo bowed several times to the massive figure that took up nearly three rows all by itself. His heart was racing so fast he thought it was going to explode. He didn't even see how the goblin heckler had died. The King had simply pointed at the thing as it was done. As he stood, Bobo's eyes drifted towards the glowing blue screen at the corner of his vision.

WARRNING!

Sponsored Quest initiated!

Party Time!

Objective: Provide entertainment to the Goblin King's Victory Party - 0/1

Reward: 1 Rank-C skill token, Class: Royal Jester

Sponsor's Message:

'OH! OH! ASK HIM IF HE KNOWS ANY MAGIC TRICKS! I love magic tricks!" - 🏱︎♋︎❒︎⧫︎⍓︎♌︎□︎⍓︎📂︎📂︎📂︎

A smile crept on Bobo's face, hidden by the shadows and makeup, as he watched the window fade away.

No, no one ever asked Bobo what he wanted to be. No point asking a coward who couldn't say no. But then again, that worked just fine for him. That just gave him the room to do what he did best.

Thus, amidst the booing crowd and drying blood, the gears of a revolution began to turn, and a plan that would shape mankind's future was born.

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Obtained C-rank Soul Stone (lvl 42 Leviathan Worm [Young])

"Leviathan Worms never stop growing, and will continuously seek out larger and stronger hosts. Rumor has it that the oldest and most powerful of the Leviathan Worms feed on the very heart of Planets, gaining them the moniker of 'Worldeaters'. " - Extract from "The Universal Guide to the Beasts of Laniakea"

Processing Data, Standby....

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

Warning: Data overload.

Host Soul has entered critical state.

Attempting to re-calibrate.....

Processing Complete.

Please choose from the following

1): Class Change - Titan (C-rank)

2): Class Change - Symbiote (D-rank)

3): Class Change - Bioweapon (D-rank)

4): Race Change - Worldeater (Humanoid) (A-Rank)

5): Race Change - Worm-kin (Humaniod) (E-rank)

6): Assimilate - Gain 20% of absorbed Soul's accumulated experience. 85% of gaining random skill, C-rank or below from absorbed Soul.

Please make your Choice....

Host Soul unresponsive, beginning automatic selection.

Scanning.

Congratulation, you have gained the Symbiote Class!

Symbiote

Rank-D

[What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine]

+10% Health per Class Level.

+22.5% Mana per Class Level

+ 5% Attuned Target's base Health/Mana per Class Level (added to Symbiote's total Pool).

+10% of Attuned Target's Health/Mana per Class level (added to Target's total Pool).

+3 Attuned Target limit per 5 Class levels.

Gained Skill: [Mana Sight] (E-rank)

Gained Skill: [Siphon] (E-rank)

Gained Skill: [Duplicate] (D-rank)

Gained Skill: [Graft] (E-rank)

Contestant ID# - Sol-03-00000000001 has leveled up!

Jonah groaned and clutched his brain pounded against his skull in the worst hangover he'd ever had. Even worse than that time Uncle Billy had challenged him to a drinking contest. Never try to out-drink a sailor, especially one who fancies himself a modern day swashbuckler.

[Jonah]: What the hell happened?

Response: Host attempted to absorb a Soul far beyond their capacity, resulting in significant soul damage. Host was placed into a induced state of suspension while the damage was repaired.

Jonah froze as the window popped into existence in response. After a month of trying everything he could thing of to get the System to respond to his inquires, to no results, it finally did? What changed?

Response: This is an automated response system designed to help the Host rehabilitate from the sustained soul damage. Host is advised to remain calm and refraim from excessive Mana consumption until otherwise stated.

Annnnd now it was reading his mind... just great...

At least now, he might be able to get some answers.

He struggled as he sat up, a wave of fatigue washing over him like he hadn't slept properly in days. He thought about sending out a pulse of [Arcanic Regeneration] before the System's warning flashed in his mind. He didn't understand what "soul damage" really ways, but the name alone told him it was better not to risk anything.

His legs shook as he stood, and a wave of dizziness slammed into him. After a moment, the sensation passed, and he looked around. Only to realize he COULD look around.

He could see.

Well, not really "see." His eyes told him that the faint blue glow that the Worm's blood produced had long since faded and thrown his prison back into perpetual darkness. But at the same time, a different kind of "light" suffused the environment. It seemed to radiate dimly from every inch of space around him, producing a high definition image in his mind. It wasn't until he noticed the way the "light" rippled and flowed as he breathed that it clicked what he was seeing. It was mana.

Jonah turned his attention back to the overlapping windows he'd dismissed and started to flip through them. Eventually, he came across the most likely culprit of the strange sensation.

Mana Sight

Rank - E (upgradeable)

Level 1

Passive

[Once you open your eyes to the truth of the World, there's no turning back...] - Marrco the Mad

Promotes the growth of Photoreceptive cells in the user's eyes that are attuned to Mana wavelengths. Each level increases the number of these cells present, resulting in a higher sensitivity to Environmental Mana.

Can be further upgraded to focus on Mana Cones, increasing the user's ability to differentiate the type and nature of mana, or Mana Rods, increasing their ability to detect the intensity and movement.

Marrco the Mad again, uh? Jonah could only shake his head. He was still hesitant to trust anything from that man, but he had to admit, the skill was useful. If he understood it correctly, increasing its level would be a general, overall boost, mostly thanks to just the increase of cells. On the other hand, specializing in Mana Cone would likely focus more on the mana equivalent of "color" or wavelengths. Where Mana Rods would increase the "detail," he could take in. He was pretty sure that wasn't how eyes really worked, but then again, given what he learned from [Arcanic Regeneration], not many things from Marrco made sense.

The best part of the skill was it seemed to be passive. No upkeep needed.

Jonah looked around, taking in the odd sensation of [Mana Sight], the best way he could describe it, was seeing the world through one of those old-time black and white films. Colorless other than different shades of black, while being slightly grainy and distorted. He assumed this had something to do with the low level of the skill, but he didn't have any way of confirming it yet.

He found himself standing in the middle of what he assumed were the remains of the Leviathan Worm's head. It was a bit hard to tell since a good half of it had already been digested, leaving only the thick, heavy shell. In fact, it seemed most of the Worm had met a similar fate, as bits and pieces of shell littered the chamber, in surprisingly good condition, for as far gone as most of the squishier bits were. How long had he been out for?

More questions he didn't have answers to. Hopefully, now, he could start to put some of the pieces together. But first, he had one more thing to do. Jonah flicked open his quest description with a grin but soon found his lip twitching...

Book 1 – Chapter 8: The tangled threads of Fate – Bobo

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