After some unknown amount of time had passed, I had stockpiled an impressive load of stuff to recycle.

-38 Dirty Napkins

-11 Used Paper Cups

-3 Aluminum Cans

-21 Used Paper Plates

+306 Earth Element

+1,533 XP

+1 Level [Level 2]

+1 Class Point

Oh, that was underwhelming. Normally when a person leveled up, they would get a confetti blast of light and mana and energy like a metaphorical mariachi band to celebrate the occasion. I supposed with recycling bins, such a thing was unnecessary.

I wasn't sure how recyclers were expected to use class points on their own--maybe by magic-based animation or artificial intelligence--but it really didn't matter. I was a human soul trapped in a tin can that was hell-bent on revenge.

"Review: Skill Tree."

In the darkness, an almost holographic image fell into view, displaying the various routes of leveling that a young, budding trash can such as myself could take.

>Sensory

>Utility

>Efficiency

Each tree was mostly self-explanatory, but any skill past the next level was hidden.

>Sensory > Sight

Enables the recycler to analyze its surroundings.

>Utility > Vend: Paper

Recycler may offer basic paper products to sell.

>Efficiency > Efficiency 1

Raw Materials acquired by recycle increased to 30%.

You know, it really brought into question why recyclers even had leveling paths in the first place, but I soon realized that it had to have been economic in nature. If a recycler were able to analyze what type of products are being dropped in, it could make educated judgements on what products it should sell. After all, why offer daggers and mana potions if the recycler was stationed outside of a fancy restaurant?

"Unlock: Sight."

"Sight unlocked."

As if turning on a light switch, colors and shapes and figures and pounding, blinding light overwhelmed me.

I could see again.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Cobblestone streets filled with common passerby, men and women and children of various status, soldiers and policemen, aristocrats and merchants, all moving to and fro between carriages and wagons that turned beyond the wood and brick homes and storefronts of the city.

Blue skies, sun rays breaking through distant clouds.

I was still in Lambston.

My sight was essentially the same as it was in my human body. In order to see all around me, I had to metaphorically turn my head and look up or down. To my relief, I could still close my eyes if needed, even though blinking was unnecessary. Because, you know, I didn’t have eyelids. I was a trash can. Trash cans don’t have eyelids.

This entire time I was hoping that all of this was just a really long and stupid dream, but now reality was here again. I looked down and could see the edge of my metal exterior gaze back. A mistake, it was, for all this brought was a vague sense of sadness and irritation for my predicament.

+1 Dirty Napkin

+1 Dirty Plastic Fork

+1 Dirty Paper Plate

And it's gone. For some reason, obtaining things invoked some strange response that made me thoroughly enjoy having trash tossed into me. It might've been a side effect of, you know, becoming a trash can--maybe a psychological reward--but this tiny bit of happiness could be the one thing to support me mentally on this quest for revenge.

I looked over at the culprit to see an old man with withering white hair and a cane. He had crumbs in his mustache. Behind him, tables and chairs underneath umbrellas--all packed with people stuffing their mouths with food. Beyond them, a storefront. The painting above the door read, TOM'S FAT WIENERS.

I knew it. This was a restaurant. It explained the disproportionate amount of disposable cutlery and dining ware. With that in mind, I already knew what stuff I could sell to boost my XP--once I unlocked vending.

***

By nightfall, the shops had closed, the people went home, and the streets were empty. The city had gone to sleep. I felt as though I had enough for my next level, so I recycled what I had.

+341 Earth Element

+33 Air Element

+61 Water Element

+2,175 XP

+1 Level [Level 3]

+1 Class Point

"Review: Skill Tree."

The chart fell into view. Right off the bat, I noticed that the next Sensory unlock was for hearing, which seemed good, but Vend was the better choice for the time being.

"Unlock: Vend: Paper."

"Vend: Paper Unlocked.”

Something inside me changed. I somehow knew that my insides were changing shape, reforming half of my gaping trash-can maw into a slot to place products in, covered by a glass cover. Now half of my opening led to the abyss of me, and the other half I could use as consumer goods real estate. The system included vending storage, a coin slot and bank, and a drop-down area to toss the vended items.

“New recipes unlocked.”

Recipes? I hastily swiped over through my menu screens to see what I obtained, and I was met with a long list of… the expected. Paper cups, plates, utensils, origami animals, toothpicks, cubes, door stoppers, and about a thousand other things listed in vaguely alphabetical order. I knew right away that these were simply command shortcuts since the instincts within me clicked on when I unlocked the skill. I somehow knew how to make all of this just by visualizing the product and shitting it out. At least having a written guide as a framework could be useful.

Now I just needed to craft some stuff and started selling goods to retake my place as an economically productive member of this society. If I was to be a trash can, I wasn’t gonna be a freeloading one.

"Craft: Paper Napkin."

-10 Earth Element

Hummmm-Click. Through my mind’s eye, I could see that a lone paper napkin formed in my crafting section and was sent to the vending display. This was good, but I received no experience points for it. It was probably just given once a product sold, which would make sense in order to not accidentally train recyclers to just spam random products.

"Craft: Paper Napkins: All."

-640 Earth Element

Hummmm.

When I considered it, the restaurant gave out cups, plates, and utensils with their food, but napkins would most certainly be needed more--considering how dirty and messy those peasants were.

Ha. I sometimes impressed myself with how clever I was. Now that I was essentially a merchant with no overhead, it would only be a matter of time before I could level my way through the sensory tree to hopefully unlock a way to move around.

Click.