I Became 1-Star Fodder In A Gacha-Game (Chapter 2) (Patreon)

Multiple chapters have been condensed into one. This also has a big change at the end, so I recommend skimming it at least.

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Al groaned, his consciousness slowly returning. Before passing out, he recalled getting shot, everything going black, and then a sensation, like he was a piece of ravioli, squeezed and stretched through a pasta-machine.

Managing to prop himself up, he leaned against a wall, forcing his eyelids open. His body felt like a block of lead. Everything was pitch black. He couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face.

Wriggling his arm in the darkness, he gingerly touched his torso. His shirt was wet and sticky, entirely soaked in blood. He was in bad shape, bleeding out on the floor.

After patting himself down, a sense of crisis rose in Al’s heart. Except for the clothes on his back, he had nothing on him. If Fred had captured him and stuffed him somewhere, then he could only wait for death.

However, while trying to think of a plan, something appeared in front of him.  They were...symbols like glowing embers, burning in the darkness.

Al's eyes opened wide. Was he hallucinating from blood loss?

The markings hovered there, distorting strangely as if seen through a heat-haze. Suddenly, they flashed brightly, like iron rods struck by lightning.

Their colour changed, shifting from crimson to ultra-violet, then cooling to a subdued electronic blue. Writing that had been illegible was transformed, spelling out a word in plain English.

[Initializing…]

Al watched with his mouth open as countless lines of code appeared, running from top to bottom. Before he could blink, it was over, prompting a series of messages.

[Welcome to Crow’s Rest, Hero.]

[The town is currently resisting a monster wave.]

[Find a way to overcome the odds, or survive until the timer expires.]

[You have ten hours.]

[Good luck.]

When the notifications completed, they disappeared, like a screen turning off. A small timer remained in the corner of his vision, counting down from ’10:00:00’.

In a daze, a random thought flashed through his mind. The talk of a hero, a town called Crow’s rest and a sudden monster attack seemed very familiar.

‘…isn’t it similar to the tutorial mission of ‘Heroes of Nexus?’’

For a while, Al sat there silently. He was going insane. The alternative was too ridiculous to consider. 

And yet, he was considering it.

If he believed he was locked up in Fred’s basement, then it was over. He was done for, his goose cooked. Even if he escaped, he would bleed out before getting to a hospital.

This being the world of a game, well... it was his only out.

Clenching his teeth, he started slowly dragged himself across the floor. There was only one way to know for sure.

After fumbling in the dark for a while, scraping up splinters from the wooden planks, his hand bumped into something. It was made from rough linen, and tied with a drawstring, a type of sack.

His breath hitching, Al heaved it up, tearing at the knot with his teeth. After struggling for a while, he managed to get it open, the contents clattering to the ground. Going by feel, he found a few strips of cloth, a leather skin with liquid inside, and something hard and dry, textured like bread, and a blade of cold metal.

Gripping the latter in his hand, he sat there for a moment. If this wasn’t real, then it was an illusion so vivid as to be indistinguishable. Either way, he had no choice but to bet his life on it.

Steeling himself, he scooted over to the wall, running his fingers across it. He knew there was a tunnel somewhere.

Periodically knocking against the bricks, he searched for a hollow sound. After the tenth time, he found it, immediately shoving the knife into the gap between the stones.

It was an excruciating few minutes, digging out one brick after another. His body throbbed with every movement, causing blood to leak from his wounds.

When he felt like he was about to pass out, he lowered the knife, feeling hole behind the wall. It still small, not entirely revealed, but it would have to do.

Reaching behind him, he stuffed the contents back in the satchel, tying the string around his ankle. He couldn’t afford to leave any of it behind.

He didn’t give himself a chance to hesitate, going head-first into the tunnel. It was pitch-black, descending into the bowls of the earth. Fortunately, he wasn’t claustrophobic.

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The tunnel seemed endless, becoming narrower the further he went. Dirt pressed in on all sides, ready to bury him at any moment. Unable to move his arms, he could only keep them in front, slowly clawing his way forward.

His shoulders ached. His chest burned. He couldn’t feel his leg. Looking at the timer, barely ten minutes had passed, but he already felt like he couldn’t go on.

And then it ended.

When he stretched out his hand, looking for another hold, he felt nothing. Instead of a packed dirt, a space opened up in front of him.

Al’s heart leapt in his chest.

With the vigor and enthusiasm of someone who’d gained a new lease on life, he pulled himself over the edge, dropping a few feet before hitting the ground. The impact wracked his body with pain, but he almost welcomed it, bringing clarity to his flagging mind.

Gathering his strength, his arms flailed around in the cramped, dark space, looking for something. It wasn’t long before he touched an unusual object. A little stiff and a little soft, it leaned against the wall of the atrium in an L-shape, silent and unmoving.

As Al’s hands travelled upward, he felt a sticky, squishy and clammy sensation. Then something bristly, almost like hairs.

Recoiling in disgust, he lowered his hands, finding the buttons of a coat. Unfastening them and patting the... body down, he found three smooth, cylindrical objects, cold and textured like glass.

Al took them out, hastily removing the cork at the end. A strong smell filled the space. Medicinal with a sharp, almost metallic component, it pierced straight into his brain.

He couldn’t help turning his face away. How the hell was he supposed to drink this?

Pinching his nose, he forcibly brought it to his mouth, taking a small sip. It was like he’d just poured swimming pool acid straight down his throat. Never mind swallowing it, he felt that if he didn’t spit it out, it might actually kill him.

He roughly pulled on the thread attached to his ankle, finding the satchel and waterskin. In a panic, he poured as much water as he could, swishing and gargling with a fury. 

Done, Al coughed a few times into his hand, tasting blood. The inside of his mouth was completely raw. He’d learned his lesson. Health potions weren’t meant for drinking.

With a shaking hand, he carefully brought it closer to his wound, taking care not to spill. He had to do it by feel, hoping he’d get most of the stuff where it needed to go.

When the viscous liquid touched his wound, he felt like someone sliced him open, scraping a blade over his exposed nerves. A nauseating sensation followed, his flesh wriggling as the bullet was slowly pushed out.

It plopped onto the dirt, followed by a trickle of blood, leaving Al pale-faced and panting. He was strongly tempted to give himself a breather before using the next one, but simply couldn’t. His condition was too bad to delay, even for a few minutes.

Al grabbed and unstoppered the second vial, spilling a little on his clothes. He managed to locate the other wound below his heart. He was really lucky. If the bullet deviated an inch, his corpse would already be cooling by now.

Tipping the vial, another wave of pain surged through his body. He didn’t know if he was getting used to it, but it was slightly less intense this time around. He even had the opportunity to ‘appreciate’ the feeling of his flesh knitting closed and the bullet sliding out.

When it was done, the tension seeped out of his body. He’d lost a lot of blood, and he felt about ready to pass out at any moment. However, he was no longer on the brink of death with a hole in his chest.

After sitting still for a few moments, he reached around with a groan, finding the dry rations and stuffing them in his mouth. He had to wash the rock-hard bread down with some water, but when he did, he felt some strength returning to his limbs.

Groaning belabouredly, he dug his fingers into the dirt wall, hauling himself to his feet. This place wasn’t safe. 

If he wanted to avoid becoming monster food, he needed to leave Crow’s Rest.

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At some point, the dirt walls gave way to old brick. The end was a pile of collapsed stones, with faint rays of moonlight shining through the gaps.

Swallowing a sigh, Al started hauling them out of the way. Fortunately, the stones weren’t too big, and once he’d removed a few of them, the rest practically came tumbling down.

When he toppled the last one, a chilly gust came through, ruffling his hair and clothes. He might’ve enjoyed the fresh air if it weren’t for the strong scent of blood.

As stealthily as possible, Al peeked around the corner, going so far as to hold his breath.

he was met with the sight of a vast, dark forest, stretching out into the distance. breaking through the scattered canopy, moonlight shone, dappling across the underbrush. the sky was clear, hinting at a tapestry of bright stars, glittering like jewels.

Al almost felt himself getting caught up in the atmosphere, but He quickly shook it off. stepping out of the tunnel, he glanced over his shoulder. Not far from him, a grey cobblestone wall stood, stretching into the distance. It was the height of two men, too tall to see over.

There were no screams or shouting, no children crying, nor the sounds of battle. The silence was eerie, broken by the occasional crunching of gravel, wood splintering or stone tumbling down.

Gathering his bearings, Al headed into the forest. His steps were slow and cautious, taking care not to stumble or step on a branch. Given the monsters came from that direction, it seemed suicidal. However, he knew a nexus-point was nearby.

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By the time he spotted the wide, dirt road between the tree-trunks, vaguely visible in the moonlight, he felt about ready to die from stress. He had a rough idea of where the portal was located, but this wasn’t a video game. There was a big difference between a small level, clearable in five minutes, and the real world.

Taking a moment to calm his nerves, he took out his waterskin, draining the last few drops. If he messed it up at the last moment, he really wouldn’t forgive himself.

When he was done, he wiped his mouth, restowing the satchel. He dropped onto the dirt, crawling the last stretch at a glacial pace. The brush thinned out closer to the road, making it easier to be spotted.

Five paces.

Fifteen.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Al felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. His wounds had taken their toll, and the healing as well. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on. If the portal didn’t appear soon, he’d really be in dire straits.

He pushed onward with single-minded focus, his breath coming in short gasps. He had to believe it was close. That his game-knowledge wouldn’t let him down.

When his determination flagged, feeling like he simply couldn’t keep going, Al spotted a structure through the vegetation. Big, grey and rectangular, it looked like a doorframe carved from solid stone.

It was like a gift from heaven; a prayer answered.

Al didn’t even know how he covered the last stretch. He’d practically blacked out, still crawling one moment and the next, standing in front of the monolith.

Steadying himself, he reached out a hand, stretching it toward the ancient, rough-looking stone. His palm laid flat against it, feeling the deep grains, the weathering of ten thousand years. In the game, the portal had activated as soon as the hero approached. As far as he knew, there was no trick, nor a mechanism of any sort-…

Without warning, a gust of wind appeared, drawing inward in a ripple. There was an indescribable sound, something he felt more than heard—a low droning, just outside his range of hearing.

Like a bolt of lightning, ultraviolet sparks flashed in the center of the archway. A small black dot appeared, revolving at incredible speeds.

When a series of messages appeared, alerting him of the nexus point’s activation, Al barely noticed. Just standing there, staring into an expanse of endless stars and galaxies, he got a sense of unfathomable distance. Like standing on the threshold of infinity.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he readied himself to take the next step. He didn’t know what his purpose was for being summoned, whether it was intended or just an accident, but it didn’t matter. If he wanted to survive, there was no way but forward.

Yet, in that moment, something compelled him to look over his shoulder. 

It was the voice of a child, pained and pleading.

“H-help me…”

With the portal droning behind him, Al’s neck swiveled around, like a puppet on strings.

He was met with the sight of dappled woods, their slowly swaying branches stirred by the wind. He saw the starry sky above, like a sheet of dyed cloth, decorated with so many stars. And the haunting, silvery moon, like the crown jewel in the heavenly treasury.

But all was not as it seemed. Something appeared out of place.

At first, he wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him, conjuring up illusions. It wouldn’t be unusual in this kind of situation. Looking through the lens of exhaustion and fear, could he really trust his own eyes?

Al couldn’t make sense of it, though he looked right at it. 

It was the head of a horse, peeking at him from behind a tree trunk. Black as night, a messy mane hung over its face. Only one eye was exposed, staring at him—a featureless, white orb.

Blinking once, Al looked out of the corner of his eye, checking the other side of the trunk.

No neck. No torso. No legs. No rump.

Fear settled in his gut, a cold and clammy sensation. He unconsciously retreated a step, his back all but touching the portal.

“…h-help.”

The horse’s jaw hung open unmovingly, speaking again in that same voice—like a young boy.

When it did, Al’s limbs completely seized up, like someone experiencing palsy. He tried to move, but found he couldn’t budge in inch. It was like his soul was being sucked into those milky, grey eyes.

“P-please. Please help m-me.”

Its voice was spine-chilling, something out of a nightmare.

A hand came around the edge of the trunk, black as the rest of it. It had long, gangly fingers with far too many digits. Then, a torso, covered in long shaggy hair, the same as its mane. Hooved, digitigrade legs, stepped into the open.

It was tall. Far taller than a human. It had been crouching, hiding itself behind the tree.

Its eyes, which had been blank as a piece of porcelain, changed. Something receded, almost like a secondary eyelid, revealing two horizontal, slitted pupils.

“It hurts. I’m s-so scared.”

Overcome by a sense of crisis, Al bit down on his tongue, blood filling his mouth. Some semblance of feeling returned to his limbs. He tried to hurl himself into the portal, but his movements were glacial.

Despite being terrified out of his mind, he had enough sense left to realize the truth—this wasn’t normal. The monster was doing something to him.

Without breaking eye-contact, the thing took a step closer. It held something in its one arm—a dirty, blood-stained figure.

At first, Al didn’t realize what it was. However, a second look revealed the truth. It was a child.

Its sinister-looking fingers were wrapped their one arm, twisted into an unnatural angle. Broken bone protruded from the elbow joint, slick with blood, droplets splashing onto the soil. A homp of flesh had been taken out, leaving a hideously gruesome wound.

The child’s eyes were open, their features frozen in a hair-raising expression. Comatose from shock, pain and terror, drool and saliva trailed down their face, soaking the hem of their shirt.

the creature took another step. Then one more.

it exposed rows of sharp teeth—unnatural in its equestrian face. A long tongue slithered out of its mouth, black and covered in barbs. Its breath was hot and humid, smelling of bloody meat.

Inches away from escape, Al tried to wrench his body into the portal. Though the kid was still alive, there was no chance of rescuing them. He wasn’t even going to try.

However, he couldn’t even twitch. The unnatural hold on him had tightened to a vice-like grip.

Al didn’t understand why this was happening. Where did this weird monster come from? There wasn’t anything like it on this level!

It was so fucking unfair.

Watching the thing creep closer—carefully eyeing the active portal behind him—he wracked his brains furiously. Yet, no matter how he thought, there was no solution. He was just a powerless human.

[Updating mission log…]

[Secondary objective added.]

[You’ve encountered another survivor.]

[Rescue them from the Wi-nteko-wa’s clutches.]

[Your contribution points will update accordingly.]

[This mission will expire in five minutes.]

When the series of messages flashed past his eyes, Al felt insane laughter bubbling in his chest. Someone had to be messing with him. He couldn’t even save himself!

The monster was already in front of him. Slowly, it extended its other hand, reaching for Al’s arm.

Ah, he was so tired. So tired of all this bullshit. Everything in his old life and this new one. Why was everything always outside his control? Fuck all of it. He didn’t even care. Maybe this time, he could go to sleep without waking up again-…

However, before the monster could eat him alive, a volley of loud ‘cracks’ sounded. Coming from the direction of Crow’s Rest, they hung in the air, echoing in the distance.

‘Could it be? Did that bastard end up here too? Serves him right…’

Having heard it before, up close and personal, there was no way Al wouldn’t recognize what they were.

The monster was likewise caught of guard, its slitted pupils involuntarily flicking toward that direction. 

And when its attention left him, so did its spell.

Al’s eyes widened in shock. He felt a sense of lightness, like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Carefully twitching his fingers, he realized he was free. He could escape!

yet, he found his eyes involuntarily travelling toward the child. he didn’t know if he had it in him to abandon the kid to a fate gruesome beyond imagining. Not when he could do something about it.

Clenching his fist involuntarily, he realized he was still holding on to the old knife. From the beginning, he hadn’t let go of it, having feared the worst.

There was no time to think. He lunged forward, swinging the knife in an overhead slash. 

His strike didn’t target the monster, but the child in its grip. Having been dragged around like a doll for God knew how long, only a string of flesh and sinew connected upper-arm to lower.

The creature sensed his attack with preternatural instinct. With lighting-strike movements, it clawed at Al’s face with wickedly-long, evil-looking nails.

Wracked with exhaustion and unable to dodge, he felt the razor-sharp edges tear open his neck and chest. His flesh severed and parted, blood spurting into the air.

Still clutching the knife with his arm outstretched, he was propelled by the monster's momentum, falling backward into the portal. 

Al didn’t look away from the child's desolate, glassy orbs. Not until he went tumbling down into the sea of stars, and the blackness enveloped him.

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