A Gamer's Guide 194 (Patreon)

My eyes slowly move over the message.

…I’m on the twenty-second floor now, huh? That explains what the god of cruelty was on about. This.

A warm hand rubs my shoulder and I look to see Scar, still looking at me, his fatherly worry shining through an appropriately scarred face. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Across the table, through mouthfuls of gruel, Nazzo pipes up, “Yeah, what did the thing say? Does it say something funny?”

I look away from Nazzo and back to the status message. It’s still floating there, demanding a reaction from me. Maybe it wants me to be indignant, throw a tantrum, cry and scream like a child or even flip the table. I’m sure that’s what Cruelty wants me to do, at least.

With a wave of the hand, the status screen disappears. “It was nothing,” I say. “Just another hate message.”

“The ones other humans send you?” Cil asks curiously. I nod at him, taking a bite of food. He hums to himself, absently breaking apart a cracker. “Amazing power, that. Sending messages across the world without the need for flapping fiend or post-carrier… If every stupid king had that ability, there’d be a damn lot less wars going on, I’m sure of it.”

Under my breath, I mutter, “I wouldn’t be so certain.”

As Cil resumes his musings about the use of instant messaging across continents, I pull up my status screen, quickly flipping over to the shop menu. And right up there in the corner, where it usually says something like ‘negative X million points,’ there’s nothing but a single line. ‘N/A.’

I don’t know why I feel surprised that the whole deliberation actually made any changes.

So, from now on, I can’t gain any points. But I also can’t lose any.

…Does this mean that my inventory won’t be emptied after every floor? I can actually put things in there without them disappearing?

My fingers brush against the fabric of my pant pocket, feeling a small satchel of coins jingle.

…Maybe this isn’t too bad. One of the points brought up in the deliberation also said that instead of receiving points, I’d get items and skills. The latter being the important thing to me. Considering that I’ve spent close to two years without needing to use points, not being able to use them isn’t much of a loss. And not having to hear the gods booing me every floor isn’t too bad either.

And all of this because a single goddess decided to repay a little favor. What has the world come to?

“Alright, work calls! Let’s get to it, friends!” Coda calls, as he does every day. Moving by routine instinct, I begin gathering the plates. This week, I’m on dish duty. With the way things are looking though, I’m bound to do dish duty for a good bit longer. After all, I’m the only one who can do the dishes without needing gloves.

With all the steel plates and metal cutlery and cups in hand, I head to the kitchen. Well there, I put the plates to the side while opening up the dish locker, not even wincing as a puff of two-hundred-degree smoke escapes the insulated metal box. Seems like the pots and pans are done charring, so I grab them, carry them over to the dish pit, and replace their spot in the dish locker with the plates, cups and cutlery. With that done, I begin the only slightly gruelling work of scrubbing the pots and pans with crystal moss to remove the charred and burnt pieces of leftover food. A simple wipe-down with a dish rag ensures that they are ready to be used again for dinner. It usually takes an hour or so for the dish locker to burn everything off, so while that’s going on, I head back to the deck to continue tar duty.

As I intermittently scrape and sweep the deck, I absently listen to Cir and Nazzo discussing the best ways to crack open crabs. I keep sweeping, trying to hear what fantasy aspect makes their crabs different from Earth crabs. Nazzo complains about how he once got pinched by a crab while trying to go skinny dipping, dropping his towel in the process and being made a fool of by the rest of the village youths. So, they still have pincers. And since it didn’t pinch off his toe, it’s fair to assume it’s normal crab-size.

“How was I supposed to see it? It looked like all the other rocks!”

Rock-shape, pincers, small, edible, requires opening to eat…

Crabs are the same here as on Earth, then. What a quaint realization. Then again, considering everything, this place has more in common with Earth than it doesn’t. Both have a breathable atmosphere, enough dirt to go around, and people who will have a heated argument about whether you’re supposed to eat the goop inside the crab’s head or not. Ah, the wonders of life.

“What do you think, Kitty?”

I look up from where I stand, scratching my head a little before answering. “Well, the only time I’ve ever eaten crabs, I ate the entire thing with shell and all…” But I wasn’t exactly in a good state of mind back then, so if they gave me a crab now, I might eat it with more manners.

Nazzo nods a bit while Cir shakes his head and grumbles about how it doesn’t count.

The smaller goblin, on the other hand, is far more positive to my primal feeding habits. “Yup, yup. Exactly! More flavor, and with the shell… More nutrients! My sister used to say that eating eggshells made your bones stronger, and I agree. After all, I haven’t broken a bone yet!”

“She only said that to see if you’d actually do it, which you did. And then she didn’t have the heart to tell you it wasn’t true.”

Arms crossed, Nazzo shows no sign of backing down. “But I haven’t broken a bone yet. Unlike a certain someone.” Considering the insufferable smirk on Nazzo’s face, it’s amazing that Cir can restrain himself from personally changing that fact.

I return to sweeping, and later that evening, I visit Coda in his room to talk.

The room is dark, mostly lit by a crystal lamp, though the moons outside are almost brighter. The floor rocks gently beneath my bare feet, as it always does. I haven’t had to chew on a tripseed for almost half a month now, and by now, the gentle bobbing of the ship—the Frisky Lady, or Frisk for short—feels more soothing than it does nauseating. While standing in the doorway, I let the rocking calm my anxious heart as I watch Coda where he sits at his desk.

After a second or two, he looks up from his papers, smiling as he notices me in the darkness. “And there you are, Kitty. Silent as your namesake, and just as much of a shadow when you want to be.” He stands up, walks a few steps across the room and grabs a stool for me to sit on, bringing it over to his desk so we can sit facing each other. “Come, take a seat. I believe you said we have business to discuss?”

“Yes,” I choke out. “Business.”

I sit down. He sits down. We stare at each other. I really want him to say something first but this meeting was called by me, so it’s my responsibility to—

“Whoa!”

Startled, I jump a little. “Wh—what is it?”

He blinks at me, amusement shining in his eyes. “For a moment there, you perfectly melded with the darkness. I couldn’t even tell you were there! Can all humans do that?”

“No, not really.”

“I see. A shame. I would have loved to form a human hit squad to use such abilities for the betterment of the Evil Claw. With a few more yills in our purses, we could buy a new figure piece with no problem!”

“I don’t think a new figure piece should be our number one priority,” I say warily, remembering how last night a stray bit of tar burned an unwaxed part of the sail again.

He frowns before turning away, like a reluctant toddler. “I suppose…” Then, with a shake of the head, he looks back at me, smile reinstated. “So! What business did you have to discuss?”

“Oh, yeah, right, it’s…” I gulp and look down at my lap. Clothes. Pants, actually. Not the most comfortable or anything, but Coda personally altered them to be long enough for me to wear. Same as the shirt I’m wearing. I swallow down a lump again and look up at him, steeling what little spirits I have left. “It’s about my membership in the Evil Claw Pirates.”

He tilts his head. “What of it?”

“I’d like to join properly.” I inhale sharply. “To be a real member.”

His brows furrow, a pause hanging between us for several long seconds. “...But you already are?”

“No, I mean, like…” I make a few movements in the air. “Properly. I want to actually be one of you. Not just a tag-along, until-later kind of deal.” He tries to say something, so I quickly continue my piece, “Yeah, sure, you made a show of my joining the Evil Claw pirates, but that was just for the other members, to justify my brief stay with you, so they wouldn’t treat me badly. You didn’t actually make me a real member. But…” A deep breath, to give myself the strength to continue speaking. My eyes are on my lap, on my balled fists. “I want to change that. I don’t want to leave you guys. Not yet. Maybe… Maybe never.”

When I look back up, I flinch back at the face he’s making. I’m not sure when I last saw a face so worried as his. His brows pinched together, lips twisted into a slight frown, his attention fully on me. And in a small, almost grieving voice, he asks, “How long have you been feeling this way?”

“What way?”

And now it’s his turn to steel himself. “That you haven’t been one of us.”

I blink at him. Something in my chest drops. Ah. I said something wrong. My face falls to my lap again. “I—I didn’t…” I shake my head. That isn’t right. “Never, I guess…”

The deep, heartfelt sigh of relief that leaves his lips rends my heart worse than a knife to the chest. “Good, that’s good. I had been worried that I may have pulled you along too quickly, but when you fell into the rhythm, I could tell you enjoyed it, so I thought…” He shakes his head, and before I can understand what’s happening, he suddenly lowers it, giving a small bow where he sits. “I’m sorry. I should have been more open with you. I simply assumed that you were happy to go along with it, and…”

“No, no, you don’t have to apologize, it’s fine, really—”

A sharp glare slits through the air and I freeze where I sit. “Please,” he says. “Let me take responsibility for my actions.” There is no room for argument. No possibility of disrespecting him further by refusing his apology. No way for me to disobey my captain. His eyes are clear and he raises his head, a light smile on his lips. “I’m glad to hear you’d be willing to stay, even if you didn’t feel that you had full agency in your joining. Would you like us to hold a proper party to commemorate you joining us fully?”

“Ah, uh, no, that won’t be needed. I just, well…” I can’t help but smile. Honesty is a wonderful thing, isn’t it? “I’m glad to hear that you’re okay with me joining. I was afraid that you’d be against me being a real member, since I’m, you know…” A human? A murderer? A cannibal? A crown-killer? I chuckle bitterly. “Me.”

All he gives me is a soft smile as he reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder. Warm. As warm as his gaze. “That’s the best part about you.”

And weirdly enough, if only because he’s the one saying it, because my captain says so, I can’t find it in myself to disagree.

That night, for the first time in maybe forever, I felt as though I truly belonged.