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Pneumaster
Chapter 51 - Stainproof III

Chapter 51 - Stainproof III

Color returned to Quintin's world, though the replacement wasn't much better. Still, by the good graces of fresher air and less dismal circumstances, relief was found to be more forthcoming. Earthen tones, befitting the underground complex of tunnels were no less mundane than before. But now, they sang the promise-song of a new lease—or at least a direction towards a better deal.

He was running free from the jailhouse for tens of minutes, until his excitement, and the adrenaline fell away to a low simmer. The tunnel he found himself in was seemingly official, being spacious enough to house two wagons in a side-by-side manner. Many smaller paths cut away to unknown places, fraught with both dubious perils, and ever more doubtful fortunes. Quintin's breathing grew steady once again as he took it all in.

"I'm out. Finally!" he exclaimed in good spirits.

Quintin couldn't be sure -outside what his Master had said- if the denizens of corruption would resign themselves to the Dungeon's confines. No, he was more sure than ever that they would come for him tirelessly, no matter how long it took. According to his Master, Bilal, the Dungeon was only a stopgap, one he hoped would hold strong in his absence.

Of all his immediate concerns, chiefest amongst them was about the people who might find this place, Sozzelrift. He hoped they would be sensible enough not to challenge the monsters contained within. Only death and a miserable end awaited those foolish enough to tempt Hedon and the motley creatures. For there were no riches, nor glory to be won down here any longer.

"Those who come to this point must already be resolved to meet their end. The only shame is they would die for nothing," Quintin murmured solemnly.

Now that he had more time to himself, and thus the time to think, he began to catalog what he had learned upon reawakening. The new [Titles] he received, words spoken by Hedon—that abomination, and even the fragments of understanding about the Dungeon Core he now bore.

[Corebearer] was pretty well understood by this point; Cores themselves were usually Dungeon-bound objects. Quintin was a prime example of an exception to this rule. [Walking Calamity], however, was a different case entirely. He would only understand the extent of its effect once he came into contact with others, but he had no good feelings about the inferences made via the description.

As grotesque as Hedon was, ultimately, he still had important things to say. For instance, the goblin told of his unconscious state, and how he was seemingly unaffected by Corruption. After digging around inside the [System], Quintin found out that the corruption was dragged into his [Core: Storage] and made into units. He made the connection that whenever he would get hungry, thirsty, or nearly full on capacity, [Mitochondrial Efficiency] broke down the Corruption into minuscule traces for sustenance. It's how he survived without food or water for what he assumed was at least a month.

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At the very least, this means anything inside my [Core: Storage] can be safely broken down at any time, he thought while looking it over.

[Core Storage]:

—○20/100 units

—○Unit: 5x [Intruder Wolf Claws] = 1 full unit.

20x [Corruption Mass] Grade: N/A

[Mitochondrial Efficiency] had turned it all into trace amounts of glucose, vitamins, and valuable minerals, then dematerialized all the unusable remains while he slept. Additionally, by way of trial and error, he also figured out how to dim and increase the intensity of light from his left eye, [The Opaline Core of Purity]. It seemed the items on Whorrl were controlled by the will of its wielder. In that respect, the Core was no different.

Most of the other things the Headbearer spoke on came from a place of common knowledge—yet still uncommon to a nonresident. With little to no context, it was anybody's guess what it all really meant. Before he left, the one thing he had to check for was the Headbearer's Book. It would prove useful for deciphering that cockroach's riddle.

Once I'm above ground, I need to find and meet up with Vissitri again. This time I'll have to confide in him, Quintin resolved.

By now, he had been walking on for a good chunk of time. [Sinisphere] was active the entire way, but he had yet to come across another lifeform. Things as they were, he wasn't about to complain; he had grown weary of this place, now wanting only to feel the wind and sunshine once again. However, before that could happen, he would first need to navigate this ancient pattern of ways.

Everything was unfamiliar to him. Though, on the bright side, he couldn't have picked a better place to begin. In particular, this tunnel was most likely used as an entry passage to and from Sozzelrift given its welcome size. It stood within reason, to a passable degree of error, that sooner or later the surface would reveal itself by following along.

"I have no active permissions with the [Opaline Core of Purity]. Master must have set it up that way for my own good." Quintin's metallic foot fell upon a sizable stone. The crunch broke him out of his thoughts with the realization he put too much force into his steps. More and more he felt his thoughts and actions were in disarray. He needed to tread carefully from now on, least his inexperience conjured something deadlier without.

Just up ahead, the tunnel steadily widened, opening up into what Quintin thought must once have been a staging area for those traveling towards Sozzelrift. The remnants of animal stalls and wagon garages, along with [Cobblerite] stone buildings, made up much of the sizable area. They were all centered off the main road that passed between them. The lack of activity now wasn't enough to dissuade him from imagining the busy, congested past of this place. Even now, the specters of trade and civilization remained hungry for every copper piece to be found.

Quintin took a copper coin from his [System: Inventory] and placed it flush in between a crack on the road. Maybe one day, the power and prestige he chased after would find him in between those long-forgotten places. Until then, he would pave his own path; stainproof along the way.