A Gamer's Guide 196 (Patreon)

With an unwilling but submitted Nazzo on top of my shoulder, I head down into the hull. I would’ve been more wary of a possible ambush if I hadn’t been able to smell exactly what was going on down there. Going by the scents of metal and weapons, I was dealing with seven guards, two civilians, one mage, and… a human. Yeah, a human.

And you’d think this would explain the whole familiar scent deal, but it actually doesn’t. The familiar scent is up in the captain’s cabin, where I would have liked to go if I hadn’t been given clear and obvious orders. Instead, I’m heading down here to do away with a few loose ends.

The guards are waiting in an ambush, so before I head down, I set down Nazzo and tell him to wait in the staircase while I handle it.

His brows scrunch up. “Wasn’t I supposed to come along?”

Humming, I shrug my shoulders. “Well, yeah, but I think I’d prefer to know that you were safe than have you in the way. Just scream if someone comes at you, okay?”

Hesitant but trusting, he nods. “Um, okay.”

“Great. I’ll be right back!”

Coda probably sent him with me to act as a lookout and to ensure I left a few of them alive enough to be used as hostages, but with a human down here, I don’t think I want him put in harm’s way. Humans can be very frightening fighters, after all—I, if anyone, should know. If Coda knew what I know about humans, I’m sure he’d agree with my decision.

After only a bit of moving down, I emerge into the hull, which isn’t quite as freezing as they usually are. No, unlike the artificially cooled hull of the Frisky Lady, this one is almost room temperature. It feels weird. Also unlike the hull I’m used to, this one isn’t used to store food and grain, but rather appears to be mainly taken up by a row of cells on each side, making for a total of six, though only one is occupied. Since the hull is rather small, it’s a bit crowded, with three guards protecting the wizard, two more at the front, and a pair of turnkeys huddling behind the wizard. A fun ensemble, all things considered.

Either way, as soon as I enter into it, a pair of halberds stab into my stomach and chest. To pay the guards back, I reach out and rip out their carotid arteries. Blood sprays, and I’m once again covered in RED. Two down, five left. Not counting the—

<Stop.>

…Wizard. I turn to him.

<Stop broken.>

Ah, that’s a pretty good facial expression. His robes are pretty nice, though, so I’d like to loot them afterwards. Once I bear the floor, they’re sure to sell for—

I shake my head.

…Once I bring them back to Taintshore, I’ll be sure to get at least a few dozen yills for it, which I can then trade for various goods and services. Yeah, that’s it.

Anyhow, my strategy is simple and the same one I’ve used for over two years now.

I go for the wizard.

Dropping on all fours, I dash across the floor, scurrying between legs and hastily stabbing halberds before emerging at the wizard. He tries to shoot some kind of spell at me, but I’m not really interested in sticking around here for too long. If the strongest fighter on this ship happens to be protecting the captain, I’ll need to finish up here quickly so I can in order to assist Coda.

So, I leap up and grab the wizard’s throat, smashing him onto the deck as soon as I have him. He gasps and his eyes go wide and beady, so I knock his skull against the hardwood a few more times. The wood is of very good quality, so with only a bit of effort, his brains soon go splat all across the floor. I was able to avoid getting most of his clothes bloody, so they should still sell fine.

“A—AAAAAAHHH!” one of the guards screams, willingly throwing himself at me, halberd raised and eyes wide. It was almost too easy to reach out and let him impale himself onto my raised arm. That leaves me with only a few guards left.

Since I’ve taken a bit of damage, I do away with one of them by biting clean through their neck, my improved tooth skill easily shearing through skin, sinew and bone like it’s nothing. Crunch crunch crunch, swallow, and the wounds I took heal for the most part. For the sake of on-the-go snacking, I bite off one of the arms, carrying it in one hand as I dispatch the final three soldiers, taking a bite of the arm whenever I let them get a hit in. In the end, it’s just me and the turnkeys. Hrm. Should I let them live? Is it worth the effort? I kind of just want to do away with them to spare myself a mild headache, but then Coda might scold me again…

Turning towards the stairs I came down, I shout, “Hey, Nazzo! Coast’s clear!”

While Nazzo warily descends the stairs, I tie up the two turnkeys with a spool of intestine I found in one of the guards, only pausing to swipe one of their key bundles. Once Nazzo arrives in the doorway, I lead them to him where he stands frozen stiff. I hand the end of the goblin-gut rope to him. “Here,” I say, nudging the mostly emptied small intestine to him. “Hold this while I finish up some business.”

Eyes still wide, he takes the rope, probably mainly by instinct, jerking back a little as the rope makes a squishing sound in his gloved fist. He should be able to handle them, though, so I turn back towards the cells.

Let’s see, sniff sniff sniff… Ah, here we go. I stop outside the furthermost cell.

In there, I find a middle-aged black man looking up at me, hands and feet chained together, clad in clothes so tattered you can easily see his thin, bony frame. Did they never feed this guy? Or maybe they don’t know what humans eat?

Before I have time to figure out the answers to these pressing questions, he suddenly stands up, legs shaking like overcooked spaghetti as he takes one, two steps towards me. His face is awash with relief. “Oh, oh, my God, I can’t believe that I’d be rescued by another real person…” Heavy tears streak down his scarred and sunken-in face. “Tell me, did Sail send you? Please, we have to get out of here before—”

And now he’s close enough to see my face. Sure, I’m drenched in blood, but it’s still clear that he recognizes my features, not that I have any idea who he is.

“No fucking way,” he breathes. He stumbles a step back. “How—how are you alive? You—you murderer! How are you alive?! You should be dead! Why the hell are you—”

“Why are you in there?” I ask.

His face twists in confusion. “What are you…?” A tiny shake of the head. “You don’t even know who I am? Why are you…?” With my silence as an incentive, he straightens his back. “I’m Grief. Lieutenant of the Africa Server. As for why I’m here…” His face twists into a snarl. “I can only imagine how much you relate to my position. Except, unlike me, you weren’t falsely accused. Not to mention that your crime was actually killing a king, rather than attempting to.”

“You tried to kill a king?”

“No!” he says. “I didn’t! But oh, no, of course, they wouldn’t believe the human. Never mind that I didn’t even know that little greenskin was supposed to be the king of Acheron. I just happened to be nearby, and that was proof enough to arrest me, stick me on a high-speed ship across the tar sea to be put on trial at the royal court, and treat me like dirt. What a fucking joke. And the server leadership didn’t even try to protect me—me! A lieutenant! What a sick—”

“What level are you?”

“...Pardon?”

“What level are you?”

His lips shape themselves into a frown of confusion more so than suspicion. “I’m level ninety-seven. How so?”

Ah, that’s good. I’m level one hundred and two.

I unlock the cell, step inside, and place my hand against his bare arm.

<[Touch of Reversed Concussion Resistance (Lv.8)]>

<[Touch of Reversed Organ Failure Resistance (Lv.8)]>

<[Touch of Reversed Stroke Resistance (Lv.8)]>

<[Touch of Reversed Internal Damage Resistance (Lv.8)]>

<[Touch of Reversed Bleeding Resistance (Lv.8)]>

<You have learned:

Touch of Reversed Resistance Lv.9>

Ooh, nice! That one’s been a long time coming.

“Wh—what the hell did you—?!” I look up from my status message to watch him falter, stumble and collapse back onto the bench he was sitting on. He’s still alive after that? Impressive. So this is the strength of a level ninety challenger?

Blood trickles down his ears, and his eyes, and then his nose and mouth. He touches a hand to the trail of blood running down his nose, then pulls it back to gawk open-mouthed at his bloodied fingers. “What? What…?” His face twitches in weird, inhuman ways, like a corpse being shocked with electrical pulses. Twitch, twitch. The left side of his face falls and his eyes widen, bigger and bigger. “What did you—”

He tries to stand up, fists balled to attack me, but instead, he falls face-first, collapsing to the floor in a mess of immobile limbs. “I don’t… What happened? What did you do to me? What is happening?” Squatting down, I watch him from up close as he tries to push himself to his feet with trembling arms, a trail of bloody saliva connecting his lower lip to the dirty floor. His legs shake and shiver and his breathing suddenly hitches. “I can’t… why can’t I feel my…” And then he falls again, a raggedy puppet dropped. Limp like a corpse, but still alive. “I can’t… Why… Where…?”

It’s almost starting to be a bit pathetic, so after a bit more of watching him writhe on the floor in painless horror, I stab my hand through his chest, only hearing him mutter a final little, “Mommy…” before he’s properly gone.

<Human Lv.93 Defeated.>

<The Administrators do not endorse

the killing of fellow challengers.>

<Repeated killing of fellow challengers

will result in penalization.>

Oh? Interesting. Anyhow…

I look down at the body below me. It’d be kind of a shame to leave him like this…

Just for the sake of it, I slice off one of his arms. It tastes the same as goblin, which doesn’t surprise me. The lack of nutrition did, unfortunately, leave the flesh rather lean, which isn’t very tasty.

Out in the hull, I find Nazzo, anxiously tapping his foot while still holding the rope to the turnkeys. His eyes light up at seeing me. “Oh, Kitty! Will you take these agai—”

Striding past him, I head up the stairs. “Come on Nazzo,” I say to him. “We don’t want the others to wait for us too long, right?”