I Became 1-Star Fodder In A Gacha Game (Chapter 3) (Patreon)

The rewrite continues. Most of this chapter is new content. It's about 1k words more than usual, so I took a bit longer.

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Al knew it was night-time. It was raining softly, the droplets soaking his hair and clothes. The wind gusted, showering him with water and wet leaves. The surface under him was hard and uneven, like a bed of stones. Exhausted, he wanted nothing more than to keep his eyes closed and sleep.

However, a series of messages disturbed his peace.

[Primary objective completed.]

[Hero ‘Alistair’ survived.]

[Calculating score…]

[Mission rank: A]

[Calculating rewards…]

[Player ‘Little_Miss_Perfect’ receives 1x Blue Summoning Crystal.]

[Hint: Completing bonus objectives improves the player’s mission rank. A higher rank provides better rewards.]

The words flashed in Al’s vision, forcing him into wakefulness. Blearily opening his eyes, he scanned them from top to bottom, stopping when he saw the second-to-last.

‘Wait… who the hell is ‘Little_Miss_Perfect’?’

Al squinted at the lines of text, examining them again. When their meaning registered, he jolted upright.

He… wasn’t the player, but a summoned hero in someone else’s game. This was bad.

He didn’t need a status-window to tell him he was a common. A one-star. A useless food hero. That was the identity of the player’s first summon, destined to die during the tutorial mission.

He thought desperately. It was only a matter of time before he was sent to his death as a meat-shield, or fed to a high-rarity hero.

[Player ‘Little_Miss_Perfect’ used 1x Blue Summoning Crystal.]

Al groaned. Couldn’t he have a moment’s respite?

Having cleared the tutorial, he earned the hidden reward. Blue crystals were exceptionally hard to get hold of, even for a veteran player. Despite playing for five years, he hadn’t pulled more than fifty of them. The heroes they dropped were... powerful.

If Al had a team of peers, there was hope of showing his usefulness to the summoner. Now, that was a pipe-dream. He couldn’t compete with a rare.

His heart dropping to the pit of his stomach, he turned his head, looking at the portal. It lit up in a deep blue color, swirling and discharging sparks of energy.

A thrum rose, like machinery starting up. The ground began to tremble, vibrations transmitting into his limbs. He tasted metal, the smell of ozone filling the air. The vortex was spinning faster and faster. Bolts of energy striked the wet cobblestones, zapping across the surface.

Not wanting to get fried, Al scuttled backward on hands and knees. He watched wide-eyed as the portal’s colour changed, shifting to a sinister violet.

Something was off.

‘This… is an epic!’

If he was the summoner, he would’ve been overjoyed, actually managing to land the 1% chance for a rarity-up. Instead, dread mounted in his chest.

The portal shook and groaned, the violet energy spilling out into the surroundings. It was like a living thing, giving birth.

In the centre, the energy outlined a black shape. A hand reached out of the nether, grabbing the sizzling-hot edge. Wickedly-long talons scraped against the stone. One arm followed, then another. A head emerged, sporting a pair of twisting horns.

Frozen, Al could only look on as the creature extracted itself from the whirlpool, flaring its demonic wings. It was like a living shadow, burning with a grey flame. He didn’t dare move.

The demon held its arms out to its sides. It seemed somehow triumphant, the horns on its head like a crown. Suddenly, the flame covering its body hissed and bubbled. Clouds of smoke poured off it as if it were dry-ice exposed to air.

Shedding its shadow like a cloak, the demon revealed itself to Al’s eyes.

‘She’—without a stitch of clothing on, there was no doubt about that—had a seven-foot-frame, grey-ish off-white like a marble statue. Lean, corded muscle rippled under her skin with every tiny movement. Her hands and feet were black, armoured chitin turning her digits into claws.

The demon turned her eyes to him, featureless and black as ink. Opening her mouth, she revealed rows of needle-like teeth.

“A mortal…?”

A series of notifications appeared at the edge of Al’s vision, but he found he couldn’t look away. He was like a deer in the headlights.

The demoness moved her hand, gesturing toward him. An invisible force appeared, seizing his body in a vice-grip and dragging him toward her. Helpless, he could only watch as she stretched out her hand, taking him by the neck.

Her other hand was pressed against his chest, cold as stone. She felt his heart beating.

Suddenly, she drew back, her blade-like talons rising and falling. Al’s eyes widened in shock as they plunged into his chest, piercing his heart. The blood surging into his throat made it so he couldn’t even scream.

She brought her lips close to his ear, her tone low and raspy.

“For a mere manling to have made it this far… I will reward it with a quick death.”

Al’s body twitched and struggled, like a fish impaled on a spear. He felt the life draining from him along with his blood, running down his torso and legs, soaking his trousers.

He vaguely felt a tongue running across the side of his neck. Rows of needle-like teeth sunk into his flesh. Sealing the wound, the demon drank his blood like nectar from a fruit.

And drank. And continued drinking.

Seconds turned into minutes, but somehow, Al’s blood-supply didn’t diminish. Neither did he die. He simply hung from her claws like a rag-doll, too weak to move or cry out.

The demon realized something was wrong. Her soulless eyes widening, she drew her head back, looking at his face. Her expression was almost comical, her lips rounded into an ‘O’.

“It lives still. Has it been given power-…?”

She withdrew her claws from Al’s chest, releasing his neck. He dropped to the ground.

Astonishingly, motes of blue light coalesced out of the air, entering his wounds. At a speed visible to the naked eye, the flesh regrew and closed up. Colour returned to his face, having been white as a sheet of paper.

Clutching his chest with a shaking hand, Al sat up. Breathing raggedly, drops of sweat beaded on his face, haunted by the phantom pain.

He wasn’t surprised by this turn of events. In the game, no matter how injured heroes were, their wounds would be healed upon returning to the Nexus. After waking up, he realized the scratches on his chest—left by the monster from before—were entirely gone.

Forcing his mind to action, Al thought fast. He didn’t know what her motivations were for trying to kill him. Right now, it didn’t matter. He needed to find a way to save himself.

He briefly considered pretending to be a mysterious figure with hidden powers, but that was a terrible idea. The truth of his ‘immortality’ would be revealed soon enough. He was too weak to avoid getting injured outside the Nexus.

He had no choice but to partially reveal his hand.

“You shouldn’t… try to kill me. I can be useful to you.”

The demoness’ eyes flashed. His submissiveness seemed to have dispelled her momentary caution.

Bending over—and involuntarily showing off a pair of very spectacular tits—she grabbed his wrist. Her talons scraped his palms, drawing bloody lines across the surface.

“…this mortal has the fingers of a scholar. Soft. Weak.”

Wrenching his arm painfully, she drew his face closer to hers, close enough to smell the blood on her breath.

Al could only twist awkwardly so she didn’t break his arm. Since getting this body, he exercised regularly. However, it was only recreational. There was no way he’d have the toughness of someone doing backbreaking labour, or a real ancient warrior.

Seeing him remain meek, the demoness grew more emboldened. Again, she bit into his neck.

Her toned, curvaceous body pressed flush against him, but there was nothing erotic about it. The only thing occupying Al’s mind was the searing pain of needle-teeth puncturing his flesh, and the feeling of his blood being drawn through his veins.

For Al, the minutes dragged on like hours, trapped in a haze of pain and delirium. His blood replenished as fast as she consumed it, but it wasn’t enough to keep his consciousness from blurring.

The demoness didn’t withdraw her teeth until she was entirely satisfied.

“It is a tasty morsel, but… that is not enough.”

Al protested weakly, his vision swimming.

“I can be a guide. I know-…”

Not giving him a chance to finish, the demoness shook him violently. Droplets of his blood splattered onto the cobblestones.

“It is presumptuous. Does it believe one such as ‘I’ do not know the nature of this place?”

“…”

Al was overcome by a sinking feeling. His knowledge of the Nexus was all he had. If she didn’t need it, then he was in trouble

For a moment, his eyes dulled, but then he steeled himself inwardly. Maybe she knew some of what he did, but not everything.

“You’ll see. If you… give me a chance.”

The demoness looked at him, and at the wounds slowly mending on his neck. There was some flicker of interest in her eyes.

“Mere cattle should not think of bargaining.”

Suddenly, she wrenched his wrist, a snapping sound echoing in the air.

Al groaned in pain. He would’ve dropped to his knees, but his broken arm was held fast.

“Speak.”

He kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t give her what she wanted. Not like this. If the demoness knew he’d succumb to torture, she wouldn’t hesitate to use it in the future.

Seeing his resistance, her lips curved into a smile. Tightening her grip, she twisted his arm until bone pushed against the skin.

Al could no longer hold back his screams.

“I know well the weak bodies and minds of mortals.”

Al’s eyes tightly shut in pain. His breath came in ragged gasps. Drops of sweat slid down his brow.

[Player ‘Little_Miss_Perfect’ activated the Nexus.]

[Retrieving mission co-ordinates…]

[Preparing heroes for teleportation…]

The portal, barely having cooled after the summoning, started up again. An expanse of galaxies formed there, infinite in number.

Al didn’t have time to relish the shock on the demoness’ face before the two of them dissolved into motes of light, drawn inside and disappearing among the whirlpool of stars.

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There was a sense of unfathomable distance, sucked and squeezed through something thinner than a straw. Unlike before, Al managed to cling to awareness. It benefited him little. He had no idea how long he spent inside that maelstrom of chaos. Seconds, minutes, hours or days. Time lost its meaning.

When the portal expelled him onto a surface of dry, coarse sand, he almost didn’t know who he was, never mind where. Falling onto his hands and knees, he suppressed the impulse to retch. There was nothing in his stomach anyway.

Something thumped on the sand next to him, prompting Al to turn his head. It was a taloned foot, black from nails to ankle. Pale faced and trembling, he looked upward, seeing the demoness stride past him. She had her wings down over her shoulders, wearing them like a cloak.

[Welcome to Tombstone Valley.]

[The town is overrun by undead.]

[Stop the outbreak by killing The Red Witch.]

[This mission has no time limit.]

[Good luck.]

Using a nearby jutting rock as a crutch, he hauled himself to his feet. With his ‘partner’ momentarily distracted, he took the opportunity to evaluate his surroundings.

He didn’t know where ‘Tombstone Valley’ was, nor did he know the identity of ‘The Red Witch’. Aside from a select few missions, the game’s levels were entirely randomized. The player would be able to clear it with a team of common heroes, pulled from 5x White Summoning Crystals—usually—provided after failing the tutorial.

After getting his bearings, Al concluded they were in a desert. There wasn’t much around but rocks, sand and some withered brush. There was still daylight, but it headed toward evening, so the temperature wasn’t unbearable.

Hesitating, he stumbled toward the demoness. They’d be working together for the foreseeable future. If she didn’t kill him, that is.

“Seems like an old mining town.”

Looking over the ridge, he spotted a run-down group of wooden buildings with a distinct western vibe. A dusty old road ran through the middle, winding off into the distance, disappearing under the watery, orange sun.

The demoness’ black, inhuman eyes glanced toward him. She smiled strangely, revealing lips and needle-teeth stained with his own blood. Taking a step closer, she loomed over him, her expression one of barely restrained bloodlust.

“It speaks without being spoken to. Is it brave, or simply a fool?”

Al raised his hands in surrender.

“I-…”

Before he could get a word out, a horrible sensation arose inside his flesh. It was like his blood had congealed to the thickness of syrup. His heart laboured with every beat, and he could barely breathe. His veins protruded like worms under his skin.

She grabbed his face, forcing him to look up at her. He struggled to hear her over the tinny whine in his ears.

“Know your place, mortal.”

She held him there, staring at him with soulless eyes. Her talons cut through his scalp, scraping against his skull. Only when the whites of his eyes turned red, blood leaking from his nose, did she finally let him go.

Al staggered backward, tripping over a rock and falling clumsily onto the sand. He laid there, waiting for the throbbing in his head to subside.

“…”

His anger and fear were like a flash in a pan. What the point of getting upset? To her, none of this was personal. He was just a ‘mortal’. She didn’t even know his name.

Al stayed quiet while he recovered, not even daring to look at her feet. He wasn’t a glutton for punishment.

After a while, he heard the demoness moving, slowly drawing a circle before standing behind him. She grabbed a lock of his shoulder-length hair, tugging his head this way and that.

“Its bleeding hasn’t stopped.”

Al’s lips twitched, feeling blood running down from his scalp. He knew from the beginning he wouldn’t be able to hide it, so he hadn’t tried.

While he was worried about how she’d react after learning the truth, he didn’t fail to note the she wasn’t as knowledgeable as she let on.

“Does it have nothing to say?”

Wrapping the hair around her finger, she yanked hard enough to illicit a grunt of pain.

Al begrudgingly opened his mouth. If it was this much, he would tolerate it. But if she tortured him like before, he would clam up.

“Our injuries won’t heal outside the Nexus.”

Momentarily going quiet, she relaxed her grip on his hair. She was probably thinking.

“Is that so…?”

Her voice turned sweet, almost like she was trying to coax a child. However, instead of putting him at ease, it had the opposite effect. He guessed that was intentional.

“When it spoke so insolently, it mentioned this place. Where is it?”

Al cleared his throat. Though he sounded sombre, inwardly he couldn’t be more relieved. Unless the demoness was trying to deceive him, she hadn’t received the system-prompts.

“Tombstone Valley. The summoner sent us here on a mission.”

“…summoner?”

“The one who controls the Nexus.”

For a while, the demoness didn’t say anything. She simply continued playing with his hair. However, the unevenness of her movements—occasionally nicking his neck and cheeks—suggested a disturbed mental state.

If she did go crazy, Al wished she’d go do it somewhere else. If she killed him outright, then that was that, but he didn’t want to become an unintentional fatality.

“I wonder if it is… trying keep me in check?”

When she spoke again, her mouth had appeared next to his ear. He could feel her teeth lightly biting his earlobe. He had no doubt that if he answered incorrectly, his hearing would suddenly get a lot worse.

He shook his head cautiously.

“I’m not lying. The summoner exists.”

“…how does it know? This one sensed no other presence.”

Al hesitated. Naturally, he wasn’t going to reveal that this was, or, well… used to be a video-game.

“I’ve talked-… no, I received messages. Telling me things.”

The demoness straightened. Strolling around to his front, she put a claw under his chin, forcing him to look up at her. 

Fortunately, she was still covering herself with her wings. Al guessed she didn’t much care about her own nakedness, but he’d rather not be gutted for looking somewhere he shouldn’t.

“What task does this ‘summoner’ have for one such as I?”

Al relayed the mission objective to her.

Upon hearing it, her expression didn’t change, but he detected some… befuddlement. Maybe she expected something else? He had no idea.

“And in exchange for doing this task, will there be a reward?”

Al gave a slow nod.

The demoness’ lips parted, flashing a horrifying smile.

“Tell me, manling.”

“…power.”

Her face distorted, depicting an emotion that could only be described as pure mania. Covering her face with her claws, she turned around, crazy, high-pitched giggles slipping from between her lips.

“The secret of the Great Old Ones... is real!”

She started laughing madly, her raspy voice bouncing off the dry, cracked rock.

Al retreated slowly. Not taking his eyes off the demoness, he cursed Little_Miss_Perfect for pulling such a deranged 'hero'. 

To make matters worse, the damn player hadn’t even given him a set of beginner equipment! It wouldn’t be of much use against his ‘partner’, but would at least provide a sense of security.

‘Are they actually a noob?’

Gritting his teeth, Al reflected that this mission might prove harder than he thought.

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