Morningwood: Everybody Loves Large Chests (Vol.1)

by Neven Iliev

  Not to mention that the Attributes were mostly exclusive. A Warrior’s Attribute gains that focused on STR and END would be pretty useless for a Ranger which needed AGI, PER and DEX. And while both of those had some overlap with the Rogue Job, that was an occupation that relied on completely different Skills. Oh sure, ultimately it was possible to master all those Jobs at once, but people did not have that sort of lifespan available. In a world where quality was significantly more important than quantity, it was vital to focus one’s training and become a specialist. Jack-of-all adventurers were, quite simply put, useless past Level 50. A deep pond was many times more dangerous than a knee-deep ocean, after all.

  Even the Mimic was vaguely aware of that fact. Although its familiar was created with a Level that was below 20, her magic already seemed close in potency to that of the Mimic with a Level of 38. The only reason it was able to bring out this much power in the first place was because its Main Job and two of its Skills - Cadaver Absorption and Biomass - provided a boost to all Attributes, which included INT. Much like how STR would improve all melee attacks, INT would improve the effectiveness of all Spells. Right now, the Mimic had INT that was more or less standard for a Level 20-ish Warlock with proper magic-related Skills.

  It would continue to use Cadaver Absorption as much as possible, though. Doing that could still give the Mimic free Attributes, Skills and Job Levels without having to spend time on actually training them. And so, after considering what it would do in the future, it decided to focus on improving its current Jobs and Skills rather than seek out new ones.

  Speaking of which, it had reached Level 25 in its Mimic Job during that last fight. It opened its Status Screen and was greeted with two unknowns. One was the MAX next to the Mimic Job. The other was the (+) sign next to its Species of Mimic (Lesser). And the (+) next to its Job was not there. Did the Status Screen not show up properly and misplaced the ever-important (+)? The Mimic opened and closed its Status several times, but it always came up the same. It was again stumped. Trying to Inspect the (+) sign did nothing, and inspecting its Species opened up a screen that was equally useless since it contained trivia the monster already knew.

  [Mimic (Species)]

  A low-class shapeshifting monster that exists only in dungeons. Mimics hunt by ambushing careless adventurers. They can be born in the form of treasure chests, walls, floors, doors or furniture. Even though they can change their appearance at will, they cannot change the shape they were born with.

  The species is divided into two variants - Lesser and Greater. The main difference between them is that Greater Mimics are far more cunning and resilient than their Lesser kin.

  So, desperately running out of options, it decided to ask for help. At least now, it had someone it could actually ask for help.

  Xera was making her way through the forest when she felt a slight tugging sensation on the back of her head. It meant that her summoner wished to communicate with her.

  “What is it, Master?” she inquired through the thought-link.

  The chest wanted to know what the thingie on the other thing was for. Also, how come the thingie was on that thingie instead of the other thingie? And, perchance, was that thingie delicious?

  The succubus let out a sigh. ‘Conversations’ with that moron always ended up being more or less like that.

  “Master, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

  There was a short pause. Then her master’s Status splashed into her consciousness like a boulder into a puddle. She let out a reflexive “What the fuck?!” at the sudden influx of information. It caught her completely off guard, causing her to blank out for a few seconds. She then tripped on an exposed root and fell flat on her face, smashing her forehead against a rock in the process.

  Even at a distance, that monster still managed to make her suffer. She wondered if her master was perhaps one of those idiot savants, only instead of maths or painting, it was unnaturally proficient in the art of tormenting others.

  That same master impatiently asked her again about the ‘thingie.’ She got up and rubbed her forehead, wiping a trickle of blood away in the process. After turning her attention to the Mimic’s Status, she immediately realized what it was trying to say.

  “Master, try chanting Rank Up,” she sent back.

  “Rank. Tasty?” came the fragmented reply.

  “Just do it!”

  “Orders. Me. Snack. You.”

  The Mimic kindly reminded the uppity familiar of her position.

  “Haah,” sighed Xera. She had briefly forgotten two important things in the heat of the moment. The first thing was that her master regarded everything good or beneficial as ‘tasty.’ And the second was that, when presented with a stupid question, she had to give an equally stupid answer.

  “Sorry, Master. Yes, rank is tasty.”

  Overjoyed at this revelation, the Mimic immediately chanted “Rank Ukh!”

  [Rank Up - Mimic (Lesser)]

  Requirements: Level 25 Mimic Job, Level 5 Shapeshift, END 75

  [Effects]

  Species will become Mimic (Greater).

  Level Cap on Mimic Job will be increased to 50.

  Shapeshift Skill Proficiency will increase.

  The Requirements have been met. Do you wish to Rank Up?

  [Yes]

  [No]

  The master agreed with its familiar. This did in fact look delicious. And so, it eagerly chose ‘Yes,’ then blacked out.

  Part Seven

  [Rank up complete.]

  [Congratulations! Your species has become Mimic (Greater).]

  [The maximum Level of your Mimic Job has been increased to 50.]

  [Proficiency level increased. Shapeshift is now Level 6. AGI +1. DEX +1. END +2.]

  The Mimic’s consciousness woke up to a brand new window waiting for it. The evolution from a Lesser to a Greater Mimic was over with. It didn’t feel any different though.

  [You are ravenous. Automatic HP and MP recovery are now disabled.]

  [You are starving. You will lose 2% of your maximum HP every 60 minutes.]

  Well, apart from the hunger. It was suddenly overcome by an overwhelming desire to eat and consume in order to survive. An overpowering need to fill its belly if it wanted to live. There was a void inside it - a vacuum so strong that it threatened to make it implode on itself. Something screamed at it to abandon all pretense and stuff its belly. However, it would not succumb to its base instincts so easily. Not anymore.

  And then it reactivated its short-range magical perception.

  The first thing it ‘saw’ was itself. The monster had reverted back to its dormant state - the spider legs, tongue and eyes had all retreated back inside its body, leaving it in its default chest-like appearance. It looked exactly the same as it did before. This was probably some defensive mechanism its body enacted on its own.

  Having confirmed its body seemed to be intact, it turned its attention to its surroundings. It was no longer in a forest, but in some new place it didn’t realize. It was sitting on a floor made out of wood - actual wooden boards, unlike the fake ones it used for its disguise. All around it were scattered wooden crates and boxes of variable size and make. Some looked newer while others were practically rotting.

  The walls of this place were weird, especially the ones on its left and right. They were slanted at about 45 degrees and leaning against each other. Did the wooden surfaces want to be a ceiling? At least the ones directly behind and further in front of it were normal looking, but their neighbors had forced them into a triangular shape. It was obvious which pair of walls were boss in this room.

  And yes, this was indeed a room. Although the Mimic didn’t know it, the tight space was actually an attic. It was only about three meters at its tallest point, six meters left-to-right and about ten meters front-to-back. The awkward placement of the slanted roof meant that, realistically speaking, you’d have to crawl if you wanted to reach into the sides. Cobwebs and dust covered the place and t
he Mimic itself, suggesting it had been there a while.

  But how did it get here? And where, exactly, was here? Those were both good questions. If only it had someone it could ask.

  Oh wait, it did. It felt the link between itself and its familiar was still active, meaning the succubus would probably know what was going on. It sent a telepathic message to get her attention.

  “Snack!”

  Names? Were those tasty? It didn’t know, but snacks were tasty. Therefore, the familiar’s name would now be Snack.

  “Who the hell is Snack?!” came the irritated response. “Ack! Master, you’re awake!”

  “No. Hungry. Bring food.”

  “Understood, Master. I will be there in fifteen minutes!”

  It seems this familiar had an idea of what was going on. It was time to ask it for the details.

  “Where? How? Why?” it inquired.

  Xera then began explaining her side of the story. She had gone into the city and collected 650 GP for her ‘contributions’ to the Sweeper subjugation Quest. Since her master had been unconscious, she was left without orders. That situation was something she fully expected to happen, which was why she wanted her master to Rank Up and allow her to play around for a while. It’s not something she had experienced personally, but learned about it from one of her previous masters.

  But before she could start playing around, she realized she had left her master unconscious at the site of its supposed death. If someone were to discover it, then her cover would be blown and it was questionable whether she would be able to run away in time. So naturally she went back to that place and, under the cover of night, dragged it over to one of the nearby farms. She used her natural charms to convince the elderly couple who ran the place to let her stay for a while and store her ‘luggage’ in their attic.

  The Mimic found that last bit to be particularly interesting.

  “Farmers? You mean humans?”

  “Yes, two of them. Oh, you should probably avoid killing them since-”

  “Too late.”

  In the middle of Xera’s explanation an old, balding farmer went into the attic to fetch something. He walked in through the trap door in the floor and was summarily eaten. His wife, having heard the horrible gnashing and thrashing that came from upstairs, went to investigate. The last thing she saw was her husband’s blood splattered all over the place before her head was chopped off from behind. Needless to say, she was also eaten.

  [Your hunger has been sated. Automatic HP and MP recovery will return to normal.]

  [You are no longer starving. Your HP will no longer deteriorate.]

  “Was tasty. Chewy, but oddly satisfying.”

  Even if they were old and barely had any meat on them, their intestines, livers and hearts proved to be as filling as expected.

  The succubus sighed to herself. Again, she forgot exactly who she was dealing with. Now they would have to burn down the farm to cover their tracks and run away before anyone came asking too many questions.

  “How long was I out?” came the next question.

  “Three days, Master… Huh? Master? Are you okay?”

  “Yes?”

  Maybe just my imagination, she thought.

  “If only three days,” continued the Mimic, “then how come so much hunger?”

  “That… part of the Rank Up process, I guess?” she offered. “But! More importantly than that! Master, you can form proper thoughts now!”

  It wasn’t her imagination, but reality. What she received through the link weren’t some fragmented words, but properly constructed sentences that had actual will and direction behind them. Also, it didn’t once say ‘thingie’ and mentioned tasty things only three times in that conversation!

  “I can have thoughts?”

  “Yeah! Like just now!”

  It seemed that Rank Up fundamentally upgraded the Mimic’s sad excuse for a mind. It was now capable of holding a conversation without being constantly distracted. There was even a chance of it making informed opinions based on more than its immediate desires.

  “Are thoughts tasty?”

  “… Yes, Master, thoughts are tasty.”

  She gave up. For the briefest moment she had the vague hope her Master would stop being such a colossal moron. In the end, even if its mental abilities were expanded, it was still a three month old monster that was barely even sentient. It didn’t really have any desires beyond the instinctive need to eat and grow, so Xera had only herself to blame for pointlessly getting her hopes up.

  “I beg of you,” she added, “please stay still and don’t move!”

  The Mimic had no reason to refuse. If ‘staying still without moving’ was an Olympic sport, it would have a serious shot at the gold medal. So it returned to its spot in the attic and sat down. It still had unfinished business with its Status.

  “Rank Ukh!” it chanted and a familiar looking-window appeared.

  [Rank Up - Mimic (Greater)]

  Requirements: Level 50 Mimic Job, Level 10 Shapeshift, END 200

  Possible evolutions and their effects will be revealed once the minimum requirements are met.

  Meeting certain conditions will unlock additional options.

  The Mimic’s curiosity skyrocketed. Rather than become a higher variant of the same species, it seemed like it could evolve into something completely different. And it appeared as if what it did during its journey to that point would somehow increase its options. However, it could not simply learn these unlock conditions from its Status. While these menus and screens were useful, ultimately they did not contain much information beyond what the monster already knew.

  Well, no point worrying about things it had no control over. Achieving the bare minimum requirements would be pretty straightforward and it seemed like it would get them eventually. Truthfully, it was looking forward to the Level 10 Shapeshift more than anything else.

  [Shapeshift]

  A measure of your ability to mould and sculpt your own flesh.

  Requirements: Born as a shapeshifting Species

  Type: Passive

  Activation Time: N/A

  Cost: N/A

  Range: Self

  [Effects]

  Affords the ability to alter physical appearance at will.

  The extent of transformation is limited based on species.

  Increases shapeshifting speed and precision by 10% per Level of this Skill.

  Increases how much of the body can be shapeshifted with each Level of this Skill.

  Similar to Mastery Skills, this one had the hidden effect of increasing the Mimic’s general anatomical knowledge. Things like how to construct stronger muscles and tougher hides. When eating something, it could gain deeper insights into how it was put together. Doing so also meant it could mimic those body parts more effectively and even pick out weak points such as tendons, hearts, eyes and throats with its swordplay. At this point it could probably take apart and then put together a human with its eyes closed. Not that it had eyes in the first place, though.

  “Master!” shouted Xera. She had just poked her disguised head into the attic. Then she recoiled when she saw the state of the place. “Eck! What in the hell?! Why is there blood everywhere?!”

  This was the first time she had actually seen the aftermath of the Mimic’s feeding frenzy. The walls, the floor, the ceiling and pretty much all the crates and boxes were stained with fresh, crimson blood.

  “Forget that,” said the Mimic through the thought-link, “where is food?”

  “Ah, right. Here you go, Master.”

  She raised her hand. It was holding a string, and tied around the string by their feet were five whole chickens with freshly broken necks. Well, it wasn’t like the farmers would need them anymore. Xera set them down on the floor in front of her master. The animate chest opened its mouth and greedily scooped up the still warm bodies with its flexible tongues and devoured them in a flash. It chewed on them for a few seconds before swallowing.

  �
��Not bad. Tastes like people.”

  Xera just barely managed to stop herself from retorting with ‘Isn’t that backwards?’

  “Snack! The thingie that can be traded for tasty things! Show me!”

  The succubus rolled her eyes. They were back at ‘thingie’ again. Still, at least it was pretty clear what it meant this time. She unhooked a small leather satchel from her waist and emptied its contents on a dry spot of the floor. A number of glistening gold coins clanked onto the wooden planks. Each coin was a little under five centimeters in diameter and about three millimeters thick. One side had a shield-shaped crest decorated with flowers. The other bore the image of a bearded human with a fancy hat. These gold pieces were the first ones it had ever seen.

  “Here they are, Master. Thirteen King pieces worth 50 GP each, for a total 650 GP.”

  But her words did not reach the Mimic. Its entire attention had been captured by those coins. The only light source in this dark attic was what was pouring through the trapdoor Xera was still in. Yet they seemed to shine and glisten with a beauty like it had never seen before. This was a fascination well beyond liking shiny things. It was as if the gold itself was speaking to the Mimic.

  ‘Hold me’ it whispered. ‘Protect me’ it said. ‘Never let me go’ it demanded. And the simple monster would comply. How could it ever resist such sweet temptation?

  The faux-chest’s imitation lid opened itself wide. And amidst the rows of pointy, jagged teeth appeared something new. Something different. Rather than a red tongue covered in clear drool, what appeared was the upper body of a woman. She had waist-long, straight hair that was the color of brilliant snow. Her skin was so pale that anyone who saw it would doubt if it was ever touched by the sun. The eyes were a deep crimson that seemed to stare into one’s very soul. Her breasts, almost as big as her head, jiggled pleasantly with every slight movement. A proud, pink nipple stood on each one. Combined with the unnaturally thin waist and flared hips that gave way to the rest of the Mimic, it gave her an astonishing hourglass figure.