I snapped awake, felt my body wrapped in what was apparently fetish plastic, and I wormed my way out until I slammed hard against the floor.
The rug was... familiar. It was my rug. In my room.
Someone stepped over me. It was Jessie. She looked down with a mix of bored fascination and exhaustion.
"Oh, look," she yawned. "He's awake."
I sat up. I was in my room, surrounded with all sorts of beeping and blipping machines with rubber hoses and plastic tubes that whirled around like little snakes and tentacles and... inserted themselves into my—my coin slot.
My coin slot?
Butthole! My butthole! "What are you perverts doing to my butthole!?"
Jessie burst into laughter as I jolted up and yanked out all the wires coming out of my ass and body. "Butthole? Relax, kid, it's a coin slot." She narrowed her eyes and came closer. "Is that really your butthole?"
"It is," said Doc. He stood by the window, the light of sunrise washing over his face, and in his hands, a steaming cup of coffee. "I am the one who modified his body to contain a coin slot there."
I stared in horror. "W-what?"
"Well, it had to go somewhere, did it not?"
"Oh. Yeah, I guess." I stood and dusted myself off. "Wait, no. Why are you jamming stuff into my asshole?"
Jessie draped herself over my back. I could feel the softness of her breasts pressed against me, and she spoke in that mock baby-voice as if talking to a puppy. "Because we wanted to make sure you were okay~~"
"And," Doc continued, "to run some experiments."
"On my asshole," I said. "While I was unconscious."
Jessie squirmed harder against me, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. She smelled like sweat and engine oil. "Aw, come on, Redrim. Or I guess—Obi Imsi."
I felt her grin behind me, and I groaned.
At the time, it felt so epic to say my name out loud like that, but in hindsight, it might've been a terrible idea. What would the people think of me? About all the assholery I had done, and the harem, and the way I treated the harem sluts? Would they hate me? Lose their respect for me?
And why would I even care? Since when was I so worried about stuff like that?
No, I shouldn't have been worried. If anything, they would remember how ultimately powerful I was. I was the perfect alpha male, after all.
I could see it now. Droves of them running to me for bits of wisdom that I would dole out from the safety of my bedroom--I'd redecorate it into something mystical--and I'd teach them my old paladin ways on how to slay beasts of the forest and devil monsters, and give out dating and sex advice, and--
"Now you know my true name," I rumbled, trying to sound like a badass.
Jessie narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure that's your real name? You sure it isn't—you know—a made-up name?"
Doc scratched the back of his neck. "I, uh, have never heard of Obi Imsi before, but I assume that is a birth name and not another hereditary title."
I deflated. "Yeah. Yep. That's it."
I looked out the back windows and saw the edge of a mining laser cutting through another warship. Was I doing that? "Wait, what happened," I asked. "I was knocked out from over-using the Kraken ability. What about the rebels?" My heart began to race. Did everyone make it out? "What about Jenna?" I asked without realizing.
"All who were aboard have survived," Doc said. "But I need to tell you--"
"Where are they?" I demanded. "I need to see them now."
Jessie answered. "Speak to the leader, but they're in a meeting right now. First, we need to update you on your progression."
I took a sharp breath. "Fine. Fine. Hurry up."
> Research Results:
>
> Liquid Magic:
>
> Lightning
>
> Wind
>
> Earth
>
> Ice
>
> Fire
>
> Magic Eye
>
> Drain
>
> Ice Knives
>
> Slow
>
> Silence
>
> Shield
>
> Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
>
> Purify
>
> Protect
>
> Shelter
>
> HP UP
>
> MP UP
>
> Provoke
>
> Gimp Development Center:
>
> Liquid Brutal Dominion
>
> Gimp Monitor
>
> Cyber Engine
>
> Wrist Analyzer/Comm
>
> Machinist's Workshop:
>
> Energy Resource
>
> Matter Resource
>
> Air Intake
>
> Enhanced Ship Recycling Lasers
>
> Training Center:
>
> New Class Unlocks:
>
> Squire
>
> Acolyte
>
> Healer
>
> Archer
Good shit. There was a lot here I could use, and I made a note to look more deeply at it later.
> +5,107,050,000 M
"What is 'M'?" I asked.
"Matter," Doc said. "We've upgraded the ship's recycle management system to merge your resources into two categories. Matter and Energy."
"Huh. Neat." I guess it made things easier to keep track of.
> Time Elapsed Since Last XP Gain: 12.73 Hours
>
> +12,391,923,785 XP
Wait, what?
> +13 Levels [Level 66]
>
> +13 Class Points
How in the hell-- "How did I get so much XP?" I asked.
Doc gestured with his coffee cup outside. My eyes followed, and I saw the mining lasers working into that battleship, and it wasn't even completely done. That's right. I got more XP for actual recycling. I had become so used to utter shit XP that real XP seemed insane to me. Though, given the amount of resources we just mined out of it--
Doc continued. "We've interfaced with Cassandra to go ahead and add to the ship." He hit me with a wink. "We tried not to step on your toes, but I think you'll like the expansion.
> Unnamed 200m-Class Warship:
>
> Weight: 22,950 tons
>
> Speed: 7kph | 3 knots
We'd need to make more engines, but that would come later.
"Alright, good work," I said. "Just, uh, keep doing whatever. I have something I need to, uh, take care of."
"Just go," Jessie said. She was wrapping up cables. "Oh and uh," she blushed and bit her lip, "swing by later, okay? You owe me."
I let out a defeated, exasperated sigh and hurried out.
The ship's halls had become... wider. Livelier, even. Before, it was like a poor village shoved together with metal walls and ceilings, but this was beginning to look like a flourishing port town. The floors had been covered with treated wood planks, the ceiling had inlet lights that offered a soft overhead glow. People had started to decorate doors and paint over walls.
I liked the way it looked. It had character. It felt almost like a place worth protecting.
I ran up the stairs, past a few smiling rebel faces, onto the decks--It was morning now, and the air was chilly and humid--and I stepped into the bridge.
Jenna turned to me.
She was working on something at the maps, other rebel officers had paused mid-sentence, even the Card King stood staring from the corner.
Jenna looked... a bit older now. Her face had a few scars, she was a measure taller, and she wore her rebel uniform like a proper military officer.
She stood in a power stance and thrust her hand at the open door. "Leave us," she ordered.
The rebel officers made no argument. Silently, they filed out, and the door clicked shut behind the last one. Then, the quiet came. The ship creaked a bit with the tide, the breeze rustled the windows, and I could hear her breath.
I smirked. "Good job, kid."
She dash and leapt--
And I caught her into a swinging hug.
And we held each other there for a moment, then two. And when she felt ready, she pulled away. "So he speaks," she said. Her voice had lost its innocent kindness long ago, it seemed, but she still had a youthful jive about her.
"Yeah," I said. "But I don't have anything good to say."
She kicked me in the shin. It didn't hurt, but I pretended. "I believe you owe me a bedtime story."
I laughed. "Still a kid, huh?"
"A leader," she hit back.
I leaned back against the glass and admired her. She was... strong. Capable. Independent. A young woman whose hands could take the whole world if she wanted and whose eyes could order me to do it if she asked.
"Okay, leader," I said. "Tell me all about it. Give it to me straight."
"Nope," she grinned. "You first. You owe me a story, remember?"
I smiled. "Fine, but it'll bore you."
And so I told her. I told her a pretty basic overview of what happened, about the village and Eurusia and the tank and the ship, about Vil and Jessie and the adventurers and the Gimp King, and about Doc and the pirates and the Card King.
She laughed at my jokes and about those crazy situations that, at the time, were downright awful, but she found them hilarious, and now, in hindsight, I did, too. And we laughed together.
And after a half-hour, I was done.
"That's it?" she asked.
"The important parts," I said.
She shook her head. "Fine. You can tell me more later. It's not like we're in a rush." She retreated back to the map, and I joined her.
And she told me the story.
She told me about the escape through the desert, their finding of allies in the mountains. They made a base there, in the caves, anthill network that spread across several kilometers of mountain range, and the Empire gave chase.
First, it was only token forces, slaving groups, police missions, military scouts, but after months passed, and after the rebels continuously attacked the nearby railways, the empire sent regiments of men to fight back.
This created a sort of neverending siege, a cat-and-mouse game of attrition that cost ten-fold more imperial lives than rebels, but their numbers began to dwindle, and over the last season, a sickness spread within the caves.
It was here the rebel leadership denied her repeated requests for a mission to get more medicine. It was too risky, they told her. With her friends and family dying, Jenna alone set out to steal medicine from an imperial army camp and returned with armfuls.
When the imperial forces pushed again on the following week, the rebels had just enough numbers to fight them off.
It was there the leaders died, and soon after, Jenna named the leader for her courageous deeds.
"Your father would be proud," I said, immediately regretting it.
She didn't deflate with sadness as I expected, but she did fall silent for a second. "Do you know what happened to him or my brother?"
It strung. I knew exactly what happened.
Vil was the officer in charge that day. The one who gave the command to the firing squads. In a sense, Vil took a notable part in the killing of her brother and father. Perhaps not in any sense of spite or anger, but because it was just his job.
But still, would she be angry to know that he was here on this ship and one of us?
"Jenna..." I said. "I watched the execution."
She lowered her head. "I see..."
"I wanted to fight back, but--"
"No," she stopped me. "Don't mention it. You did enough for us already. And I know that you were a mere trash can at the time and not the... whatever it is you are now."
"Trash Knight," I corrected.
"Trash Knight," she echoed.
I took a deep breath. "Listen, there's this guy on the ship you should know about--"
Something knocked on the door. It was the Card King with the other rebels in tow.
Jenna waved them in. "Sorry, Redrim, but I should get back to work."
The door clicked open, and boots noisily shuffled in. "Alright," I said. "I'll leave you to it."
"Not so fast," Vil said as he stepped in. "If I have to be a part of this, so do you."
I panicked a bit, internally, at least, and when I saw that Jenna had not noticed and neither did Vil--and neither did they have any real reason to--I relaxed. Behind him, the other familiar faces emerged. Jessie and the Gimp King and the whole-ass Hero Party, it seemed.
"What's this about?" I asked.
Doc answered as he passed me. "About our new goal," he said. "And about Marianna's ultimate scheme."