Otherworld Delinquent - Chapter 33 (Patreon)

The small fire crackled within the cave’s mouth–illuminating the darkness within. The light flickered against the walls as Noah absentmindedly gazed at the blazing fire. It was dancing, like it had a mind of its own. It was so small, yet the heat it provided was so warm. The flame was displaying its grandeur as Noah was absorbing himself within it.

Excitement. It was a strange feeling. He had listened to other survivalists back on Earth talk about their experiences within a survival situation. About how such a small fire could rekindle hope within oneself when there wasn’t much to begin with.

But was that really the source of the joy he felt?

Maybe it was the heat radiating off of the flame-licked branches.

Maybe it was his recently fed stomach. Gorging himself until he couldn’t fit another morsel in his mouth, lest he would puke it all out from over-consumption.

Or maybe it was the fact that he had survived another day.

Noah wiped the grease from his mouth. Evidence of the wolf meat he had filled himself on. It wasn’t tough–probably because of his increased jaw Strength. It was crunchy to begin with, sure, but there was meat in there that was soft. After chewing a good few times.

“Maybe I’m just a great cook, huh Krall?” Noah glanced at his pet, only to witness him biting into a charred piece of bark–only to reveal a deep, overly-done steak. Cooked anymore, and it could be used to begin some ancient cave drawings.

Was it that bad? Noah took a second glance. It was bad. Although he had it worse in the past. Far worse. Burnt steak was actually considered a delicacy to Noah. It was the uncooked scraps that he had to once eat that sent a shiver deep down the lower part of his spine.

Shaking his head, he had figured out the reason for his excitement.

Of course it wasn’t something so trivial like having a warm fire. Too many days he had spent without the warmth of one, so he had gotten used to the cold eventually. Starting a fire in the city was illegal.

No, it was another upgrade. Another piece to his strength.

Noah gazed at the system message he had received before filling his starving stomach.

[Thrust] has reached the peak of Level 1.

| [Thrust] Evolution mission obtained - [Thrust] - Level Two

| Conditions for completion: Kill 30 monsters with [Thrust], Kill a monster at Level 10 with [Thrust].

| Conditions met.
| [Thrust] Level 1 -> [Thrust] Level 2
| [Thrust] Level 2: Damage is minimally increased.

Well, it was rather anticlimactic. However, he was expecting it. Common Skills were slow to grow into their strengthened counter-parts and each Level up provided only a small bonus.

You are being watched.

| Alex, the Anomaly Hunter has sponsored you.

| Grace Coins added.

Wait, an anomaly hunter? Noah perked up at the information. The fact that he had that as his Title meant that the Anomalies weren’t just a part of the tutorial–but something much larger.

Did they exist past the tutorial on other worlds?

The question made him ponder for a moment. Before he was taken, the System Administrator had notified them they were being brought into a new world. Where he was right now. But what if the previous world–Ubos–was just a test?

Was Ruaturn the final product? That could easily mean that it wasn’t just one planet that was the playing field–but many.

Noah’s shoulders trembled as a smirk curled up on his lips. It was getting a whole lot more interesting. Noah stood up. Now that he had filled his stomach, it was time to make a move.

Of course that meant more levels. Stage two of his plan was right around the corner. He had to obtain his Profession Class now that he was above Level ten–Fishing.

Noah and his friends had debated for a long time on what he should aim for. At first he personally wanted to obtain the resource gathering Skill; Mining. After all, metals were expensive, but the others adamantly refuted his suggestion.

Next up was Skinning. It made sense considering that he would be killing the beasts anyway, it was casting a stone and hitting two targets at once. It was efficient. However, the others also denied that suggestion. Apparently it was just better carrying the beasts back and making someone else do it as there was a better method.

They had theorised endlessly and came to a conclusion. Fishing. It synergized well with his need for freedom. It was a Skill that made use of exploration and it relied entirely on the Strength of the user. After all, this was an alien world, not Earth.

The high tiered fishing spots were in some of the most dangerous areas the planet had to offer. Even more-so on Ruaturn–so he guessed, anyway. The higher the quality of fish, the higher the Level, the more experience they gave when he killed them. It was essentially the same as hunting beasts on land.

Fishing also had another unique element to it. There was a chance at obtaining equipment cache’s. Randomised loot of any rarity. Of any Class. Of course it was a rare chance, but a chance nonetheless.

And finally, the last use of Fishing for Noah. Taming. Not all monsters could be tamed through sheer domination of strength. Just like humans, there were some methods that just worked better. And that was where high quality food came into play. It not only offered to fill their stomach, but it could also help them evolve to the next stage.

Some would do anything to chase power. Even bending its will to a human.

Noah was well aware that the Fishing Profession wasn’t a rarity when it came to certain locations in the tutorial. Especially since they were right next to the ocean. That meant he had to make use of the fact he was currently one of the first to reach level ten, and gain the World First Titles for himself.

Although he wasn’t exactly sure what he would gain from them, he could make an educated guess.

Proficiency bonuses, bonus to damage against fished monsters, speed of casting, etc. His friends had gone over everything, now it was his turn to put it all into practice.

Of course, he first had to make a fishing-rod.

***

Noah had cobbled together the supplies he had received from the small village. Namely the fish hooks and string. After that, all that was left was just attaching it to a long pole. There was no mechanical gear capable of winding in the caught fish, rather, he would just need to use his increased strength in place of it.

It wasn’t a big deal. After all, he almost had fifty whole points of Strength coursing through his body now thanks to the equipment he had. No mechanical gear could possibly win against his manual pull.

Level 5 - Crudely Made Fishing-Rod: Made without much knowledge, this rudimentary tool is one step away from breaking. Only because of the strong nature of the wood will it hold.

Better than nothing. Noah shrugged. He was never really good with his hands. Unless it was swinging a club or punching. It was probably another reason his friends had vehemently refuted his suggestions of being a crafter.

Assholes. Noah smirked as he remembered everyone sitting around him back at their house. Paper was strewn all over the place. They had even stapled pieces of paper to the wall; all filled with notes about his volunteering.

Peter, the smartest of them all, was always embarrassed when his mum would open the door and offer them all treats and refreshments. Embarrassing, or humiliating for him. But it only filled Noah with a rare warmth as he watched his mum try her best.

If only he had received that. Noah shook his head, instantly shooting away the thought. He had managed so far on his own.

“Well, I’m not alone anymore, am I?” Noah placed his hand on Krall’s solid skull. The soft scales were no longer present.

Krall tilted his head with his tongue stuck out his mouth halfway.

“Let’s go.” Noah tightened the straps to his bag. He had already taken back his mace from Krall and strapped it to his belt.

Noah returned to the golden beaches of Ruaturn. The other survivors had already left, as evidenced by the countless number of footprints imprinted into the fine sand. His thoughts turned to Calum’s shout as he fled the scene.

The leader most likely wanted them to work together. Again. But Noah had no intentions of that. Besides, having just received a Rare piece of equipment from the anomaly, he could only imagine the welcoming gestures. Only to receive a dagger to the throat while he was sleeping.

No, he was fine by himself.

He approached a rocky outcrop that branched out into the ocean. The rocks were jagged and treacherous. From a small hole, a small set of pinscors snapped at Noah’s passing feet.

Taking his foot back at the sudden attack. Noah [Thrust] his spear at the monster within the hole. It was obviously low level as the spear shot through its carapace like it was a paper towel.

You defeated a - Level 4 Snapping Crab.

Serves you right, what would I do without my toes? Noah couldn’t help but wriggle his feet in his deteriorating shoes. They were muddy and had already started tearing at the seams from the constant sprinting and fighting.

It wouldn’t be long until he needed to upgrade them. Survival rule #14, always wear appropriate footwear. Noah swore he could hear Miles’ constant rules bombard his ear canals.

***

Two weeks before Noah’s volunteering. Back on Earth at the command centre; Noah’s preparation for volunteering.

Noah was resting on the table that had papers littered all over it. His arms were crossed and his head used them as a pillow. One arm was completely covered in tattoos, the other, visible scars were on display. His light breathing was drowned out by an incessant and never ending spray of rules.

A group of young men around the same age as Noah were busy writing things on the wall as they kept on glancing at the TV. The broadcast for the Otherworld–Ubos–was playing.

Miles was going over the rules once more. He wore spectacles and had dark skin. His body was tall, akin to a beanstalk, but it was a frail one.

“#1 rule, find a water source and protect it. #2, find shelter and defend it. #3… Noah you oaf–!” Miles grabbed his slipper and thwacked Noah across the head with it.

Noah snapped his head up. His wild eyes glared at Miles, but despite Noah’s wild appearance and the stark difference between them, Miles didn’t waver in the slightest.

Noah rubbed the back of his head. “Do you need to hit me so hard?”

“Oh i’m so sorry I want my friend to stay alive during their suicide volunteering mission.” Miles said with a sharp sarcasm.

“Miles,” Noah sighed, “you’ve gone over these rules for the past few months, I can recite them as if they are the gospel at this point.”

“Good, then that means that even your pig headedness can retain information,” Miles said, but followed it up with a slight wry smile. “The rules will save your life, but in the end it’s all up to you. Do you really need to do this–”

“Miles, don’t make light of Noah’s determination. You should know him by now.” Peter said over his shoulder from the wall.

Peter was the smartest of them all. He was the one who had theorised multiple classes. Although Noah was hell bent on going the Mounted-Tamer route. Peter helped him with it. And everything else for that matter. From his training in the streets, to what Skills he should obtain, to obtaining the World First Titles.

If Noah was the General, Peter and the others were the strategists behind his movement.

***

Guys. I will succeed and thrive. Noah clenched his hand around his fishing rod and casted the wormed bait into the ocean.

After a few hours, he still hadn’t caught anything, yet a crackling within the air caused Noah’s lips to lift into a grin. A green Pathstone with the picture of a man and a fishing-rod was etched into the stone.

Noah accepted it without a moment's hesitation.

You have obtained the Uncommon - Profession Pathstone - Colossal Fishing.

You have gained a World First achievement!

“Let’s go!” Noah pumped his fist into the air. He had made it.