His hand automatically reached for his inhaler. An action that annoyed Jason but has become a reflex, it was the first thing his body did every time something surprised or scared him as it learned to expect the tightening of his chest that usually followed.
This time however, nothing came. No pressure on his chest. No tightening of his airways. And no fear of death that came with every attack.
Jason lay on his small bed, trying to remember what the voice said. “It said I was a fighter? No… not like that,” he shook his head. The word didn’t sound the same. It said he leveled up, gave him a class and a skill, “I am a [Fighter]!” he said loudly.
It was the same word but it sounded completely different to him.
And the skills. Two of them. Basic something and [Power Kick]. “Does that mean I can kick better?” He’ll google the word constitution after he wakes up.
Right now, what he wanted most of all was to sleep.
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“Dad, dad!” Jason called his father when he came home, “You won’t believe how good today went.”
He could hear his father on the other side, breathing into the earphone. He waited, hoping to hear praise, which didn’t seem will come.
“I’ll know in a few days but I think I made the team.”
“As what?” comes the question in a low whisper.
“A kicker.”
“Oh…” he mumbles disappointed.
“For now dad. Once I’m on the team I can show everyone how good I really am.”
“I’m sure you will, son,” he lied, he always calls me son when he lies, “How about we go visit Dr.Najeeb. We can tell him the good news and he can check up on you before you start your training.”
“He already cleared me before tryouts. What’s the point of going again?”
“The point is that I heard why you had to stop yesterday. I just want to be sure you’re not going to hurt yourself.”
There he goes Jason thought, treating me like he did mom. -Same condescending voice making me out to be weaker than I am. I kicked the ball farther than anyone today, farther than even some of the regular players. Sure, it was probably thanks to my new skill, whatever that means, but so what?-
“What if that happens in the middle of a game?” my father continues, “Do you plan on letting your teammates down?”
“Don’t you mean if I’m planning on letting you down? You don’t have to worry about Dr.Najeeb anymore.” Jason googled the meaning of constitution, and if he went by the results of his kicking today, the skill [Basic Constitution] meant that his body has become stronger. And if not stronger than at least healthier, ”I don’t think I’ll need to see a doctor ever again, dad. I feel 100%.”
There was a short pause between them. Both thinking, but Jason thought faster. Or less. It didn’t really matter. “I’ll get stronger from now on, dad. Soon I’ll be stronger than you.” -If I can figure out how to level up again, that is,- “I promise.” He will find a way.
“I hope that happens,” his father said and Jason feared he would call him son now. Or buddy. Being called buddy was the worst. “You're smart Jason. If you really believe you can do it I say go for it. But we’ll go to the doctor anyway. Do it for me, even if all he’ll do is confirm what you already know. K’ buddy?”
“Sure, dad. When?” he said in frustration.
“I set up an appointment in two days. I’ll grab you from school and we can go together. That way I can also have a quick chat with your coach.”
Jasons' heart sank when he heard the date of the appointment. His father must have set it up even before he heard the results of the tryouts. It never took less than three days. Usually, a week would pass from the time of setting the appointment and meeting his pulmonologist.
It angered him that his own father thought him so weak, but he stayed quiet. There was no point in arguing now, he’ll meet his doctor if only to get an explanation on how the skill affected his body.
“Okay. See ya later, dad.”
“Seeya later, kiddo,” his father hung up the phone, going back to his empty shop and the rare customers. Not many people cared about hunting anymore. There were enough for his father to make a living and pay the bills with, but most of their food came from his kills and a smartphone was a luxury Jason didn’t dream off.
Jason went to his bedroom, where he sat on a chair and stared at his inhaler. One that looked the same as the one he lost in the forest. Near the dead tree and the black rodent.
“It has to be that,” Jason wondered out loud, “Kicking that thing killed it and made me level up. Because I fought it I am now a [Fighter],” he nodded his head. “Just like a game.”
His excitement was growing. He had knives, crossbows and even guns in their cabin. They were his fathers, but Jason knew how to use them, even if he wasn’t any good. But did it matter? He managed to kill it with a kick. A weapon, of any sorts, will make things easier.
“I just need to protect myself from the teeth and it’ll be okay.” His brother's old football gear could work. He tried to remember where it was, the last time he saw it was more than a year ago.
“It must be in the shed. With all the other old stuff. Maybe I can find our old baseball bat there as well.”
Yes. No one ever went in the shed anymore. Not since mom died. There’ll be lots of useful stuff in it. Stuff that can be used to level up safely.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be fighting monsters,” he was jumping on his bed excitedly, “I’m going to defeat all of them and become really strong. So strong that they’ll have no choice but to keep me on the team,” my imagination takes over and I’m jumping over buildings and lifting buses. The realization hits me like a truck, “So strong, that I can beat Tim and his lackeys. I’ll be a superhero!”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
He jumps off the bed and hurries to the shed. It takes him some time to wriggle open the rusted lock and even longer to find everything he needs, and by the time he thinks he has everything he can use it’s already dark. So he hides everything in a bag behind the shed and runs back to the cabin before dad or his brother come back home with dinner.
“Tomorrow, I’ll skip school and go directly there,” he says while washing himself from the dust he picked up in the shed.
His eyes fall on the phone and he considers calling for his best friend to come with him but decides against it. It could be dangerous and he doesn't want to risk anyone else. Plus, he’s not even sure that it will actually work. This could all be just a dream.
“How else can I explain what’s happening?”
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Designing the first floor took less time than expected. I was done with the general layout in less than a day. Having a strong image meant I could move the earth in the direction I desired without pause. All that was left was filling out the details, however, it will take some time to flesh out as I’ve run out of mana.
I think the results are quite good. “For a first draft that is,” I shrug my metaphorical shoulders. There are more stuff closer to the entrance than in the end and no boss yet, but if Miki keeps growing as fast as he is, he might do a good job of it.
Surprisingly, their diets changed their bodies accordingly. Unlike his sister who developed a taste for lizards and snakes, Miki isn’t a picky eater.
Miki was big and strong, while his sister quick and agile. She preferred jumping on her pray from its blindsight, biting it before it had a chance to fight back. Miki however, took a more direct approach. Relying on his physical dominance over everything else in my dungeon to overpower everything he attacked.
They were both adapting to the new floor well. They had much more area to move around in and the two monster mice quickly became the alpha predators of my dungeon.
“But they weren’t strong enough to defend me yet.”
If anyone but a child comes I’ll be left open and exposed for him to discover my core. So instead of conserving mana, whenever I had enough recovered I’d spend it on making my dungeon more secure.
A monster version of a snake that was killed by Sally, Miki’s younger sibling, also joined my rooster. Slithering over the walls and ceiling, waiting for prey from the shadows and attacking anything that strayed to far from the mushrooms light.
I already had an idea of how to incorporate the snakes into my future second floor. But for now, I hide my core deeper into the ground. A small tunnel, going directly down from the end of the first floor. Eventually it will become the entrance to the second floor, but for now, it will be used to defend me in case of an emergency.
Having a few more mana points left, I play around with the ideas I have on how to use the plethora of bugs I can summon. “Sure, making them big could make a satisfying opponent for a child. I’m sure they’ll enjoy making them go splat, but maybe something more subtle will be more entertaining in the long run?”
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Jason stood, slightly shaking from the morning cold. He was so excited for today, he couldn’t sleep at night. Which wasn’t the best way to start his adventure. Being sleepy when going into battle might end up badly for him.
That was why he didn’t take his jacket with him, hoping that a slight chill will wake him up. Unfortunately, that only worked for a few minutes, and now he was both tired and cold. But it’s ok, he’ll warm up soon enough. He just needs to finish duct taping the too big football armor to himself. He was wearing everything but the shoulder pads, with a pair of good tall winter boots to protect his feet. In his backpack were a first aid kit, a flashlight, a roll of duct tape and some snacks with a plastic bottle of water. An old wooden baseball bat and a large metal frying pan cover for a shield completed his equipment.
“Let's do this!” he said in a poor attempt to pump himself up. Not because it wouldn’t have worked but because there was no need too. This was the most exciting day of his life. A bit late now, but he suddenly realized that what he finds out there might only disappoint him. He still wasn’t sure that this wasn’t all some elaborate dream.
Shaking his head and giving himself a few slaps, like he saw his brother do once when his head wasn’t in the game and his team was losing, he pulls his hoodie over his head and tugs at the strings to make it tighter. “Can’t have it falling off mid-fight,” he says to himself as he marches through the forest.
Treading slowly, Jason makes sure to check the ground before every step. The memory of crashing to the ground and being covered by bugs is still fresh in his mind.
However, his caution doesn’t last for long. Maybe if he started closer to the dungeon he’d manage to keep his alertness levels high, but as he started his track ten minutes from the edge of the dungeons territory, by the time he entered it he was already dragging his feet and hitting trees and bushes with his baseball bat.
“Take that, foul beast!” he declares before bashing a low hanging branch and sending leaves everywhere, “And that,” he smacks another branch, which instead of breaking like the last one, snaps back and slaps him in the face.
“Ow oww wow,” Jason crouches, letting go of the bat and grabbing his face in his hands. A smell grabs his attention and he begins to sniff the air, forgetting he was in pain just a moment ago. Searching for the source he finds a mushroom he’s never seen before. It looked alien to him. Colored bright orange and purple, once he noticed it it was hard to look away. His father showed him which mushrooms were edible and which were not, and he had a few chances to browse through the pocket guidebooks in their hunting shop. He would’ve remembered seeing something so eye-catching.
Jason looked around for more of these mushrooms and sure enough, he found what he was looking for easily. None were growing the way he came but plenty of mushrooms stood out amongst the green and brown of the forest floor in the direction he was heading. And with more and more of them covering the landscape with each tree he passed, he had to gulp down as he realized that they were related to what he came here looking for.
He knew better than to eat mushrooms he wasn’t familiar with, so even though they smelled like candy and cake he just grabbed his weapon and shield tighter and moved on. With every few steps the mushrooms seemed to not only grown in number and size, but in variety as well. A few were super thin but grew tall enough to reach his hip, swaying gently back and forth.
Using his bat he smashed their caps, regretting it almost instantly as the remains that got attached to the wooden bat were sticky and sickeningly sweet. He had to stop and clean the bat with leaves and dirt before the sticky substance flowed down to his hands.
“Ewww…” he wiped a drop that touched his finger on his armor and kept walking. Making sure to avoid stepping or bumping into any more of the rainbow-colored mushrooms, until he finally saw the dead tree.
Only it wasn’t dead anymore. Buds were starting to form on its once dead branches. They were small and few but they were there. “Like trees after winter,” Jason thought, remembering the forest in the first days of spring. How empty it looked compared to the potential of life it held once the snow melted away and the weather got warmer.
Stepping closer he saw, at the base of the tree, an opening in the ground. It was hard to miss considering the mushrooms looked like a path leading directly into the dark hole. He looked inside but the sun was still low in the sky and its rays didn’t reach inside it.
Removing his flashlight from the bag he flicked it on and shone the beam down the hole. What it presented him with was a spiral staircase which stairs were made of roots and earth. He looked back in the direction he came from, wondering what he should do now.
Alien mushrooms and a hole in the ground was one thing, but the two combined with the dead tree preparing to bloom was setting off alarm bells in his mind. The tree was near the path he took to school sometimes. He liked going through the forest on sunny days and this particular trees branches remained bare of leaves for years now.
“Ever since mom first got sick,” he said in pain and looked up at the branches and the young leaves that were sprouting on them. He wondered if it meant anything. If it was a sign of some sort.
He wasn’t religious or prone to superstitions but he was a kid. A child that missed his mother and longed for his family's approval. And as he stood there, puzzling over what to do next, wondering if maybe, just maybe, this all meant something more. He hoped this was all connected somehow. That he was meant to find it and that it was more than just a coincidence that led him here.
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“I wonder what he’s standing there for?” I sighed as the boy refused to go down the staircase.
Not that I minded too much as it gave me more time to hide the dangers and change the dungeon into a difficulty that would fit him.
“I kinda wish it was someone older and stronger though…” I thought as I looked at my creations change color, scutter out of the way or dart into hidden parts of the floor upon my command. “Would’ve been fun to try them out,” I sigh again at my failed expectations and return my attention to the boy as he finally makes up his mind and steps down into my dungeon. Allowing me to see how strong he actually is.
“Huh? A class? Levels?” I scratch my nonexistent head as the {Appraisal} reveals the boy is a level 1 [Fighter]. “I thought this was Earth… but I guess it doesn't make sense for a magical dungeon to appear on a world that has no magic.”