It was somewhere around the middle my third week in this sprawling dungeon that I learned that my body's changes weren't limited to how it handled food. It was when I'd stumbled across a stream in an area where the forest crept over some foothills and decided to wash up.
"Oh that's chilly!" I cried out in surprise, before kicking off my boots and socks. When I stripped off the uniform top though I discovered that I'd lost a fair amount of weight and was definitely less soft around the middle than I had been before. My weight loss wasn't a real surprise looking back, likely because of how I was walking around ten to twenty miles every day across uneven ground and even occasionally fighting Goblins while I foraged and kept walking. The surprise was that I hadn't lost any energy despite the dramatic drop in weight, horrible diet and stress. The way My body handled food was definitely outside the realm of humanity.
I wasn't quite out of the muffin zone yet, but it was clear that I was definitely losing body fat.To my surprise it seemed my limited muscles weren't seeing a loss, perhaps due to the Fitness skill keeping me, well, fit. I would complain, but honestly if I got any weaker I wouldn't be able to walk, forage or fight as well as I currently do. It was definitely a mixed feeling knowing that.
I mean, perhaps this was the unseen price of skills in my past life. It was easy to forget these sorts of things in a world where it was all so normal. People could heal wounds with a few chanted words and gestures, strength to uproot trees was frankly all too common and the pursuit of strength was a laudable occupation. Looking back on it now I can't say they were wrong, but compared to the way Earth was only a few weeks ago, I can't say it was right either.
Basically I had a lot of emotions about the change to my life and not all of them had to do with being stuck in a dungeon eating anything that looked at least halfway edible.
"This definitely feels like I'm cheating somehow. I mean I've never tried dieting before but still, this sort of change feels off," my worries about the way my body was changing couldn't even stay bottled up inside as I muttered to myself as I kept test pinching my stomach through my shirt. "Somehow the thought of effortless abs feel very guilty compared to the work I've heard goes into having them."
Honestly it was because of how much work with diet, exercise and sometimes even intentional dehydration, that goes into having chiselled abs that kept me from trying to have a six-pack of my own. I applauded those who could do it, but it wasn't a road I was planning on going down. That's why it probably surprises no one for me to say that I was feeling a large amount of guilt towards people who struggled to lose weight and people who worked hard to improve their bodies. I honestly never paid that much attention to my body's fitness in my old life since I was active enough to keep in reasonable shape for the way I lived, but seeing my couch-ready body trimming away to a beach ready body without feeling side effects from my horrible food options definitely made me feel a pang of guilt.
Filthy Camouflage Uniform acquired.
Camouflage Uniform equipped.
With an unquestionable sense of shame towards my cheating I washed up, changed uniforms and started walking again, punishing myself by eating an extra of those stomach cramping berries instead of just the one I ate as part of my stomach's training. This time I didn't try to vomit up rainbows, so at least the effects seemed to be getting weaker. Yay?
It was on the twenty-eighth day in the dungeon, I started to see the curve of the ceiling dipping towards the top of the trees. The end of this cave was drawing near, and with it, perhaps an exit or another cave would be near.
My feet stopped as I once again smelled the rank odor of Goblins. "Fee fie foe fum, something smelly this way come," I mused with one of my stupidest grins. Admittedly this was around when my sense of entertainment slipping as I'd gone through most of the songs I knew and had taken to making jokes. I think isolation was the only reason they seemed even half as funny as I thought they did.
Scouting around I found signs of two of the little green old men coming through the area not too long ago, so I followed the trail, Bloody Skillet in hand. With no wind to worry about it was easy to find them without being betrayed to their surprisingly sharp sense of smell. Every time I'd met the cabbage patch rejects in the last several weeks it was their sense of smell and not their sight that had found me first. It was a learning experience for the me who used to hunt them from a distance since I never used to bother to get close enough for them to smell me until they were dead.
I kept as low as I could as I crab walked in a circle around them, watching as they stabbed their short, crooked spears into an anthill instead of paying any attention to the woods around them. Even Goblins get bored and that was usually the best time to attack. Reactions would be slower thanks to their being distracted and that would even the odds despite the number difference.
I had to be thankful that I had yet to find any red or blue goblins though as without help I definitely wouldn't be able to kill them and would only end up dead. Likewise I was thankful to have a dungeon with goblins, as even Orcs would be too much for me to handle.
One of the goblins shifted to get a better poking angle on the ant colony, giving me a small start as my mind briefly panicked, and I realized that my mind had started to wander. Biting the inside of my cheek to focus I only could admit that I wasn't immune to being easily distracted either. It wasn't a reassuring feeling to know that I was so easily sidetracked.
Shifting a couple steps over I lined up with the back of one of the pair, equipping the bayonet to my off hand. Stun and then kill. It was the best method I had, and the size of the skillet should let me use it like a makeshift shield against the second. Well, that was the plan at least.
As I exploded out of the brush and went to make my first attack I found a spear that had been plunged into the ant nest instead plunged into my shoulder.
-4 HP
Fast. Way too fast. This was a goblin on the verge of becoming an elite. My heart was pounding in response to the idea. The spear that had struck me pulled free in an arc of crimson, its wielder giving me a grin that spoke of its confidence to kill me and evolve.
"Back. Girl mine," my assailant grumbled to its companion.
"Fine. Watch. Show good fight," the other retorted as it stepped back, leaning against its spear.
Have I ever thanked Goblins for bothering to speak English? Because honestly if they spoke anything else outside of the common tongue of my old life I'd be lost how to taunt them.
"Don't get full of yourself you lumpy moss ball!" I shouted before slipping close to bring my skillet to bear.
Taunt (level 1) acquired. Verbal attacks will now do more psychological damage.
Wait. How in the world does THAT work? I mean, do people actually have a bar for their mental health? I pushed the stabbing spear shaft down and away from my body with the flat skillet bottom as I stepped in, just managing to avoid a new hole in my right shoulder. My stab missed though as he jumped away immediately. His skill with the spear seemed to be fairly high as he effortlessly kept me from properly getting into range with aggressive attacks followed by slipping back if I got too close.
-1 HP
-3 HP
...
-1 HP
This sort of hit and run fighting method fit the long reach of the weapon very well, and was working to whittle my health bar down in every exchange. On the other hand, I couldn't even scratch him the entire time, instead I seemed to just be spending my stamina to go in circles.
"Since chasing you doesn't work, let's try something else then," I muttered as I moved towards the slippery little spear wielder. This time was different than the other times though as when the spear drove towards me I didn't parry it or try to dodge but instead unequipped the Bloody Skillet and stepped into the strike, driving it into my shoulder again.
-7 HP
"Gah!" was the not so impressive sound out of my lips as I grabbed the crooked shaft of the weapon and did my best to hold it firm while my blade finally slipped home, driving into the creature's ribs. The light in it's eyes faded as a bloody pink foam fell from its mouth as the body slid off the blade.
It wasn't an especially sharp knife, but the tip was still sharp enough to drive in rather cleanly and long enough to reach the heart in that tiny chest rather easily. It was only thanks to three weeks of practice that I could slip it into the ribs so easily, having used that method to kill stunned or wounded Goblins when I fought them.
Before the other creature could make a move I quickly switched hands and threw the knife, the blade driving into its gut before it had a chance to run or attack. It wasn't a great throw, but with my E rank in thrown weapons striking a torso with a knife at a few paces was appropriate for the skill level.
+45 XP
Soldier has reached level 3.
Strength +1
Vitality +1
HP and Stamina restored.
Assault has increased to D rank.
Finally level 3. It wasn't much to be for a person's first class, but then again I was only a level 7 Hunter in my last life, so this was still a good step towards being at least as strong.
Switching to one of my two remaining clean uniforms I stored the now bloody one away.
Blood Soaked Camouflage Uniform Acquired.
Camouflage Uniform equipped.
Content in my small increase in ability I pushed onward, enjoying some blue mushrooms as a reward while I followed the road.
I admit that was probably about the time I switched to singing the theme songs of shows I remembered from when I was a kid. Mostly because after several weeks I was running out of songs that I knew, and just talking to myself felt a little crazy. Not that I won,t admit that I did it. A lot. Rather, it was when I'd catch myself musing aloud instead of in my head a small sense that I was possibly away from other people for too long had begun to appear,
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
It was two days later that I found myself standing stop of a tall foot hill that overlooked my hometown. As I stood on top of the hill that crested near the buildings I found myself musing about the situation, "I never thought I'd say it, but I think I can see my house from here."
Naturally my act of thinking aloud had only gotten worse in that time as well. I mean, after thirty days anyone would find themselves pressured by isolation. What I'd give for my phone to let me chat on it, or to have a pet or even a volleyball with a crude face on it to talk to.
"Run, run Mega Rangers! Might Morphin’, Mega Rangers!"
Needless to say my choice in songs to sing to distract from the oppressive silence was starting to scrape the bottom. Probably for the best because I was sure that if anyone heard me doing such a poor act under the banner of "music" I'd be exiled from humanity.
Oh, sure you think I kid about it now, but even I can't defend how I bad I was and I was the only one who could hear me!
Well not entirely alone since my "talent" was on full display for [Status] to see, but considering I didn't gain any skills for singing, dancing or otherwise performing, either it gave up on me or also felt that my performance was, to put it nicely, "lacking".
Good thing I've never wanted a job as a minstrel or pop star. Actually scratch that, with autotune I could probably still make it as a pop star. At least in terms of talent I mean. Honestly any job that doesn't let me eat as much as I want is a job I don't want. And even if I can apparently eat and no put on fat, I don't want to worry about being banned from foods I love because it conflicts with my "image".
Basically, being famous just isn't for me. Unless I was a famous food critic. Then I could probably handle it to some extent.
Anyways, back to talking about the town. Honestly, it wasn't my house that tipped me off that it was my town, but the buildings. An century old court house, a theater that used to also be a speakeasy, the library that used to be a church until they built a new, larger one across town...all of those stood out in my mind and cemented it as the place I'd spent the last eighteen years.
I wasn't sure if anyone lived there now. I mean I was pulled into a part of the dungeon a month away on foot, though with my moderate pace since my time was split between killing Goblins, foraging and walking during the day and sleeping the best I could when it got dark, and while there were signs of death near where I was then, the amount of life in this place wasn't much. While a dungeon being a habitat for monsters wasn't unusual, I mean I've heard stories of dungeons full of one type of monster or another like the Fishmen who live in the coastal caves of Durst Cove.
For the record Fishman apparently tastes a lot like Tuna. I am both excited and repulsed by that fact as I love tuna, especially in a good casserole, but since Fishmen are humanoid fish people, hence their name, I wasn't dure if I'd be able to talk myself into eating them. I mean, I would probably eat snake if asked, but if you wanted me to eat a Lahmia, that would most likely be a bridge too far. My last name isn't Donner after all.
But even when dungeons formed due to the population of a kind of monster, or even a whole community of different monsters, reaching a certain density I never heard stories about people being pulled in. Was this a mistake by [Status] or something unique to Earth?
At this point I was getting the feeling more and more like I was full of questions, but had nothing to go on to get answers. Maybe if I had a fairy companion or a sage tree to ask. Heck, even a "for morons" help book would be okay.
Well maybe not the book. I mean I never really bothered to properly sit down and read books outside of my school assignments save for the times I was reading Mom's cookbooks while learning to cook. And even then I skimmed for the tastiest looking pictures and looked for recipes to try that way. So yeah, no books because reading isn't really my sort of thing. Good on you if it is, but for me it's a ticket to Nap City. So maybe an audiobook instead of a regular book. Yeah, that'd be just about right I think.
Well, point is, I am definitely not someone with a lot of answers just a lot of questions. Though I miss the question "what's for dinner?" the most. Oh I'd honestly be willing to fight a dragon right now if it meant that I could just have a thick slice of Mom's bacon wrapped meatloaf. Oh that beautiful bacon! The tender beef with its thick meaty flavor! That cheesy center! I mean, I'd totally die, but it'd be worth it!
Great, now I'm hungry and having cravings. I grumbled to myself as I dry-roasted grasshoppers into my mouth. Not the tasty as the Goblin farmed mushrooms, but the crunchy shell and gooey center at least helped take my mind off of my desire for a real meal. Oh how glad I am that I found that Goblin roasting beetles! I mean, sure, roasting grasshoppers has always been an option in theory, but honestly I only knew how to start a fire using flint and steel at best. Methods like rubbing sticks together I've heard of but didn't have experience with so I gave up on.
As I got closer I started to notice something: there were barricades in the road. Piles of furniture, cars that'd been tipped over, bits of chain link fencing stretched across the street...basically it looked like if people could move it they had.
Hope sprang eternal as I realized that there was a chance that there were people living here. People living means there was a chance of food! A chance to find my friends! A chance to find Mom!
I started jogging towards the barricade when a loud crack caused me to freeze, a chunk of asphalt exploding in front of my feet and scattering bits of rock everywhere.
"If you don't want to die, approach slowly with your hands in the air," shouted a voice from behind the pile of debris. It was both familiar, but had a colder tone than the voice I knew.
Raising my hands I kept walking slowly forward, giving my hunch a name, "Greg?"
A familiar, but tired face popped up from behind part of a bench that had been used to fill a gap between the top parts of the barricade, "Em?" His body slowly stood up as he gaped at my approaching figure, "Oh god, it really is you!"
I smiled, "You know, for someone excited to see me, you didn’t hesitate to shoot a moment ago."
His gaping face quickly turned pale as he realized that he,d just shot at me, "Oh god, oh god, oh god... I am sorry! You have to believe me! I didn't even know it was you when I first saw you! I know it’s not an excuse, but the uniform just threw me off!"
I couldn't help but giggle just a little at the familiar sight of his normal, panicky personality coming through again. It looked like even if he had changed, he was still the Greg I grew up with. "Calm down, I'm not even mad. I mean I'm sure that we both have been through alot in the last month."
"But we've only been here for around twenty days."
I held up a hand, "Objection! I've counted the light cycles and have spent thirty of them here."
He held up his arm, exposing a wrist watch, "Em, the days here are only eight hours long. You've been treating a sixteen hour day like a twenty four one."
I frowned, "I would have known that if my phone hadn't turned into a Job Stone!"
His eyebrows wrinkled a bit at my mentioning of the Job Stone, "You're right, we do seem to have a lot to talk about. Come on, I'll show you where I'm staying so we can talk properly.". He offered a hand to me and I took it, half-climbing, half-pulled up the makeshift wall.
As we walked he gestured around, "It's not much, but this is what is left of the west side of town. The other half of town seems to have stayed out of here, along with most of the people though, so there is some small bright side."
I nodded, "And my Mom?"
"Haven't seen here. I think both her and my parents are still outside somewhere."
He led me into an empty store that had been turned into a living space, several beds and sleeping bags were spread through the large room. "This has been home for the last few weeks. The cave ends behind us and we lack enough weapons to break through the monsters in the forest."
He slowly filled me in as we sat on the floor eating jerky and cold cans of pork-and-beans. In the twenty days they'd been trapped here they lost a lot of people to the Goblins that kept trying to push into town. In the end they were forced to barricade streets and buildings to keep a portion of the town instead of trying to protect the whole thing. And while there weren't enough guns to go around there wasn't a shortage of ammo yet, mostly because the guns didn't get a lot of use. It seems a large number of the Job Stones that people have had been broken or damaged in the attacks, but everyone had chosen classes already, the most common of which was Militia.
Likewise I filled him in how I'd been living and even a little on how I knew how to use [Status], though I avoided details of how I'd died back then. I mean embarrassing is still embarrassing. Maybe some would say that keeping a past life secret would be the best method, but if I couldn’t trust my best friend of eighteen years, then what was the point of trusting anyone? So yeah, I confessed to having memories of a past life and I dare anyone to complain about it.
Seriously though, no complaints please! I just can’t keep secrets from Greg when he starts giving me that wide-eyed innocent look. If you’ve never had to deal with it, then don’t judge me! Honestly, if he gave me that look and asked for my help to rob a bank I’d probably cave and help him. Thankfully it’s a power he’s never used for evil.
"I've always wondered how you managed to be so relaxed all the time when I was just a stressed out bundle of nerves most of the time. I mean having memories of a past life like that would do it though," there was a glimmer in his eyes, and I couldn't tell if it was excitement or admiration or something else. “That reminds me, you know Frank?”
“The greasy guy who used to steal your bridal magazines? The one I only got to stop by accusing him of trying to get your attention so he could date you?”
Greg’s eyes shifted off towards the distance, “Yeah, that guy.” His shoulders shuddered a little as he remembered being dragged into that plan of mine, which honestly was not a bright moment in our past, but a notable one. “Anyways, he’s the one who showed us how to pick classes, use the inventory and has even been helping coordinate things. When he was teaching us there were some people who didn’t want to listen until he explained why he knew these things and he admitted to being a kind of mage in a past life. Of course, throwing a fireball at the Goblins definitely gave his claim a lot of credit.”
I swallowed my bite of jerky, “Definitely more useful than me. I mean, if anything that’s better than me. I mostly hunted regular animals and the occasional weak monster. And honestly I don’t even remember all of that really well.”
Greg’s smile fell comforting as I pointed out that I was basically useless in comparison. “Don’t say that. I mean, to me you’ve always been someone who has been a great help.”
"The most dangerous thing I ever had to kill was a Dragon Bear, I’m definitely less useful than someone who was a mage." I saw his wide eyes and clarified before he got any weird ideas, "It's less impressive than it sounds. Basically it's a lot like a regular Black Bear but people think it has dragon blood in it's lineage because it has scales instead of fur."
"Still more impressive than anything I've done. I mean, what’s the most impressive thing I’ve done in all the years you’ve known me?”
I waved off his admiration for me doing anything remotely impressive in my last life, "It was literally another lifetime ago and I would be bear food if I tried it in this one due to how low my stats and skills are. Heck, even a regular bear would turn me into lunch.”
He nodded without saying anything, seeming to agree with the notion. The conversation faded naturally as I focused on eating over continuing to defend my position as someone who definitely never did anything impressive. The last thing I wanted was a bloated image of myself only for the way I died to burst that bubble. Better to be known as useless than a great person who died choking on a chicken bone. The comfortable silence filled the space between us as we ate, spoons clinking in the cans, or the sound of tearing dried meat as we tore into the bag of jerky. Or rather, I ate and he watched me make an idiot out of myself as tears were running down my face now that I could focus on the food.
"Why are you crying?" His eyebrows pinched as he spoke, just like they usually did when he was worried.
"Ish sho goooooood!" I didn't bother swallowing and spoke through a mouth full of beans. I'd eaten food that I thought was delicious before, but this was truly the first time I was moved to tears by food. Maybe living so long on mushrooms, insects and poisonous plants is what did it. Maybe it was getting to eat with someone else for the first time in a long time. I don't know.
While I sat there lost in my emotions I almost swear I remember Greg smiling as he watched me eat.
Quietly in the midsts of it all Gluttony gained some experience but I wouldn't notice that until later.
---
Emily’s Food Log:
Oh praise the gods! I never thought a cold can of pork-and-beans could so goooooood. Like, my mouth is melting good! The peppered jerky was even better! Oh real food, how I’ve missed you! I’ll never take you for granted agaaaaaain! I think my bones are melting because it’s so good! My humanity might be lost to me becoming a jellyfish! Probably worth it though when compared to what I've been eating.