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1.35 - Present Jessie - Day 69 : Not Nice

1.35 - Present Jessie - Day 69 : Not Nice

JESSIE : LEVEL 8

DAY 69 : E-DAY, FIRSTWEEK, CALYPSO, YEAR 1

INTERIOR 2 : NEW EYAM 1 : NOT NICE

So here I am. The longest I’ve stayed anywhere since the first time I died. When the other three left, I decided to just stay in a town until the next time they hit another one. Then I can run over there instead, and keep leveling up and out of this rut as soon as possible. Yeah, it’s one of my own making. So I shouldn’t complain. And yeah, I could say the word at any time and The Admins would jump all over themselves to pay me for the permission of letting them lift me out of it. So the amount of complaining I’m entitled to is even less than one might assume.

But any justification or lack thereof does absolutely nothing for the funk I’ve been in ever since that freaky skeleton-cyclops-thing glitched me to death. Which means that my favorite thing in the world right now, the combat system in conjunction with slicing monsters apart, is currently unusable. Not when being made unable to breathe automatically sets me back for literal days of XP Debt. As fast as I could potentially get to Level 9 by jumping into dungeons anyway, it just isn’t worth the risk.

So once we got here, I started doing quests in and around town. Hence the bad mood… It’s like what I’ve always assumed customer service must be like. Because as it turns out, there’s another, much more common word for someone who goes around offering quests left and right. An ‘idiot’. Or maybe ‘conman’. The result is nearly always the same either way. Some bullshit errand with what might as well be no reward, and just ends up being a huge waste of time.

Which is why I’m currently on a break, letting off some steam by repeatedly hunting down a real piece of shit named Warren. Warren apparently likes to fuck with low-levelers for fun. According to the rumors, he got to Level 11 within Outset itself. It apparently took literal years of grinding dungeons meant for people well below his level. Then he spent even more years just running around using an overpowered Epic Skill on Heroes who were already fighting each other.

Why would Warren do such a thing? For shits and giggles, of course. Thankfully, he pissed off enough people that some bored Wandering Maxlevels heard about it. As you apparently don’t get to Level 64 without learning to hate that particular brand of asshole, they took no small pleasure in finding the guy and giving him an all-expenses-paid trip right the fuck out of there.

Finally outside his favored selection of victims, Warren had to either earn the right to ascend to get back into his playpen, or, much more likely, simply stay out. He predictably chose the latter option. He has no money. He has no Items, no Equipment… Nothing to lose. But he has that Skill. And he uses it on everyone he finds outside of towns. He’s long since been banned from all of those in The Interior. But as it turns out, the areas directly around the Outset border tend to be primarily populated by people not yet even at its level cap of Eight.

So here he is. Still pulling that same shit, only now simply skirting along the outside of the Outset Level Barrier. Because, as I immediately recognized, Warren is a troll. That’s fun for him.

Not that it’s not fun for me too. But trolling random bystanders doesn’t sit right anymore. It used to. I loved that shit when I was a kid. But then I was victimized that exact way. It kinda left a sour taste in my mouth for trolling randoms. But trolling trolls? That is entirely my shit. The double-negative of victimizing victimizers does what double-negatives do, turning it all into a positive. I’ve been told two wrongs don’t make a right. But then explain math.

Anyway, that’s where I am now. In the troll’s trolling grounds, trolling the shit out of him by any means necessary. The most effective method I’ve landed on is putting something into practice that I stumbled onto over a month ago. The setup and timing were a bit too impractical before the whole Time Breathing thing. But now though? Child's play.

The only problem left is the potential, and downright inevitability to give myself away by literally calling out everything I’m about to do before I do it. I think I figured out a way around that too. Through trial and error on hoards of falling tree leaves, I discovered that the Named Attack Skill has a bit of a quirk to it. Quite a few quirks, actually. But one in particular that I’m more than happy to take advantage of. That being the names for the attacks themselves. As it turns out, they don’t have to be unique.

With mounting anticipation, I’ve been following the guy for the past hour.

He spotted me right away, of course. He spots me every time I try to catch up to him. His only mistake is in assuming that matters. In thinking he can still pull it off, even with me tailing him. Thinking he has any hope at all in matching my speed. Which is why he smirks the instant he spots an unsuspecting Level 6 girl heading into a dungeon. As soon as he does, the Level 11 Asshole speeds in after her.

[ TARGET LOST : WARREN ]

Smirking even wider, my Level 8 ass speeds in after said Asshole, reveling in the fact that between my breathing and minmaxed Speed STAT, he has virtually no chance of losing me. Which is why my smirk disappears the instant I enter the same dungeon after them, only to stare in befuddlement at the empty room.

I… Lost him? The moment I realize the impossible had, indeed, happened, I panic. And the moment I panic, I stop breathing. Only then do I calm down, if not in body, at least in mind. I have to catch him. That Level 6 girl will not be victimized today.

Warren can’t win. Not right in front of me. Not again.

Five paths to choose from. Six if you include the dungeon entrance. Which I don’t. So it’s one to win, and four to lose. Even with one as a reroll, I’m not comfortable leaving this up to a D6. So how do I cheat?

Maybe there’s a scrap of clothing left behind? Somewhere around whichever path they chose? In the same paused moment as the rest of my self-righteous internal monologue, I realize how stupid that is. Who’s so bad at going through open hallways that they rip their clothes on them?

Who’s… So stupid… Me! I’m exactly so stupid! I was just targeting him. Even if I can’t still see the jerk, I came in right behind him. So I should still be within range to…

[ HERO TARGETED: WARREN ]

With palpable relief, my smile reappears. As soon as I start smiling, I also start breathing. But my belatedly racing heart doesn’t even catch up to my head before-

[ TARGET LOST : WARREN ]

But that’s okay. His silhouette is gone now. But I still saw where it went. Wide grin entirely back, I book it down the open corridor, only snagging and losing some of my black cape on a couple sharper outcroppings before-

[ HERO TARGETED: WARREN ]

Grin entirely back now, I speed up.

The Level 6 girl went in prepared this time. I watched her get ready for nearly as long as Warren did. He saw me doing that, of course. But she didn’t see either of us spying on her psyching herself up. That’s how I know she’s full-up on both MP and SP this go-around, with potions to spare. And the Skill she’d grinded levels to buy the whole last week. I don’t know what Skill that is since she never actually said the name out loud. But I know she’s ready for her long-awaited revenge on the Monsters of this place.

But Warren is ready too. Just as she spots the Monsters off at the distant end of the corridor, Warren lunges at her, leaving an incandescent purple trail in his wake, outstretched fist blazing with that same light.

Cape now torn to thin, flowing strips from a frantic, maniacal, give-no-shits run, I jump for the same spot as air slowly seethes through my bared, smiling teeth. “NOPE!!!”

[ COMMON ACTION: IAI QUICKDRAW ]

[ UNCOMMON ACTION: COUNTER SHEATHE ]

[ RARE TOGGLE ON: EXTEND-O-SWORD ]

Over several subjective minutes, my rapidly growing, unsheathing sword is placed with surgical precision into the now scant few inches of space between Level 11 fist and Level 6 head.

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When I reappear behind him, I have just enough objective time to register his confusion at all of his momentum vanishing. Then I use what I immediately recognize as way more cathartic force than necessary to SLAM the blade home.

Warren’s head explodes with the brightest purple yet. I can tell there’s a red number in there as well. But I can’t make it out over the purple, beyond it being four digits long.

[ DEFENDER REPARATION GAINED: $1 USD ]

Huh… I guess he did have a couple bucks after all.

For her part, the girl is super, super thankful. I even get a friend request out of it. My first real one. From what is basically a random passerby who truly wants nothing more from me beyond what I’ve already done.

I try not to cry as I run back out of the dungeon the same way I came in, as fast as I can while still making the speed look casual. I still can’t risk fucking with dungeon monsters, after all. Even if I do wish the girl all the success in the world.

It doesn’t work. The casualness, that is. But as the minutes pass and my Friends List stays filled, I slowly become more and more sure. It didn’t matter that I ran. Or how. We’re friends now. No matter how awkward that definitely looked.

In a vastly better mood, I take a victorious walk back to New Eyam. It’s a little town on the edge of the border between Outset and Interior that I’ve been operating out of ever since I realized that not being able to breathe now equals technically instant death. Why couldn’t I have known that when I had Skill Points to spare? But no… I just had to buy all those nice-to-have comfort Skills. I mean sure, they make life easier. But they could’ve waited… It definitely wasn’t worth opening myself up to instakills just for a little extra day-to-day convenience.

With a sigh, I shake myself clear of the self-admonishment. Not like it’s a new thought or anything. I’ve been kicking myself about that on a nearly constant basis for the past week and a half. But it’s almost over. Another few days of slumming it with fetch quests, and I’ll hit Level 9. Then I can buy a Skill or two to negate that cycloptic skeleton’s bullshit, run the couple hours or so back to the hole it can’t crawl out of, and smash its stupid, smug screachy-ass skull in. I’ll get my own revenge just like my new friend is doing now.

Then I can run to catch up with the rest of my team and resume our little road trip.

The other three didn’t want to wait around while I plotted petty revenge against a mindless Dungeon Monster. One who, despite looking like a one-eyed version of Ainz, apparently isn’t actually sentient and can’t understand the concept of revenge. But isn’t it though? I can’t get it out of my head. It really seemed like that skeletal jerk had metaphorically more going on in its literally empty skull.

I don’t hold it against my friends for moving on. They all took the thing out together easily enough a few minutes after I died to it. Not like they have anything to prove. Unlike me…

So it’s with a song in my heart from a new friend and a scowl on my face from an old thought, that I approach the gates of New Eyam.

Before I can enter, an old mustachioed blue-skinned man waves me down. “Young miss!” His voice is more falsetto than I would’ve expected.

But I’m in a good enough mood that I can’t be bothered by such things just now. So I veer off my path to see what he wants. In short order, I walk up to him with a much warmer smile than I didn’t quite show Warren. “Yes? Need help with something?”

The old man seems taken aback at the sudden offer of help from nothing more than a waved greeting. “Oh my… Well, I do seem to have found myself in a bit of a pickle.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “It looks like more than ‘a bit of a pickle’ from how your whole body is shaking like that.”

He winces in clear guilt at being called out. “I…” He sighs. “I was all in a panic about it. But then, I saw you strolling on by, all young and full of energy that these old bones can’t quite get up to anymore. And I just thought maybe you could-”

I wave off the rest of his sales pitch, wanting to get straight to the point. I was just about to look for a quest or two, so this is perfect. “Okay, yeah. What do you need?”

[ NEW SIDE QUEST: PESKY SPLODERS — SUCCESS: CLEAR AND CLEAN BASEMENT OF EXPLODING RATS — FAILURE: AN EXPLODED RAT’S CORPSE IS LEFT TO FESTER FOR MORE THAN 1 MINUTE WITHOUT BEING TOUCHED BY A CLEANING IMPLEMENT - 64 XP DEBT — XP: 256 — REWARD: 1 RARE RAT POISON — DIFFICULTY: HARD ]

As soon as I get the prompt, the woman rips off her fake mustache and runs away cackling. “BETTER HURRY!!! BAHAHAHAHAHAhaaa!”

My face twitchs as the lady runs. Her again… And again with the same bullshit. She’s tricked me into cleaning her fucking basement for chump change how many times now?

No. Not this time. Well, yes this time. I’m in no position to effectively throw away over 250 XP when I’m less than 1,000 short of Level 9. And yet, I can’t help thinking of a certain troll… I gotta at least kick her ass a little.

[ CITIZEN TARGETED: 70145098 ]

[ RARE WEAPON EQUIPPED: SLIZARDIC KATANA - 69 PHY - 34 MAG ]

Weapon in hand, I flip it over, catch it in a reverse-grip, crane my arm back, and hurl it just next to the fleeing bitch’s head. I stumble a bit from the throw, but catch myself just in time for it to be right on top of her. “Back.”

[ UNCOMMON ACTION: SPACIAL ANCHOR - WEAPON ]

Teleporting right next to the woman, I waste no time in giving her a little love tap in retribution. “BURST!!!”

[ COMMON ACTION: AURA BURST — INTENSITY: 123% ]

The resulting shockwave throws the briefly terrified old woman away from me the moment I teleport to the sword. As I planned, the attack doesn’t do any real damage. Just sends her across the town’s boundary line. The sanctity of that plan lasts right up until she slams bodily into the side of a house. This, in contrast, does a lot of damage. Especially when house and woman both explode. I… may have forgotten which house was hers. I also may have forgotten that the only reason for Aura Burst’s initial lack of damage is that it does massive damage to, and by, anything the resulting projectile hits.

The far more limp, far less blue, far more skeletal form that used to be an old NPC woman crumples to the ground. She lands whole, but settles into more than one piece, just inside of a house that does likewise.

[ QUEST FAILED: PESKY SPLODERS — FAILURE: 64 XP DEBT ]

[ XP DEBT: 64+4,096=4,160 ]

[ UNCOMMON ATTACKER PENALTY LOST: KATANA OF THE DADDY-LONGLYCANTHROPE ]

Unlike the death, I expected the first prompt. But my eyes widen even more than they already are as I see the second. Oh my god… Fuck, fuck, fuck that’s so much XP Debt. It practically negates everything I’ve done this whole week. I mean I still have all the progress, and I’m still less than 2,000 XP from Level 9, so it’s not like I’m back to square one, but…

That’s when I pale at the third prompt. And… My first sword is gone now too? All that effort to get it… All the memories… Sure, it only took a bit over a day. But still, it’s… Then I imagine a repeat of my last rat-basement quest. Time unpauses as I shiver. Not exactly worth it… More of a silver lining sort of thing. Where the fuck did that NPC keep getting all those rats?

And then I see the bystanders. I just killed her out in the open, after all. Not that that’s a new occurrence.

But everyone else’s reactions? That’s new. The accusatory glares crash over me. The NPC isn’t popular. That much has been made clear time and time again. I’m far from the only one she’s pulled this on. But what meets my gaze flies in the face of that impression.

Soon enough, more people come this way. Not surprising since that wasn’t one of those infamous quiet explosions. At first, what seems like everyone else in the county just wanders over to investigate the noise. Are there just things as counties here? But I can’t even distract myself from it. Not when all of them, NPC, Hero, everyone, is staring me down with what can only be interpreted as complete, and utter disdain.

I almost run out of breath trying to reckon with it. What should I say to them? What can I say? Why the reaction? This is Heaven, right? We’re immortal. Right? I just… Panic. I can’t calm myself down. It doesn’t matter how long I hold my breath. Their frozen contempt burrows deep down into me. It doesn’t even matter that to them, less than a minute has passed. For me, it’s been more like an hour by now. That doesn’t make it better.

What feels like an eternity later, I land on doing the only three things I’ve been able to think of this whole subjective time.

First, I switch helms to one not layered with a headband.

[ COMMON HELMET UNEQUIPPED: SLIZARDIC HELM ]

[ COMMON HELMET EQUIPPED: SLIZARDIC HELM ]

Second, I start breathing again.

Third, I run away. All the away. I don’t quite know why. I’m usually the last one to shy away from someone judging me. But I’m acting more on instinct than anything now. All I know is where I’m going. In the direction of the three-pronged, three-colored arrow always spinning around on the edge of my minimap. To wherever Rachel, Mich, and Ross have spent the past week and a half getting to. To the only people I know who don’t hate me right now. Well… I mean there’s Ross. But the other two? They like me, I think… At this point, I’m starting to doubt even that.

So I run. I’m not quite sure how far. But my Speed is quite a long way from where it was at Level Two. And it takes quite a lot longer than I did to reach the dungeon back then. All to get the katana I just lost. All to get away from the judging eyes. It has to be hundreds of miles. Thousands? That can’t be right… Let’s count them.

As I sprint for my life from a total lack of pursuers, I grasp desperately at anything at all to distract myself from the memory. Those looks they were giving me. Detested… Anything at all not to think about it. Anything at all to distract me from the feeling in my gut. The feeling that I deserve it. The feeling that their judgment is valid. I don’t understand why I feel that way. But I understand the feeling. And it only gets worse when I notice my Friend’s List. And the name now missing from it.