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The Gate Traveler (Slice of Life LitRPG)
B4–Chapter 7: Villains and Their Useless Stuff

B4–Chapter 7: Villains and Their Useless Stuff

During breakfast, I glanced around at the gang and asked, “Do you still have things you need to complete, or can we start exploring? We’ve been in the Gate area for over a month. I think it’s time to move, no?”

Al looked up from his plate, his fingers drumming a quiet rhythm on his leg as he thought it over. “I think we should stay a short while longer,” he said.

“Why?” I asked. “The potion is ready, we have a spell to harvest the snakes, and the core absorbed a lot of material we can use in the future. I don’t see a reason for staying.”

Al folded his hands on the table, eyes narrowing in that way he did when he was about to explain something serious. “Based on accounts in my family’s archive, it is always advised to stay close to the Gate when first crossing over to a new world and to work on any ongoing projects. The reason is two-fold. First, to allow our bodies to adjust to the elevated or reduced mana levels, which, we don’t need for level 38. The other reason is to ensure we have quick access to the Gate in case we realize we need additional resources from the last world or two we visited. When we crossed to Lumis, all of us discovered things we were missing. When we crossed here, you wanted more scrolls.” He paused, giving me a pointed look. “So, I suggest we wait a little longer, continue working on our respective tasks, and make sure we do not need anything from Earth or Lumis before fully committing to moving on.”

“Yeah, like more paintballs,” Mahya added in a wistful tone.

“You still want more?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“They’re just too useful,” she said with a shrug.

“Hmm, want me to fly you to the closest Gate to Earth?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.

She tilted her head, considering. “I’m not sure. I have two million balls. How much do you have?”

“Over three million,” I said, chuckling.

“I believe we do not need more,” Al chimed in, his tone firm but thoughtful. His fingers tapped lightly on his leg as he spoke. “At some point, we will find a suitable material or discover something better to use.”

Mahya nodded. “I agree.”

I glanced between the two of them. “Do we need anything from Lumis?”

Both of them went quiet, lost in thought. The silence stretched for a long moment before they finally shook their heads.

“No,” Mahya said.

“Not that I can think of,” Al added.

“So, can we move on?” I asked, hoping to get a clear decision.

Al held up a hand, his expression serious. “Let us wait one more day with this thought in our minds. If by tomorrow we do not think of anything else, we can move on.”

Since we were staying an extra day, I searched for something to occupy my time. Then it hit me—I still hadn’t gone through the stuff from Lord Damarion’s safe. How had I forgotten that?

The weapons held little interest, but I was curious about the rest. First, I checked the three chests with the scrolls. The first one had 31 Telepathy scrolls. I added the ten scrolls I bought of the same spell, labeled the chest, and stored it again. The second chest contained 40 building scrolls. 10 of the Fuse Spell I already had, and ten of three different spells.

Fuse Stone

For 50 mana, fuse two stones together into a single, solid piece.

Bind Timber

For 50 mana, joins two wooden beams together seamlessly without nails or fasteners.

Lift Block

Gently raises a stone or wooden block into position, hovering until it is set down. Mana cost is determined by the size of the block and the height it is lifted to.

Reinforce Bedrock

Fortifies the bedrock, making it denser and more stable. Mana cost varies depending on the condition of the bedrock.

It wasn’t earth shattering, and I didn’t see myself involved in construction, but who knew what the future would bring? I labeled the chest and stored it beside the telepathy scrolls.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The last chest had single-use scrolls. Unfortunately, there were 11 Flame Wave which was usable, and the rest was pretty bad.

18 scrolls of:

Ember Wave

Releases a wave of small embers across a short range, capable of igniting flammable objects and causing burns to exposed skin. Useful for creating distractions or forcing enemies to retreat.

23 scrolls of:

Ice Slick

Creates a slippery ice patch on the ground, causing those who step on it to lose their balance. Ideal for controlling the battlefield or slowing down pursuers.

31 scrolls of:

Stone Shard

Summons a sharp stone shard that can be launched at an enemy with precision. Effective against lightly armored opponents and can target weak points.

I need to have a conversation with the people I rob to stop storing all this junk. It’s getting annoying!

The next thing was the glowing orb.

The Omniscient Oculus

Nothing can escape the gaze of the Oculus. Its gaze reaches all corners, observing with silent and unwavering focus.

The description sounded very ominous, full of grandeur and mystery, but the orb itself didn’t do anything, no matter what I tried. I started by simply staring into it, hoping that something—anything—might reveal itself. But after several minutes of awkward silence, nothing happened. I tried channeling mana into it, feeling the familiar pulse of energy flow from me to the orb, but still, it just sat there, inert. I tried holding it under water, just in case the all-seeing eye preferred dampness. No change. Maybe it liked the dark? I shut it in a cupboard for five minutes. Still nothing.

My patience was wearing thin. I gave it a good shake, hoping to jostle whatever ancient power was hiding inside, but still—nothing. I even went so far as to drop it on the ground, watching it bounce like any other useless trinket.

In a moment of sheer annoyance, I shot it with lightning, the spell crackling and fizzling around the orb. For a second, I thought it might react—the air seemed to hum with energy—but it was just the lightning discharging into the floor. The orb remained completely unfazed.

Nothing. No reaction, no secrets revealed. Just... nothing.

With a grunt of frustration, I threw it back into my storage in disgust and pulled out the book instead. The moment it was in my hand, it shot me with lightning.

Not one to back down, I fired a bolt right back at it. The cover flipped open with a thud.

Huh?! That was simple.

The text was in Lumisian, Lumirian, or whatever they called it, but in a strange dialect. It gave me the impression that it was old, though I couldn’t be sure. My knowledge of the language wasn’t that advanced. The diary itself was full of ramblings—life, mana, magic—just endless scribbles. From the tone, I was pretty sure it belonged to a wizard, not a mage. The writer sounded... mad.

“The mana flows through everything, like blood in the veins of the world, pulsing, alive... but what they don’t understand is how it connects, how it binds us all together. The key isn’t in the incantations or the runes, no... it’s in the way you feel the magic, how it courses through you, like a heartbeat. Blood... the blood remembers. It holds memories far older than any spellbook. But no one ever listens to it. They focus on formulas, on control, and that’s why they fail.”

...

“They told me the ritual was wrong, that I couldn’t possibly succeed. Fools, all of them. They don’t know. They don’t see. It’s not about precision, it’s about intent. The magic doesn’t obey laws like they think—it responds to willpower, to the strength of your bloodline, to how much you’re willing to sacrifice. My blood pulses with the truth of it, surging with every beat of my heart. I know the truth. I’ve tasted it in every failed attempt, in every drop of blood spilled to get this far.”

...

“The old masters, they feared what they didn’t understand. They locked away the power, buried it deep in ancient ruins and forgotten places. But blood... blood always finds its way. It always calls to those who are willing to listen. Those who are willing to open themselves to it. They hid the power because they were afraid, but I... I will not hide from it. I will uncover it, no matter the cost. Because the blood never forgets, and neither do I.”

There was an entire page dedicated to how mana tasted when paired with different types of bread. I flipped past that quickly. Then I stumbled upon a three-page dissertation discussing the nature of water, concluding—after much deliberation—that it was, in fact, wet. Following that was a lengthy postulation about how the howls of the wind in a certain cave might actually be prophecies.

It took me the whole day to get through the book. It wasn’t that big, just that the language was cumbersome and slow to process. I didn’t come away with any new insights—too much disconnected rambling—but it mentioned the Oculus in three different places, crowing about the grand achievement of “all-seeing.” With the writer’s obsession with blood, it sparked an idea. I pricked my finger and smeared a drop of blood on the orb.

Nothing happened.

Still, I was convinced this was the right track. So, I smeared another drop of blood on the orb while channeling mana into it. After about 300 units of mana, the orb flickered, and I saw a reflection—myself, sitting there, holding the orb. The view came from the side, which threw me for a moment. Only about ten centimeters around me were visible inside the orb, forming a small, shimmering sphere that lasted for maybe three seconds before fading out.

Well, at least something happened.

Concentrating, I located Al in the greenhouse and made my way over to him. He was carefully trimming a plant when I approached. “Al, I need a drop of your blood.”

He looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“To test something with this thing,” I replied, holding up the orb. It was glowing a bit more now.

Without much hesitation, Al shrugged, pricked his finger with a small blade, and let a drop of blood fall onto the orb. As soon as it hit, I channeled mana into it again. After about 300 mana, the orb flickered to life again, this time showing Al standing in the greenhouse, his figure captured from the side as though I were looking through a window. Oddly, I still wasn’t in the image—not even my hands holding the orb. It floated there, unsupported, as if it existed on its own plane.

“That’s... strange,” I muttered, staring at the image.

“You mean that it is useless,” Al said with a chuckle, a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Yeah... that too,” I admitted with a sigh, the frustration settling in as I rubbed the back of my neck.

Seriously, why can’t the villains I rob ever stash anything useful?