Scott averted his gaze from the system's message, focusing instead on the two items resting on the damp ground. Taking the map and bracelet seemed within his grasp, yet yielding to that temptation would only serve to confirm Omar's apprehensions. Lifting his head, he fixed his eyes on the village chief, who knelt before him, and Milos, standing silently to the side. A gentle wind swept across the area, carrying a hint of minty aroma as it meandered through the settlement.
“Tell me more about these Kleploids. Where do they reside, and what vulnerabilities do they have? How formidable are they, and what resources do they extract from your community?” Scott inquired after a reflective pause.
While he refrained from pilfering the map and bracelet, he harbored no intention of embarking on a perilous quest. Despite the Tower of Champions ushering in a plethora of game-like abilities, there was no guarantee of resurrection upon death.
The village chief knelt, exhaling softly in relief that Scott hadn't outright refused the request or absconded with the items. “Great one, the kleploids aren't overwhelmingly powerful. Most of them haven't even attained basic weapon mastery, relying solely on their nimbleness.” The kneeling gruffpaw gestured toward the settlement in the distance before elaborating, “Their current hideout is ten kilometers beyond the village, situated in the rocky region past the scavewood area – you can't miss it. They visit every other month, demanding provisions such as food, potions, herbs, wine, and tobacco. However, their demands have escalated over the past month.” He paused, his brows furrowing as he delved into thought. “Regarding their weaknesses, there are rumors that they abhor fire. Truthfully, we attempted to burn them in the past, but they proved too swift. They fled before the fire could take hold.”
Scott folded his arms across his chest, nodding attentively as the village chief shared his insights. “What about their numbers?”
“P-Pardon me, I'm not confident about their exact numbers, but it shouldn't exceed fifty... no, forty.”
“Forty, huh,” Scott muttered to himself, his eyes wandering into the distance. A contemplative silence enveloped them, and neither the kneeling chief nor Milos had any intention of disturbing the mysterious being.
After a moment, Scott broke the silence. “Do they enjoy wine?”
“Pardon me?”
“The kleploids, are they heavy drinkers?” Scott clarified.
“Y-Yes. That's what they treasure the most. We have tried poisoning them in the past, but we didn't know they had poison resistance,” the village chief explained, curious about Scott's line of questioning.
Scott nodded thoughtfully. If poison won't work, then we can surely try other methods. A devious smile played on his lips as he continued, “Does your village have any potent laxatives? If not, do you know of any herbs that can cause a similar effect?” Scott directed his gaze at Milos, the expert herbalist who would likely be familiar with all the local herbs within the forest.
The village chief turned toward Milos. “Why aren't you saying anything? Tell the great one what you know.”
“We don't have any laxatives in the village, but I do possess some herbs that can induce a similar effect,” Milos replied.
“How potent are the effects?” Scott inquired, a playful smile on his face.
“I'm not certain. I primarily use them for other experiments. The discovery of their digestive impact occurred when I accidentally ingested a drop,” Milos explained.
The village chief interjected, “Are you referring to the incident when you couldn't cease farting and defecating?”
A bashful smile appeared on Milos's face as he nodded.
“How long did it last?” Scott asked.
“Three days, great one. It felt like my entire body was ablaze, and I was on the verge of emptying my insides. I never want to...” Milos paused, a sudden thought filling his mind. A wicked smile graced his lips as he dropped to his knees. “Great one, you truly are exceptional. I can't believe we never thought of that.”
“Wait, what are you talking about? Let me in on it... oh? oh, oh!” The village chief's face lit up with a wicked smile, realizing Scott’s ploy.
The gruffpaws erupted into laughter, praising Scott for his ingenious suggestion.
Scott chuckled at the duo; their mischievous faces were irresistibly cute. Despite having flunked biology, he pondered whether laxatives could be classified as poisons. Regardless of the outcome, he was confident he could devise an alternative plan.
Gathering his thoughts, Scott addressed the kneeling duo, “When is the ransom exchange scheduled?”
“Tomorrow night. But chances are slim that they'll release my daughters, especially now that they don't need to feign tax collection. They can merely claim they're gathering tributes to care for our people,” the village chief replied promptly.
Scott cleared his throat and continued, “I understand. While I can't guarantee the success of my plan, I'll do my best to rescue your daughters and drive away the Kleploids. However, it's crucial that you follow my instructions.”
Milos and his uncle bowed, expressing gratitude to Scott. However, he simply waved off their words. “All right, here’s the plan.”
Scott proceeded to explain his strategy in meticulous detail, eliciting shock and amazement from the kneeling duo. Though the plan wasn't revolutionary or overly complex, its ingenuity was admirable. The prospect of leaving the thieving invaders in a world of pain brought great satisfaction to the gruffpaws.
While Scott unveiled his plan, unbeknownst to him, another gruffpaw concealed within a dense thicket lay prone on the ground, vigorously flapping his arms. Silently sobbing, he lamented his choice to trail the sprinting uncle and nephew. Had he known they were summoned by a ghostly entity, he would have opted to stay perched on the branch.
Morning arrived abruptly. Despite the village chief's pleas, Scott refrained from entering the village. Weary of witnessing the diminutive creatures groveling on the ground, pleading for mercy, he instead requested provisions—food, water, and any available blankets to combat the cold.
Milos made several visits on his uncle's behalf, inquiring if Scott needed anything. However, the half-human was solely interested in the progress of their plan. Nightfall descended once more, but this time, a somber atmosphere replaced the festivities of the previous night. Gruffpaws, young and old alike, congregated at the village entrance, their googly eyes fixed on a small party approaching from the distance.
The approaching group differed markedly from the gruffpaws; they were devoid of fur, and their dry, grayish-blue skin shimmered under the moonlight. Frog-like heads, squarish in shape, stood in stark contrast to their lanky, somewhat humanoid bodies. Limbs tapered at each major joint, and tiny spikes adorned their backs. Holding crudely made spears, their forked tongues flickered as slit eyes focused on the gruffpaws.
The leader of the group waved a webbed hand at the village chief. “Miliot, you don’t look happy to see us. Is this how you’re going to be?”
Surrounding kleploids cackled, strutting forward as they closed the distance. Miliot, the village chief, fixed a stern gaze on the kleploid leader. “Vugar, where are my daughters?”
Vugar, the kleploid leader, snickered. “C’mon now. How could we possibly bring them on such a far journey? As their father, shouldn’t you prioritize their health?”
Miliot stepped forward, but a hand grabbed his arm. He turned to see Milos shaking his head. The village chief returned to his position, but the rage still simmered beneath the surface.
The kleploid party halted within ten feet of the village’s entrance. Vugar stepped forward, slinging his spear over his shoulder. “Enough chit-chat, Miliot. You know why we’re here. So, let’s not waste each other’s time, okay?”
Miliot's bloodshot eyes fixated on the snickering kleploid, a seething desire to tear him limb from limb coursing through his veins. “Bring the carts,” he whispered.
A creak echoed, and the villagers obediently parted. Two sturdy gruffpaws pushed forward a cart laden with sealed, blackened jugs. Transparent foil enveloped an assortment of herbs, alongside various cooked and uncooked foods. Another gruffpaw followed suit, the gentle swooshes from the jugs harmonizing with the cart's wheels.
Meanwhile, the kleploids, in the throes of amusement, licked their lips and laughed heartily. “I'm jealous. You truly know how to spoil your daughters,” Vugar remarked, licking his lips while gesturing toward his subordinates. They eagerly took charge of pulling the laden cart.
“I hope you enjoy the rest of your night. I'll assure your daughters that you're doing fine. See you next week, okay?” Vugar smirked as he spoke. Milos interjected from the sidelines, “Scoundrel! How dare you return next week after plundering all this?”
This time, Miliot assumed the role of calming his nephew. Vugar, unfazed, simply smiled at the enraged gruffpaws. “See you next week. Bye.” He waved, laughing as he ordered his men to depart.
“Are we really going to let them leave like that?” a disgruntled gruffpaw asked. Despite their passive nature, they couldn't stomach the kleploids' arrogance any longer.
“Be patient,” Miliot said, bloodshot eyes focused on the departing kidnappers. “They'll get what's coming to them soon.” He whispered while turning toward Milos. Both exchanged a nod, a wicked gleam covering their eyes.
Meanwhile, the kleploid party laughed while inspecting their bounty. “Those pushovers are really wealthy,” Vugar said, unsealing a wine jar. The sweet fragrance filled his nostrils, and the bandit couldn't help but hiss in excitement.
“Boss, we have you to thank for all this,” a kleploid said while munching on some dried mushrooms.
“Only the gods know what would have happened if we hadn't crossed the ravine. Maybe we would have starved to death by now.”
Vugar laughed while gnawing on a mushroom. “They called me a madman, but who is laughing now? Life in the forest is way easier than in that wasteland. There are no dangers, the weather is nice, and we have an endless supply of food and drinks.”
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Vugar chuckled again. “As long as we don't push those guys to their limits, we will be set for a long time.” The kleploid leader reached for another mushroom, tossing it into his mouth whole. The chewy mushroom filled his mouth, releasing its juices as the kleploid chewed it.
“Does that mean we won't be going back next week?” a curious kleploid asked.
“We've been there three times in the past twenty days. I only mentioned that to keep them on their toes. As I mentioned, we can't afford to make them rebellious. Even pushovers have their breaking point,” Vugar explained.
“But boss, wouldn't it be better to take all we can while we can?” Another subordinate inquired.
Vugar hissed, glaring at the fellow. “Don't be greedy. That's how you ruin a good thing. Visiting thrice in a short span is already pushing it. Do you want to suffer like we did in the ravine?”
The greedy kleploid chuckled nervously, shaking his head. Even if they beat him to death, he would never return to the ravine.
“Um, so, boss, can we start drinking?” Another kleploid asked, changing the topic.
“Let's get to the hideout first. Those guys gave us their best wine as we requested. We must take our time to enjoy it,” Vugar said. The greed in his slit eyes betrayed his words. He subconsciously licked his lips as the alcoholic scent filled his nose. He couldn’t wait to get drunk.
“Let’s go. The longer we delay, the less time we have to savor the drinks.”
Without uttering a word, the party hastened their pace. They journeyed through varied forest landscapes before reaching a desolate region dominated by boulders, with sporadic tufts of grass but no thriving vegetation in sight.
Carefully, the group maneuvered the cart along a sloping path, ensuring the rough terrain didn't damage any of their spoils or the cart itself. After a moment, they reached the entrance of a massive cave. Several kleploids welcomed them with whistles, their avaricious eyes fixed on the contents of the cart.
Meanwhile, two gruffpaws, confined in a crudely constructed wooden cage, glared at the excited kleploids with fury in their eyes. They knew the bandits had once again deceived their people out of their possessions.
Vugar grinned as he observed their anger and walked toward them, a jar of wine tucked under his arm. “Why the long faces? You two should be happy. None of this would be possible without you.”
The gruffpaws could only glare at the bandit leader, their mouths gagged by a hemp rope.
Vugar hoisted the jar triumphantly, his smile radiating sheer joy. “Long live the gruffpaws!” he bellowed.
“Long live the gruffpaws!” his companions echoed in unison.
“Long live the pushovers,” Vugar chuckled, relishing the chorus of agreement from his companions. Laughter erupted, much to the chagrin of their captives. Vugar shot a mischievous wink at the bound duo, savoring their discomfort. Then, he strolled toward his subordinates. “All right, everyone, it's time to party!”
Cheers erupted as the kleploids dropped their spears and retrieved wooden bowls from their inventory. Two kleploids stationed themselves in front of a cart, ready to distribute wine and food, while three others pushed a second cart into the cave. A festive atmosphere swiftly enveloped the area. Some kleploids danced to the tune of a string instrument played by their brethren, while others clapped and indulged in drinks. Only the two prisoners bore somber expressions in the camp. Yet, the kleploids paid them no mind; as far as they were concerned, the gruffpaws' emotional state held no significance. Their safety and well-being were the sole concerns. And so, the festivities carried on deep into the night.
Unbeknownst to the jubilating bandits, a solitary figure observed them from a distance. “I almost feel sorry for these guys,” Scott mused, his gaze fixed on the group from his concealed vantage point. He had been tailing them ever since their departure from the village, patiently anticipating the moment the drugs would take effect. “Well, at least they get to enjoy themselves. What a lousy way to go, though” he chuckled at his own dark humor while studying the system messages.
Status Screen Basic Stats
Race: Kleploid! Level: 1-2. Class: None. Mana Points: 20/20.
Physical Stats Strength: 10. Agility: 25 (-20 due to current physical condition!) Dexterity: 25 (-20 due to current physical condition!) Endurance: 30 (-20 due to current physical condition!) Toughness: 10. Abnormal Stats
Charm: 2. Perception: 10 (-5 due to current mental conditions!).
Skills Survival - Level 3
Abilities Poison Resistance: You are immune to all indigenous poisons in the barren ravines and Nameless Forest. Survivalist: No matter the situation, a path for survival will appear before your eyes.
Inventory
Empty!
Quests Main Quest: Survive – Ongoing! Side Quest: Enjoy the party – Ongoing!
Scott shook his head while perusing the kleploids' status screens. “These guys are way too simplistic," he muttered, noticing the effects of alcohol settling in. However, he remained concealed in his position.
Shifting his gaze from the first status screen, he focused on Vugar's stats. Oddly, it appeared much bulkier compared to the other kleploids.
Status Screen Basic Stats
Name: Vugar – Temporary! Race: Kleploid – Temporary! Mana Points: 30/30 – Temporary! Level: 2 – Temporary! Class: Trickster.
Physical Stats Strength: 8 – Temporary! Agility: 8 – Temporary! Dexterity: 45 – Temporary! Endurance: 10 – Temporary! Toughness: 10 – Temporary! Abnormal Stats
Charm: 30. Perception: 30.
Skills
Camouflage (Level 3) Expert Negotiator (Level 5). Infiltrator (Level 3) Expert Trickster (Level 5). Survival (Level 3).
Abilities Partial Poison Resistance: You are immune to most indigenous poisons in the barren ravines and Nameless Forest. Survivalist: No matter the situation, a path for survival will appear before your eyes. Skilled Negotiator: Odds of getting your way when negotiating increases by 25%. Mask: No one will suspect your true intentions. 25% chance of successfully infiltrating a group when Mask is activated in conjunction with Skill – Camouflage.
Quests Main Quest: Find and investigate the Nameless Tower – Ongoing! Side Quest: Investigate the Nameless Forest and its inhabitants – Ongoing! Side Quest: Return to the Starting Point – Not started! Side Quest: Deliver the Ayan Ore to the Shadow Syndicate – Not started! Side Quest: Enjoy the party – Ongoing!
Scott clicked his tongue as he perused Vugar’s status screen. Who the hell is this guy? As he delved deeper, his mouth fell slightly agape. The trickster held an abundance of secrets, distinguishing him from the other kleploids. If he isn't a kleploid, then what could he possibly be? Scott pondered in silence.
Meanwhile, within the kleploid camp, Vugar and his comrades reveled in their feast, partaking in merriment beneath the moon's glow. The ground was strewn with dozens of empty wine jugs, and the melody of their celebration echoed through the air as several empty sacks rustled in tune with the chilling winds.
Amidst the jubilation, a kleploid rose unsteadily. “Boss,” he slurred, struggling to raise his bowl, “I dedicate this toast to you! If not for you, we would still be trapped in the ravine. Three cheers for our boss!”
The kleploids hoisted their bowls high, chanting Vugar's name. The trickster beamed, standing up with his own bowl aloft. “My brothers, thank you. If not for...” A sudden, jarring noise, somewhat insipid in nature, abruptly interrupted Vugar's speech. Instantaneously, a putrid stench permeated the air, compelling the kleploids to shield their noses.
“Vugi, are you trying to asphyxiate us? How much did you drink?” Vugar admonished the perpetrator of this audacious assault. Vugi, the very kleploid who had proposed the toast in Vugar's honor, rose sheepishly, darting toward the nearby rocks while clasping his stomach. More noxious emissions emanated from his rear as he made his escape.
Vugar grimaced at the noxious fumes and wondered what kind of inedible substances could produce such a repulsive odor. Good Lord, I feel like I'm suffocating, he thought to himself. Clearing his throat, he lifted his bowl again. “As I was saying, this is all...” Another thunderous explosion interrupted Vugar's speech, triggering a series of blasts that startled even the slumbering gruffpaws, jolting them from their restless slumber. The putrid air assaulted their senses, causing the duo to collapse on the spot. Several kleploids sprinted toward the nearby rocks, clutching their churning stomachs in distress.
Vugar furrowed his brow, instinctively shielding his nose. Did those pushovers poison the wines? It wasn't just the kleploid leader harboring such suspicions. However, if the wines were indeed poisoned, it shouldn’t have affected them due to their resistance.
Could it be laxatives? Vugar's face twisted into an expression of horror as the unsettling thought invaded his mind. Hastily, he accessed his inventory, retrieving two instant hangover pills and two recovery potions. However, the moment the items materialized, his stomach protested vehemently, forcing the trickster to collapse onto his knees.
“I can't suppress it any longer… ha!” Vugar screamed in unison with his companions. They all succumbed to the relentless upheaval in their stomachs, devoid of any rationality or shame. The only imperative now was to alleviate the torment of their fiery bellies. The previously unconscious gruffpaws were jolted awake by the cacophony, bewildered to find their captors amid a rather undignified spectacle. Some had even lost consciousness again, yet their bodies continued to convulse in sync with the tumultuous rebellion within their stomachs.