“So… who’s left? Kors, Renee, and Lewis?” Vivian said, licking the peanut butter off his fingers.
“Seriously, are we talking about murder right after we have some sandwiches?” Noah asked, stuffing the last bites of his into his mouth.
“I mean… when else?” Vivian said, shrugging.
Noah glanced down. “I still think we shouldn’t kill them.”
“What? If we don’t, they’re more likely to report Jane dead. If you don’t want to get charged with accessory to murder, I mean…” Vivian said, shrugging.
“Are you threatening me?” Noah asked, backing away a step.
“Not really. I’m an NPC, so, you know, whatever. Put the blame on me. They can’t take me to court,” Vivian proclaimed.
“I guess,” Noah allowed. Still nervous, he fiddled with his hands, unable to look Vivian in the eye.
Ignoring Noah, Vivian poked his menus. His eyes widened. “Oh, neat. Levels! What should I put my points into?”
“Are they [Bloodied]?” Noah asked warily.
“Don’t be stupid. Only clothes and armor, or in other words, physically equipped items, count as [Bloodied]. Weapons and usable items don’t get [Bloodied], let alone stat points,” Vivian said. He tapped at the air, calling up his status screen.
Name: Vivian | Age: 21 | Sex: M | Level: 7 | Level Up +3!
Role: [Gardener] [NPC]
[Status]
HP: 10/10
SP: 5/5
STR: 10
MAG: 1
SKL: 7
SPD: 9
MDEF: 5
DEF: 5
[Skills]
[Gardener Tool Proficiency] [LOCKED] Lvl 1
[Rake] Lvl 1
[Tiptoe Through the Tulips] Lvl 1
[Trim] Lvl 2
[Compost] Lvl 1
[No More Human Meat]
“I can’t believe Vivian is a murderer,” Noah muttered.
“It’s just a little Player Killing. Everyone does it. Besides, we don’t know if I am ‘the’ Vivian,” Vivian said, rolling his eyes. He turned back to his menu. “You know what? I’m going to put one point into speed. Ten in strength, ten in speed. Nice and even. Hmm, as then, the last two… let’s just put strength and speed up to eleven.”
HP: 10/10
SP: 5/5
STR: 11
MAG: 1
SKL: 7
SPD: 11
MDEF: 5
DEF: 5
“Done?” Noah asked.
“Yep. You didn’t get any levels?” Vivian asked.
Noah backed away, horrified. He waved his hands. “No. I didn’t do anything! I didn’t touch her!”
“What a waste. Launch a spell, next time,” Vivian said, shaking his head. “You need to get some levels. Even if you only get hit EXP, it’s better than getting no EXP.”
“I’m not—accessory to murder is bad enough. I’m not becoming your accomplice!” Noah protested.
Vivian clicked his tongue. “You’d kill an NPC, but you won’t kill a human?”
“I haven’t killed NPCs, either! What are you accusing me of?” Noah asked, drawing back.
“You should. Easy EXP,” Vivian said.
“Seriously, dude, are you from the First Gener—well, I guess you would be, if you’re Vivian,” Noah muttered under his breath.
“What? Do people not kill NPCs anymore?” Vivian asked, curious. Not in my experience. Lots of NPC killing happens around me.
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“There’s guards and stuff. Guards that infinite-spawn and grow stronger and stronger until they’re over the level cap, and you can’t possibly beat them. It’s super dangerous. The Tower doesn’t like it,” Noah explained, shrugging.
“Well, where the hell were those guards when I was getting killed?” Vivian asked, taken aback. What am I, chopped liver?
“I don’t know,” Noah said, frowning. He looked at Vivian. “You don’t exactly act like an NPC, so maybe… they only come out if you’re a true NPC?”
“I got killed the most when I was the most an NPC!” Vivian complained, shaking his head.
Noah shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know killing NPCs isn’t a good idea, usually.”
Vivian stretched. He turned, looking out into the Garden. “I’m a Gardener, right?”
“Huh? Yeah,” Noah said.
“I should be able to grow things,” Vivian mused. He put a hand on his chin. I bet I have a whole skill tree related to growing plants that I haven’t even touched yet. If I can seriously garden… or at least, grow usable items, then I should load up on Ghost Roses, then take a quick detour to the Ruined Castle’s Royal Orchard Ruins to pick up some HP Herbs. With those growing, I can start farming my own HP and SP potions, and make a quick buck that way!
But when I move on to the next Floor, I’ll lose it all. I need somewhere to grow them. Somewhere portable…
“Er… yes?” Noah said. He frowned. “How the hell does your brain work? From murder straight to gardening?”
“You might not be aware of this, but I’m not just a psycho killer. I’m a hell of a gardener, too,” Vivian joked.
“I really… haven’t seen much of that part of you,” Noah admitted.
“To be fair, I haven’t done much gardening, so it’s on me,” Vivian agreed. He frowned. “I just need somewhere to grow stuff that I can take with me. A gardening box.”
“Like a flower box? You know, the kind that hangs out a window in movies about knights and shit?” Noah said, tipping his head.
“Yes, exactly. Any idea where I can get one of those?” Vivian asked.
Noah shook his head. “I live in the slums. I could get you a dime bag quicker than I could get you a flower box.”
“It’s a good thought, but—” Vivian stopped. He looked at Noah.
“What?” Noah asked, suddenly suspicious.
“A dime bag…” Vivian said.
“What the hell? Just say it. You’re acting weird,” Noah said.
“Cocaine is a plant,” Vivian said, his eyes widening and a smile spreading across his face. The money I could make…
Noah rolled his eyes. “It starts as a plant. Good luck growing something from that white powder shit.”
Vivian waved his hand. “We’ll save that thought for later. For now, let’s focus on Player-Killing.”
“You know what? Why don’t we go back to the growing-cocaine idea,” Noah said, nodding.
“We should assume they know Jane died. If we strike fast, we might be able to get one more before they all group up. Ideally… that’s Lewis.” Vivian nodded to himself. He dusted his hands off and took the final turn back to the clearing at the center of the Garden. Picking up the rake, he gestured for Noah to follow him. “You’re essential to taking down Lewis. Most Players that focus on DEF ignore MDEF for optimal min-maxing. I’ll be relying on you to whittle him down.”
“What if he also has MDEF?” Noah asked.
Vivian shrugged. “Then we figure out something else.” Like poison. He wiped a bit of poison off the rake and rubbed it on the clippers’ blade, replacing their poison.
“No, no, no, hold up. I don’t want to—I’m not a murderer,” Noah protested.
“I’ll strike the final blow. There’s nothing to worry about,” Vivian said, heading back out toward the Garden. At the clearing’s exit, he closed his eyes, extending his awareness through the garden. Dozens of red dots lit up in his vision, Lost Ones swarming the maze.
Hmm… that’s troublesome. Can’t I get any more information than red dots? Maybe… footsteps?
The ground suddenly trembled under him. Vivian jolted, startled. “Whoa!”
“What?” Noah asked.
“You don’t—Oh. It’s the skill.” Vivian nodded to himself and focused inward again, reaching his senses out. Where did I feel that trembling? Footsteps that heavy, it’s got to be the defensive player.
“Also, I’m not helping you kill anyone,” Noah declared.
“It’s your fault I’m killing players at all!” Vivian complained, shaking his head.
“And I’m telling you not to!” Noah argued.
“So what do you want us to do? Die to those high-level Players without fighting back?” Vivian asked.
Noah closed his mouth. He looked at the ground.
“Look. It’s not an ideal situation. I’ll be the first to admit that,” Vivian added under his breath, eyeing Noah up. A second later, he sighed and shook his head. “But I want to recruit a mage, and you’re looking pretty recruitable, and after all, Players are worth tons of EXP, so whatever. Let’s do it.”
“It’s not whatever, it’s—”
“If we don’t kill them, they will kill you,” Vivian said.
Noah’s hands trembled. He backed away.
Vivian rolled his eyes. Kids. “You seem like a nice kid, but there’s a limit to being nice. The Tower… you can try to enforce whatever laws you want, pretend like it’s a nice, fun place, but at the end of the day, it’s kill or be killed. Get to the higher levels, and you’ll learn that the hard way. If you want to be a Climber, you have to face it: you’re risking your life, and not just against monsters, but against Players. Against everyone and everything that breathes this godforsaken Tower air. If you want to survive this, and get home to your mother with that rose, you have to be willing to do what it takes to survive. In a word? Kill.”
“I know, but—”
“If you know, then get with the program. We’ve gotta be proactive here,” Vivian said, slapping Noah on the shoulder. “If we wait for them to come to us, we’re right fucked—”
Noah frowned. “What?”
Vivian pushed him back. He whirled, facing the entrance to the clearing. “Run.”