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The Craftsman of Essence
A New Lease on Life… Somewhere

A New Lease on Life… Somewhere

I could not move anything.

How could I... if every muscle I have in my body is slowly wasting away.

Full-body muscular atrophy, the doctors call my sickness. And my case is much more severe than normal.

Why? I never had any symptoms until I was 15 years old. But in just 3 short years, I lost more than 60 percent of my muscle mass. I cannot move anything. Not only that, my nervous system is damaged. Voluntary muscle control is shot. Best I can do are slight twitches in my fingers and toes.

The disease affects my entire body. Every muscle; from the arms and legs to the face and torso. And the worst part... my lungs and hearts are affected. Since both of them are just large muscles themselves. Even now I have difficulty breathing and my heart is on the verge of having a cardiac arrest.

My mind is still conscious. My body still feels. My senses are as sharp as any normal human being.

Yet my body is worthless. A tube to feed me since I can no longer chew or swallow. A respirator to pump air into my lungs since my lungs are weak and barely can take in air. And a direct suction to my anus since I can no longer control my bowel movements.

I am useless.

Trapped in this ward for 10 years has sapped of everything. Hopes, dreams, ambitions... everything. Only thing that I enjoy now are reading online novels and watch videos. Looking at those people who were taken somewhere and granted great power make me wish... that I was them. If only just to relieve my mother of suffering.

As for my father? Screw him. Only thing he's good for now is paying all my medical bills. He even divorced my mother and left us. And he even has the audacity to shack up with his secretary who he's been fucking for almost 15 years now.

If anyone's listening... please grant my wish. Take me away from this place... cure my sickness.

> My... oh, my... a supplicant.... It's been a long time since I hear such a fervent wish.

Who's that...

> You called ME here yet not know of ME? Oh, how....

>

> Oh, right... it has been a LONG time since I granted a wish. Millennia since... never mind.

>

> And you, my child... you are willing to pay for the price of your wish. I like that.

>

> Very well, since that is your wish.... It shall will be...

Wait, who are youUUUUUUUWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

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Huh... where am I?

Wait... what happened?

And what the hell is that awful smell?

And I realized my hand is almost touching a puddle of something vile and unidentifiably disgusting.

And I drew my hand back... wait what?

"How?" A raspy voice emanated from my throat. It was like I have never spoken with anyone for years. No... I really have never spoken with anyone of years now, five years to be exact. Since I lost my control of my vocal cords.

"Is it true? Did that... 'dream'... really happened?" It was like rough sandpaper grinding in my throat. But it was so glorious.

And then I realized I can move my body. My body that has never even moved an inch for almost 7 years now.

Fingers? Check. Hands? Check. Wrist? Check. Elbow? Check. Biceps? Check. Shoulders? Check.

Then I tested my face.

Jaw? Check. Tongue? Check. Cheeks? Check. Eyebrows, eyelids and my eye muscles? Check. And my neck which is somewhat painful from lying in this... stone floor? Check.

Then I tries to slowly sit up from my lying down position.

Back? Check. Waist? Check.

My heart beats steadily and my lungs breathe in air on its own. Check.

I slowly stood up. It's a bit shaky since I've been stuck on a bed for almost 8 years now.

Hips, thighs and legs? Check. Knees? Check. Feet and toes? Check.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

I feel... alive. Complete. Functional once more. I can move own body and do things on my own once more.

It feels glorious.

And then the foul scent once more assaulted my nostrils.

Eugh. Need to get out of here.

But where am I?

... Wait.

And then I remembered my conversation with... HIM.

I'm far away from home now, am I?

==================================================

Well at least I'm now in good health. I look like I was 15 again. White, pasty skin due being cooped up indoors, even in my childhood I was a shut-in. A perfectly normal 15-year-old body, nothing exceptional or wrong. I just look like what I was before I become sick.

And whoever that... BEING... was, at least HE never left me here... or brought me here... naked.

A white shirt, made of cotton. Black pants made of canvas cloth. Leather belt holding my pant in place. A plain grey jacket that reaches to the thighs, pockets lining the inside. Wool socks and sensible leather boots. And a... 'Union suit'.

All of them has a distinct... Victorian fashion and style to it. And the reason I know of this is because I've read of them.

Sue me... lying down bored out of your mind makes your thoughts wander about in strange and unpredictable ways. Like that time I did an in-depth research on the history of male underwear. That's why I know that this single-piece, full-body undergarment that has buttoned openings in the ass is called that, a 'Union suit'.

Wait... am I missing something? Just clothing? What a ripoff.

I might nee need to look around here for something.

Oh nice... a stick. About a meter and a half long, made of...

Wooden Stick (Scrap)

A stick made from maple. Roughly-hewn and heavily-used, it may only have a few swings on it.

Upgrade?

Wait.... what the...?

...Oh.

I AM in some kind of Isekai setting, am I?

==================================================

As it turns out, I really am in some kind of Isekai.

The prompt earlier is the manifestation of an aspect of my power.

Essence Manipulation.

The ability to use 'Essence' to improve an item. Increasing their levels, making them better and granting them special abilities.

For now, I can store a maximum of 10 'Essence Points'. Which when used, is replenished at midnight.

It's like the power is tailor-made for me.

When I watch videos of people playing games, my most favorite part is the crafting part. By themselves or with craftsmen in the game, they craft and upgrade their weapons, armor, tools and gear. It was so satisfying to me when I see them wielding the most powerful equipment in-game that has also been upgraded to the highest level.

And now, I can do it myself.

My power also has others aspects.

Pockets of the Scavenger. A special 'storage', maybe a dimensional pocket, that is only accessible to me. In it, I can store an infinite amount of materials. Cloths, metal, mechanical parts, chemicals, animal and plant matter... as long it's not finished products it can be stored here. For example: Empty bottles, yes. Bottles with chemicals, yes. Bottles with consumables, no.

Toolbox of the Craftsman. An extra-dimensional box that contains tools for my personal use. With it I can craft, repair and disassemble items anywhere. And also conduct construction, repair, maintenance, and demolition of facilities and buildings. For now it's a bit limited, since it only currently contains one tool inside. A Swiss army knife. Also, tools integrated into it can never be used as weapons anymore.

And last but not the least, Quickslot. Like in many games, the Quickslot ability allows to store some items in a special pocket dimension and then instantly access its contents with just a thought. For now I have 2 'slots' for weapons and 4 'slots' for consumables.

And I now have a vague idea on where we are.

I found a newspaper. It was dirty and smudged, but at least it was readable. And in English, too. And I at least got the year when and location where I am in now.

The year? 1872. The location? Londinium, Albion.

And that's why I'm wearing Victorian-era clothes. And why this road is dirty, pissed-on and paved with cobblestone, instead of cement or asphalt. And why there are lots of chimneys on top of these buildings, belching out black smoke into the air.

But why 'Londinium, Albion'? Shouldn't it be 'London, England', if my English trivia is up to par?

'Scratch'

What was that?

'SCRATCH'

Some... thing... emerged from the misty shadows engulfing one end of the road.

A creature of mist and shadow, its vague outline shrouded in a black fog that surrounds it.

And it looked at me... and snarled. Eyes of blood red, staring malevolently at me. His maw opening to show two row of mottled yellow to pus-green fangs, large and sharp enough to bite a person in half.

And the dashed towards me.

Nope... I'm out. So I booked it. My legs and thighs pumping for all their worth. My lungs gleefully gulping up vast amounts of air. My heart beating wildly, pushing blood throughout my entire body.

But I was losing... and he was gaining.

Even with my rejuvenated 15-year-old body, I'm still an unfit person. Video games will do that to a person.

Then I felt something. Like I crossed a threshold... or a boundary.

And the creature stopped, just beyond this 'boundary'. As if he's afraid of something of coming here.

His visage become more sinister. His pacing, frantic.

Then he spat at me, the the globs of sickly-spilling spittle landing short.

"What are you?" I stared at it, a creature of darkness just a few steps from me.

And it answered back.

"The who hunts in the shroud of darkness. And now... I hunt you. Since I have your scent... I always know where you are. When you sleep or eat, when you lust and rut... I will find you." The shadowy creature speaks like a tortured being. Wheezing and whining and like something drowned in a thick fluid.

"And I will devour you."

Shit... I just got here. And now I already have a nemesis. Fuck my life.

...What can I do? Just go away? Taunt it?

"They why not come here and fight me!"

"We are now at the boundaries between the Vranitch and Aragul lands. I hunt you... they hunt me... something hunts them. I am not that stupid to cross it and become hunted. I am a hunter."

"Run along now, little prey. Do not be ashamed... prey runs away from the predator. We will see each other again... soon." He utters it mockingly and slowly disappears back to the misty, black fog.

Fucking asshole.

Wait... did he say boundary? Did it means that I crossed some kind of border?

I felt like I crossed some kind and threshold earlier. Is that the 'boundary' that he speaks of?

And what doe he mean by the words 'Vranitch' and 'Aragul'. Is it a part of them, or one of them? Or is it something else and he doesn't want to get caught up in something more sinister...

...I just felt chills from that thought.

If a creature like him is way of those groups or something... then I should be more wary of my situation.

It's as if things just got way, way worse.

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