The Gamer Chapter 1323 – Digging a Hole (Patreon)

On the second day, John made considerably more progress on his building project. The secondary reason was that he had more time. After waking up and having a nice shower on the bus, he went straight to work. The primary reason was that he had a lot more hands on deck.

Over a talk at breakfast, John and the other human haremettes elected to limit their powers in a similar fashion. The superhuman power of an Abyssal was created by the magic flowing through their bodies, so if that flow could be halted, one could return themself to basic strength. It was barely ever employed. Most Abyssals had the necessary self-control to feign mundane capabilities even if they ended up in a situation where their superhuman strength may have given them away.

To John, stopping that flow was as simple as pressing a button. Gaia had equipped him with the necessary mechanics an eternity ago. The main reason he needed it was because Gamer’s Body was a terribly obvious tell that he was not normal if he somehow managed to cut himself. For everyone else, it was a bit more complicated. To limit the flow deliberately was like squeezing a pressurized hose. One either had to have tremendous outside power or a way to diminish the amount of water flowing through.

Rave had the easiest time of it. Fundamentally, this fell within the realm of martial arts and she already knew the basics. Lee figured it out shortly after breakfast. Lorelei and Scarlett followed soon thereafter. Apparently, it was not a tremendously difficult thing to figure out and his girls were immensely talented.

That being said, the Artificial Spirits, the elementals, the goddesses, and Nia were all incapable of diminishing their strength this way. For the Artificial Spirits, Gaia was ‘gracious’ enough to give him the option to do as it was with him. The elementals, the goddesses, and Nia were too steeped in supernatural forces, too based in them, to diminish themselves in the same manner. John would have made the argument that, if the AS were fair game, so were the elementals, but Gaia evidently disagreed.

The depowered status would be reversed at the slightest hint of harmful magic entering their aura or any kind of physical trauma occurring. The shock would end the necessary concentration. Like hitting a fire hydrant with a car, the withheld energy would burst out. Any risk created by maintaining this state was, therefore, negligible.

For the sense of fairness, all those that could not depower themselves were not allowed to participate in the mundane building. Even with that limitation, John had eight more pairs of hands on deck. Of the depowered people only Lorelei did not participate – for obvious reasons.

“This is… an interesting… sensation,” Aclysia panted heavily leaning onto her shovel. Physical exhaustion had befallen her, something she usually was not even capable of. “A terribly… bothersome… sensation….” She swallowed hard. “It impedes my ability to be of use.”

“You’re a massive help already,” John guaranteed her. He did take a large amount of pleasure from the fact that he was getting the most done. Being both stronger and more enduring than them, for a change, continued to tickle all of the prideful and masculine parts of his brain. A distinction without a difference, perhaps, in this specific case.

Larger than that enjoyment was the fulfilment he felt at doing something the normal way. Each swing of his shovel was an honest motion. There was perfection to be achieved with each swing. The dirt piled up inside one of the handcarts, which was then brought to a bit of the property, just several metres away, where they had resolved to put a garden with raised beds. All of that dirt had to serve some purpose.

“Oh my… everything,” Rave gasped and plopped down at the edge of the hole. “How deep do we need to go?”

“I want a basement, so like four metres,” John responded instantly. His girlfriend let out a croaking sound, staring at the progress they had made so far. They had been digging for two hours, with breaks taken individually. Despite that, they weren’t even knee-deep yet. The perimeter demarcated with stakes was twenty metres wide and fifteen deep. Saying that he wanted it four metres deep was saying he wanted them to clear 1200 cubic metres of soil. Using an average of 1,5 metric tonnes per cubic metre, he was asking them to carve a grand total of 1800 tonnes out of the ground.

“Ya wanna kill me?” Rave groaned. She hadn’t run the math, but anyone could guess how long this would take with just mundane hands and how back-breaking it would be.

“Makes you appreciate construction workers a lot more, doesn’t it?” the Gamer responded with a smirk. “And they don’t even get oral breaks.” Lazily, he gestured towards a table where a bunch of bottles of water had been lined up. Next to it was another table on which Sylph, Lorelei, and Undine lay, in their human disguises where necessary and stark naked. Lorelei was currently on her back, her tongue deep inside Momo.

Whoever could not or should not shovel still made for a wonderful break entertainment. Everyone not present was either on the Abyssal side or preparing snacks.

“Makes me realize why people normally don’t fuck 24/7, I got no energy to be more than a starfish,” Rave groaned. “Anyway, how deep are we actually digging?”

“One metre maximum,” John informed her. He needed to do some prep work for the concrete slab but that did not require that much space. “Building a house without a basement will be complicated enough for a first timer like me. Blessed be video tutorials. This’ll be the easiest part when it comes to digging though.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Rave asked, suspicious.

John rammed his shovel into the floor and stretched. “Alright, break time, the patriarch of the household is going to explain something to y’all,” the Gamer drawled. The attempt to mimic a southern accent caused chuckles and rolled eyes. “What do you all think is the most important thing we need to figure out for our house?”

“Electricity,” Aclysia responded immediately.

“That is what someone who doesn’t need to drink would say,” the Gamer commented drily. He pointed at Lee.

“Running water?” the young Fateweaver answered the obvious.

“Bingo. Next question, where does the water go?” It was interesting to see a bunch of geniuses, all of them city-dwellers, struggle with the question for a few seconds. Everyone’s mind immediately went to the sewage system. Then they remembered that there was no sewage system this far out. Who would lay the necessary pipes for that to connect a few dozen households to a run-off? It was not economical at all.

“…I hate this,” Scarlett groaned, crossing her arms.

John wanted to mock her for not knowing, but he only had really found out about this because he had been researching everything regarding rural architecture in recent weeks. Even if she was an engineer, why would she ask herself how things were solved out here? “The answer is pretty simple: there’s a tank. A septic tank. The run-off dissolves through the normal biological process and then is seeped out at a controlled pace.”

“Wouldn’t that reek like hell?” Lee asked.

“Guess what the solution to that is?” John gave her a hint by waving his shovel around. There was near universal groaning. Scarlett and Lee were by far the loudest, indoorsy types that they were. Despite being a bookworm, Momo was one of the few not making a sound. Digging was in her general ballpark, as an archaeologist. “The good news is that I ordered an excavator for that. I’m not torturing you all to dig out the drain field.”

“Then why the fuck are we digging at all?!” Scarlett asked, more agitated than she was during an attempt at a hostile company buyout.

“Easier to get the wanted depth for something so shallow. Plus, it’s a nice experience,” the Gamer responded. Everyone lending a hand did so of their own volition. John wanted to dig, to force anyone else to do it with him would have been against his haremette codex. “Anyway, how about we take an actual break? Two hours, then we keep going.”

“Sounds fantastic,” Claire chirped. Although she was no less exhausted than the rest of them, she was coping the best. Considering what kind of manual labour she had to do to survive prior to her turning into a Natural Spirit, this was a relaxing activity to her.

They walked away from the digging site and switched to the Abyssal side. There, the campfire had been transformed into an improvised grill – with John’s express permission. The arrival of everyone was the signal Salamander needed to excitedly walk towards the mana-powered fridge and retrieve a couple dozen cuts of meat.

While she did that, everyone else sat down on the lawn, on blankets, or in foldable camping chairs. There was chatter and rolled shoulders. The feeling all around reminded John of a school trip, except he appreciated being where he was. Rave likened it more to an open-air festival, but he had never been to one of those.

The casual mood only increased after Rave marched to the second fridge and pulled out a can of beer. “Anyone else want some?” she asked, to which almost everyone who could drink raised their hand. “…Yeah, I ain’t serving all of ya. Aclysia?”

“At once.” The weaponized maid groaned as she rose back to her feet. Exhaustion did not prevent her from serving. Besides, even though her current state allowed her to experience exhaustion, it was not going to be long-lived. Sores and blisters did not even surface. The self-nerfing was only so effective. For the same reason, continuing to dig would not be an issue after two hours of break.

“You’re the best,” John told Aclysia when she handed him his can first. The simple compliment made a smile bloom on her face. She was so delightfully cut-out for the housewife life.

Maximillian had advised against drinking at a party. That time had thoroughly passed and it was absolutely acceptable to day-drink on his property. The Gamer had a feeling he would be drinking more casually in the coming month than ever before.

Seldom did he have a beer that tasted as good as this one. It was a generic store brand, middle of the price range courtesy of the stores around here not selling the ‘high class’ stuff. It was the hard work and the southern state warmth that made it delicious. The smell of sizzling meat caressed his nostrils.

Just when he thought all was right with the world, Nathalia decided that she had a different kind of hunger that needed to be sated. “Get those pants off,” she demanded. Only a fool resisted the demands of a goddess with tits like that, so the Gamer’s clothes were swiftly in his inventory. The only surprise about what happened next was that aforementioned chesticles were not involved. Nathalia dropped to her knees and gave his cock a couple of kisses. Once he was fully erect, she took it all the way into her throat.

The dragoness moaned. The Gamer could almost read the thoughts past her fluttering eyelids. They usually were so clean that even the fresh sweat from a couple of hours of work provided a novel spice to their love life. Cleanliness that John aimed to retain, by and large. Fresh sweat was one thing, stale odour and grime was definitely off the table. Any kind of dirtiness to his dick was the most certain way for the Gamer to refuse the opportunity to get a blowjob. He would not have his girls taste any kind of filth.

A blowjob was a treasured opportunity, even as a man who got hours of them on a daily basis. They should be treated as such.

While John enjoyed Nathalia’s expert attention, conversation around the campfire drifted from here to there. It was a scorching 26 degrees and it promised to get even warmer. Clouds were drifting by above, moved by fairly strong winds. When the sun shone through the covers, it was intense. “Gnome, could you create a pavilion or something like that?” the Gamer requested.

“S-sure,” the season elemental responded. Not three minutes later, a ring-shaped structure had been erected. It was a few metres out from the grill, so people that wanted the sun (like Rave) could still get it. “It’s going to get hotter, by the way…” Gnome said. “Is that too much?”

“No, the same day is largely fine,” John responded. Another aspect of his vacation was that he didn’t want to look at weather reports. Actual farmers obviously checked what the weather station said and planned their schedules and sprinkling intensity accordingly. To John, who wanted this to be as much an adventure as possible, being caught off guard by sudden changes in the weather would be nice.

It amused John that an unexpected thunderstorm was more of a hurdle to him than access to entirely different worlds. He could plan those out however he wanted. The magical became the mundane and the mundane the magical.

“While we’re talking about the weather,” the Gamer continued from there, “can I ask which one of you is dealing with the hurricane dragon business?” Since they had struck the agreement that he would leave the majority of that line of work to them, he did have to ask that.

“We should get reliable data next month,” Scarlett responded, answering his question indirectly. “May is tornado month. Last year was far below the average, this year already looks more turbulent. Doubtlessly thanks to our target.”

Hurricane dragon implied a different kind of destructive gale than tornados. It could have been that the category was poorly named and encompassed a variety of dragons that only had in common that they used wind as their primary force. It could also have been that it spawned inland and just went for the next best thing. If the one they were supposed to find followed the same body-plan as Tilgun, then the creature was going to be immensely annoyed by its lack of land mobility. Annoyed, recently formed dragons were prone to make the kind of destructive decision that would lead to a sudden upswell in tornados.

‘Gaia really just should make it so these beings spawn in with the knowledge that they will get smited if they pull any stunts in the mundane world,’ the Gamer sighed, not just from the blowjob he was still getting, ‘but that’s probably against her non-involvement policy. If she gives people this kind of life saving knowledge, why not something else? Personally, I think she should make an exception for a system she herself has put in place. Then again, her smiting all of the creatures malevolent enough to take this route means that the few that make it through are typically capable of coexistence, so it kind of works out?’

“What’s the plan for the next couple of days? More digging?” Momo wanted to know.

“We’ll hopefully get done with the digging for the foundation tomorrow,” the Gamer told her. “Then I have to pour in gravel, compact it, outline the areas for the slabs, mix the cement, spread the cement… well, I gave you the spiel before,” he stopped himself. “In general? Lots of digging, yes. I think I’ll take the day after pouring the slab off completely though. That stuff needs to harden.”

“Mundane building materials are so cumbersome,” Siena commented.

“I know, right?” the Gamer responded happily.

“Why does that fill you with such joy?”

“Well, just think about where humanity got with what mundanes have on hand. Magic and all that is extremely fascinating. Finding methods to shape the world with your will, that’s a fantasy come true. You just have to admire the will of the average person though. Iteration for iteration, generation for generation, slowly improving what they have been given.” The Gamer smiled contently. “Just makes me happy to be in touch with the hardship of the normal human.”

“I totally get that,” Rave threw in. “I mean, the digging is hell, but it’s also kinda grounding?”

“I’d rather just pay a fucker,” Scarlett stated and inspected her nails. “Construction is low skill labour. It’s cheap. It’s the sex work for men. Every man can dig.”

“What do you do with those that can’t?” John asked Scarlett teasingly.

“Why would I do anything with them? They aren’t my problem,” Scarlett answered in her typical, amoral fashion. The honest indifference of the technomancer was always refreshing to John. Much could be said for her lack of empathy. The Gamer didn’t care to say any more than he already had to her on other occasions. She was neither a moral nor an immoral actor, she had her clear business principles and stuck by them. That may have made her ruthless and cold, but it also made her predictable and ultimately a force for good. Scarlett did not break her own code of conduct for a quick buck. She was rigid in very interesting ways.

“Well, for the moment, they wouldn’t be my problem either,” John said, avoiding the conversation of what role the state should have in providing for the crippled. Those were work thoughts.

Instead, he leaned back and enjoyed the shade.