After four weeks of training, Dustin could finish his warm-up routine before he fainted. He seemed more awake each day, pushing through more tasks before tiring.
His mother almost cried seeing him up and working. She received raving feedback from the friend who had hired Dustin.
He was a hardworking kitchen hand, cleaning up the dishes and clearing tables like a tornado. With the spare cash he earned on the side, he almost emptied his bank account each week buying things.
Dustin purchased books for subjects he wanted to learn, going through at least one each week. He shot an email off to the western martial arts club and signed up for a preview lesson.
Dustin attended the club recruitment day held by the university, heading straight to the archery club to sign up.
Ben joined Dustin in his walk around the showcases, surprising Dustin as he signed up alongside him for archery.
They weaved through the maze of tarps, tables, and activities, carried along by a crowd of students to the end.
“You should join us for Ultimate Frisbee,” Ben said, dragging Dustin over to the colourful tent that towered over the others at the back. Three tall male students stood behind a folding table, handing out free frisbees and collecting expressions of interest. Ben greeted them when they approached, leaving Dustin behind.
After a minute of talking Ben turned around and held his hand out to Dustin, “This is my friend Dustin, the one doing chemical engineering.”
Dustin shook their hands and listened as they carried on about the game, expressing their love for the sport. Dustin smiled at their interest in it, remembering emotions buried deep within himself.
By the day's end, he had signed up to join four clubs other than archery and martial arts. Each of the clubs worked into increasing the areas he needed improvement.
There were poetry and short story clubs that hosted nights for students to read out their work for others. Dustin had no interest in writing the pieces, but reading in front of a crowd was beneficial to growing more charismatic.
While it was unconfirmed, Dustin suspected that he could increase wisdom by learning about religion and mythology, so he signed up for one of the religious groups.
Baseball was a popular sport at Dustin’s university from the high number of American and Japanese students, so he joined the club to help with his fitness routine. A baseball bat could also serve as a good makeshift weapon, whilst avoiding suspicion if he carried it around.
The last club was Ultimate Frisbee that Ben forced him to join, refusing to let his friend go after seeing him join so many clubs at once.
Dustin kept an eye on his stat sheet as the days flew by. He increased the numbers by one when he no longer shook under the pressure of weights or learned the basics of a new subject.
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The air was humid as Ben and Dustin made their way over to the school’s sporting fields, where the club placed a line of straw targets at varying distances. Each had a circular piece of paper on it, colours draw on it ending with red in the centre, points awarded for each ring.
They met up with other students heading towards the field, walking towards tables covered in bows.
Three tall members of the club greeted them, assigning each person to a teacher and a target. The teacher ran them through the basics of archery - how to hold the bow where to nock the arrow, and how to aim. Dustin listened to the lecture, though he knew how to hold the bow.
Dustin accepted the plastic bow, masking his disappointment. He pulled back the string, testing the resistance, and found it lacking. The bows were training tools, not intended for actual use.
Ben was giddy with excitement as his turn to fire came around, standing still as he nocked one arrow, pulling the string back to his cheek. The tension released with a twang as he let go, watching the arrow fly. It looked to be heading towards the target, but veered off course, landing in the grass beyond.
Ben grumbled something, but the instructor complimented him on his form. It was natural to miss the first few shots, as archers need to get accustomed to firing before they could learn to aim.
Two other students took their turns before Dustin stepped up. He stood with his feet apart and held the bow up in front of him. The target was fifteen metres away, a short distance, easy enough to hit with enough experience.
The instructor's voice faded away as Dustin pulled the string against his cheek, the arrowhead waving from side to side. His left eye twitched, and he opened his right hand, letting his other hand holding the bow swing to the left. The arrow flew towards the target, hitting the edge of the paper, worth about 5 points.
“Wow! You didn’t tell me you could fire a bow, Dustin.” Ben exclaimed, his eyes wide as Dustin stared downrange. To others, it might have been a stroke of luck or some innate skill, but for Dustin, it was the opposite.
He had been firing bows for over ten years, and as he lowered the bow, his face shrivelled in disgust. Dustin resisted the urge to throw the bow on the ground and forced his lips into an upward curve, withdrawing to the back of the line.
His second arrow was better, but far from what he expected. The instructor looking after him gave a smug look to the other club members and had Dustin sign up under him. He would look after Dustin’s training and helping him purchase his own supplies and equipment.
Dustin didn’t care who was taking credit for ‘teaching him’, so long as he had a place to practice without judgement.
The training ended with Ben signing up to the same mentor Dustin did. The next training session was next week, and they handed Dustin a flyer for the archery club in town. The university could not dedicate an area for archery practice, as for most other clubs, thus they worked with outside services to enable more sessions and a proper training ground.
Dustin left the grounds unsatisfied at his performance, intent on improving to an acceptable standard. Early dungeon exploration would rely on Dustin’s capabilities in hand to hand combat. His weapon of choice was a quarterstaff, often used as an aid to casting spells.
Dustin remembered little of what the dungeon was that appeared on the university campus, only the building and the room it encapsulated. He wanted to remain discreet, limiting his modes of entry.
Priority one was his own safety, followed by the safety of the other pioneers inside the dungeon with him. Dustin would enter the dungeon with civilians unaccustomed to fighting and killing.
It was crucial for Dustin to maintain his identity as a student. He needed to convince the others his presence was accidental, not there by choice.
Dustin created a schedule for every week leading up to the dungeon, fitting something into every hour of the day. He would spend the mornings learning new material and working out at the gym. Eat lunch, then jump straight into archery and martial arts practice. Dustin wanted to keep his skills with the quarterstaff at an acceptable level, even if he wasn’t planning on using them yet.
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Dustin spent the afternoon reading books and working his part-time job as a kitchen hand. The money he earned went straight into purchasing more books, and his own set of padded gear. They made the sparring equipment with padded cloth layered over each other, plastic covering the joints and mesh for his face. While not offering the full protection other armours might, it was available, and normal for one practising western martial arts to own.
With a set path ahead, part of his worry destabilised and his confidence bloomed again. Each increase to his imaginary attribute block was a momentous leap in strength, and his body showed it. He lost the lanky stature, replacing it with a well-toned body.
His stamina grew larger as the mix of diet and exercise worked to form a healthy body. The books of warfare and religion were a look into the past he had lost, information disappearing as libraries burned and they snuffed the internet out of existence.
Dustin realised as the day of reckoning approached that he was missing a key factor in his plan for the upcoming dungeon. Dustin was too busy preparing to enter alone he ignored the surrounding people.
Ben and other members of the clubs were strong enough for him to rely on. The baseball team was full of fit young men, the archery club had some skilled bowmen, and the western martial arts club trained their students well.
Handpicked students from any of his clubs could clear out a dungeon of a lower level, which was the only information Dustin knew about the dungeon other than its location. The students and teacher that were reported as missing and later discovered to be dead numbered less than fifteen.
When a trained group of pioneers entered, news surrounding the dungeon dropped overnight, a usual occurrence for weak dungeons.
Dustin formed a team from friends he made within the clubs and organised for them to meet up on the day that Dos opened. The dungeon itself would claim a classroom in the arts faculty building, stealing the students and teacher inside to an unknown world.
From the information Dustin had gathered before his focus switched to self-preservation, Dos created enclosed areas of foreign worlds that pioneers entered to slay monsters. Dustin had met with other races taking part in the Dos before, sometimes coming to blows, and other times parting ways under peaceful conditions.
The higher level a pioneer achieved, the higher Dos they provided their killer when they died. Any equipment they carried would also drop the ground, and when in proximity to their location of death, a screen would allow others pioneers to loot the victim's inventory.
It was dangerous exploring dungeons, even worse alone. Dungeons appeared to come in two kinds. The first was a simple explore, kill, and loot. The terrain remained consistent throughout, and the monsters sought the pioneers.
The other dungeon placed pioneers on a foreign world, like a distant call for help. Some ended up in the middle of a war between two factions, others in a town chasing assassins.
The experience varied, and it was impossible to tell which dungeon was what until purchasing an upgrade. After the initial Torian invasion, other Dos races visited Earth in return through their own dungeons, facing off against the volcanic rock monsters. None pushed back the monstrosities, and their pioneers stopped coming through, realising that the dungeon was a lost cause and abandoning it.
Bitter memories arose as Dustin remembered his time on Ysoria. Like Earth, dungeons also spawned on Ysoria, only they featured humanity as the invaders. Foreign pioneers he had once fought alongside returned, intent on squishing whatever Dos deemed as an enemy.
Dustin spat on the grass in his backyard and swung his quarterstaff in a diagonal line from his top right down. The bottom of the staff jutted out, interrupting the blow as Dustin continued forward, striking the imaginary target in front of him with successive hits. The staff danced across his fingers, coming to a halt when it ‘struck’ the side of the head after a wide sweep.
Applause drew his attention as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Jean leant against the sliding door frame, a glass of cold water between her feet as she clapped.
“Looking good Dustin!”
She picked up the glass and handed it to him, taking the quarterstaff from him and laying it down on the outdoor table. Dustin sunk the whole glass and sighed as the cold relief washed over him.
“Thanks.”
His hand grasped the wooden staff again, a slight burning pain from the calluses on his palm flaring up.
“Dustin!”
A voice shouted from the front of the house, followed by the sound of a car horn. Dustin looked at the cheap watch on his hand and swore, forgetting what time it was. He wrapped the quarterstaff up in a dry cloth and put it inside, waving his mother goodbye as he jumped into Ben’s car that sat next to the curb.
It was an older Alfa Romeo, something Ben had fixed up in his spare time. The leather interior stuck to Dustin’s skin as he buckled in. The car shook as the engine roared to life, taking them off down the road.
Despite Dustin’s rigid schedule, he still planned time to hang out with his friends, involving the club Ben had forced him into at first but was growing to love.
Ultimate Frisbee.
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Dustin put the finishing touches on his makeshift status screen before rehearsing the plan of entry into the dungeon. The next time he would interact with attributes would be if the Dos shop came into existence.
Intelligence
18
Strength
12
Agility
13
Wisdom
14
Charisma
11
Constitution
13
With ten being the average human, Dustin could admit he was above average in all the fields now.
He had a bag packed with all the essentials, meeting the criteria of survival, and avoiding suspicion. He had three baseball bats, along with his baseball attire. Another bag contained his padded armour, and his own bow and arrows.
After carrying the bags around campus plenty of times before, it was a regular sight to see Dustin with them.
The Dos shop opening day would occur a week from tomorrow, giving Dustin eight days to complete his plans. A screenwriting class was in the classroom at the moment it happened, giving Dustin some options in his excuse.
The best-case scenario was being in the room when the change occurred, forcing his team to teleport with him.
The team Dustin had selected were members from the clubs he frequented. Ben, his best friend, was the first member, showing some skill in archery and working hard at using a sword.
Markus was a half-swede from Dustin’s baseball club, a heavy hitter who held the record for total home-runs.
Jennifer was one of the few female friends Dustin had made, and one of the fellow archery club members he complimented.
Kantaro was a member of the baseball team and played Ultimate Frisbee. He was short, but the most muscular Japanese person Dustin had ever seen.
The day that the dungeon opened was a Thursday, the major club day for Dustin’s university, solving a major headache he would have had otherwise.
Although Dustin felt bad about it, he nurtured a relationship between Markus and one girl who would be in the classroom, giving him a good excuse to get in. The rest of them would follow, entering before Dos opened.
Dustin was nervous as he woke up in the morning. He felt sickened at himself for almost wishing it opened, saving his sanity from the horrific memories that bombarded him. He didn’t know what to do if it didn’t happen.
Markus and Dustin led the way to the classroom as Ben, Kantaro, and Jennifer followed behind. They reached the classroom that would change the world at eleven in the morning, close to the class finish time.
The lecturer was finishing up as students packed their bags, Markus’ new girlfriend Katie catching their eyes. She beckoned them in, an awkward shuffle through the door frame with all the thick bags.
Dustin glanced one final time to his watch, feeling each second draw on for what felt like an eternity until the second hand flicked over the number twelve.
Interface Initializing.
Dustin froze, a mixture of dread settling in from the familiar text that now floated in his vision. It looked almost like a glass pane hovering in front of their eyes, close to a holo screen, but Dustin knew it as Dos.
The class looked up in unison, alarmed at the floating window of text.
Transfer complete. Welcome to Dos.
As the shop window opened in front of him, the scenery also changed. The classroom faded away, causing the students to panic. Dustin watched as their surroundings melded to green, placing them on the edge of a forest.
Looking around, Dustin sighed in relief as his friends came with him, each sporting their own confused expressions.
Despite the open shop window, its colours faded to grey, and any selectable options became unavailable.
Once set up was complete, they could use the shop and accompanying features within the dungeons. For those inside a dungeon when the transfer to Dos occurred, they would find the features locked until they returned to Earth.
Without the experience and preparation Dustin set up, it could lead to death. Pioneers couldn’t buy weapons or armour from the shop, they had no access to skills, and it disabled the party function.
Dustin closed the shop out of instinct and felt a renewed vigour inside of him. He wasn’t crazy, and his memories had been correct. Although unsure of how or why Dustin had travelled fifteen years into the past, he wasn't going to waste the opportunity.
The rest of the class were dumbfounded as the changing scenery came to a halt, filling the world with light and colour. The group stood on a grassy hill, overlooking a forest filled with chirping birds and rustling leaves. Two students knelt down and ripped up a clump of grass, feeling the light moisture collected on it as it slipped through their fingers, tumbling to the ground.
Markus held his girlfriend tight and turned to look at Dustin who stood nearby.
“Did we just get abducted by aliens?”