Chapter Twelve: Cheat Code

“You useless, incompetent, sack of shit! Give me one reason I shouldn’t end you right now.”

Willis was lying on his back in the mud, where he had unceremoniously landed after being struck.

He groaned as the large wound on his stomach opened up, blood already seeping through the bandages. He hadn’t had enough time to get his injuries properly healed before he was sent out with the search parties. Now that the search was put on hold due to the rain, he had to face the wrath of the leader.

“Explain to me again how this happened. How, despite all the resources you requested for the ambush, half the team survived the alcini stampede? How, even after all your animals were taken out, they managed to miraculously get more pack animals out here in the middle of the forest? How, despite poisoning the entire team, four measly mercenaries were able to wipe out the entire forward strike team? And yet you managed to escape with just a tiny scratch?”

A large man loomed over Willis. Unlike the rest of the men gathered around, he was not disguised as a bandit. He didn’t even wear a cloak to protect him from the rain. His simple vest was open, allowing the large scars covering his torso to be clearly seen.

“Then there is the matter of the cargo. You say that they procured three pack animals. That they had no other means of carrying the cargo. But here we are. There are the animals, but where is the cargo? Where are the supplies? Where are the blight-cursed mercenaries? Not a scrap of trash left behind. Only the bodies of my men. And you. Tell me again, Willis,” the man spat his name like it was rat feces.

“How is it that you are here, but my cargo is gone? You are here, but my men are dead? Even the mercs you said were slain are gone, but here you are.”

The man bent down with his knee pressing into the wound on Willis’s chest, eliciting a loud groan. His face was so close that his eyes were visible behind the mask he wore covering his face.

Willis couldn’t even breathe, and the rain was pouring onto his face and filling his throat. Still, the man did not relent. The crimson red mask that he wore hid his expression from view as he held the injured man to the ground. Soon, Willis started to convulse as lack of oxygen set in.

Finally, just as the movements from the body started to weaken, the large man stood up, allowing Willis to roll onto his side and cough up the water that had filled his lungs.

“Reicharo.” He called out.

Immediately, there was another man standing before him. This man was dressed like the other bandits, but was quite tall and had a rigid discipline to his movements. He bowed his head toward the leader.

“Take this piece of guereza shit and see what else you can squeeze from his pitiful brain. Then, take him and three of your best men and find that bubal ranch. There must be some way that they managed to move all the cargo. Maybe they had some help. As for the rest of the men, have them search nearby for any place where the goods could have been stashed. It must be here somewhere. Find it, and take care of anyone who knows anything about it.”

The tall man bowed his head again without a word, then grabbed Willis by the wrist and dragged him through the mud toward a nearby tent.

Following the leader’s orders, the men stayed near the campsite and searched through the night, looking for any signs of a stash that could contain the cargo that they were looking for. It was demoralizing to have to scavenge through the dark forest while the rain continued pouring. After having lost many of their comrades earlier in the day under such strange circumstances, many of the men feared for their own safety and may have even questioned the current plan, but none dared utter a single word of dissatisfaction.

They were all still close enough to hear the screams of the man the lieutenant had taken into the tent for questioning, that continued through the night, screams so disturbing that no animals came anywhere near the area, despite there not even being a warding stone set.

The leader remained in the center of the camp, standing by where the fire once burned. The bodies of his fallen men were lined up on one side of the clearing as their blood disappeared into the mud.

Nothing else remained, not even the mercenary’s kitchen waste. These damned mercenaries had cleaned up every trace of their presence before leaving. It didn’t make any sense. Why would they waste time, while they still had the cargo? The leader knew that he was missing something. Whoever, or whatever was responsible, must have been incredibly powerful. Far more powerful than the band of has-been mercs that Willis had reported.

There was a dull reflection of something half buried in the dirt by the fire. Reaching down, he picked it up, brushing off the dirt that coated it.

It was a simple copper coin. Possibly something dropped by one of the men who had fallen in the raid. Whoever had cleaned up the camp had managed to collect the drops left behind by the raiders as though they were nothing but mindless beasts.

Anger surged through his body as his fist crushed the coin in his palm. Sparks escaped his clenched fist as he destroyed it with nothing more than his wrath. He would find these vermin and crush them for causing him this much trouble.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

----------------------------------------

Rook was amazed by the various tools that he found in the mercenary’s gear. A coin-powered lantern that repelled insects was something he couldn’t even dream about while he lived in the stables.

As he sat in the improvised shelter, he had started to go through the supplies and gear that he now had access to. He had a long journey ahead, and he needed to find ways to survive the forest.

Starting with the weapons, he had sorted through various knives, axes, and spears. As expected, he didn’t think he could use most of them. He did find a large knife with a sheath that he could tie to his belt. It was similar to one he had used on the ranch when he needed to repair the fences, so at least he felt confident that he wouldn’t hurt himself using it.

There was also a wide array of magical tools, though he wasn’t sure how he would use them. An advantage of magic tools is that they work instinctively. Unlike regular items, when you activate a coin-powered magic tool, a person would typically gain some insight into what the tool is for and how it functions.

When he picked up the warding stone and activated it, he was suddenly aware of certain aspects of it, even though he had never had it completely explained to him before. He knew that the protected range could vary depending on the environment, but it would typically be effective for anything within eyesight. It would create a space where any animal between the size of a mouse and a wolf would feel irritation and discomfort. Even small children would feel the effects. It also needed to stay stationary in order to be effective. Finally, it used a coin to power the field, and the consumption rate was surprisingly high. A low-ranked coin would only last for three days of constant use.

Other than the lantern, the only other magic tool that Rook found immediately useful was a small bowl. It was lighter than stone, but stronger than wood. He thought it might be made of bone, but it was large and perfectly round, so it was unlikely to be made from an animal. There was a small recess in the bottom to insert a coin, and once he did, he was both shocked and elated. This bowl could create clean water through magic.

There were a number of water bottles in his soul space now, but after being poisoned by Willis, Rook was hesitant to trust the contents of any bottle. Still, he had risked it and, luckily, felt no ill effects from the water he had drunk from one of the bottles he had pulled from the soul space. The water bowl, however, appeared to be a reliable, if expensive, way to refill the bottles, which he quickly did.

He actually now had a respectable amount of food. It was all traveling rations, though, such as hard rolls, dried meat and fruits, and some boiled and preserved eggs. The mercenary’s gear included pots, pans, and even a kettle, along with glass bottles full of oil, a small container of salt, and several bags of millet. He had enough water and food for weeks, although most of it was dried food.

He was already starting to develop a taste for the dried meat. At first, it was strange and rather difficult to chew, but the saltiness was addictive, and he felt that even small amounts gave him more satisfaction than porridge and milk.

Rook rested in his personal fortress. Thanks to the mercenary leader, Presia, He now had a bedroll that was far more comfortable than the insect infested hay he was used to. He chewed on a piece of dried meat while listening to the rain hit the rocks surrounding his shelter. Every so often, he would use the window tied into the objects that he had placed outside the alcove, to see what the surrounding area was like.

He still had not seen any search parties looking for him. The nearby animals were kept away by the warding stone as well. He finally felt safe enough to sleep, and for the first time since leaving the ranch, Rook closed his eyes and let the fatigue take over.

He only slept a few hours, but he awoke as usual, before the sun came up. Inside the makeshift cave, he couldn’t immediately tell if the sun was up yet, but quickly confirmed that it was still dark through the floating windows.

The rain had stopped finally, and he needed to decide whether to start moving again, or rest here longer. The cave felt like a safe location, but he felt like it was better to try to exit the forest as soon as possible. Now, he had a better understanding of the resources available to him, but he also knew that while currently plentiful, he had no way to replace the food that he ate, and sooner or later, he would need to find a way to restock his supplies.

His supply of coins was another concern. His daily coin would do little to maintain his supply if he continued to rely on the magic tools. Not only that, but he also now recognized the value of letting Oberon use them to level up and create new skills.

“How many coins do we have left?” He asked the voice.

［Here, let me show you. I just put this together. I was working on it all night. It is awesome! Try thinking Show Status］

As soon as he mentally recited the words, a new floating, glowing, window appeared in the air in front of him.

STATUS

NAME: ROOK

CURRENT STATUS: HEALTHY

CURRENT COINS: 492

STATS:

* 💪 STR: 3

* 🏃 AGI: 4

* ❤️ VIT: 3

* ✨ SPT: 2

HEALTH (HP): 76 / 100%

MAGIC (MP): 100 / 100%

STAMINA (SP): 87 / 100%

Looking closely at the floating window, Rook tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

［You won’t be able to understand much now. Since you never learned how to read. There is a section that can calculate how many coins you have to work with. It’s a pretty impressive number to start with, After this morning’s coin is added, your total is-］

“Four hundred and… ninety-two?”

［That’s… right. How?…］

Oberon was certain of one thing. Rook was completely illiterate. No one had ever taught him how to read even a single character or even numbers. The only symbol that he could recognize was the sigil on his own hand.

That was certainly strange. Perhaps Rook was able to use the connection with Oberon to interpret the words and characters, but this was not the time to get bogged down by strange details with no way to get adequate answers.

Rook scrutinized the new window.

“What does all this mean?”

Well, to put it simply, you are the main character and are now able to see your own status. Thanks to me, you are well on your way to having the ultimate cheat code.