B2 - Chapter 8: Let's Play a Game, Part 2 of 2 (Patreon)
Content
With a blink, Logan willed a strip of dirt the size of a firehose inside of his spatial collar. There was an alarming creaking all around them, dust and pebbles raining down as the ground destabilized underneath the snail. Logan didn’t let that discourage him.
With a shout, he stabbed the sword through the hole at the same time as visualizing the Pink Sock launching him into the air. Just like that, a sword became a javelin. It breached through the narrow hole with no resistance, and then thudded against something hard.
Fuck. Had the snail covered its whole body with the shell?
But no, he had just a second to think shit, before the sword pushed through, all four feet, slicing into something that gave it resistance, something that—
At the same time as he heard a pained squeal, a deluge of brown, slimy fluid poured through the hole, covering his facemask, dripping down his armour as if he’d walked into a pool of slime.
Logan dropped down to the bottom of the tunnel, his sword in hand, then scrambled to keep his footing, getting a firm grip and then leaping into the air once again, sword help up like a spear as he stabbed through the hole.
With a slick sound, he stabbed the thing like he was trying to find its guts, slashing back and forth, up and down, side to side. More brown sludge poured into the tunnel, covering his armour in foul smelling… he didn’t want to speculate what.
“Yucky,” said Ernie.
The snail made more pained grunts, but Logan hadn’t received a kill confirmation. He growled. Just how many times did he need to stab this thing?
“The snail’s highest stat is constitution,” said Ernie. “It’s healing as soon as you remove the sword!”
Fuck, Ernie was right.
So much for that strategy. Stabbing this thing repeatedly and getting covered in more and more of this foul shit wasn’t his idea of fun.
“Hold on. Let’s try something else.” Logan let himself drop to the bottom of the tunnel and then he willed in another excavator’s bucket worth of earth, this time going at an angle so that he could tunnel away from the snail. He did it so quickly he felt a tension headache threatening, but he needed to be quick before the snail recovered.
With a leap of his Pink Sock, Logan burst out of the tunnel, launching into the air and away from hell.
Blessed fresh air.
The snail was panting, its slobbering tongue out like it couldn’t get enough air. Brown sludge seeped out of its body and onto the ground, but it had already seen Logan and it was reshuffling its ship shell. But it wasn’t smooth like the ship of the hull yet, it was jagged and at angles. There were even the remains of the ship’s pipes sticking out of the sides.
Meanwhile, the Cursed Rope was at work up above, jumping through the swarm with crackles of electricity. The snakes looked confused, flying around in a disjointed mess. Some had reverted to their more dominate need—mating. More snakes kept pouring in from around the lake, slamming into the swarm and targeting the larger females. Just how many of these buggers were there?
As soon as they noticed Logan again, they’d go back to attacking.
He had seconds here.
Ernie scooted out of his pouch and peered over Logan’s shoulder. “What are we going to do?”
“This.” Logan removed two black chain lengths from his spatial storage. Lara had always accused him of being a packrat, hanging onto everything and stuffing it in his garage. He’d refused to get rid of his old tools even when someone gave him new ones. Back at home, he had boxes of crap stacked up on shelves as high as the ceiling.
But in the apocalypse, his habit had come in handy.
Before he’d left the strength trial, he’d grabbed these chains; not knowing why, but knowing he might need them in the future. They shone, glistening, not looking like any metal found on Earth, with an aura that exuded strength. Built to be unmalleable. Unbreakable.
“Oho! Y-you think you can defeat me like some pathetic homegrown garden snail?” the snail said, coughing. Its antennae were drooping, its fleshy skin pale, but sharp teeth covered in brown sludge still protruded from its grinning mouth. “My name is Pestilence, I’m unending, unkillable! But thank you for coming back. The lack of a meal made me sad. I’ll enjoy gnawing through your bones.”
Logan gave it a narrow-eyed glare. “Pestilence, was it? You’ll regret fucking with us.”
Kicking off with his Pink Sock clad foot, Logan launched himself into the air, the chain lengths rattling behind him. The Cursed Rope surged and crackled with blue electricity as if wanting to join in on the fun.
Logan had one trajectory in mind. That protruding pipe. Flying like an eagle, he hurtled toward it, bouncing off the snail’s hard shell before dropping and aiming directly for the pipe. Logan wrapped the end of the chain around the rusted thing in a loop on his way past, then ran across the shell like he was darting through an obstacle course.
The snail tried to throw him off by shuffling its metal plates, but Logan was too fast.
He dropped the chain and launched himself into the air, willing out the other chain just as fast while he landed on the other side of the monster hull.
There was another pipe protruding on this side. Perfect.
Logan looped this one as well and then jumped to the ground.
The monster snail laughed. “Human meat, did you just give me a gift? More metal to add to my shell? What an idio—”
Logan had already picked up the other end of the chain length connected to the right pipe and jumped away. He needed something solid. Something that could withstand three tons of weight.
Within the distance of the chain, there wasn’t much. But this wasn’t a huge island. They were close to the water and the island was so rocky that…
Fuck yeah.
About twenty feet in front of them, the flat earth disappeared, replaced by a rocky edge like a protruding mountain. It was a jagged boulder the size of a car, a mass of solid rock that had a narrow corner. Dirt had accumulated on the sides, enough for a pine tree to grow at a ninety-degree angle. It wasn’t a huge tree, and it was struggling to grow with a twisted, gnarly trunk, but that meant the ground was solid. With roots, and substance. Something stable.
Looping the chain around the tree wouldn’t do anything—it would break. But the pointed rock was solid and carved from shifting glaciers from thousands of years ago. It would be like looping the chain over the top of Mt. Everest.
This was a solid base. Something that could withstand the weight of the monster snail.
Jumping over to the jagged corner, the chain trailing behind him, Logan had just enough slack to loop it around and fasten it in place.
He’d leashed the snail to the rock.
But that wasn’t Logan’s only intent.
It was time to play a game of ‘tear the snail apart.’
The monster laughed. “You think you can defeat me with a chain!”
Logan landed on the ground on the right side of the snail and grabbed the other chain, looping it around his armour covered palm. “Keep inside of the pouch, Ernie. The swarm up above is going to notice me soon, and I won’t be able to bash them away.”
“I will stay… and hide,” Ernie grumbled.
“Wouldn’t that be what a stealthy octopus would do? Hide and lie in wait?”
Ernie grumbled again.
This would be the hard part. The ground was way too slime soaked for a game of tug-of-war. Logan took a second to remove a scoop of sand from his spatial storage to reform the crampon spikes on his boots, adding six rounded pins on the bottom of each boot. He would need a grip that wouldn’t slip and slide. Slamming his feet into the ground until he reached solid dirt, Logan tested his grip and then looked up at the snail with a curl of his lip.
It was time to find out how strong he’d gotten. He had 348 strength attributes. 348! That had to be enough.
“Here goes nothing,” he mumbled underneath his breath.
Bracing his body like the Hulk, he hauled on the chain, dragging the three-ton monster forward, his boots digging into the ground. His biceps bulging, the veins on the side of his neck standing out against his skin, he ground his teeth, pulling, pulling, pulling. He put all his anger and rage into the movement. All his frustration at not being able to take out his anger on the real culprit. The System. Every little thing that had fucked him over this past week was in his tugs, his anguish at losing Eleanor, the mental trauma of killing Asthea. Each of these events was fuel for his strength.
And gradually, he pulled the snail forward by its ship hull, dragging it through the slushy dirt. On one side, the pipe on the other end twisted the hull towards the rocky boulder, on the other side, it pulled towards Logan.
He was tearing it apart.
“W-what?” spluttered the snail. “What are you doing!” Straining its neck, it peered at the chain looped pipe and then at the one attached to the other side. It blanched. “Not my shell!”
Metal clanged, a horrible screech echoing like a building coming apart. The shell’s plates wrenched against each other as the snail tried in vain to incorporate its two metal pipes into the whole hull so it could dislodge the chains.
But it was too late.
With a tremendous bang, the shell tore apart, ripping itself into two parts and tearing off a chunk of flesh from the snail as if Logan were skinning a lobster alive. As it wailed in pain, filthy slime, blood and brackish brown fluid poured from the thing in a deluge.
With one last pull, Logan let the chains drop to the ground and then willed out the sword from his spatial collar, depositing it into his hand just as he used the Pink Sock to launch himself into the air.
Screaming in exultation, Logan skimmed the tip of the snake swarm up above and then dropped like a stone, holding the sword in a downwards swing.
With a singing noise from the sword, Logan chopped through the snail’s long body like chopping through a pork loin.
Ding!
[You have defeated a Level 140 Invasive Garden Snail! Extra experience granted for defeating an enemy above your level.]
[You have leveled up!]
[You have leveled up!]
[You have leveled up!]
[You have leveled up!]
[You have leveled up!]
[You have leveled up!]
Excitement surging, Logan pulled up the description of [Life Fabricator].