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These Games of Ours (Old)
First Phase: Chapter Twenty Nine

First Phase: Chapter Twenty Nine

The atmosphere was sour. Grim-eyed men moved with stiff movement, eying each other. Nilbog was no different. He held the straps of his backpack as it dug into his skin.

Back then, a few hours ago, no one had dared to look away from the theatrics of the High Guard as he popped each crystal with a sadistic joy. 

There was something inhumane about the way they were tied up, no better than cattle, and how the blood poured out. It touched something within each one of them. Now, the next time they had a fleeting hope of escaping, their minds would return to this morning. 

The cold did not make this any better. The wind blew a bitter chill, and though it was commonplace, complaining about it never seemed to grow old on Nilbog. He groaned, struggling with his load. It was nearly as large as him, and weighed nearly as much.

In truth, the weight wasn’t much of an issue for him with his decent Strength, but because he was impersonating as a young kid, he needed to act the role. It was smaller than the others, but was still heavy enough for most kids to struggle and groan through it. He kept behind his group, enough for him not to suspect him, but not enough for them to disparage him, as people who lagged behind were punished. 

He had two bodies he switched from, three including his real one. The current one should look about 17, which required many different behaviors than a 13-year-old. DIsguise skills were rare but not unheard of. It was something he had to keep i mind.

 “Need a hand, 667?” a man said to Nilbogs side. 

Nilbog looked up from the ground--he really needed to stop doing that. At some pont his carelessness will surely wind him up in trouble. 

64 was walking beside him, his back bent forward, and his neck slightly tilted towards him.

“Why would you help me? We’re going to reach the Mission soon. Each bit of STM saved will keep you safer,” Nilbog said. He was a kid, but that did not mean he had to act foolishly. 663 seemed to be on the intelligent side. He was the one Nilbog needed to be most wary of. 

663 was old, nearly in his thirties.  “It’s...because we’re a party now. We need to help each other,” he said.  

Nilbog nodded. He saw where this was going. He offered his help not because he was feeling particularly nice today, but because he needed help with his own weight. Though his level was well above the average, his stats were not focused physically, and he would simply not do well in close-combat.

He needed to plant teamwork into the party for his own benefit, not to mention that if Nilbog died, they would all be punished. “You sure?” Nilbog said, slightly louder than was required. He wanted to make sure that the two warriors that were walking in front of them heard him clearly. “You’re a support class, aren’t you?” Nilbog decided he should follow suit. True, it was risky to behave in such a manner, but his survival in the dungeons required for him to support the man's plan.

“I am but-” 

“Don’t take me for a fool,” Nilbog said, spitting to the side. “Just because I’m a kid, doesn’t mean I’m stupid. You think I’ll die in the Mission, and you will be punished because of it. Isn’t that why!” Nilbog said, putting a bit of emotion into it. “You think I can’t take care of myself, don’t you!" 

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663 opened his mouth again, but before he could speak 666 stopped in his tracks. “What a fucking idiot. He’s offering you help, but you decline cus’ you’re all prideful and shit?”

“Prideful? Look at him. He’s struggling with his own and he wants to take a bigger load. Who says he won’t hold us back?”

“Hold us? Watch who you talking to, kid, You’re just in it for the ride."

“Calm it down,” 664 said. He was the second warrior. “In-fighting will help no one. 663 is right, though. Me and you, 666, should take more weight on our shoulders. 667, you’re a rogue, right? How far has the disease progressed?"

“The fuck, who are you to tell me what to do? You think you can order me just like that?” the 666 replied, raising his chin.  

“Ironic, how you call me a child but here you go crying like a little bitch,” Nilbog said, out of impulse- he couldn’t hold himself back.

663 quickly cut in, just as 666 was about to march towards Nilbog. “That would be great, honestly. My STM is going to hit sub 50% soon. Even though he’s mouthing off 667 doesn’t look better off.”

“We should just get rid of him, he’s not gonna be useful. He’ll only steal our EXP,” 666 said. 

“Any EXP he gains will be EXP he earned,” 663 said.

“He’s an annoying prick,” 666 said, glaring at Nilbog.

Nilbog glared back at him. 

“He’s a teenager. Are you gonna butt your head against a kid half your age?” 664 said. 

Nilbog nearly let a snicker escape his mouth.

663, seeing things going downhill, spoke up. “My class is not really as great as it sounds, but it has its uses. It just helps me to be resourceful. I have three useful skills. The first is that I can identify most things, such as herbs, traps or items. The second one is Greater Senses, it will give me a better feeling of the battle. The third is buffs. I can get a 10% buff to Brawn, Speed, or Spirit."

664 nodded. “I'll count on you to keep an eye out, then” he said, setting his things down. “Here, give me some of your supplies.”

The Tinker nodded. “Sorry about that. We do get other passive bonuses. Check your Status Afflictions, you should receive a 20% EXP boost and 10% Point gain. We also get a 10% increase in equipment quality, but it only works up to Uncommon items.” 

“Good enough, if you ask me. 667, give me some of your weight too.” 

“You’re get exhausted if you take both of our burdens,” the 633 said, and then eyed number 666. He didn't seem bothered by it at all, but when both Nilbog and 664 stared at him intently, he buckled.

“Oh fine, give it here,” he said, shaking his head. “But that doesn’t mean I consider either of you pricks the party leader.” 

664 shook his head. “We don’t need one to lead over the other. We can just work it out.” 

“Hmph, I’ll be fine with that,” Nilbog said. All three men looked at him oddly, and then, unexpectedly, laughed.  

“And you said he won’t have a use,” 664 said.

“Whatever. He’s the only crazy one to still have a sense of humor after that…” 666 began, but stopped. “Say, wasn’t there a fifth with us?”

 “Talking about me?” the rogue said, causing Nilbog and 666 to jump a few feet in the air.

“The fuck is wrong with you!” 666 yelled, pulling his hands away from the sword at his side.

The Rogue looked back at him, his cheeks plump like a frog's. “I’m a Rogue. I got passive stealth skills, and I’m agile and quick,” he said, dryly. His stomach bounced up and down, as did his man breasts.  

Everyone looked at him with suspicious eyes, unsure of whether he was being serious.