Class-A Threat (Disgardium Book #1) LitRPG Series

by Dan Sugralinov

  But no, that was not an option. Snowstorm would find out. The pods scanned you every time you loaded up Dis. And they didn’t merely register body health, they could read brain activity. The corporation claimed it was all done for good reasons like to make the world of Dis safe from maniacs and psychopaths, and track the mental health of its users. But obviously, if they could read one thing, what was to stop them from reading everything?

  So instead I decided to stick to my initial strategy and build on my threat potential. The fact that preventers were checking people as they left our sandbox didn't have me worried yet. How long could they possibly keep watch there? I had almost another six months before my sixteenth birthday, and I seriously doubted they would waste the expensive ingredients for True Flame and clan time for so long...

  In Tristad it was a warm and hectic night. A starry sky, city streets filled with pleasure-seekers. In the evening, Disgardium always felt like a party. Street musicians, bards, dancers both male and female could be found on every corner. Even next to the jail where I appeared there was an illusionist performing.

  The streetlights burned bright. A huge moth, drawn to one near me, hit me with a wing. I batted it away and, squinting, tried to figure out what I'd lost in the emergency exit. I opened my profile and saw that I still had my improved Resilience and the experience from the three packs of mobs in the dungeon.

  I was running out of time, so I didn't waste any. I couldn't miss school tomorrow, and it would be good to not only pass this instance in three or four hours, but also level Unarmed Combat as much as possible. But my only hope for tomorrow's duel with Crag was to at least get a bit of sleep. And right after class I'd have to find a location with higher-level mobs – no matter what I wouldn't be able to get around the maximum skill-levelling limit.

  I walked up to the instance portal, but found only disappointment.

  The Tristad City Jail dungeon is being completed by another group of players.

  Current group progress: battle with Wimpy – 91%. Alive: 5/5 group members.

  Nether! All that was left was to hope that the mad gnomish inventor would wreck them. I posted up next to the portal and attempted to enter from time to time so I could see their progress. After they killed the boss, I realized that there was no reason to sit and wait here. Better to do something else. I remembered my other plans, stood up and headed to the tavern.

  I scraped some cash out of the chest in my personal room and ran to a vendor to get some Cooking ingredients. Unfortunately, he had nothing for my recipes other than spices and seasonings. I couldn't level bread baking any further. I'd have to buy some stuff at auction because I had no time to hunt rabbits or deer.

  There I placed the Altered Ash up for sale, of which I had nineteen in the bag. The market rate was three times higher than what I'd get from a vendor, and I could easily spare the money for commission. I put up my items ten percent cheaper than others, and went to check prices for Cooking ingredients. I got a couple beeps to tell me a sale had gone through. I checked my inbox and was pleasantly surprised: everything had been bought, and my wallet was approximately eleven gold heavier! That was an astronomical sum considering that, one week ago, I couldn't even find one copper to pay for a ripped dress.

  Gladdened, I decided to unload the green knife and blue armband I picked up in the jail. They were for level ten, and their bonuses were useless to me. But I had a change of mind. Tomorrow I'd drop by Underweight. That would be faster and maybe even more profitable.

  For almost a whole gold, I bought a few dozen spider eggs, some venison and some rabbit meat. The meat went for ten silver a stack, because the auction was packed with such low-level loot. Everything I bought was instantly in my inbox, and it went from there into my inventory. My bag was completely full.

  All that remained was to decide where to practice Cooking. It was against the rules to start a fire within city limits, but I didn't want to go out of town either. Crag wasn't the only ganker in Tristad after all. So I went back to the Bubbling Flagon, left all my money in my chest and went down to the kitchen.

  Chef Arno recognized me, greeted me kindly and didn't refuse my request to use their extra fireplace and dishes to cook. The kitchen wasn't too busy. After midnight, people preferred to drink.

  You have cooked Spider-Egg Omelet.

  Spider-Egg Omelet (1) added to your inventory.

  Cooking trade: +1.

  Current level: Pupil (54/100)

  You have received experience points for progressing in a trade: +1.

  The ball was rolling. The individual experience points brought me a new level after my twelfth omelet. I couldn't hold back a smile. I could finally put on the +5-endurance amulet I picked up from Dargo!

  You are now level 5!

  5 free attribute points available!

  I pushed the plus button five times and my strength went up to ten. My damage dealing abilities doubled, which was something to celebrate. Maybe adding six points to base damage wouldn't be a huge help in tomorrow's duel with Crag, but the power of my Hammerfist would also be doubling! And that, as my Uncle Nick often said, was a horse of a different color.

  Meanwhile, another set of spider eggs spattered in in the pan along with some venison and rabbit meat. At first the trade grew with every dish I made, but after level ninety my progress slowed down significantly.

  It took me twenty eggs just to go up one point. I tipped over one hundred with some Fried Rabbit and Herb-encrusted Venison Filet. They were considered harder, so I sometimes didn’t succeed making them.

  "You're getting somewhere, Scyth!" the chef congratulated me, observing my creations with curiosity. "I think you're ready to move onto the next level in this trade! If you like, I could raise your rank to journeyman."

  "With pleasure, Mr. Arno!" I agreed, looking at the interface clock. "Just one thing. I don't have any money on me but if need be I can run and get it..."

  "No money, Scyth!" the large man shook his head. "Fifty silver won't make me any richer, but it will make me feel like an ungrateful bastard. You saved my life, I am indebted to you!"

  I started thinking that the developers had some hidden reputation stat for various nonplayer characters. How else could I explain Arno's selflessness?

  It took me more than an hour to grasp the ins and outs of journeyman-rank Cooking! Arno couldn't just assign me the rank or tell me about new recipes. He had to show and explain, it was the only way. In fact, for all game professions it was thought that Dis should not only entertain, but teach. It was at least good that the devs had found a golden mean and sped up the "training" process.

  By the end of the master class, I noticed anxiously that it was coming to two AM, and I still had a dungeon to get through.

  "Sorry, Scyth," Arno yawned. "I have nothing more to teach you. Everything else I know how to cook requires at least expert level. Come back when you've leveled up some more..."

  Your rank in the Cooking trade has been increased to Journeyman!

  Current level: Journeyman (100/250).

  Chance of cooking a dish with known recipe: 100%

  Chance of inventing a new dish: 10%.

  Cooking recipes added: smoked bear, crab claws in spicy sauce, crocodile steak, peppered blood sausage, grabber fry-up, farmer's winter snack, bat appetizer, juicy pork ribs...

  To improve your skill in this trade, prepare dishes with known recipes, come up with your own recipes and experiment with ingredients.

  You have received experience points for advancing your rank in a trade: 50.

  Experience points at present level (5): 77/2800.

  Before exiting, I checked the chef's status. He was still labeled infected. What to do with that information I did not know, so I simply bid him a fond farewell. What did the disease even do? Was it possible to cure? Maybe it was like a curse, and a priest of Nergal the Radiant could remove it? I'd have to ask, but cautiously.

  With those thoughts in mind, I went outside and headed for the ci
ty jail. This time the dungeon was free...

  * * *

  Trixie was still playing the same Tauren, but this time gave no indications of human intelligence. Along with his pack, he attacked fiercely. I still hadn't gotten Curse of the Undead to trigger before I reached Wimpy, and Stoneskin made no sense with my one health...

  I spent almost two uninterrupted hours dying while the RNG laughed in my face. The curse wouldn’t trip no matter how I tried and, at this point, I basically felt like someone cursed to die for all eternity. Haha. In fact I didn't find it funny because, at this rate, I wouldn't be able to pass this dungeon before school started, which was to say nothing about getting some sleep.

  Altered Kobold Criminal has damaged you: 186.

  Health points: 0/255.

  You are dead.

  Remaining time to respawn 9... 8... 7...

  More and more often, I was using the ten-second after death breaks in their full measure. I let the enemy mobs go on their way, just savoring the lack of annoyance. The mantra that my real body was safe and sound was less and less comfort. The pain on the other hand was growing stronger and every time I shuddered in anticipation of the inevitable suffering, seeing that I was again being torn apart and devoured by altered monsters.

  I was particularly upset that this series of deaths had been no use. Resilience wasn’t growing, frozen at thirty-six, and when I tossed a gaze over the other skills, I mentally poured out a stream of curses so vile it seemed to reach even the mobs. At the very least, they walked somewhat farther from my dead body.

  And I cursed myself with my last words for wasting all that time. Clearly, my brain was finally slipping into madness when I decided to go back to this instance to level Unarmed Combat. I already had it at thirty-six! It hadn't grown a single percent in all this time!

  In my rage, I decided to activate emergency exit and leave the game, but then I changed my mind. Instead I took out that white-hot anger on the pack I was facing now and all the altered monsters living in this jail. Not this time, maneaters!

  The timer counted out the last second, and I respawned. It was the same kobold that killed me before. He grinned and ran at me.

  You carry the mark of the Destroying Plague and have evaded fatal damage!

  You have been given Curse of the Undead: all damage taken reduced by 100%!

  This curse will remain active until you completely restore your health.

  Mark of the Destroying Plague improved: +1.

  Chance to receive Curse of the Undead: 5%.

  Current level: 5.

  Curse of the Undead enhanced!

  New resource discovered: Plague Energy.

  Plague Energy pool capacity: 10000 points.

  5% of damage taken while Curse of the Undead is active will be converted into plague energy and stored.

  You can use plague energy to increase the power of an attack at a rate of one energy point per HP of damage.

  Trying not to mind the pain, I read carefully. And as soon as I was done I realized what happened and got a message:

  Current threat class increased: W!

  Leaning on the pulsating tunnel wall, I slowly got up off the floor. The altered creatures hit, bit and tried to tear off pieces of flesh. They slashed, jabbed and scratched. I meanwhile couldn't take my eyes off a new bar that had come up next to my life and mana ones. It was slowly filling with a toxic green color. The logs now showed not only damage I took, but also the energy I had saved.

  Altered Kobold Criminal has damaged you: 163.

  Damage completely absorbed by Curse of the Undead.

  Health points: 1/255.

  Plague energy points: 968/10000.

  I intuitively wanted to use it all right away. I put it into Hammer and slammed into a vile little kobold, dislodging his jaw and stuffing his fangs down own throat.

  You have critically damaged Altered Kobold Criminal: 1307!

  Health points: 0/710.

  Altered Kobold Criminal is dead.

  The mob's body fell dead. I raised my head and gave a carnivorous snort.

  Now it was time to do some fighting![1]

  Chapter Twenty-Seven. Friendly Advice

  THE REST of the ins melted in my memory into one uninterrupted battle. I was hurrying to finish this and get at least some three hours sleep before school.

  The gnomish inventor Wimpy didn't even manage to get to the "good news" and fell in one blow backed up by nearly three thousand points of plague energy. And thank all the gods, it was not reflected in any way – not visually or in the logs. However, the amount of damage would make anyone who saw the numbers think. Already I was thinking that I would have to sluff off extra damage in smaller amounts in my duel with Crag, not letting it reach four-figure sums.

  After Wimpy died, a door opened leading to a tunnel. I ran to the second boss without stopping. When I reached Zander, an altered goblin from the League, I was accompanied by a large and noisy delegation.

  The four packs of mobs and tricky assassin boss generated massive amounts of damage, causing my plague energy reserves to grow very quickly. It was going so fast that every Hammer I used did more than a thousand damage and was guaranteed to send whatever unfortunate mob found itself under my hot hand to its forefathers.

  I didn't even notice when Zander died. He was equipped with poisoned daggers and shouting not only about the superiority of the goblin trade league, but also his plans to take it over. Very strange plans for an altered criminal confined to a small pocket of space.

  I took a strategic place in the corner of the boss room, where the monsters piled on me in one huge mass such that I had to fight lying down. Not feeling like moving, I kicked, slammed my fists and used my special as often as the cooldown allowed. Hammer was now guaranteed to make contact with someone every time.

  And suddenly it was all over. No one was hitting me, the pain was gone and, listening closely, I realized I was alone in this part of the dungeon. I got up from under the pile of bodies and mechanically searched them, picking up all the loot without looking and walked further, eating the rest of the food I cooked in the tavern as I went. It gave insignificant bonuses to my attributes and, in theory, it wasn't worth it but I wasn't feeling decisive enough to just throw out the fruits of my labor.

  I didn't want to repeat the experiment and collect multiple packs again. It was a bit easier to handle them one at a time. What was more, they were stronger now. Some ugly ogre enchanters had been added to the new packs, and they used a bizarre twisted magic.

  The two-headed ogres could stretch out time, and suddenly a target I had just hit would be 10 feet away. They also could condense time abruptly and, in an instant, all the claws and fangs of every mob in the room would be tearing into me at once. One of these altered enchanters attacked by swinging a sharp blade from afar and, with every imitated blow, a real cut appeared on my body.

  The first of these packs took me a quarter hour, and I wasted a fair amount of plague energy on misses. But eventually I found the rhythm of the mages’ cooldowns and, dashing at their two-headed bodies, broke through their rib cages. After the mages were gone, taking down the remaining lesser enemies was a minute or two's work.

  And that pack was where I levelled up.

  You are now level 6!

  5 free attribute points available!

  In the heat of battle, I threw it all into strength, but didn't confirm, having realized that making normal blows do more damage was pointless now that I had plague energy. That made actually landing the blows more important. I placed all five points into perception, which increased my accuracy to seventeen percent.

  And that decision proved itself almost immediately. The next groups of mobs before the boss didn't take me much time at all. I would build up plague energy, expend some mana, then calmly take down the rest one at a time.

  By the time I reached the final boss, Pherax the draconid, my bag was full of Altered Ash, a few blues and four greens. I managed to get two rare items f
rom the bosses: a bashing Two-Handed Mechanic's Wrench from Wimpy and Silent Boots of the Assassin from Zander. I didn't have any room left though so, estimating the prices in my head, I tossed out all the green and filled up the remaining slots with alchemy ingredients. I figured they would be easier to sell. I'd get more money per inventory slot, too.

  I emerged from the last tunnel, which was so low that I had to stoop, hitting my shoulders on the walls before I reached a deep and spacious cave.

  Its ceiling was adorned with undulating waves that oozed with black slime. The floor underfoot was also rocking, and it was no easy task to keep my balance.

  Then, in the very depths of the cave, a hypnotic hole beckoned. There were concentric spellbinding circles going all the way from its edges to the center. Looking away from this portal to the nether was actually so hard I had to strain.