Congratulations! You have reached Level 2!
When leveling up, you gain a mathematical amount of Points in every Stat. Additionally, you gain 2 Augmentation Points to allocate where you see fit.
You have gained 2 Augmentation Points!
Oh, thank god.
I quickly X out the notifications. Leaning on the hilt of my Big Sword, which is still stabbed through Letterman’s face, I do a quick area scan to make sure I’ve got another two seconds to spare.
Despite that somehow there’s at least nine more new zombies, my party’s wrecking shit like it’s their fucking job. That, or like the zombies are all level one, and my party’s just reached level two; when the numbers are this low it doesn’t take much to spread the statistical gap. Just a guess though.
Either way, I got a couple more seconds to spare, even if my thoughts have wasted a couple already.
I open my Character Profile. I was going to add the two Augmentation Points to Strength. But…
Logan: 02
♋: Leonite
♈♉🛈: Barbarian Fighter
♎🛈: Fate Mage
Health: 99/121
Stamina: 77/92
ABILITY SCORES
Stats
Stat Score
Augments Made
Strength
25
+3
Dexterity
12
+1
Intelligence
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
18
+1
Wisdom
15
+1
Resiliency
30
+2
Constitution
12
+1
Charisma
22
+1
I see my Strength. From leveling up, I’m already strong enough. I check, unstabbing Letterman’s face, and holding the sword out straight. Mmmm. This feels right. I definitely meet the strength reqs now.
Maybe this is stupid. Maybe I should double down on Strength or Charisma. Maybe I should be considering future strength reqs. Maybe I should be overthinking my way to being smart.
But I’m not. Smart, that is.
I’m considering any Wisdom and Intelligence Reqs I might need on the day I inherit magic. It makes sense, in my head. I place one point to Wisdom(16), and the next point goes to Intelligence (19). 19…Dr. King is calling from the Tower. I ignore the correlates.
Finished.
I look around. Everyone in my party has killed any zombies within immediate range on the street. They’re all standing around me, with a look in their eyes that suggests they’re doing what I just finished—pursuing the dopamine fix from metric-based character development. They’re done quickly.
Down the street, more zombies come into view.
I still haven’t become one of them, and would like to experience more of life in the apocalypse prior to asking someone to get rid of the pseudo party’s (un)dead weight. “I don’t wanna spend all night just fighting with the locals if it’s all right by you guys,” I say. “Let’s start heading toward the Magic of the Moon Quest.”
I turn around a bit to get my bearings, see the mountain to my east, and point to the main street that 2160 east leads into. “If we take Bingham Boulevard east, we could probably get to the Quest Location within three to four hours on foot, maybe five.”
“Depending on traffic,” Craig says.
A pain goes up my ankle. I can’t keep this to myself, even if I got some killing left in me. I say, “For you maybe,” and pull up my jeans to reveal the wound.
Jake and Tabi are watching.
Mando is sniffing it, as is Boon.
“Afraid I can’t join you guys much longer.”
“Thank the gods,” Tabi says.
Craig nudges her. “Be nice. You gonna kill yourself or what then.” He sounds somber but there’s this hint of something that feels off…
Jake sniffles. “Take my knife dude.” He wipes his eyes. It’s almost touching. He somberly staggers through the thin blanket of snow, slips once on some black ice, and makes the ceremony awkward for all of us, because this is going on way too…he hands me the knife. “You were a good dude. Make it quick on yourself, you don’t deserve to suffer and shit, y’know?”
I nod. “Take care of Boon…and maybe Mando?” I turn to the Pet. “Do you die if I do?”
Mando must kind of understand. He shakes his head.
To Jake, I say, “Yeah, take care of him too.”
I place the night at my throat. I’m no expert. But I’m pretty sure this will work well enough.
Craig is laughing so hard that it distracts me, even from the cold steel already drawing blood.
“Stop,” he says, “Just…stop.”
Tabi joins in. “You’re so stupid. Scramblers aren’t a disease, they’re just humans that couldn’t evolve.”
“Yeah…” I say, knife still at my throat, “...a disease.”
“Well, yes. But what I mean…”
“She means that Scramblers don’t turn you into Scramblers by biting you. It’s not part of the Simulation.”
Variants of “Huh?” leave Jake’s mouth as well as mine.
“Neither of you read that I take it,” says Tabi. “Not surprised. Just, as much as I wanna cope with the trauma of watching a moron slit their own throat, it’s not necessary. You’ll be just fine.”
“Oh.” I slowly lower the blade. Gingerly hand it back to Jake. “Thanks for offering.”
“Ummm, anytime I guess?”
I hate awkward silences.
Craig speaks as if he didn’t just nearly let me kill myself and suggests we get moving toward the quest point. Reluctantly, we all agree.